Nobody's Fool (10 page)

Sarah was already there waiting. Chelsea was swaying back and forth in a toddler swing while Sarah pushed Chad gently on a swing with a safety seat.

“Hi,” Sarah greeted. “So, how was the trip to the lake?”

Jolie shrugged. How was she supposed to answer that? Wonderful? Awful? Wonderawful? A lump formed in her throat. She desperately wanted someone to tell her what to do. Maybe Sarah was that someone? “Okay, I guess.”

Sarah regarded her keenly for a moment. “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

Jolie was afraid if she spoke she’d start to cry, and she didn’t want to. Not in front of Sarah and her children.

“Want me to push you, Chad?” Jolie asked, stepping forward to where his swing had slowed almost to a stop.

“Okay,” he agreed. She gave him a push.

“Higher,” he commanded.

Jolie glanced at Sarah. She held up her thumb and forefinger with a tiny space between them. Jolie gave Chad a firmer push, which seemed to satisfy him.

“
Whee
,” he squealed. Why couldn’t everyone be so easily pleased?

Chelsea began to fuss to get out of the swing. Sarah pulled her up. “Chad, do you want to go play in the sandbox with your trucks for a while?”

“Yeah!” He flew out of the swing, stumbled and fell, but righted himself without complaint and ran for the nearby sandbox.

“There’s a bench, we can sit over there.” Sarah nodded to a place in the shade of an ancient maple filled with red, orange and gold leaves.

Chelsea happily sucked on a bottle of juice. Sarah however made no attempt to push the subject, watching Chad in the sandbox instead. Jolie felt comforted by the silence. “Court hates me,” she finally ventured.

Sarah’s head swiveled around. “Oh, Jolie, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Well, he sure doesn’t like me much.”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

“We went up to the lake, and we were having such a good time. Everything was going great. And—and I tried to tell him how I felt—and we ended up in bed together.” Jolie hazarded a look at Sarah, but she just nodded. “Then this morning…it was awful. It was like he turned into someone else, someone I’d never seen before. I told him I loved him, and he didn’t believe me. He said I was just stringing him along, like I’ve done with every other guy.”

“Are you?”

“Of course not!”

Sarah retreated back into silence, which somehow spoke more eloquently than anything she could have said.

Jolie leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God, he’s right, isn’t he? I did it with Chip. Every guy before. Every guy after. Why should he think this is different?” She turned her head to look at Sarah. “Sarah, I am so sorry.”

“I believe you.”

“But Court doesn’t. He probably never will.”

“Then you’ll have to prove it to him.”

“How?”

“The same way you did with me.”

Jolie shook her head. “I already apologized.”

Sarah laid a hand on her shoulder. “Jolie, I remember a lot of things about high school vividly. That’s one of the benefits of being unpopular. Since you aren’t invited to participate, you spend a lot of time watching from the sidelines.”

“I’m sor—”

“No.” Sarah cut her off. “You’re done apologizing to me. Get over it, already.” She smiled. “What I’m saying is, I remember you and I remember Court. He was crazy about you. I’d sit in the cafeteria and I’d see him watch you from across the room. He’d be with his friends and there’d you be in the middle of the cheerleaders and the jocks. You didn’t know he was alive. I felt so sorry for him.”

Jolie’s eyes began to mist. “That’s what he said this morning. He said I couldn’t see him back then.”

Sarah nodded. “I know what it’s like to be invisible.”

“But I never intended to hurt him. You know how important status feels when you’re in school, and it felt like that’s all I had. I just—I don’t know. I was scared all the time, like someone would find out all my secrets, I’d be exposed somehow, and I’d lose it all.”

“What was it you were afraid they’d find out?” The gentle tone of Sarah’s question almost undid Jolie. She sounded like a therapist.

“That I wasn’t who they thought I was. I was really this insecure loser who didn’t have a clue. I was afraid they’d find out…” She dropped her head back into her hands. “Oh, God.”

“Find out what?”

“That I was in love with the boy next door.”

“You liked him? Even back then?”

Jolie nodded miserably. “I know that now, but I’m not even sure I was aware of it all those years ago. I think I buried my feelings so deeply even I couldn’t find them.”

“Well, if you couldn’t find them, neither could anyone else.”

Jolie nodded. “But when I saw him again, it all came rushing back. I couldn’t hide the way I felt. More importantly, I didn’t want to hide. He kept saying we were just friends, but I wanted more. I thought he did, too. Until this morning anyway.”

Jolie sat back and sniffed. Chad looked up from where he was building roads for his trucks in the sandbox. He gave them a little smile and waved, then seemed embarrassed and went back to what he was doing. In spite of her own misery Jolie smiled. Apparently even Chad, as young as he was, sometimes felt confused by his feelings.

“Remember how I wasn’t exactly friendly to you at the cocktail party Friday night?” Sarah asked. Chelsea had finished her bottle and Sarah repositioned her over her shoulder and was rubbing her back.

“Boy, do I.”

“I was remembering the old you from high school, Jolie. Since I hadn’t seen you since, I had nothing else to go on.”

“But you’ve forgiven me, haven’t you?” At Sarah’s nod, she went on. “Then why can’t Court?”

“My expectations are a bit different. I’m not the one who’s been in love with you his whole life.” Sarah giggled and Jolie reluctantly joined her.

“Do you think he’s still in love with me?” she asked.

Sarah made a show of considering the question. “He’s spent virtually every waking moment at your side since he’s been back, invited you to attend every reunion event with him, took you to dinner, up to the lake—”

“I kind of invited myself up to the lake.”

“He could have refused. Maybe you just beat him to the punch. Who’s to say it wasn’t all part of his master plan?”

Jolie’s eyes widened. “You think he has a master plan?”

“Oh, Jolie, don’t you remember when I told you I’d dreamed of the day you’d come and apologize to me for the way you treated me?”

“I remember.”

“Well, maybe Court’s been nursing a different sort of fantasy.”

“One where I tell him I’m in love with him and he tells me to go to hell?” Jolie asked incredulously.

“I don’t know. Maybe he just wants to make sure he’s not the one licking his wounds this time.”

Chelsea had dozed off on Sarah’s shoulder. She settled her gently in the stroller. “Chad, can you get your things picked up? We need to go home pretty soon.”

“I built a bridge, Mom. Look!”

“That’s great, honey. A couple more minutes, but when I start counting to five I want you to show Miss Jolie how fast you can pick your trucks up, okay?”

Jolie rubbed her temples. “I am so exhausted. I can’t think about this anymore. My brain is like a bowl of mush.” She lowered her hands and impulsively hugged Sarah. “But thanks for listening.”

Sarah hugged her back. “Any time. Chad, let’s go. One. Two. Three…”

After seeing Sarah, Jolie dug out the most ancient pair of cotton pajamas she could find, worn to a thin comfortable weight. She curled up in the middle of her bed.

She still wore the locket. She couldn’t bring herself to take it off, now more than ever. She rubbed her thumb along the back of it, caressing the word “Forever” like a talisman.

Chapter Eleven

“Jolie. My goodness, wake up. The Harrisons will be here any minute.”

Her mother jostled her shoulder, dredging her out of a sound, dream-filled sleep. Her head felt heavy and thick as a bucket of cream. “Hmm? What?” Jolie blinked and stretched and saw the time on the alarm clock.

“The Harrisons. I invited them to dinner tonight, remember?”

Jolie sat up. “Court, too?” She shoved a handful of hair out of her face and yawned. Great. Just what she needed. Leave it to her mother to throw her into a social obligation at an inopportune moment.

“Well, of course Court’s coming. I thought it would be fun. You two seemed to be getting along so well. Until today…”

Jolie glanced up. Her mother was staring at her, a worried expression on her face. “I won’t ruin your dinner party, Mom, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Her mother sat on the bed next to her. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s not what I was thinking at all. I just hate to see you so unhappy. Tell me how I can help.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Jolie told her honestly. As much as she wanted to she couldn’t turn her mother into her confidant at this late date. She patted her mother’s hand. “I didn’t plan to take such a long nap. I should get dressed, huh?”

Her mother hesitated as if she wanted to say something more, but instead she got up and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Jolie looked over her clothes for a suitable ensemble. Her energy level seemed to have sunk to an all-time low. In the bathroom she brushed her teeth. Her hair was a tangled mess. She pulled a brush through it until it was reasonably neat. She looked at her cosmetic bag and then back at her reflection in the mirror.

What was the point? There was no reason to make herself attractive to Court. He’d only wanted to teach her a lesson. That’s what this entire week had been about, right? He’d succeeded. She’d give him that. But she’d be damned if she’d sign on for any more of his special brand of punishment.
Screw you
, she thought.

She applied a tiny amount of lip-gloss, put on a plain white shirt and belted a denim skirt around her waist. She came downstairs just as the Harrisons arrived.

Her heart gave a sickening lurch when Court glanced up at her. A brief flash of their night together tore through her. She pictured herself reeling from the pain of the memory, thrown against the wall, sliding down the stairs in a pool of blood.

She yanked her gaze away from his and focused on his parents, her parents, anyone but him.

Everyone adjourned to the back porch where her father, playing host, served everyone drinks. Jolie stuck to club soda. If she drank wine, she was afraid she’d let her guard down in front of everyone.

Not going to happen, she assured herself as she sipped the drink. She felt Court studying her from time to time, trying to catch her eye. Again those little surges of pain shot through her psyche. She felt…not just angry but hurt and disappointed. Mixed in with all of it was understanding. She knew exactly why Court did what he did. She almost couldn’t blame him. Except that it hurt so much.

She blinked to dispel the hint of tears pricking up. Court’s mother had repeated a question to her twice and she still hadn’t heard it. Everyone was looking at her. Even though she refused to look at him, she could feel the intensity of Court’s stare.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked Becky.

“I said have you heard any word on your design line? I understand you’ve been a bit anxious about getting the final approval.”

Jolie glanced at her mother. Of course she’d have told Becky about the pending deal with Melina. Was it any wonder she wouldn’t confide in her about Court? At least she hadn’t gone into specifics with her mother and hadn’t mentioned Melina by name. Otherwise, not only would Becky know she was under consideration by Court’s client, so would Court.

“No, nothing yet. The lawyers are still working out the details. I expect the contract will be finalized sometime next week, though.”

“That’s so exciting. It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”
But I’d give it all up to have your son. If he wasn’t being such a dickhead at the moment
. Men were such ornery creatures. Somehow, she’d never expected Court to be that way. He’d always been so honorable, so honest. Until now.
See what you’ve done to him?
She’d turned one of the few decent guys she’d ever known into a vindictive monster.

She blinked back a few more tears. She wondered if she’d be able to get through dinner or if she’d have to plead a headache and go to her room.

No. She wouldn’t give Court the satisfaction. She lifted her chin and looked directly at him. That seemed to surprise him.
Tough luck, buddy
.
You started this. One way or another, we’re going to finish it
.

Her mother rose to see to dinner. “I’ll help you, Mom,” she said cheerily. Anything to put some distance between herself and Court.

“So, how was the lake?” Becky asked after the dinner had been set and they’d sat back down. “Did you two have a good time?”

Jolie’s gaze collided with Court’s once again. How was she supposed to answer Becky’s question?
Jumping your son’s bones was pretty fantastic, but since this morning things have gone steadily downhill?

Court cleared his throat as George passed the roast beef. “It was fine, Mom. I told you.”

“Well, I just wanted to get Jolie’s perspective. Maybe she didn’t enjoy herself as much as you did. Closing up a cabin isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

Jolie felt her blush deepen.

Court picked up a roll and broke it in half. “Oh, I think she enjoyed herself.”

“Until this morning,” Jolie added sweetly, her eyes shooting daggers in Court’s direction.

“Why? What happened this morning?” Becky looked from Jolie to Court.

“They had a fight,” Jolie’s mother put in.

Jolie couldn’t believe what she heard. “Mother!” How dare she divulge yet another of her secrets? In front of everyone? Including Court!

“Well, you did, didn’t you?” Her mother didn’t seem at all concerned by her faux pas.

Jolie fumed. She wished she were back in New York in her cozy apartment. Alone. Without all these eyes staring at her, picking her apart.

“Is that true, Court? Did you and Jolie argue?”

Court shifted in his seat and fooled with his silverware. “I wouldn’t say we argued. Just a few things we don’t see eye to eye on.”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Becky, leave them alone. It’s none of our business,” George said to his wife.

“Well, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that you two have been friends for so long, I’d hate for something to come between you.”

“We were never really friends,” Court said bluntly.

Someone dropped a fork with a clatter. Jolie realized it was her.

She stared across the table, her vision blurred. Why didn’t he just take out a finely honed scalpel and plunge it into her heart? How much of this did he need to dish out until he felt vindicated? She stood up so violently her chair fell over.

“It’s never going to be enough, is it, Court?” Her voice shook when she spoke. “No matter what I do, no matter what I say, it will never be enough. I can’t undo the past. I can’t go back and change it.”

“Jolie—”

“How much, Court? How much more before we’re even? You want to see me hurt, I’m hurt, okay? I. Hurt.” She pounded her fist against her chest. “You got what you wanted.” The tears abated for a moment and she saw everything in another of those ah-ha moments. She saw Court clearly. “You got exactly what you wanted.” She was almost in awe and her voice reflected it.

He’d made her fall for him and then he’d walked away, rejected her. Exactly what he must have believed she’d purposely done to him all those years ago. Through her pain she felt a sick sort of kinship with him. She understood it all so clearly now. But she’d never intentionally set out to hurt him. That had simply been a by-product of her own insecurity. It was still her fault, but at least it hadn’t been deliberate.

“I hope you’re happy.” She looked around at the startled faces of her parents and his. She laid her napkin on the table. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Court watched Jolie leave the room. Then he pushed back his chair gently and laid his napkin on the table. “Thanks for dinner, but I’ve lost my appetite. I’m sorry we caused a disturbance. I should go.” He got up, came around the table, calmly picked up Jolie’s overturned chair and left.

For one brief, insane moment he thought of going upstairs, pounding on Jolie’s door and begging her to let him explain. Luckily, he thought better of that.

Not that Jolie would have let him in anyway. He could imagine her screaming “I never want to see you again” through the door and meaning it.

He got into the BMW, felt the engine roar to life. For the first time, he truly appreciated the car’s power and responsiveness. He tore down the street and took one of the roads that led out of town where he’d be unlikely to encounter other vehicles or patrol cops.

If he’d doubted Jolie before, he couldn’t doubt her now. Her pain had been there for all to see. For her to be that hurt, there had to be some real emotion behind it. Otherwise, she’d have blown off his behavior this morning. If he were just another of those guys she’d gotten used to stringing along, the ones she played easy come easy go with, she wouldn’t have been so upset. She certainly wouldn’t have been moved to tears in front of her parents.

He got a pain in his gut just thinking about how she’d looked, even before the explosion. She’d looked so natural, no artifice, no make-up. The polish on one of her thumbnails had chipped and she hadn’t bothered to repair it. Somehow he’d found that strangely endearing.

She’d been sending him a message from the moment she’d appeared, even though she’d hardly looked at him. She didn’t care who saw the real her. Unfortunately, she’d probably never forgive him for making that happen.

Over the years he’d looked at a hundred contracts for clients, always looking for loopholes, always planning for contingencies. Maybe if he’d planned his strategy with Jolie a little better none of this would have happened. Or he’d at least have been better prepared to deal with it.

He hadn’t counted on the fact that he was still in love with her. He’d told himself there was something seriously wrong with a man who carried a torch for as long as he had. All his plans had flown out the window the minute he’d hugged her—hell, the minute he’d set eyes on her, there on her parents’ back porch.

Nothing could have prepared him for their time at the lake. He’d been elated, confused, uncertain of his own feelings. He’d completely disbelieved that her love was for real. Instead of trying to deal with it he’d shoved it away, all of it, even as he indulged in the sweet dream of it for one night.

In the back of his mind was the concern that he hadn’t really expected his plan to work. Certainly he hadn’t expected it to have such disastrous results.

Plan B, Plan B,
he kept thinking as the BMW ate up the country roads. He needed a Plan B. Apologize, that was his first thought and he almost laughed out loud. Like that would have any effect. Maybe not, but it was a start. Flowers. Oldest trick in the book. Could be seen as superficial, but traditionally, it was a start.

Talk. Conversation. Communication. Court squirmed uncomfortably as he downshifted to take a sharp curve. He’d have to lay his soul bare. Be honest. He groaned out loud. He’d spent a lot of time learning how to play things close to the vest, especially with women. He’d gotten comfortable in his little shell. It kept him from getting hurt.

No it doesn’t
, his sub-conscious argued.
You’re getting hurt now. Again. And dummy, you’re letting the woman you’ve always wanted slip through your fingers.

It was well after midnight when Court steered the car back onto Wildwood Lane. He’d thought about stopping at Smokey’s for a beer. Or twelve. Maybe alcohol would dull the pain in his gut whenever he pictured Jolie’s face just before she’d walked away in tears.

Instead, Court was stone-cold sober. His stomach felt like somebody had stretched it out from end to end and tied it into a nice big knot. But he had a plan. Plan B.

Admittedly it wasn’t much of one. It was still sort of sketchy. A work in progress. Not at all coldly thought out like Plan A had been. He’d put a little too much time into that plan and not enough into the consequences.

Plan B began by picking up a handful of gravel from the Kramer’s driveway to toss at Jolie’s window. He used to do it all the time before junior high. Before Jolie had turned herself into someone she wasn’t and someone he didn’t want her to be—a girl who didn’t want to be seen with him.

Stop it
, he warned himself.
You were twelve years old then. Grow up.

He tossed some of the gravel at her bedroom window, aware of the irony of this somehow being his idea of growing up. It pinged and spattered, falling into the bushes below. He waited. Nothing happened.

He threw another half handful and waited. No light came on, but he heard her voice, low, just above a whisper.

“Court. Stop it. Go away.”

“Come down and talk to me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll go ring the doorbell. I’ll wake your parents up and beg them to let me see you. Your mother will call my mother. My parents will come over. They’ll put on a pot of coffee, you know how they are. They’ll think they have to solve it for us because we’re still a couple of kids who can’t figure out anything—”

“Why are you here?”

Court whirled. Jolie stood twenty feet away, wearing a T-shirt and boxers, arms wrapped around herself in the cool night air. He thought he saw her shiver, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I had to talk to you.”

The breeze blew strands of hair around her. He approached her cautiously, as if she were an exotic cat and he a big game hunter.

“I get it, Court, okay? I hurt you. This whole week has been about payback. You wanted to teach me a lesson. You did. You can stop now.”