Home To You (28 page)

She’d never planned to fall in love—not for a while anyway. She didn’t know how it happened, but in two weeks, Jack carved a place in her heart. And when he left—no matter how valid his reasons—he took that piece of her heart with him. She was on her own for the first time in twelve years, but that didn’t mean she was going to sit around, pining for the likes of Jack or anyone. Okay, she’d do her best not to.

She was going to take this time and focus on her work, start her practice, and surround herself with people she cared about. She would make her own decisions, step out of David’s shadow and into the sun, and forge her own path, and pray Jack found his way back home. Back to her.

When Jaime knocked, and she wiped the tears from her face and watched the door swing all the way open.

“Dinner’s ready. Are you doing okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I am.” She got up and looked around the room, their room, where she could still feel his presence so strongly. It probably would always be the case here. “Everything between Jack and me happened so fast. He said in the letter that we both need to figure out our lives separately before we can see if we fit together, and I know he’s right. I said the same thing myself. But
no matter how valid the reason, leaving someone you love sucks.”

“So, does that mean I need to buy a plane ticket to Chicago or not?”

She laughed through her tears, slipped the letter back into the envelope, and tucked it into her pocket. “No, but can I have a rain check? A girl never knows when she’ll need a henchman.”

J
ack looked up from his computer and smiled his thanks when Anne dropped a sandwich on his desk, while his fingers continued flying, pounding out the new succession plan.

“First day of spring and it’s snowing. Again. Welcome to Chicago. Tomorrow you’re running for lunch.” She walked out, heading back to the office.

A half hour later Jax stopped, stretched, and rubbed his whiskered chin—he might have to wear a suit and tie when he came to the office, but he couldn’t bring himself to shave, if only for the shock value. He kept his beard short and neatly trimmed, and just long enough for it to stay soft.

He read over the document and knew he’d get pushback from his uncles, but not enough to change his mind. It was the right decision for the company, and that was best for all of them—even his uncles. Jax had Rocki’s proxy, and together they owned two-thirds of the company.

“Anne,” he hollered, “would you come in here?” He picked up the folder containing the succession plan and grabbed his sandwich.

The intercom beeped. “Would you please use the intercom?”

“I’m not at my desk. Besides, what’s wrong with just hollering?”

She rolled her eyes on her way through the door and took a seat on the leather couch while he stuffed half the sandwich into his mouth. “I get enough of that at home. I have three teenagers, remember?”

He couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t give me that look. You know, when I brought you home to meet Mike and the kids, I thought you’d be a good influence on them, but instead I think they’ve been a bad influence on you. I still can’t believe you took the boys out and stood in line for hours to get that new Xbox game when it went on sale at midnight. I think they’ve created a monster.”

“It was fun, and I won a
Call of Duty
T-shirt.”

“You’re trying to recapture your misspent youth, aren’t you?”

He’d wondered about that too. He really had had a great time hanging with Anne and Mike’s kids. “When I was their age, I was so busy swimming and trying to get through school, I didn’t have time for anything else. I didn’t play a video game until Scotty dragged me down to the cave.”

“Yeah, I remember. I was the one who had to drag you both out.” She sat down. “Now, what do you want?”

“Two things, actually. One is business, so you need to look this over, think it over, and then we can meet and discuss it.” He handed her the unlabeled folder.

A what-are-you-up-to? look crossed her face. “Do you want me to look at this now?”

“No, it’s something you’ll probably want to discuss
with Mike before we meet.” He could tell she was itching to see what it was. “I talked to Rocki the other day. She and Slater are planning to bring Nicki up to the lake house for a couple weeks over the Fourth of July. I’ll be there, and I was wondering if you, Mike, and the boys would like to come out. I think the kids will have a great time, and there’s plenty of room.”

“Are you just inviting Mike and me so that you and the boys can have that
Call of Duty
tourney you’ve been talking about?”

His lips twitched. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He’d have to get an Xbox for the house and a bigger TV. Oh yeah, that would be awesome. “No, of course not. I just thought it would be fun for all of us.”

She wasn’t buying it.

“Sullivan Industries always sponsors the fireworks and the picnic downtown. I haven’t gone in years, but I loved it when I was a kid. There’s a lot to do—we can go sailing, waterskiing, biking, tubing, hiking, or we can just sit on the porch overlooking the lake and drink.”

“Are you sure you want us up there? Wouldn’t we cramp your style?”

He sat back and laughed. “I don’t have a style—at least I don’t think I do.” He looked out the window, and as often happened, his thoughts drifted to Kendall, and he wondered what she was doing. He knew she’d opened her practice and was working at the hospital too, but that was the only thing he’d been able to find out. Every time he asked Jaime how she was, he’d tell him that if he wanted to know, he should get his ass out there and find out.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you find out?”

He almost choked on his sandwich. He didn’t know if
he’d missed something or if Anne had read his mind. He wouldn’t put it past her. “Find out what?”

“Jackson, how long have you been back in Chicago?”

“Almost three months.” Eighty-one days, which was eleven weeks and four days, or—he checked his watch—1,950 hours, give or take fifteen minutes. “Why?”

“You’ve accomplished what you came here to do. I think you might actually be better than you were before your . . . um, vacation. Now you’re more in tune with the people on your team. You not only have great instincts, but over the years you’ve hired exceptionally qualified people with great instincts of their own. You’ve learned the art of listening, and they feel more comfortable coming to you. Since your vacation, you’ve become more approachable.”

“Maybe it’s the beard.” Jax watched Anne—he’d gotten to know her a lot better in the past eighty days. He’d watched her work people and knew she was using her power on him. It was a bit disconcerting. He’d seen her do the same thing with her son, Charlie.

“Jackson,” she patted his hand. “You know I love working with you, don’t you?”

Oh, shit. She wasn’t going to do something like quit on him, was she? “I hoped you did. Why do I feel like there’s a
but
coming?”

“Because you’re pretty perceptive. Jackson, when you returned from vacation, you had some lofty goals, and you’ve accomplished all of them. It was an amazing thing to watch. You’ve attacked your problem with a diligence and a sense of determination I’ve never seen anyone possess. You’ve caught up to, and in some ways even surpassed, the level you’d achieved before your vacation. But the one thing I’ve noticed more than anything else
is that no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you accomplish, you’re just not happy.”

“Anne—”

She held up her hand. “Now, just let me finish before you start arguing with me.”

She had that same tone of voice she used with her kids; the only thing she was missing were the words
young man.

“Jackson, you remind me of Charlie. He was asked to the Sadie Hawkins dance. It was in November, I think. So he got out his nice khakis and his best shirt, and spent an hour showering and doing his hair. Seriously, it takes him more time to primp than any girl I’ve ever seen. He goes to put on his clothes, and we find out that he’d had quite the growth spurt since the last time he’d worn them and couldn’t even button his pants. And the shoes—well, the boy wears a size fourteen shoe now. I had all of an hour and a half to buy him shoes, shirt, and pants.”

He must have looked confused.

“Jackson, Charlie outgrew his clothes, and you’ve outgrown this.” She held up her hands to encompass his office. “Maybe the job would be enough if you had something other than this company and the few friends you’ve made, but, let’s face it: as much as we love you, my family members are not really your contemporaries—although I do wonder sometimes when you spend time with Scotty, Charlie, and Sam. You need to go back to New England. You need to find out if Kendall is as lost without you as you are without her. I know you think about her all the time. You get this secret smile on your face and you look so happy, I hate to drag you out of it.”

“Anne—”

“So, I’ll get you a seat on the first flight to Boston tomorrow, shall I?”

“But I have meetings scheduled.”

“They’re nothing I can’t handle. I got pretty good at doing your job when you were on vacation, remember?”

“Yes, I do remember.” He knew she could handle everything here; besides, he would be only a phone call away. He was more worried about himself.

“You have unfinished business, Jackson, and I remember you saying you needed to return in the spring and finish the project you started. You still need to shingle the cabin, don’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Guess what. Spring has sprung. You’ve answered all the questions you returned with except one. And you’re not going to know the answer unless you go back to Harmony.”

*

Kendall packed up her briefcase, bit into an apple, and held it in her mouth while she stepped out of her office and locked the door. She crunched her way to the elevator, pushed the Down button, and stared at a picture of Jack—one of the big hospital donors. Evidently, his donation to the hospital was why she had a job; it allowed the small rural hospital to expand patient services. She wondered if he had any clue at the time how much money the Sullivan Trust donated to the facility that saved his life. Probably not.

She smiled at his picture, blew him a kiss, and headed home to Harmony. She had a lunch date with her mother and Addie at twelve thirty; patients at two, three, and five; and then a hot date with a glass of wine, leftovers, and a bubble bath.

She’d been cooking for one for almost three months
and still hadn’t gotten the hang of the single-supper routine. Finally she gave up trying to cook for one and started inviting Jaime over about once a week to help clear out the leftovers. He ate almost as much as Jack did, and, over the months, Jaime had become an even better friend than he’d been before.

Jaime had helped her move into her little clapboard house on Main Street. She turned the first floor into a nice little office and waiting room, and she lived upstairs in a two-bedroom apartment. It felt like home—she loved her nine-hundred-square-foot slice of heaven and everything in it. The only things she kept from her old place were the bookcases and the hall table, which she used in her office.

Jaime was always willing to lend her his truck whenever she found a piece of furniture she just couldn’t live without, so she was having a great time combing through antique stores and consignment shops. Kendall woke up every morning in a room filled with a sunshine-yellow antique dresser, vanity, and tallboy that Jaime and she lugged up the steps, and she slept on a bed whose headboard and footboard were fashioned from an intricate leaf-and-bird-covered antique wrought-iron gate she’d found in a falling-down barn.

She also loved spending time with her parents. She and her mom took an upholstery class together and used her secondhand down-filled classic sofa as their first project. She covered it in an apple green fabric that popped against the beige walls. It was the perfect napping couch, with rolled arms that were just the right height to rest a pillow on. She found an old, metal-wheeled wooden warehouse dolly the perfect size and height for a coffee table and refinished a beautiful farm table that stood in her dining area.

Kendall ran through her apartment into the bedroom and kicked off her heels. She tossed her business suit on the back of a chair and slid into a pair of slacks and sweater set with a pair of boots she bought on sale the last time she was in Boston. She finger-combed her hair and she ran across the street to Maizie’s Tea Room, worried she’d be late for her lunch date.

Maizie’s was a sweet old federalist clapboard with a wraparound porch perfect for summer dining, and fireplaces in almost every room for cozy winter meals. Today was a gorgeous early-spring day—another month, and the daffodils would be in bloom. She stepped inside and waved to the owner, who pointed in the direction of the back dining room.

Red velvet wallpaper covered three walls, and where it should have been gaudy, with the twelve-foot ceilings and ornate marble fireplace, it worked. She kissed her mother’s cheek before she slid into the chair between Grace and Addie. “Sorry I’m late.”

Both of them stopped talking and stared at her.

“What?”

Grace patted Addie’s hand. “Nothing, dear. How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in almost a week.”

“I’m fine. Business is picking up now that the weather’s turning nice, so I’m running from the hospital to the office and having evening appointments too. I have three today. It’s good—exhausting but good.”

Addie seemed to let out a relieved breath, which was weird—almost as weird as her going out to lunch on a weekday.

Kendall raised an eyebrow toward Addie. “How did you get out of school for lunch today?”

“It’s a half day. There’s no kindergarten, so I got out early.”

Grace gave Kendall her signature stare. The one that made you wonder if she had superhuman psychic powers. “You look tired, dear.”

Kendall squelched the squirm and scanned the menu for specials; she needed major protein. “I am tired. Just working a lot, but that’s good. The practice is doing well. I’m doing well. Mostly. Life would be perfect if David would stop calling me to chat late at night—” And if Jack would start. She’d even Googled him. The projections for the first-quarter reports for his company were supposed to be good. Other than that, she was at a loss. There weren’t even any Jack sightings. She combed the
Chicago Sun-Times
and had yet to see him at a charity function. There were no mentions of him in the society pages, and not even a word from her mother or Jaime—not that she’d had the nerve to ask.

Her mother and Addie stared at her again. Then Addie leaned forward. “Why?”