Making a Comeback (33 page)

She’d planned to tell her after the show Friday night but had woken up this morning with an aching need to see her. She barely made it through her morning classes before hanging an
office hours canceled
sign on her door and racing home. She’d packed and driven like a crazy woman down to Carmel.
I’m in love with her
. The thought made her insides go soft and her heart flutter, but it also made her tremble with fear. Was Hannah right that Jac had feelings for her, or would she make a fool of herself with an unwanted confession?

Liz let the engine idle, trapped in uncertainty. Finally, she turned it off and strode to the house. She couldn’t stand the way things had been at the last rehearsal. If they were going to be onstage together, she had to do this. The awkwardness between them would show in the music, and that wasn’t fair to Jac. There was too much at stake with her comeback. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the front door.

“Liz.” With the briefest look of surprise, Jac’s mom greeted her with a warm smile. Or maybe she wanted to believe it was warm.

“Susan. I’m so glad you’re here for the show. I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye in Hawaii.” A funny little hitch added itself to her heartbeat. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

“I hope you’ve come to see Jacqueline.” Trumpet notes filled the house and a piano joined in. Show tune. Jac and Peggy. “Join us. We’re having a late lunch.”

Liz followed Susan, hands clasped in front of her to steady them. Frank was eating a salad at the dining table. He nodded at her. Peggy caught her eye. Surprise, and then she smiled.

She was afraid to look at Jac. Her heart was already galloping from just being near her. She closed her eyes and listened as Jac improvised to the well-known melody, twisting and turning it in a sophisticated riff. When they stopped, Liz was trembling, barely able to believe what she’d heard. Hawaii had changed Jac’s playing. She was uninhibited, improvising with fearlessness and ease. She opened her eyes and looked at Jac, and her stomach did a slow roll. Oh, yeah, she was in love with her.

“One more,” Peggy said.

“No more,” Jac said. “I haven’t had lunch yet.” She was breathing hard, the trumpet against her chest. Wearing creased jeans and an orange linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to show those wonderfully muscled forearms, she was partly her old self and partly a new, more relaxed-looking self. So beautiful.

“One more or I’ll hide the butterscotch pudding,” Peggy said, motioning Liz over to the piano.

Heart pounding, Liz slid to the center of the bench and rubbed her hands on her jeans. Her wrist still hurt like hell with any movement. She didn’t care if this was the last thing she ever played. It was her most important performance ever.

“Do I have to put up with that, Mom?”

“Yes.” Susan poured iced tea from a pitcher and handed the glass to Peggy, who sat with them, her expression as welcoming as it had ever been.

“You always liked her best,” Jac said with mock petulance, tucking hair behind her ear. She wore her diamond studs and diamond ring. She looked confident, not at all like the lonely mess Liz was. “What tune?” She lifted the trumpet to her lips.

Liz froze, her fingers above the keys. Longing swirled through her, like an ocean current, and she couldn’t find her way out of it, trapped in forces about to pull her away from everything she’d known. It built like a crescendo until she couldn’t keep it in. She let go…love and desire swept down her arms and into “Carmel Sketches.”

Jac lowered the trumpet, a look of shock on her flushed face. She started to walk away.

Liz’s heart plummeted, but she didn’t stop. She needed to have this conversation with Jac, and if the only way to have it was through the piano, then that’s what she’d do. Those zinging pains in her wrist made her wince. The melody she’d heard in her mind leaving the cemetery filled her, and she let it come through, raw and fresh, the sound of the future she wanted. She played her part hoping, against the evidence of Jac’s back, that she’d play hers.

Susan went to Jac, took her arm, and whispered something. Jac stiffened. Susan spoke again, and Jac’s shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath, then dropped as she let it out.

Peggy, Susan, and Frank went to the patio, closing the French doors. Max moved to Jac’s side and sat, as if blocking her from leaving.

Liz kept going—apology for what she’d done in Hawaii. Telling Jac how much she’d missed her. Then confessing how much she’d wanted her in Hawaii.

Jac turned toward the piano and tilted her head, her mouth in that sad half smile.

Liz repeated that passage.
Yes, I wanted you so much it drove me to do something I shouldn’t have. I took advantage of someone I love. Yes, someone I love.

Finally, Jac lifted the trumpet and joined her.

She didn’t know how long they played, or even what they played—jazz, classical—it blended and separated, climaxed and softened, surged and ebbed, fusing into something new. She couldn’t take her eyes off Jac, blurred into soft edges by tears. When she’d said all she had to say, she dropped her hands to her lap. Only then did she realize her wrist was free of pain.

Jac didn’t stop. Her sound went sad, deeply sad, then angry sad.

She wanted to run to Jac, to hold and comfort her. She sat and listened, waiting for her future to be determined.

Jac’s sound shifted, becoming less sad, then ended in a flurry of dissonant confusion. She held the trumpet between her breasts, her chest rising and falling, her expression unreadable. “Why are you here?”

“I miss you.” She gripped the edge of the bench to keep from throwing herself into Jac’s arms. She wouldn’t force herself on her again. “I miss us.”

“Is there an us?” Jac’s voice was gentle but sad.

“There was. I want that again.”
Please tell me you forgive me.

“Your wrist. It’s better.”

“Not until just now.” She rubbed it, made fists. No pain. She wanted to laugh with relief, but the pain in her chest was still there. No sign of forgiveness. “I’m so sorry about Hawaii.”

Jac set her trumpet on the table and was out the door, long strides taking her across the patio before Liz was barely off the bench.

Liz caught up to her and tried to keep pace as Jac headed toward her cottage. “Please let me explain.”

Jac kept walking. Max trotted beside her.

She grabbed Jac’s arm, holding tight when Jac tried to yank free. “I want to be with you.” Damn it. That’s not the way she wanted to say this.

Jac pried Liz’s hand off and froze, frowning. She sandwiched Liz’s left hand between hers, then traced each finger. “Where’s your ring?”

Liz entwined their fingers. “I’m not wearing it. I—”

Jac’s face constricted into a dark, angry storm. “Don’t play with me. I’ve been some pathetic stand-in for Teri. Sounding board on your CD. Composing muse. Bedmate. I’m not here for you to take advantage of!”

Liz clamped her hand to her mouth as Jac fled. She flinched when the door to her cottage slammed shut.

*

“I’m so sorry, Peggy.” Liz ended the call, edged forward in the chair, and rested her chin on her hands. Fog saturated everything into a dull, damp, flat white. The wind chimes Jac had given her sounded in the breeze, making her want to cry.

“Jac won’t talk to Peggy. I’m so messed up. I hurt her again, Hannah. I’ve never seen her so upset.”

Hannah sat next to her and laughed at something on her phone.

“What do I do now? I love her, and all I do is hurt her.”

“She hasn’t been with anyone in a long time. You can’t expect her to know how to do it any better than you.”

“Thanks.”

“For cancelling my date and coming down here? You’re welcome.” Hannah texted something, probably to the date she wasn’t with. “This garden’s kind of cool. When you said you were restoring it, I had visions of the plants in perfectly straight rows and Grandma saying, ‘Don’t touch.’ Everything with her was ‘don’t touch’ and ‘don’t make a mess.’”

“It was?”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you don’t remember her yelling if we got within ten feet of her precious cranberry glass in the window. And who doesn’t have a lawn or sandbox for their grandkids?”

“She baked cookies for us.”

“Did she ever let us help?”

“I guess not.” Liz made a fist. Yeah, it hurt again. Maybe Peggy’s piano had some magical healing power.

“She was kind of a tyrant, Lizzie.”

“She was not.”

Hannah held up her hands in an appeasing gesture. “You were her favorite. You had a different relationship with her than Kevin or I did. You had the talent she could mentor. You found your ‘one true love,’” Hannah emphasized the words with her fingers, “at a young age. You fit the Randall family myth. Kevin found a way to belong by marrying young and staying with the restaurant. I was always on the outside.”

“You’re blaming Grandma for—”

Hannah shot to her feet. “I’m not blaming anyone for the choices I made.” She dipped her head to smell one of the new roses Liz had planted. “I’m saying all of us had a lot of expectations on us and not a lot of room to be ourselves.”

Liz sat back against the chair, surprised by Hannah’s comments. She’d been close to her grandma. She searched her memory for anything they’d done that didn’t involve music. “So, you left to…”

“Be my own person. You can’t have a real life until you have that.”

“But…” Liz lifted her gaze to Hannah, understanding for the first time what the rules had been. Approval, belonging, support had come at a price. She’d fit in. She’d worked hard to please her grandma and her dad. She’d become what they wanted, but not her own person.

“Come on.” Hannah tugged her to her feet and danced them across the patio and into the house. “Since I gave up my date, you get to take me to dinner.”

Liz pulled into a parking space on Ocean Street half a block from the restaurant. The convertible was so much easier to park than the Yukon. They were shown to an elegantly set table on the atrium patio warmed by heaters and dimly lit with candles. The host held her chair while she sat. She shot back up, bumping the table.

“What?” Hannah turned and looked toward the table in the corner. “We’ll go somewhere else.” Hannah took her arm and led her out. “Don’t melt down on me, Lizzie.” On the sidewalk she said, “It might not be what it looks like.”

Liz sucked in the cold air as her heart crumbled into little pieces. “No, it’s exactly what it looks like.” Jac and Gwen, her former physical therapist. Clinking wineglasses.

“Time to go,” Hannah said, ending the call.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Still in the sweats she’d slept in, Liz downed the last of the cold coffee and banged the mug back on the table. Hannah had forced her to sit on the patio, but that was as much as she could manage. Her chest ached. Her wrist ached. How was she going to get through tomorrow night?

“Come on. I’ll help you pick something to wear.”

“Hannah.” The damn wind chimes sounded again. It was a cheery blue-sky day and she felt awful. She’d handled things badly with Jac yesterday and she couldn’t get the image of Jac and Gwen out of her mind.

“That was Peggy.” Hannah sat next to her. “Jac’s heading out for her walk. You better hurry if you’re going to catch her.”

“I’m the last person she wants to be with, and ditto for me. Why is Peggy calling you?”

“Grow up, Lizzie. You had a fairy-tale life with Teri. You had a love where there was never a wrong note or missed step. Sometimes love is messy and off-key. Sometimes it makes you do foolish things, the exact opposite of what you want to do. Sometimes people push away because pulling close is too scary. You and Jac belong together.”

“Wait. You—Peggy? You—”

“Meddled. Good thing we did. You two are clueless.”

“Are you telling me…Hawaii? You and Peggy set that up?”

“Best vacation ever?” Hannah’s smile and gleeful eyes were like sunshine on a cloudy day and sprinkles on a cupcake.

“You’re…” Liz couldn’t finish as emotions choked her. She’d been so wrong about Hannah.

“Best sister ever? I know. Now go talk to that gorgeous trumpet player. As soon as I get you sorted out, I need to focus on Kevin. I’ll bring him and Karen back together. Dad and Rebecca? Not so sure.”

“Dad’s pretty stubborn.”

“He’s pretty scared of change and pretty locked into this ‘one-love’ nonsense Grandma started. Life’s short, and it’s time we all started grabbing what makes us happy.”

“How did you get so smart?”

“It’s what makes me a great chef. Paying attention to how things fit together. Now come on.” Hannah tugged Liz up. “You’ve got a date.”

*

Liz caught up with Jac several blocks from Peggy’s and fell into step beside her. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Jac looked sexy in jeans and a crisp white shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. Her military-straight posture and lengthening strides screamed, “Go away.” Max gave Liz a quick glance and then ignored her, focusing on his job.

“We need to talk.” Half a block of stony silence made Liz think this might be a bad idea. “We’re not performing tomorrow night with things like this between us. Either we work this out, or you can play solo.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

“Leave me alone.”

“I’ll be on your walks every day until we’re friends again.”

“Stalking me?” Anger was practically sparking off Jac.

“If that’s what it takes.” Two blocks later, Jac hadn’t said a single word, and Liz was almost running to keep up with her. Hannah’s words came back to her. “Sometimes people push away because pulling close is too scary.” Who could blame her? She hadn’t given Jac much reason to trust her. Okay, and Jac was stubborn, too. She tickled her ribs.

“Don’t.” Jac clamped her arm to her side.

A few steps later, Liz tickled her again. “Say you want to be my friend.”

Jac stopped. “I don’t want to be your friend! I want to be your lover!”

“And I want to be yours!”

“I’m not a stand-in for Teri!”

“I’m not Maria!” Great. Now they were in a childish shouting match. Liz turned to go, afraid she’d say something she’d regret. Oh, the hell with manners. She had nothing to lose. “And another thing—” She turned around and ran into Jac, who’d stepped toward her. She grabbed Jac’s waist to steady her.