Ghost of a Promise (26 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jackson stared out the window of his New York apartment high above the bustling city. The buildings were aglow with late-nighters, reminding him he hadn’t slept. He preferred the quiet of Kerrick. And every corner donned Christmas cheer, reminding him of decorating the Trumble mansion with Ava. He set his hands on the window frame and leaned into them.

Everything reminded him of Ava.

He had sat at the conference table across from the producers and legal department two weeks ago, pen poised in his hand and contract renewal before him. But he couldn’
t do it. He couldn
’
t sign. He didn
’
t know what he was going to do. He had no plan. For once, no place to go.

In the time since he resigned, he
’
d memorized seven programs on Discovery Channel, caught a Giants game, and even lowered himself to watch a Jets game. He wasn
’
t hard up enough yet to cheer for the Bills. He
’
d cleaned his apartment, trashed his apartment, put the apartment on the market and was growing an interesting assortment of fungi on an orange in the fridge.

He couldn
’
t eat either. Nothing tasted like Ava
’
s cooking.

Funny, he thought leaving Trumble mansion and the town of Kerrick would snap him out of the obvious spell he was under while there. After all, guys like him didn
’
t contemplate staying in one place or with one woman unless he was possessed. Unless something unexplained had taken over his mind and body, and turned his thoughts unrecognizable.

They were unrecognizable all right. They were leaning toward love.

Hell, he didn
’
t know anything about love. But this sickening sensation deep in his gut he
’
d harbored and the fact that he couldn
’
t seem to function without her spoke volumes. Being away from her should have made this desperation go away. It only made it worse.

The reasons they couldn
’
t be together rattled around in his head. One by one he crushed the excuses. He didn
’
t know what to do with the knowledge, but at least he felt more productive.

He glanced at the blueprint paper spread out on the coffee table before him. He
’
d pulled it out from the back of his closet thinking he
’
d design something, anything, just to have something to do. Architecture had once been a passion. Now, he didn
’
t know what to do with the degree he
’
d never used. Idly, he picked up a pencil.

Frustrated, he set the pencil down once more and stared at what he
’
d doodled, expecting to find a prancing unicorn or a dancing jellybean. Instead, he
’
d drawn a house. Not just any house, a Victorian like the one he
’
d envisioned building for the family he
’
d make with Ava. The one tied to a future he didn
’
t think he could possibly have.

Bloody hell. He couldn
’
t go on like this.

The doorbell rang, making his head pound in irritation. He got up and opened it, only to force his jaw off the ground.

“
Mum?
”

“
Surprised to see me?
”
she asked, as if this was an ordinary thing, her crossing eighteen-hundred miles and popping over to his apartment.

“
Er, yes. What are you doing here?
”

“
I missed you too. Can I come in?
”

He blinked.
“
Sorry. Yes, I missed you and do come in.
”

She brushed by him wheeling a set of luggage behind her.
“
My plane just landed. I had the longest layover in Detroit. Do you have anything to drink?
”

Working off the shock, he thought over what he had in his fridge.
“
Is water okay?
”

“
Sure.
”

He rubbed the back of his neck and went to fetch her some water before carting her things into his guest room. Thank the Lord he had a maid service. He sat next to her on the couch.

“
Everything okay, Mum?
”

She fiddled with the ends of her hair, still cut in a wavy black bob as it had been since he was young. Fine lines wrinkled her forehead and around her eyes, but otherwise she looked the same. Short, willowy frame, small hands, and wide chin. She hardly ever wore makeup and was always dressed for casual comfort. He
’
d gotten a lot of her characteristics, aside from his height and eyes.

“
I sold the house.
”
She sounded happy with the idea.
“
We did a quick closing because the family wanted to be in the house for Christmas. Who was I to argue?
”

“
Where are all your things? The furniture and whatnot.
”

“
Oh.
”
She waved her hand.
“
I put some stuff in storage. The rest I left there.
”

Not knowing what to make of this, he just stared at her while she glanced around his apartment. She
’
d visited once before, but hated New York and never returned. Not much had changed since. It wasn
’
t as if he was ever here or cared what the place looked like. He
’
d bought the apartment his first year with
Phantoms
and hired a decorator. He supposed, compared to Ava’
s home, his was cold by comparison. Impersonal.

“
I put the apartment on the market last week.
”

“
Did you?
”
Her warm brown eyes leveled on him.
“
You quit the show?
”

He nodded.
“
Where do you plan on living if not in Colorado?
”

She turned her head toward the window as her eyes grew weary. A distant look passed before she got it under wraps.
“
Maybe I
’
ll check out Maine, as you suggested. That bed & breakfast might need an innkeeper.
”

A fist closed around his heart, but he skilled his expression blank. No sense in getting riled up for nothing.
“
Is that what you want to do? Be an innkeeper?
”

She stared at her hands.
“
I think being close to the ocean will calm my nerves. A small town on the coast sounds nice. I don
’
t mind housekeeping, and a new guest all the time will keep me from getting bored or anxious.
”

He ran his hand through his hair, wondering what she wasn
’
t saying.
“
Mum?
”
he prodded.

She swallowed and looked at him.
“
I want to be where you are. It
’
s time for me to move on. I
’
ve been stuck a long time and that
’
s not fair to you.
”

Something had changed, but he didn
’
t know what. Either way, Mum was pleased with her decision. He could see it in her eyes and in her small, tentative smile.
“
I just want you to be happy, Mum. You want to be where I am, but right now, here is where I am. I don
’
t know for how long.
”

“
We could try Maine together.
”

Ah ha. She was matchmaking. She
’
d meant the other stuff, he was sure of it, but the core of this change was Jackson himself. Damn tempting. In honesty, it was also a secret desire he
’
d craved most of his life. Mum never stayed in one place long. And neither did he. Maybe it was time to change that.

“
How long are you staying in New York?
”
Because it was one day until Christmas and usually she had a tropical destination mapped out and paid for by now.

“
As long as you
’
d like. Or until you sell the apartment.
”
She shrugged.
“
I thought
…”

He couldn
’
t decipher her expression, but he swore he saw contentment. A foreign concept if he ever heard one. She
’
d been a great mother, had given him everything growing up except holidays at home. Yet she never seemed at peace.
“
Thought what, Mum?
”

Her lips pressed into a thin line before they relaxed into a smile.
“
I thought we could spend Christmas together.
”

He sucked in air slowly to avoid passing out cold. She held his gaze longer than he could hold his breath. And that
’
s when he knew.

His gaze fell to the blueprints.
“
I know the perfect place to spend Christmas.
”

…

Ava’
s mom was going on her fourth glass of wine and her dad kept his back to the wall no matter what room they were in, but they were here. They were in Trumble mansion and trying to be brave for her sake.

“
It smells delicious, sugarpea.
”

“
Thanks, Mom. Could you bring the side dishes in the dining room? I
’
ll be right in with the ham.
”

Mom
’
s eyes widened.
“
By myself?
”
she squeaked.

She rolled her eyes. One step at a time.
“
Let
’
s all go in together.
”

They
’
d just settled in at the table and said Grace when the doorbell rang. Mom jumped fifteen feet off her seat and Dad almost fainted in his mashed potatoes. Ava bit back a laugh.

Setting her napkin down, she rose.
“
I
’
m not expecting anyone, so I
’
ll be right back. Probably just carolers. Calm down. Ghosts don
’
t ring the doorbell.
”

She opened the door. Her smile fell. She shivered at the brisk cold until her brain fully registered who stood on her doorstep. Everything inside her ignited. Her fingers fisted around the knob. Only shock kept her from falling on her face.

“
Happy Christmas, Ava.
”

“
Jackson?
”

“
May we come in?
”
he asked with a raised brow.

We? Her gaze darted to the woman next to him, only just realizing someone else was there. Without introductions she knew this was his mom by the same genetic characteristics.

Jackson was here. On her doorstep. On Christmas. With his mom, who stood shivering
…

“
Oh, wow. Yes, please come in.
”
She ushered them inside and shut the door. There wasn
’
t a crew behind him or a camera in sight.

“
Mum, this is Ava. Ava, my mum, Gayle.
”

The woman extended her hand.
“
Merry Christmas. I wanted to call first, but Jackson insisted we surprise you.
”

She shook her hand.
“
Color me surprised.
”

Gayle
’
s brows worried together.
“
Are we intruding?
”

“
No,
”
she shouted, then winced. She forced her tone to soften.
“
No, of course not. We were just about to sit down to dinner. Come on into the dining room. I
’
ll set up two more places. There
’
s plenty of food. I
’
d be happy to give you a tour afterward.
”

“
That would be lovely.
”
Gayle glanced around the foyer.
“
The house looks amazing. It
’
s bigger than I imagined.
”

Gayle. Jackson
’
s mom, Gayle. In her house. With Jackson.

Mom shot to her feet when they entered the dining room.
“
Jackson! Oh, how good of you to come, darling. I didn
’
t know you were in town again.
”
Her mom
’
s wide gaze darted behind him as her fingers clutched her collar.
“
Is there something wrong with
…
um, with the
…
you know
.”

Jackson laughed, making her remember how much she missed the sound. Damn it. She
’
d just stopped crying herself to sleep
…

“
No, Marjorie. No evil spirits. I
’
m not here on business.
”

Not. Here. On. Business.

He made introductions while she stood like an idiot staring at him. Her mom insisted they sit, using her thickest southern accent to make up for Ava
’
s lack of hospitality. Ava grabbed two more place settings and arranged them on the table.

“
If you don
’
t mind,
”
Jackson said,
“
I
’
d like to speak with Ava alone for a few minutes.”

He led her out of the room by her elbow. They walked to the other end of the house and into the doorway of the living room before he halted. He dropped a bag she hadn
’
t noticed him holding, removed his coat and tossed it on a nearby couch.

She focused on an easy task instead of diving right in on why he was here.
“
I thought your family didn
’
t celebrate holidays together.
”

“
We usually don
’
t,
”
he said with a half-grin.
“
But she showed up at my apartment having sold her house and wanting to spend Christmas with me.
”
His gaze bore into hers.
“
Seems she
’
s interested in becoming an innkeeper also.
”