The Summer of Jake (18 page)

I filled my lungs with air, held it, then pushed it out quickly. I hated to ask yet needed to know. “But what if I turn out to be a failure? Not in business, but as a husband. A father. A man.”

“Why would you think that?” She frowned, shaking her head.

“He told me I would. The night he left for the last time, he said I’d never amount to anything and that I was just like him.”

“He was angry and drunk, Jake. He was barely able to string a sentence together that night. Do you want to know what he really thought of you?”

I gave a small nod.

“When he was sober, he used to spend time just watching you. He thought you were the most amazing child in the world. When Kelly came along, he was pleased, but I think you were so special to him because he had hopes you’d succeed where he’d failed. He told me you were better at everything than he’d been as a child. He was so very proud of you. Maybe his pride was crushed by bitterness that night, but don’t doubt it was there.”

I could feel the blackness dissipating, but didn’t want to jinx any new hope by jumping on it too soon.

“Honey, I should have told you this sooner, but you never wanted to talk about him.”

I absent-mindedly rubbed her hands with my thumbs. “That’s because…” Even now I couldn’t help the hesitation. “I was always scared you’d say I was like him and I’d turn out the same way.”

“Jake, you’ve turned out better than I could have ever dreamed. And I’m not talking about your stores or your surfing. I’m talking about
you
. How could you think you’re a failure? You’ve been such a wonderful brother to Kelly, and she really needed that, being only four when your father left. You’re a wonderful son to me. And you’re a great friend. I’ve watched you your whole life, and the love in your heart is so big, it amazes me. It seems you’re the only one who doesn’t realize that. I do. Kelly and Adam do. Annalise does.”

My gaze abruptly lifted to meet hers. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not blind,” she laughed. “She’s been in love with you since she was a teenager, and, if I’m not mistaken, you return her feelings now?”

My shoulders slumped. “I’m hardly in a position to offer anything to anyone until I sort out all this stuff in my head.”

“You do what you need to do, honey. But remember that you’re an exceptional man. Maybe Donna didn’t know you well enough to see that, but Annalise and I do. If fact—” she grinned “—for Annalise to keep waiting all these years, you must be pretty special. A man worth waiting for.”

I stood and helped her to her feet before lifting her into a hug so tight she laughed and said she had trouble breathing, then, on impulse, I twirled her around.

“Thanks, Mum.” I planted her on the ground again and kissed her forehead.

“You’re welcome,” she gasped, still laughing.

…

Annalise

I could imagine Kelly’s incredulous expression on the other end of the phone line as I spoke. “You’re honestly turning down cake for a spring clean?”

“Yes, Kelly,” I said patiently.

“It’s only a two bedroom apartment, and you’re really neat—how urgent can the spring clean be?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not my apartment that’s in a mess, it’s me.
I
need to do a spring clean.”

“You’ve lost me. I grab any opportunity to skip housework.”

“I just need to feel in control of something—
anything
at the moment.”

“Oh. Have you seen Jake then?”

I blew out breath. “Yesterday. I went to see my designs and ran into him.”

“And…?”

“And we spoke. And he left.”

“Lisey, I’m sorry it’s not working out. I know, how about I bring cake to you?”

I knew she wanted to be a part of this, yet I couldn’t let her. The pain of seeing Jake’s sister was too much right now. It’d ease, I knew it would, and there was no way I’d let us drift again, but…

It was just too soon.

“Thanks for the offer, but I need to get my head together. I need to prepare for life post-Jake, and I’ll be better off doing that alone.”

“Hmm. Well, give me a call if you change your mind.”

She understood. She was a good best friend. “I promise I will.”

I took my bucket of cleaning supplies to the bathroom, and Rover and I sat on the tiled floor. I opened drawers one by one and threw out anything I could—old moisturizer, out-of-date sunscreen, and hair bands that had lost their elastic. Rover salvaged a fluffy hair tie from the first drawer and took it out to the living room.

With everything I threw in the bin, I felt like I was cleaning out my head. Throwing out girlish fantasies, making room for adult realities. I scrubbed and cleaned each surface, making myself feel faint from chemical inhalation and exertion.

With nothing left to clean, I moved on to the kitchen. I stood looking at the counter where Jake had first kissed me. I’d been full of emotion that night—fear, pain, excitement, wanting. This whole rollercoaster ride with Jake had been jam-packed full of emotion, but now there was just emptiness. It was as if I’d reached my limit of emotion, and nothing remained. Maybe I’d do the kitchen later.

After a clean-through of the living-dining room, I carried the bucket into my workroom. I drifted from the mannequin to the designs in the closet. At least one good thing had come from the rollercoaster—my designs were on sale and gaining publicity. I had a meeting scheduled with Tracey in a few days to go over plans for the next couple of seasons and there was every chance I’d now be able to make sales to buyers for other stores.

And I’d finally seen reason about Mindy. Much as I loved her, she was beyond her prime, and I’d told Adam to sell her for parts. At least she’d had a good life—I’d taken her on lots of sun-dappled roads and given her a continual supply of perfumed deodorizers.

The thing was, I’d been seeing her through rose-tinted glasses, which made decisions harder.

And there were things I’d been seeing through…gray-smudged glasses?

Like Scarlett, who wasn’t evil and deserving of being eaten by killer tomatoes. She was human. Go figure.

And my parents. After that dinner where I’d hugged my mother, I’d really begun to clear the gray smudges from my vision.

Which led me to the gray smudges I’d always seen myself through—believing I was too much of a dreamer and not grounded in reality, or feeling like a teenager again. If I was totally honest, I had to admit that I was driven about my designs and dedicated to establishing my career, so I must have had at least one foot on the ground. Someone needed to write a book,
Women Who See Themselves Through Gray Smudges
. Maybe I should. No, it needed to be someone who knew what to do about it, and that sure wasn’t me.

And then there were the biggest glasses of all. The rose-tinted ones I’d seen Jake through—not seeing him as a complex person with faults. Though I supposed that made them gray-smudged as well, because seeing him as a love god and not seeing those faults, his complexities, was undervaluing him. Losing both those lenses could only be a good thing.

I sighed and sat down, rubbing my hands over my face. Even though there was a physical ache in my chest, I’d needed this experience with Jake. Maybe from now on his presence wouldn’t lurk in the background when I was dating someone. Maybe now I’d finally be able to have a functional relationship. At least my mother would be happy about that. And to be honest, this experience probably
had
freed me to be happy with someone else. I’d look forward to that.

Tomorrow.

I put down my cleaning bucket, walked back to the kitchen, and made a stockpile of all the chocolate I could find, then carried it all over to the lounge. I curled up with Rover and her new fluffy hair tie before flicking through the TV stations until I found an old black and white weepie.

Then I allowed myself to grieve.

Chapter Seventeen

Annalise

Three weeks later and, in between shifts in Barbara’s shop, I was still watching black and white movies and bingeing on chocolate-coated licorice. Even Rover had had enough and left me for her spot beside the window.

It was late afternoon, and I was putting on another weepie DVD from a stack I’d rented when Rover put her paws up on the window screen and kitty-barked.

“
Rrrreht
.”

I walked to the window and saw Kelly locking her car, a bunch of red roses in one hand. At least she hadn’t brought cake this time. She’d been dropping by with cake or cookies a couple of times a week.

By the time she’d made it up the stairs, I had the door open and was waiting for her. I greeted her with a hug. “Thanks, Kel, but you didn’t have to bring me flowers. I’m doing fine.”

She grinned. “I didn’t. Well, I did, but they’re not from me.”

I frowned as I took the bunch—a dozen. “Mind explaining?”

“Jake asked me to drop them off, along with this letter.” Her grin grew wider as she handed me a sealed white envelope.

Jake sent them? A feeling strangely like panic flared to life.
Jake sent me flowers?
A blush crept up my neck, and my pulse quickened. But if Jake wanted to give me flowers, why hadn’t he brought them himself?

Then I focused on Kelly’s grin, and I narrowed my eyes. “You know something, don’t you?”

“Maybe I do,” she sing-songed. “But if you read this, you’ll soon know more than I do.”

My lungs constricted, but I forced myself to relax, to not read too much into the gesture. I took the envelope. “Thanks. Do you want a drink?”

“I can’t. Sorry, but I have to run an errand, no time to stop. Call me later?” She grinned again.

“Sure.” Much as I loved her company, I was unbelievably relieved to read the letter in private. “Thanks again for dropping these off.”

After she left, I got down a vase and filled it with water for the roses before opening the envelope. In the three weeks since I’d seen him that day in his shop, we hadn’t had a word of contact. I sat on the couch and tucked my feet up beneath me, no idea—and a million ideas—of what he’d written.

My hands were shaking like a bad circus ride. “Stop it,” I told them. They didn’t obey me in the slightest, so I opened the envelope with them shaking. There was a letter and a photo. I took out the letter and read the angular handwriting.

Annalise,

You were right about a lot of things. You’ve made me question my life more than you probably realize. I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past few weeks, and I’ve come to some decisions. I have you to thank for pushing me to this point, so I wanted to let you know the effect of your words. I asked you to make me over on the outside, and, instead, you did it on the inside.

Jake

With my heart thumping, I looked at the photo. It was a picture of a gravestone. Curious, I turned it over to find writing on the back.

This is my father’s. I hadn’t been there since his funeral when I was seven. The reason I took Donna’s words to heart was they reiterated my father’s words from years ago. I spent a few hours at his grave and made my peace with him. More importantly, I made peace with myself and let go of his legacy.

I turned the photo back over and looked again at the gravestone. I’d never met Jake’s father—he’d been long gone by the time I met Kelly, but I’d read articles in the papers and heard stories about how he’d treated his family. I felt a wave of admiration for the courage it must have taken Jake to face his father, even in death.

My eyes misted over, and my heart swelled in my chest. I could feel a sense of pleasure from helping him take his life back, but it was drowned out by an aching sadness. A sadness from wanting to share this moment with him. To see if it changed the expression on his features, to be the one he allowed into his new happiness.

I put the photo and letter back into the envelope and looked over at the flowers. I’d have to be content that one of us had found happiness. And that
was
wonderful. The misting in my eyes turned to tears, and I desperately tried to hold them back. I’d cried enough lately.

After I ran some cold water over my face, I felt a little better, but I needed to talk to Jake. Had to tell him how happy I was for him and wish him well. Because I
did
wish him well. I wanted him to have the best the world could offer, whether I was there with him or not.

Bracing myself, I called him. I got a recorded message. “You’ve reached Jake Maxwell. I can’t take your call right now, but you can reach me today at my office.”

Letting out the breath I’d been holding, I called his work number, and Janine answered on the second ring.

“Jake Maxwell Surf, Janine speaking. How may I help you?”

I managed to produce a professional—well, at least steady—voice. “Hi, Janine. It’s Annalise Farley. Is Jake available?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Farley, he’s not here at the moment. But he did leave something for you.”

Disappointment struck with her first words, but then my breath caught in my throat. “Really? What is it?”

“I can’t say.” Her efficient, business-like tone gave nothing away. “Would you like me to send it over, or would you prefer to pick it up?”

Actually, I wanted it teleported right now, but, since that wasn’t an option, then picking it up was probably the quickest. “I’ll come over now and get it.”

I grabbed my keys, patted a disappointed Rover—no kitty-leash again—and rushed down the stairs toward the Volvo. But then I stopped and stared. Parked in front of my garage was a bright, shiny, sparkling Mini.

Mindy! And she was yellower than ever.

He saved her.

Tears sprang again, and, this time, I couldn’t have stopped them had I tried. I wiped my cheeks with my fingertips as I walked around her. She looked brand new—her upholstery had been redone, she’d had a coat of paint, new wheels—the works. And, if she’d been driven here, that meant her engine was fixed or new, too. Her keys were in the ignition, and her hood was warm. I looked up and down the street but couldn’t see anyone. Then I looked at the back seat.

Three more bunches of roses.

And an envelope on the dashboard with my name in Jake’s handwriting. I picked it up and slid into the driver’s seat. It had another photo inside.

This one was of a small bonfire. Turning it over, I read the inscription.

This is a fire I lit to burn the photos I still had of Donna. I know it’s probably stupid, but I want to free myself from what she said. I’m not going to let it affect me anymore. Either making me do things, or to not do things.

Turning it back to the picture side—though the image was blurry through my tears—I was filled with pride that Jake had been on this mission to take back control of his life. And honored that he’d chosen to share his progress with me. If I didn’t want to hold him in my arms so much, I’d have felt pretty damn good. But I did—and more. I wanted to talk to him, laugh with him, be held by him, make love with him…just
be
with him.

Maybe it was better he wouldn’t be in his office—I could pick up what he’d left me, write him a note of best wishes and leave.

With a strange jumble of trepidation and excitement, I wiped my eyes and turned Mindy’s ignition. She purred to life, almost in silence. No
rattle-tat-tat
. I gave her a little love-pat on her steering wheel then drove to Jake’s office, parked, and took the elevator.

The first thing I noticed as I pushed open the glass doors was a dozen red roses on Janine’s desk.

“Ah, Ms. Farley. These are for you.” She gestured to the flowers.

A definite pattern was emerging. I bit down on my lip, trying to hold back this latest bout of my tear-epidemic in front of Janine. “Thank you.”

She smiled and slid her eyes to the door on her left. “There’s something else for you in Mr. Maxwell’s office if you’d like to go in.”

Despite my heart leaping into my throat like a tree frog on speed, I managed to reply, “Um, thanks.”

Right foot, left foot, right foot until I reached the wooden door to his private office and pushed it open.

On his desk, with a big purple bow, was a bottle of Margaret River Semillon. The wine I’d taken to Kelly’s. The wine he’d tasted and hated in my kitchen. I picked it up and stared—unseeing—at the label. He’d remembered a wine that he didn’t even like but knew I did. God, I loved him.

A white envelope tied in the purple ribbon caught my attention. I sank into Jake’s high-backed executive chair and opened it to find yet another photo of what looked like a contract sitting on a desk. Looking closer, I could read the heading at the top, “Contract for Sale”, but couldn’t read the fine print. Mind whirring, I turned the photo over.

This is the contract for the sale of my business. I signed it this morning. My heart was never in the company. I was using it to prove something to myself and the world, as you guessed. I’d had an offer from Artie Campbell before, so I made a call. He was still interested, and it’s going through quickly.

I thought back over all three photos, shaking my head in amazement at the way Jake had handled his fears. Had I once accused him of being a coward? I’d been wrong. He was ten times braver than I was.

I was so full of conflicting emotions, I didn’t know what to feel.

Janine rapped on the door. “There’s a call for you, Ms. Farley. Shall I put it through to this extension?”

“Um…sure. Yes, please.” Only one person would look for me here—the same person who’d left me a present here. My whole body broke out in goose bumps.

When it rang a moment later, I picked up the receiver. “Jake?”

“Hey, Annalise.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

I sat back in the luxury chair and closed my eyes. “I’ve been following your trail.”

“I was hoping you would.” His voice was as deep and smooth as always, and I let it wash over and through me, setting off the predictable desire and adoration and
love
.

“Jake,” I took a deep breath, “I’m truly happy for you. And I’m sorry I ever called you a coward—”

“Don’t be,” he cut in. “I was pretending I didn’t have options instead of making new ones, and that’s cowardice. You challenged me out of it. I owe you a lot.”

I shook my head even knowing he couldn’t see the action. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Well, how about you let me give you one last thing, and then we call it even?” His voice dropped a note, became a little raspy.

Call it even? That sounded kind of final, but then what had I expected? I cleared my throat. “What is it?”

“Do you have time to swing by the marina?”

The marina. Great. Like seeing Jake at the scene of our night of passion would make this any easier. “Sure.”

I drove down to the marina, fighting the urge to turn around. If I didn’t go, I wouldn’t have to face the pain of
calling it even
. And, yet, there was a seed of hope in my heart, looking for its chance to grow.

After I parked, I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, then walked along to Jake’s berth.

When I caught sight of him, I slowed, my heart thumping. He was standing on his boat, wearing a dark suit and crisp white shirt, with an armful of red roses—there must have been more than thirty roses in that bunch—and a slow, sexy smile spreading across his face.

Jake had worn a suit? The moment was surreal as hope and fear mingled in my stomach.

I came to a stop at the edge of his boat, and our gazes held across the small divide for what seemed like an eternity. Then he reached out his free hand, and, not breaking eye contact, I stepped aboard.

The afternoon had drifted into early evening and the twilight surrounding us gave a fairytale atmosphere. And if I was going to be in a fairytale, there was no one else I wanted to be there with than the man in front of me.

Fingers of one hand still linked, he gave me the roses. “These are for you.”

I took them and bit my lip. “I don’t think I have enough vases for all of them—all together that’s a lot of roses.” I raised them to my nose and drank in their scent. Heaven.

“Including the ones Kelly dropped off, the ones in Mindy, the ones in my office, and these, there are ninety-nine.” He gave a lopsided grin. “I’ll buy you more vases. It seems I just made a lot of money in the sale of a business.”

I remembered the photo of the contract and its note and felt so proud of him that I smiled. “What will you do now?”

He ran his hands through his hair. “First, I’m taking some time off. I think I’ll do a bit of traveling—I want to see the places I visited on the pro circuit again. Then I’m considering setting up another surf school somewhere interstate or overseas. But, this time, I’ll be doing all the teaching.” He grinned.

So this was an elaborate good-bye? My knees wobbled, and I hoped they’d hold my weight for a little longer. “Where?”

“Maybe Queensland—the Gold Coast or Noosa.”

“Oh.” My vision was a little hazy around the edges. Lack of blood supply to the limbs and hazy vision—weren’t they signs of a heart attack?

“I’ll always see this place as home, with Mum and Kelly here, but I’d need to stay there a few years to establish it.”

“Oh.” And now I thought about it, my heartbeat did seem irregular. Maybe I should get off the boat onto solid ground.

“You’re doing that
Oh
thing again.” He smiled.

Despite the health implications, I pulled myself together. “That sounds great, Jake. You deserve something like that.”

He titled his head to the side, eyes still locked on mine. “Kelly told me a while ago I deserved something else, too.”

“What was that?” I moistened my lips—salty air was murder for drying out lips.

“You.” He touched his fingers gently to my cheek.

“Me?” I squeaked.

His fingertips trailed up and down my cheek, barely touching. “Yep. She said we deserved each other. And I’m pretty sure she was right.”

Hardly daring to believe, I swallowed before asking, “Pretty sure?”

His hand moved to make the contact firmer, cupping the side of my face. “I know what I want, but I don’t know what you want anymore. I’ve been a total jerk, and I don’t know if you still feel the same.”