Always on My Mind (21 page)

“Yes,” Elsie said. “She’d love to.”

The corners of Ronald’s mouth twitched. “Dee?”

Dee’s smile had faded. “I…can’t,” she said and unhooked her seat belt. “Excuse me.” She pushed open the door and headed to the stands, where others were gathered, waiting for their vehicles to get washed.

Elsie got out and patted Ronald’s hand. “You did good. Real good,” she said gently. “She’s just gun-shy.”

Leah helped her grandma to the stands to wait with Dee.

“I can’t believe you passed that man up,” Elsie said to Jack’s mom.

Dee shook her head and made herself busy cleaning out her purse.

Elsie sighed and rose to her full four feet, eight inches. “It’s a sad day when
I’m
the risk taker.”

“Grandma,” Leah said. “Where are you going?”

“To the seniors.” She jabbed her cane in the direction of the other end of the stands, where a group of seniors sat together, joking and laughing. “They might be old, but at least they know how to kick it.”

A
t a lull in the car washing, Jack pulled Ronald aside. “I wanted to talk to you about the forensics.”

“Never mind that,” Ronald said. “I’ve got something more important.”

“There’s something more important than the only serial arsonist in Lucky Harbor’s history?” Jack asked.

Ronald blew out a sigh. “Said a guy who still has his entire love life ahead of him.”

Jack paused. “Huh?”

“I want to retire, goddammit!” Ronald burst out. “I want to retire so I can spend some time with someone I care about while sex is still more fun than bingo, or before I need a little blue pill to—”

“Jesus! I get it, okay?” Jack resisted the urge to cover his ears like a little kid and go running.

“I want that with your mom, Jack. I’m in love with her.”

Jack shoved his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what to say to you.”

“How about that you’ll talk to her and tell her that she’s been a widow longer than she was a wife. That it’s time to look around and see there are other fish in the sea. That she should keep the smile you put on her face with the whole you and Leah thing. That she could have it for herself if she wanted, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be pretend.”

Jack looked into Ronald’s eyes. He was solemn and quite serious, and…not at all nervous. Ronald was a steady, stand-up sort of guy who didn’t do things frivolously or without merit. If he said something, it was so.

And he wasn’t asking for Jack’s opinion on his feelings, or for Jack to necessarily approve. “You know she’s not…well.”

“You’re enabling her.”

“She’s been through a lot,” Jack said tightly.

“And she’s survived. She’s going to keep surviving.” He gave Jack one last long look and moved off.

More cars pulled into the lot. Jack washed two cars on autopilot, then looked up when he realized Danica was standing there talking to him. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “What?”

She was in a skimpy little white sundress that showed off her curves to perfection, and she sent him a smile that said she knew it. “I said I heard that you and Leah are over, and that you should let me help you commiserate.”

“I can’t.”

“Aw.” She hugged him before he could stop her. “You’re so brave,” she said. “So hurt. You call me when you’re ready. I can help, Jack. I promise.”

Jack caught sight of his mom and managed to disentangle himself. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve got to go,” and he strode over to Dee. “Hey,” he said.

“Son.”

Not
a happy tone. But then again, other than when Leah had told her he was in a relationship, he hadn’t heard a happy tone from her in so long he’d nearly forgotten what it sounded like. “You okay?” he asked. “Why are you here?”

“To support my son,” she said and lowered her voice. “The one who felt he had to lie to me.”

Having no idea how she’d found out, he pulled her aside for privacy. “Mom—”

“Oh no. Don’t you ‘mom’ me in that tone. Jack—” She cupped his face. “I didn’t want you to make my mistakes. I didn’t want you to wallow. I’m so deeply ashamed that you saw me give up like I did. And then to make you feel like you had to fake a relationship to make me happy… No.” She inhaled deeply. “This isn’t about me. It shouldn’t be about me. It’s your turn, Jack. Your turn to be happy.”

“I
am
happy.” Or he had been, until about 0100 hours last night.

She stared up into his eyes. “You aren’t. Lie number two. Good Lord, Jack. What else have you lied about?”

“Remember that time Jack told you that someone hit-and-ran your car? Not true. He ran over Mr. Lyons’s mailbox.”

They both turned to face Ben, who raised his hands in surrender. “Not funny yet? Sorry, my bad.” He started to back up, but Dee reached out and snagged him by the front of the shirt. “Did you know?”

“Uh…” He slid a glance at Jack. “Hard to tell. Did I know what exactly?”

“That Jack and Leah were faking their relationship just to make me happy.”

“Uh…,” Ben repeated, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. He’d faced hell itself with a shocking fearlessness, but his beloved Aunt Dee in a mood simply terrified him.

“Benjamin Matthew Kincaid,” she said sternly. “Look at me.”

Ben met her gaze unflinchingly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me!” Dee threw her arms around him. “I love you so much, you big, cranky, adorable sweetheart. So much more than your idiot cousin.”

Ben had winced at the “adorable sweetheart” but his arms closed around Dee, as over her head his amused gaze met Jack’s. “Of course you do,” he murmured to Dee.

Jack flipped Ben off.

Ben returned the gesture without letting go of Dee.

Dee pushed free and looked up at Ben. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ben said.

“You have no idea what I’m thanking you for.”

“None,” Ben agreed.

Dee laughed and smacked him lightly on the chest. “For letting Jack pretend to be with Leah. Thank you.”

“Let?” Ben asked. “Dee, no offense, but no one lets Jack do shit. He does whatever he wants, when he wants.”

Dee beamed. “Exactly.”

When both Jack and Ben just stared at her, she shook her head. “Honestly, do I have to spell everything out? You don’t see? Neither Jack nor Leah pretended anything.”

Jack shook his head, seeing where she was going with this. “Mom, listen—”

“No, Jack.
You
listen. You’ve been so good to me. And I’ve had a good life. All I wanted for you is the love of a great woman, someone who would treat you right and take care of you. And then I could die happy.”

Jesus. “Mom—”

“And when I’m gone,” she said. “I—”

“Mom. Stop.”

“I’m not done, Jack.”

“Hell no, you’re not done. You’re not dying.”

“But—”

“You’re
not
. I’m not going to let you,” he said very seriously.

At his side, Ben nodded just as solemnly. “No one’s dying,” he agreed. “Especially you. You’re the glue, Dee. We need the glue.”

“Oh.” She breathed and sniffed noisily, searching her pockets, presumably for a tissue. “Oh, you boys are just the sweetest things.”

Again Ben winced at the “sweet” moniker but offered her the hem of his T-shirt for her to swipe at her eyes.

“And as for Dad,” Jack said. “You’ve waved the widow’s weeds for long enough. I know you loved him; we all know it. And I know you miss him, but that doesn’t mean you’re half human. Live, dammit. It’s worth it.”

She stared at him, and then, horrifying him, her eyes filled with tears again.

“Ah, Mom. No.” He pulled her in and hugged her, pressing his jaw to the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare be sorry.” She sniffed and pressed her face to his chest. “I shouldn’t have let everything overcome me as much as I have.” She lifted her head. “I taught you boys better than that.”

“You did,” Ben said quietly. “You taught us to go for what we wanted, and we each did.”

Jack didn’t say anything because in Ben’s case it was absolutely true. Ben had wanted to design and build stuff, and he had. He’d wanted to fall in love and get married, and he’d done that too, until it’d been taken from him.

But Jack had let his future be guided by his past. Exactly what he’d accused Leah of, which made him a hypocrite.

He wasn’t much for regrets, but that one was starting to weigh on him now.

“Jack,” his mom said, cupping his face. “If I have to get over myself and go for what will make me happy, promise me you’ll do the same.” She pulled Ben in by the hand as well. “Both of you.”

“Mom—”

“Promise me,” she said fiercely.

Jack nodded. Ben did the same.

And then Dee smiled her queen bee smile, squeezed them both one last time, and pulled back. “Now, if you’ll pardon me, I have to RSVP to a steak barbeque.”

They watched her walk toward Ronald with great purpose.

“Imagine if she harnessed her powers for good,” Ben said.

Jack started to respond, but then Dee went toe to toe with Ronald. Putting her hands on his, she pulled him to her and kissed him like she meant it. “Shit.”

“Yep,” Ben said. “She’s tonguing your boss.”

Jack grimaced and then rubbed a hand over his face. When that didn’t clear his head, he gave Ben a shove. That helped only marginally.

“Your maybe, sort of, pretend ex-fiancé is next in line, man.” Ben shoved him back. “Time to get to work.”

Jack turned and looked. Sure enough, Leah was in his mom’s car. She’d come around to the hoses and buckets of soapy water and had just hefted one of the hoses in her hand.

Leah stood there in white short shorts and a dark-blue LHFD T-shirt that he was pretty sure was pilfered from
his
closet. It was tied at her belly button, and she looked like a cross between his greatest fantasy and his biggest heartache.

She met his gaze, her own hooded.

Jack handed Ben his sponge and headed toward her. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said when he got close.

Her eyes flashed. “Look, you might be right about everything you said last night. I am a complete screwup. I’m a lot of things. But I am still a contributing member of society here in Lucky Harbor, so—”

“I meant you aren’t supposed to be
here
, behind the line, with all the gear.” He gestured to the madness around him. “It’s some sort of insurance liability.”

“Oh.” In the bright sunlight she blushed. “Right.”

He caught her arm just as she turned away, not sure what he planned on saying, only knowing that seeing her was like a punch to the gut. But the next thing he knew, he was doused with water right in the face.

“Whoops,” Tim said from the next car over, where he was hosing off the soap. “Sorry, kids!”

He’d also managed to hose down Danica, who was standing next to her car behind them. That snug, thin white sundress was now turning the family car wash into an X-rated wet T-shirt contest. She turned on Tim and nailed him in the face with a soapy sponge.

And just like that, the water fight was on. No one escaped unscathed. And in fact several people ganged up on Jack, including Tim and Ian, and he was pretty sure that it was Danica who’d jumped on his back and smashed a wet sponge in his face. The craziness went on for a while. People were soaking wet and having a good time. Lucky Harbor residents were nothing if not opportunistic and resilient.

When Jack finally pried free and swiped his eyes clear, Leah was gone.

O
n the night of the
Sweet Wars
finals, it was Elsie’s turn to make dinner. “So,” she said over meatloaf and potatoes. “Back to school, huh?” She smiled. “I’m so happy for you.”

“It’s only for one quarter.”

“And then you’ll go run a pastry shop, probably somewhere really exciting like Paris or New York, right?”

“I don’t know,” Leah said. She hadn’t gotten that far in her head yet.

Elsie laughed a little. “Why am I asking? Three months out is about as far as you ever plan.”

Leah went still, then reached for her grandma’s hands. They were dry and callused. A baker’s hands.

They matched Leah’s.

“Grandma, you knew this was temporary.”

Elsie nodded. “Of course, honey. I knew. I understand. If I were thirty years younger and half as talented as you, I’d be off making the most of it too. You have a lot out in front of you. I hope you know that.”

“I know it,” Leah said. “And I know it because of you.”

“Oh. Well.” Elsie’s eyes filled, but she shook her head. “You’d have figured it out sooner or later.”

“No, Grandma, it was all you. You and Jack.” Her own eyes filled. “Always loving me unconditionally. Beating me over the head with it all until it sank in.”

The doorbell rang.

It was Max Fitzgerald. Leah stared at him in surprise. “Mr. Fitzgerald. What are you doing here?”

“I need to speak to your granny.”

“She’s busy.”

“I’m right here,” Elsie said, coming up next to Leah. “What do you want, Max?”

“You convinced Lyons to pull out of escrow? You can’t do that.”

“Can and did,” Elsie said and went to shut the door on him, but Max stuck his foot in it.

“Why?” he asked. “Why the hell would you get him to back out of a deal like that?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because believe it or not,” Max said, “I care about you. It was a great offer. He would’ve gotten good, fair-market value on that piece-of-shit building. So what the hell?”

Leah stared in shock at Elsie. “You talked Mr. Lyons into keeping his building?”

“Yes.” Elsie tilted her nose up to nose-bleed heights. “Yes, I did.”

“Why, Grandma?”

“Because…” Elsie turned to Leah and softened her gaze. “Because you’ve reminded me how much I love that damn shop. I made that place, from the bottom up. I know it’s nothing fancy, and I’ll probably have to hire some more help after you leave, but…” She shrugged and broke eye contact with Leah. “I’m not ready to let go.”

“You didn’t have to let go!” Max said. “No one was going to kick you out.”

“But the new guy will be making changes. Updating, renovating. At the end of the year, the lease will go up. Everything will change.”

Max couldn’t deny this. He sighed. “Look, one thing I’ve learned…it’s the way of things, Elsie. Change happens.”

Elsie looked at Leah as she answered. “But I know,” she said softly. “Except this at least, this one thing, didn’t have to.”

“You don’t think Lyons will raise the lease?” Max asked. “Because he will.”

“Not mine,” Elsie said confidently, causing Max to toss up his hands and stomp off.

Leah parked at the bakery. She’d made her excuses to Elsie, and to Ali and Aubrey as well.

She didn’t turn on any lights as she let herself into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter with a tub of leftover cookie dough and a wooden spoon.

And there, with her iPad and her impending sugar rush, she watched the
Sweet Wars
finals.

Alone.

The challenge had been deceptively simple. Make a five-tiered wedding cake large enough to serve two hundred people.

Except a cake that size was never simple, as Rafe so cheerfully pointed out to the camera. Unlike a smaller cake, frosting wasn’t just spread onto traditional wedding cakes. Rather fondant covered each cake tier to give a smooth look. Fondant was made from a sugar syrup that took up to forty minutes of constant stirring to get to the correct consistency. And then after applying it to each painstaking layer, there were still many hours of decoration needed.

Leah could remember the buzz of the adrenaline flowing her through her veins as she’d worked fast and steady, tuning out the sounds and scents and overwhelming air of panic around her.

Now in the quiet kitchen she watched, as with twenty-five seconds left on the clock, the enormity of the situation caught up with her. She could see it so clearly on her own face. The self-doubt reaching up and grabbing her by the throat as she carried her beautiful, perfect, five-tiered wedding cake to the judging table and…

Dropped it.

She watched as it hit the floor with a splat, watched herself go pale and bring shaky hands to her mouth. Watched as everyone else on the cast turned to take in the disaster, shocked horror on their faces.

Each of them had been playing for second place, and everyone had known it.

Except Leah had dropped the cake.

The show cut to an ad break, and there on the counter, Leah closed her eyes.
What had she been thinking?

But she knew what she’d been thinking. She’d stood there on the set, the win literally within her reach, and it’d hit her like a ton of bricks.

It was hers. The win was hers. She was about to be given everything she needed to open her own pastry shop—with the world watching.

You’re never going to amount to a damn thing, Leah.

The anxiety had ridden up and grabbed her by the throat.

And suddenly the very best thing that could happen had become the worst.

The commercial break ended. The show came back on, and Leah forced herself to watch. Forced herself to take in her own misery at being sent home when she knew damn well she’d had first place if she’d only been brave enough to take it.

But she wasn’t brave.

She let out a careful breath and turned off her iPad. And since her phone was buzzing like it was having a seizure, she turned that off as well.

That’s when the bakery phone started going off.

“Oh my goodness, Leah,” came Dee’s disembodied voice from the answering machine. “Honey, I’m so sorry you tripped and dropped the cake.”

Click.

The phone immediately rang again.

“Leah?” It was Ali. “You tripped? Do you need me? I mean, I realize you’ve known you tripped for six months, but…damn. Call me.”

And so on.

Leah closed her eyes and tuned it out. It wasn’t hard to do when the messages were all the same. Lucille said it looked like she’d been tripped by another cast member. Aubrey offered to drive the getaway car.

Leah dug into the bowl of cookie dough with renewed energy, inhaling the rest of it—which was delicious. Gee, maybe she should do this for a living…

Why hadn’t she left already?

She hadn’t left because of Elsie, she reminded herself. In spite of her grandma’s assurances, Leah wasn’t at all sure that she could go back to handling the bakery by herself.

And then there was the fact that Leah was all Elsie had.

No, wait. That was backward. Elsie was all
Leah
had. Leah had nearly forgotten what it felt like to be with family, to be unconditionally loved…

And that wasn’t all
, a little voice inside her head reminded her. There was more holding her to Lucky Harbor, and she knew it.

There was Jack. He was family too, in a very different way. Jack was…

Everything.

As if she’d conjured him up, he appeared at the back door looking superficially neutral. Letting himself in, his gaze settled on hers as he shut and locked the door behind him.

He was in a T-shirt that said
JUST DO IT
and a pair of old Levi’s that lovingly contoured his body, intimately cupping parts of him that she missed. He smiled at the sight of her on the counter, bowl under one arm, wooden spoon in her other hand. But the smile didn’t meet his serious eyes.

He’d seen the show.

“I’m not going to talk about it,” she warned him. “So if that’s why you’re here, go away.”

He didn’t respond to this.

“I mean it, Jack. You said no big good-bye. You said it. It was your rule. I’m leaving tomorrow. Let’s just let it go.”

He came closer, until his thighs bumped hers. He looked into the bowl and then ran a finger along the bowl’s edge and sucked it into his mouth.

“Double fudge,” he said.

“You’re good.”

His eyes met hers, and the things she saw in them dried up her mouth. Because he was also bad. Perfectly, wonderfully
bad
. Not wanting to acknowledge the tightening in her gut—God, she hated knowing she’d let him down along with everyone else she knew—she licked the wooden spoon and said nothing.

He leaned against the counter and waited her out. He always could.

“Still not going to talk about it,” she finally said.

He just looked at her.

Dammit
. “Listen, just being on that show was a big deal for me, okay? Who could have expected me to get as far as I did, much less win it?”

More nothing from the big, bad, attitude-ridden firefighter, and this pissed her off. “Your expectations for me have always been too high,” she snapped.

“You dropped the cake. You fucking
dropped
the cake.”

“I know,” she said. “I was there.”

“Leah, you could make a wedding cake when you were thirteen years old. I know it. I ate it. You’d carry it across my mom’s kitchen to the table with pride and grace. You never dropped it.”

“Well I did this time.”

He shook his head. “Why?”

In the heavy silence, her breath caught audibly. “I don’t want to discuss it. I screwed it up, that’s all. I’m not going to be a star pastry chef and that’s that. Get over it.”

He closed his eyes and dropped his head to his chest for a beat before looking at her again, his eyes filled with exasperation and frustration. “I don’t give a shit about what you do for a living, Leah. It’s not about that. It’s about you.”

The storm that had been brewing inside her broke open. “I’m not perfect, all right? We both know it. So you, and everyone else who thinks I should be, need to back off. I’m only me.”

“Well finally,” he said, his voice not quite as low and controlled as usual. “Something real out of your mouth.”

She pointed her chocolate-covered spoon at the door. “Get out.”

“Oh hell no. We’re just getting somewhere.”

She clamped her mouth shut. She’d chosen to stay here in Lucky Harbor until the bitter end, so she had no one to blame for this confrontation but herself. She was going to own it. “I lost, okay? I’m not going to make excuses for not being the best.”

“Are you going to make excuses for not letting yourself be happy? For thinking you don’t deserve it?”

“I’m not going to open a pastry shop in New York City. Big deal. How many people get to do that anyway? I’ve got other stuff going on. I’m happy.”

“If only you believed that,” he said very seriously. Way too seriously.

“Don’t start with me, Jack. I am happy.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

He looked around, and she followed his gaze, taking in everything he saw. Elsie’s favorite bowls stacked up along the counter. Elsie’s utensils and cookery. Elsie’s everything.

“There’s nothing of you here,” he said.

“It’s Grandma’s bakery. Not mine.”

“I’ve been at the house. There’s nothing of you there either.”

“Again,” she said. “Not my place.”

“Yeah? Well then, where
is
your place, Leah?”

“You know I don’t have one right now. I’ve been a little busy. And now I’m leaving anyway, so—”

“Bullshit.” He caged her in with a hand on either side of her hips. “I’m calling bullshit, Leah.”

“No, it’s true. I leave tomorrow night.”

“Not that,” he said. “Yeah, you’re leaving. No one knows it better than me. I’m talking about you not letting anyone too close or they’ll see your flaws.”

Her breath hitched. Dammit. He knew her far too well.

He ducked a little to look into her eyes. “But I’ve always seen you, all of you, flaws and all. I know you, so I can say this. You’re not perfect. But you’re perfect for me. And it pisses me off that you won’t let that happen. Let us happen. I’m tired of watching you implode, Leah. Tired and done.”

“Then get the hell out,” she said. “I’ve asked you twice now.”

He did just that. He got the hell out.

Leah covered her face and tried to tell herself he was an ass. A pushy, unforgiving ass. But she knew exactly who was at fault here.

“Knock, knock.”

Leah jerked and opened her eyes.

Aubrey stood in the doorway holding a flask and a bag of potato chips. “Thought one of these might be of some help about now.”

“Alcohol and chips?”

“It’s my emergency ‘Just Fucked Up Again’ kit.”

Leah sighed. “You heard.”

“Everything,” Aubrey agreed. “Thin walls.” She came in and helped herself to two glasses. She poured a splash of something amber into each and then handed one to Leah, keeping the other for herself. “Cheers.”

“Cheers?” Leah choked out.

“You’re right,” Aubrey said. “How about…to fucking up? I mean, let’s face it, we’re both pretty good at that.”

“What have you ever fucked up?”

Aubrey laughed a little coldly, and yet somehow the sound held volumes of loneliness. “You grew up here. You know my rep.”

“You have a rep for being unflappable and gorgeous.”

Aubrey took another shot. “And…”

“Okay,” Leah said. “And maybe a little untouchable.”

“Bitchy,” Aubrey corrected. “Mean. Cold.”

“I don’t think you’re mean or cold,” Leah said.

Aubrey laughed again, this one much more real. “Just bitchy? Okay, I can live with that.”

There was a soft knock, and Ali appeared at the doorway. She saw the glasses and immediately her mouth went into a pout. “Hey. I want to join.”

“Can’t,” Aubrey said. “
You
aren’t a fuckup.”

Ali paused a beat, taking this in, clearly thinking hard. “You’re wrong. I’ve been a fuckup before.”