When It's Love (10 page)

It’s the day before Christmas and I wake up startled by my ringing phone. Henry wants to know where I’m meeting Jake. “Kuki’s at 10:00,” I say. “Why?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Jake is an old friend,” I say. “Why would you be worried? He’s never been anything but good to me.”

“Because I know there’s some dark secret between you two.”

“Henry,” I say with a yawn. “I’ve told you before, there is no dark secret between Jake and me. He knows a lot about me because we grew up in the same place, and we dated in high school. That is all.”

“Are you sure you want to be alone with him? I can join you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “Let’s talk later. I have to get dressed.” I wonder why Henry is being so possessive. Maybe because he’s not used to me having other friends.

I feed the cats, make some instant coffee, and take out my new jeans. My ass looks good in them and although Jake and I are long over, I still want to look hot when I see him. My computer is sitting on the table like an elephant in the room. Did Professor Sparling write back, or didn’t he? Although I’m desperate to find out, I implore myself to wait until after breakfast with Jake. If there is no message from Professor Sparling, I’ll be upset all through breakfast. And if there is one, I’ll be completely distracted. The best thing to do is to push it all aside, even if it means sitting on my hands to keep them off the computer and my phone.

I arrive at Kuki’s fifteen minutes early. The same gray-haired waitress who was here yesterday brings me a mug of coffee that I clutch between my palms, trying to warm them up. The temperature dropped overnight, and it’s officially freezing here. We may have a very snowy Christmas.

I’m sitting way in the back of Kuki’s. It’s not that I don’t want to be seen with Jake, but rather I’d felt like we might want a bit of privacy. Just as I’m wondering what Jake could possibly want to talk to me about, I hear a familiar deep voice say my name. I turn around in my seat and there is Jake, standing tall, lean, and as handsome as ever. His almond brown eyes are full of warmth as he stretches his strong arms out to me. Without hesitating, I stand up and throw myself into his embrace. He squeezes me tightly and without any warning, I begin to weep. I haven’t said as much as hello to my former lover before becoming overwhelmed with emotion. The familiarity of his embrace is so comforting. Back in Jake’s arms I feel like no time has passed. He still smells like Old Spice, and he still radiates goodness. Until this moment, I had no idea how much I’ve missed him.

“Oh, sweet Sydney,” Jake says as he kisses the top of my head. “Please don’t cry.”

I try to swallow my sobs, but I can’t. My body is trembling and if Jake weren’t holding me up, I’d crumble to the ground. I can hear the waitress asking if she can get me anything, but I’m crying too hard to answer. Jake holds me tightly and doesn’t let go until my breathing calms and I stop choking on sobs. It might be for a minute, five minutes, or ten. I have no sense of time now. Jake leads me back to my seat and ushers the waitress over to bring me a glass of water. I dab at my eyes with a napkin and try to smile as Jake chuckles and says, “That was quite a greeting.”

“Indeed it was,” I say, trying to internalize the fact that I just met my ex for the first time in ages, and immediately went to pieces and bawled in his arms. This could not be any more mortifying. Jake must think I’m pathetic.

“I didn’t mean for my coming here to upset you,” Jake tells me. “I came because there are some things you should know and I want you to hear them from me. But first let’s order.” Jake turns his head and looks around Kuki’s. “Nice place,” he says. “You always choose the table next to the restroom?”

“I thought we’d have more privacy here,” I say in a stage voice, hoping I’m masking my discomfort in faux haughtiness. I don’t want to seem any weaker than I already do, even though I know he’s just joking with me.

The waitress comes over again and asks if I’m okay. I nod and order a bowl of maple cinnamon oatmeal. Jake orders scrambled eggs with sausage. Then he reaches over the table and grabs my hands. “I was hoping to see you happy here,” Jake says. He looks significantly more mature than he did in high school. His shoulders have broadened and he’s lost all the boyish pudginess in his cheeks. Now his cheekbones are defined and his jaw looks stronger than ever. I remember how much I liked to trace my fingers along his jawline. And as I look at him, it’s easy to remember how much I loved him. But when I flashback on our happy times together, my thoughts get stuck on the fateful day at Lake Pleasant.

“I am happy,” I say. “Everything’s good. Seeing you seems to have brought up some memories, that’s all.”

“That’s actually one of the things I want to talk to you about.” Jake’s eyes darken and his serious tone sends a chill down my spine.

“Really? Did something happen?”

Our food arrives before Jake can answer. There’s no smell more comforting than maple cinnamon oatmeal, but all I can do is swirl my spoon around in it. Jake looks at me intensely, and I know he has weighty news. Whatever it is, I don’t want to know it, and I wish I hadn’t agreed to meet him today. Jake reaches over his plate and takes my hand. “Do you remember Angelina Roberts?” he asks.

A rush of nervousness flushes through me, followed by a sense of numbness, so that after a minute, I don’t feel anything at all. It’s a protective numbness and I don’t fight it. There are things I don’t want to feel all over again. I want to be an impenetrable wall that can’t absorb a thing.

“Of course, I remember Angelina,” I say quietly. Angelina grew up with us in Clarksville. She was a beautiful, talented dancer in high school and I always suspected she had a crush on Jake.

“Well, Angelina and I have been dating pretty seriously for about a year,” Jake says. “And she’s pregnant, about three months into it. So we’ll be getting married next month.”

I know my jaw should hit the table at this news, but it doesn’t. If this is Jake’s big news, I can handle it. I can be happy for them. And because I know Jake is the kind of man who does the right thing, it’s obvious that he’s going to marry Angelina. I would never expect otherwise from him. He’ll be a good husband and a doting father, and I know I should be feeling regret that I missed my chance with him, but I don’t. Numbness wins. I have no dramatic reaction and all I can give Jake is a weak smile. “How nice for you,” I say.

“I wanted you to hear this from me,” Jake says. He’s still holding my hand and he squeezes it now, as if he’s trying to reassure me of something.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” I say, and pull my hand back.

Jake looks downtrodden. His eyes seem to be pleading with me to say more. What else can I say, though? I don’t even know what he wants me to say. I’m only just beginning to wake up from a long slumber-like depression. My sadness still sits on my shoulders like a burden. I could never offer him what Angelina can. And if she’s pregnant, what place is there for me in Jake’s life?

“And there’s more,” Jake says cautiously. “This is something, well …” He stares down at his plate as if he can’t bear to continue.

I knew there had to be more. The tone in his voice when he began our conversation was too solemn for a marriage announcement of any sort. “I’m not sure I’m up for anything else,” I say, trying to stay numb, rather than become unnerved.

“I wish I didn’t have to tell you, but I do.” Jake says, with his eyes still focused on his sausage and eggs.

“It’s that serious?” I ask. I feel my throat constricting as I speak. “Is it about the past? Does it have to do with Abraham Rudd?”

Jake nods. “It’s actually about your father,” he says. He stares sympathetically at me with his warm brown eyes, but all I feel is a chill.

I sense my expression changing to one of complete shock. I’m definitely not numb anymore. I’m feeling dread from head to toe. My mouth drops open, but no sound comes out of it. My heart sinks, my stomach does a nauseating somersault, and then in an instant I’m shaky, dizzy, and utterly confused. “What about my father?” I barely manage to whisper.

“There’s a rumor going around that he’s back in Michigan,” Jake says grimly. Jake begins to recount the story he heard from his father, who’d overheard some of the old local guys blathering over beers at Starry Nights Tavern. One of the guys said he was at the Rudd’s place in Rapids City, which was spitting distance from Clarksville. Then the guy asked if anyone remembered the Rudd story from way back, about the Rapids City boy who’d fled to Canada. Sure they did. The Rudd boy’s “wanted” picture had been plastered all over the news for weeks until the police gave up their search for him. Well, that boy, now a middle-aged man, was back at his parents’ house just sitting there in a wicker chair on the porch as if he’d never left.

I don’t know what I did or said after Jake dropped that bomb. Apparently, I blacked out because when I open my eyes I’m stretched out on the floor of Kuki’s. My head is in Henry’s lap and he’s stroking my cheek. “Wake up, Sydney,” he’s saying softly. “It’ll be okay. I’m here. Open your eyes, baby.”

“Henry,” I gasp as I look up into his bright blue eyes. His forehead is wrinkled with concern. “What are you doing here? Where is Jake?”

“Jake’s gone,” Henry said. “I arrived just in time to kick his shitty ass out of here.”

“It’s not his fault,” I mumble, struggling for words. “He was trying to help.”

“Some help,” Henry snarls. “I’m getting you home to rest.”

Henry walks me out to the bench of Kuki’s and asks the waitress to sit with me while he goes to get his car. “I’ll be back in five minutes,” he says. “Don’t try to go anywhere.”

I’m dizzy and terrified. How can this be happening?

Henry is treating me like I’m a delicate flower. His arm is around my waist as he walks me up the stairs to my apartment. Then he helps me take off my parka and even unties my boots so I can kick them off.

“None of this is necessary,” I say.

“I found you collapsed on the floor of Kuki’s,” Henry says. “It is all very necessary. I might even take you to the emergency room.”

“No!” I say with an edge of hysteria in my voice. “I’m really fine. I was just shocked to see Jake and I felt a little dizzy. I haven’t been eating much lately.”

Henry frowns and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He takes a few steps away and turns his back to me, but I can still hear what he’s saying. “I’m with Sydney and she’s feeling a little under the weather. Can you ask Jerry to send over some food to her place? Whatever he has ready right now. And if he could make some soup and send it later, that would be great. Thank you.”

“You really didn’t have to do that, Henry,” I say. “I don’t need your cook to send over food for me.”

“Actually, you do. You’re exhausted and starving.” Henry says. “Do you want to shower while we wait for the food? You were on the floor of Kuki’s. Pretty clean place, but the floor is definitely not the cleanest.” Henry wrinkles his nose.

“Good idea,” I say.

“Are you steady enough to stand in the shower?” Henry asks, his voice full of concern.

“Of course, I am,” I say as my body wobbles. Henry jumps over to grab my arm.

“Easy, baby,” he says sweetly.

“Oh, Henry,” I whimper as a sob creeps up from my chest to my throat. Then before I know what’s happening the tears are spilling out of my eyes again. Within seconds I’m full on weeping. Henry pulls me into a close embrace. His strong arms around me give me a sense of security, even though I’m terrified. If Jake had told me only about his engagement to Angelina and not about my father, I might feel some mournfulness now. After all, there is that little part of me that still held onto the idea that one day Jake and I might be forever. But I can’t begin to think about Jake getting married – and becoming a father – when I have my own father to think about. If Jake is right, and my father really is back in town twenty-three years after he fled to Canada, I might have to call the police and report him. I wonder if my mother knows about this. Am I going to have to be the one to tell her? I think of turning in my father – whom I’ve never met – to the police, and a shiver runs through my body. Henry feels it and squeezes me tighter. Turning my father in would be the right thing to do. He deserves to be in prison.

“It’s OK,” Henry says, not letting go of me. My ear is over his heart and I can hear its steady beat. Against his chest I feel protected and I don’t want him to let me go. “You have to tell me what Jake did to you, Sydney,” Henry says. “I have to know.”

“It’s not what Jake did,” I say through my sobs. “Jake is a really good guy.”

“Then what is it?” Henry asks sounding puzzled.

I start to sob again, not in sadness, but in deeply felt fear.

Henry realizes that these cries are different and stops pressing me. “All right, baby,” Henry says in a hush. “Just calm down now. We’ll talk later.” He is so sweet and tender, stroking my forehead and running his thumb under my eyes to catch my tears.

I stand in Henry’s arms until my sobbing relents and I can catch my breath. “I have to get a tissue,” I say as I pull back.

“Sit down,” Henry says. “I’ll get it.”