The Year We Turned Forty (32 page)

BOOK: The Year We Turned Forty
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“Grant invited me to your party tomorrow night,” Peter said casually as they looked over their menus.

“What?” Jessie said quickly. “When?”

“I saw him a few days ago at the athletic complex. I didn't know he played basketball there.”

“And my party came up how?” Jessie frowned.

“We were shooting the shit and he mentioned it. In fact, he thought Cathy and I were already coming,” Peter said, raising his eyebrows. “I didn't know you'd told him you watched Sean so Cathy and I could go out. What else does he know about
us
?”

“First of all, we are not an
us,
” Jessie scolded. “This thing we're doing,” she said, holding her hands out, motioning toward the table, “is about
him.
” She nodded at Lucas, who was gnawing on a rubber giraffe. “And the answer is, Grant knows enough. I told him you and I were volunteering together in the classroom, which is true, we have several times, and that I'd seen Cathy around a lot more since she's not traveling.”

“Jessie, calm down. I realize we're not a couple, but we are Lucas' parents. And we are real friends,
aren't we
?”

Jessie thought for a moment. This relationship with Peter was like a delicate dance, and she was constantly trying not to misstep. And she had to admit, she liked him. He'd always been kind and understanding until she'd gotten pregnant, and then he'd transformed into someone she barely recognized. But this time, they'd gotten to know each other on a much deeper level. Because Lucas couldn't yet talk, they had a lot of silence to fill. So they'd broached other topics, and Jessie was surprised how little she had known about him, like the fact that he'd grown up with a single mom and had never known his own father. Sometimes she wanted so badly to tell him what a great kid Lucas turned out to be, at least in her other life—that
he was gracious and sweet with a wicked sense of humor. And now that she really knew Peter, she had to attribute some of those traits to him.

“Yes, we're friends, Peter. Of course. But that doesn't mean you should come to my birthday party.” She still didn't know what was going to end up happening, if she was going to stay here or go back, but having Peter there, the person who'd come between her and Grant last time, would only complicate things.

“It's too late. I already told him I would. And honestly, I want to. Cathy would love it too; things are going better with her.”

“Because you're actually making an effort,” Jessie said, and cocked her head at him.

“You don't have to rub it in that you were right,” he said, referring to Jessie's advice about fighting for his marriage. “So, can we come? Please?”

Jessie considered it. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to let him attend. Plus, she was always looking for ways to help get his marriage back on track, and if this was going to help, so be it.

“Okay, you can come. But you better bring a kick-ass gift!” Jessie said, wiping some drool off Lucas' chin.

“I promise to be on my best behavior,” he said, and held up his right hand.

“Whatever.” Jessie rolled her eyes playfully. “Just stay on your own side of the room.”

“Don't worry. I'll let you have your night,” he said, reaching over to brush Lucas' hair out of his eyes. “Can't believe the little man is almost one! Time is really flying.”

Jessie studied the menu. “Yes, it is,” she answered, thinking how quickly the year had passed. How far she and Grant had
come in the past few months. How much she had learned. About herself. About marriage. About life. But would those lessons be enough if or when her world came crashing down again? She looked at Peter's angular face, pushing aside the tinge of worry she felt inside, ignoring the feeling that she was going to regret letting him inside their home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“You can put them over there,” Jessie called out to the florist, who was carrying two boxes of yellow tulips across her lawn the next morning. “I'll arrange them on the tables later. As long as it doesn't rain,” she muttered as she sipped her coffee, tipping her head toward the sky that was peppered with dark clouds. The forecast called for thunderstorms that evening, a weather pattern that hadn't been seen in the month of June in years. Jessie hoped it wasn't an omen.

“Crazy, isn't it?” Grant walked up behind her and pointed to the sky. “I can't remember the last time we had heavy rain this time of year.” He set his hands on her shoulders and began to rub as they both stared at the looming clouds. “Don't worry, no matter what, it will all work out.”

Jessie leaned into his strong hands as he massaged her. “Promise?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. She'd woken with trepidation an hour earlier, pulling Lucas into bed with her and trying not to think about the choices they all had to make that evening. The thought of leaving baby Lucas, even if it meant
she'd be returning to ten-year-old Lucas, devastated her. Eventually, her mile-long to-do list for the party propelled her to get up, but she still felt off, like she already had her postparty hangover.

“I promise.” Grant turned and kissed her neck and Jessie closed her eyes, memorizing the way his hands felt against her skin, knowing if she returned home, to the way things were before, she would never again feel his touch. That he would be back with Janet, his fingers grazing her high cheekbones and his hands caressing her model-like body. “Rain or not, this night will be magical. Just wait and see,” he said before walking back into the house.

“That's what I'm afraid of,” Jessie murmured to herself as she stared at the pile of tables waiting to be assembled, the sound of distant thunder rumbling through the sky, deciding she'd better order a tent.

•  •  •

Gabriela wrestled with the zipper of her favorite violet dress, the one that used to hang loosely and now clung to her hips like plastic wrap. Frustrated, she peeled it off, throwing it on her bed along with the other discards, finally settling on a shapeless black dress that reminded her of a potato sack. “It will have to do,” she said to her reflection in the mirror, running her finger under her eyes, hoping she'd be able to disguise the dark circles there. Ironically, she probably looked closer to fifty today than she did when she was actually that age, the lack of sleep having taken a serious toll. She'd barely slept the night before, her
abuela
making an appearance in her dream when she did finally fall into slumber. Her grandmother, with her long silver hair and gray eyes, would beckon Gabriela over, but when Gabriela would get close enough to hear what she was trying to say, she'd fade away
into the darkness, Gabriela feeling like she was running through waist-deep mud to find her. Finally, right before she woke, she got close enough to wrap her arms around her, squeezing tightly as she felt the tears on her cheeks, not realizing how much she had missed her. As she rested her head against her shoulder, her
abuela
's voice materialized, like a soft breeze brushing your ear. Gabriela bolted up in bed with one word playing over and over in her head:
Stay.

Had she meant to stay here? In this life?

She'd been so sure she wanted to go back. Colin had stopped by unexpectedly to give her an early birthday present, explaining that he hadn't missed giving her a gift in over fifteen years and despite their separation, he wasn't planning to start now. Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him stand awkwardly in the doorway clasping a small box in his hand, waiting for her to respond. She'd smiled, the corners of her lips quivering as she waved him inside, her hands shaking slightly as she untied the bow, slid off the top, and pulled out her grandmother's necklace. She'd gasped, the gold chain and locket slipping from her grasp. She and Colin had bent down at the same time to pick it up, their hands brushing. She'd lost the beloved necklace several months before, scolding herself because she'd known the clasp was loose, tearing her house apart looking for it. Finally, after days of searching and retracing every step she'd made, she'd given up the hunt, deciding it must be a sign that she didn't belong in this life. But it had resurfaced, and so had her
abuela
, and now she was more confused than ever.

“How did you . . .”

“I found it wedged between two pairs of my running shorts. It must have fallen into the dresser drawer before I moved out.”

“Thank you,” Gabriela said as she fingered the chain.

“I was worried you might be lost without it.”

“I was,” Gabriela said, stealing a small glance at him before looking down, knowing she was talking about so much more than the locket. Still surprised that their long marriage was able to unravel in such a short amount of time.

“I hope this helps you find your path again,” Colin said, and touched her arm, the feel of his hand sending a shiver through her. She stepped backward, hoping he hadn't noticed how much his touch affected her.

Desperate to change the subject, Gabriela found herself confessing to him that she wasn't going to meet her editor's deadline. That she'd sent Sheila an email with the news just that afternoon and had attached, in its place, the other manuscript she'd been working on, that she'd finished that morning, finally deciding on how to end the story. She admitted her career might be over, but that she was at peace either way. Of course, she couldn't tell him that it wouldn't matter in twenty-four hours when she returned to her former life, that she'd be signing copies of her bestsellers and doing TV interviews again, that this new manuscript she'd crafted, the best thing she'd ever written, would likely never see the light of day. Maybe that's why she'd sent it to Sheila. She wanted someone to read it before she left, even if she'd never remember doing so. Colin had listened silently as the story spilled out of her, finally taking her in his arms and saying he was sorry, that he knew this year had been hard and he wished he could take a magic eraser and make it disappear. This time, instead of pushing him away, she let her head melt into his chest and felt his fingers thread through her hair and smiled—an eraser like that did exist. And it was in the hands of a magician named Blair Wainright.

Long after Colin left, brushing her cheek with his lips before
whispering that he'd see her tomorrow at the party, Gabriela had sat, curled up in the lonely love seat in her living room, more excited than ever at the thought of returning to her old life, to the solid marriage they'd had before, the one she'd taken for granted. She'd fallen asleep with her hand clasped around her locket, thinking of how it used to feel to have her husband's body lying beside her. This life had worn her down to a stub of what she used to be, like the lead of a dull pencil. But then her
abuela
had appeared in her dream and told her to stay. The question was, why?

•  •  •

Claire slid into her new Mercedes and smoothed her dress. Because she hadn't been scared to take financial risks this time, she had borrowed money from the bank and flipped three properties in the past two months for a substantial profit and had purchased the sleek silver sedan last week. She'd hoped that having an upgraded car would give her clients more confidence in her and ultimately increase her business. But she also realized that leather seats and a sunroof weren't going to be enough—she'd have to do the hard work too. She'd also called the hospital last week and paid all of her mother's medical bills, a financial burden that had weighed heavy on her father last time, causing him to fall deeper into depression. She had been granted a fresh start, and she wanted to create one for him too.

“Ready for a great night?” She glanced over at Emily as she backed carefully out of the driveway, double-checking her mirrors as she inhaled the glorious new-car smell.

“Sure.” She'd pulled down the visor and surveyed herself in the mirror, but said nothing more.

Claire relished the silence in the car, taking the time to
daydream about Mason, feeling her cheeks flush at the thought of seeing him tonight. Their relationship had escalated rapidly once Claire finally burned down the wall that she'd been holding up between them, and her stomach fluttered as she remembered how deeply he'd kissed her when she whispered that she loved him the night after Mona's memorial. After her mother died, Claire had decided to stop holding back with Mason, to stop worrying about where they were headed and just let herself fall. It felt amazing to become lost in him, to swim in his embrace, never wanting to let go, to talk for hours about everything and nothing at all. And for the first time, she knew with 100 percent certainty where she wanted them to end up. Together. In
this
life.

Claire's mind moved on to seeing Gabriela for the first time since they'd argued over not telling her the truth about Lucas' biological father. She'd tried to talk to Gabriela several times to explain why she'd kept Jessie's secret, but when she did reach Gabriela by phone, she was short and refused to discuss it, saying she understood, even though it was clear from her clipped tone she didn't. When she'd emailed that she would be at the party, Claire had exhaled in relief. She couldn't be
that
mad anymore if she was going.

But when Claire had replied and asked her if she'd made a decision about whether she was going back, she hadn't responded, leaving Claire with a knot in her stomach. Blair had said they'd all have to be in agreement about whether to stay or go, but the truth was, they'd never been further apart. And Claire suspected she might be the only one who wanted
this
version of their lives. Claire shuddered slightly as she pulled her car in front of Jessie's house. One of them was going to have to compromise her dreams for the others. Claire thought about all the
things she'd sacrificed for Emily, the secrets she'd kept for Jessie at the expense of her other friendship, the way she'd supported Gabriela even when she didn't agree with her choices. Wasn't it time they did something for her?

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