Читать книгу My Way Back to You - Pamela Hearon - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

IT HAD BEEN the afternoon from hell.

A wreck on the Kennedy stalled traffic for over half an hour, and Michigan Avenue had been like a parking lot, which was ironic because an actual parking lot with any available spots wasn’t to be found. Finally, Maggie opted to park at The Drake Hotel since they were staying there. Then the three of them practically jogged the few blocks to Loyola’s Water Tower campus, Russ pulling the luggage that would get him through the night, Maggie’s sandals slapping against her soles in a rhythmic fashion that mimicked the clip-clop of the horses pulling carriages along the Chicago downtown streets. The trio slid into their seats just as Coach Brimley welcomed everyone to the Windy City.

Maggie ran her fingers through her hair and found her previously fluffy do plastered to her scalp. Speed walking in the heat and humidity had wilted her humidity-control hairspray, and she was certain the makeup she’d so carefully applied that morning had vanished also. Her feet ached from the hard walk in the stylish-but-not-made-for-running leather thongs with kitten heels. To make bad matters worse, she hadn’t eaten since five that morning, and her stomach had been so tight then that she’d only managed a few bites. So throughout the meeting, her stomach gurgled often enough to cause the other parents to throw glances her way and Russ’s elbow to stay set in continual nudge mode. The lady next to her offered her some mints, which she accepted, but they just made her stomach work harder.

The only one who didn’t seem fazed by any of it was Jeff. After one particularly loud rumble that probably registered on the Richter scale, his eyes crinkled with mirth and the corners of his mouth twitched, but nothing more. She supposed Mr. California Cool was used to seismic activity.

“We’ve gone a little long here,” Coach Brimley said. “I didn’t mean to keep you into the dinner hour.” A titter of laughter moved through the group. “Any last questions?”

Maggie’s stomach chose then to emit a gargantuan rumble, which caused her face to heat to frying level.

The coach nodded her way. “Okay, then. The tour of the undergraduate campus will start at nine tomorrow. See you then.”

“Jeez, Mom.” Russ gave a relieved laugh as everyone stood and started to mill about. “Go get something to eat, will you? I don’t want my teammates thinking Kentucky’s a Third World country,” he said before turning to mingle himself.

Russ’s easy manner pulled people to him, just like his father’s had always done. Soon he was making introductions to her, and the names Maggie had heard so often of late materialized into real people.

And then, much too soon, Russ and his teammates were saying goodbye, heading to their new rooms at the residence hall on the Lake Shore Campus. Tomorrow they would officially move him in, but tonight was a chance for the members of the golf team to bond, solidifying the special friendships that would stay with them for the next four years—and for some a lifetime.

Or, at least, that was Maggie’s dream.

She looked at Jeff’s wistful expression as he watched their son walk away with his new friends, most of whom Russ had gotten to know via the internet. Was he sad their time as the major influences in Russ’s life was coming to an end? Or was he remembering that other kid who came to Kentucky from California on a golf scholarship and ended up having to forfeit it in order to work his way through the last two years of school while supporting a wife and baby?

Unlike the rare bad haircut she gave that could always be fixed one way or another, life didn’t give do-overs.

Even after Russ disappeared around the corner, Jeff continued looking. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, then he turned to her, dark eyebrows and sculpted shoulders rising and falling in a connected movement. “You ready?”

Her voice remained trapped deep in her chest, but she managed a nod.

He stayed quiet, too, until they got outside, where the suffocating early August afternoon heat had started giving way to the evening breeze. “Now, that’s more like it.” Jeff slipped his sunglasses on, looking every inch like a movie star.

Maggie, on the other hand, felt like a contestant at the end of Survivor. “Can we walk slow?” she pleaded. “I can’t take another run in these shoes.”

Jeff pointed to her feet as he slowed his step. “Women and their sexy sandals. It’s a wonder your feet last your entire lifetime with the torture you put them through.”

Had he just referred to her footwear as sexy? Some spring returned to her step. “I didn’t realize we were going to be participating in a cross-country event, or I would’ve opted for something flatter and fully attached.”

He snorted. “Being from Kentucky, you could probably get away with going barefoot.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Jeff gave her a look that said you wouldn’t dare, and she arched an eyebrow in response.

He changed the subject. “Are you going to be okay with Russ’s living up here?”

The people and traffic on Michigan Avenue had thinned some since two hours ago, but it was still difficult to imagine Russ enjoying this crowded place for very long. A weekend was one thing, but four years was entirely different.

“I don’t like it,” she admitted. “I would’ve preferred the University of Kentucky. But we both know the scholarship was the key factor. He thinks he’s going to love it, but he hasn’t experienced a winter up here yet.”

“I don’t think I could stand the cold.” Jeff pointed to a café they were passing. “Want to grab a snack? I know you’re hungry.”

His familiar grin brought a strange tightening to her chest that stalled her breath for a second. She shook her head and kept walking, waiting for the air that was slow but finally returned. “Everyone from here to Navy Pier knows I’m hungry. But I won’t be seen in a restaurant on the Magnificent Mile looking like this.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mags. You look great.”

Her stomach flip-flopped this time at the compliment...confirming the extent of her hunger. “Well, thanks, but I’ve promised myself a hot shower and a nice relaxing room service experience tonight.”

Entering the hotel lobby brought a sudden chill as the cold air met her damp clothing. She shivered in response as they hurried to grab the elevator. Oddly, in the crowded elevator that was quite warm, Jeff’s arm brushing against hers brought another shiver, deeper and more pleasant—though vastly disturbing. It was as if her body remembered things she wouldn’t allow her mind to think about.

They retrieved their luggage from the car, keeping the chatter to innocuous talk as they returned to the lobby, checked in and gave their luggage over to the bellman.

Jeff finished first but waited for her at the elevator. “I’m in seven fourteen,” he told her as they stepped in.

“Three eleven for me.”

He punched the floor buttons, and they stood alone in awkward silence for a moment as the elevator started its ascent.

It occurred to her they hadn’t made plans for tomorrow yet. “I guess we’ll need to leave about eight-fifteen tomorrow morning. Want to just meet me at the car?”

He nodded as the door slid open on her floor.

“Okay, then.” She flashed him a smile. “See you later.” She stepped out.

“Mags.”

Jeff followed her out of the elevator, allowing the door to close. “I thought...uh...why don’t we have dinner together?”

Her stomach squeezed at the thought. “Oh, wow, Jeff. I don’t know...”

He rubbed the back of his neck before shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s been a long time. We have a lot to catch up on.” His mouth rose at one corner. “Hell. It might actually be pleasant.”

“I...um.” Maggie searched for a reason other than the obvious—that they were exes and, as a rule, exes didn’t have pleasant dinners together.

“I have a reservation at eight at a fabulous restaurant just across the street. I should be able to add one easily.” He nodded toward her feet and grinned. “You won’t have to walk far.”

Her stomach chose that moment to let out a rumble, and Jeff tilted his head. “Was that a yes?”

She shook her head in resignation. “Oh, what the hell. Okay.”

The elevator door opened with a ding, and Jeff stepped back inside. “Meet you in the lobby at five till?”

She nodded and waited until the door closed before letting out a verbal groan.

Oddly, her stomach didn’t answer back. No, it had drawn much too tight to make a sound.

She didn’t have much of an appetite anymore, either.

* * *

“FINALLY!” ROSEMARY RUSSELL stopped walking long enough to retrieve her phone from the purse swinging on her arm.

“I told you she’d call.” Her husband, Eli, sounded completely cool and unbothered. But all through supper at the diner, she could tell he’d been just as worried as she was about their daughter and grandson’s trip today. She couldn’t imagine driving all the way up to Chicago with that horrible traffic. They’d expected the call hours ago.

She’d just about worried herself sick.

When she pulled the phone out, the caller ID confirmed it was, indeed, Maggie, thank heavens!

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Mom.” Maggie sounded out of breath. “Just wanted to let y’all know we got here in one piece.”

“How was the traffic?”

“Worse than you could ever imagine.”

That wasn’t what Rosemary wanted to hear. “Oh, dear. And you have to drive in it for two more days.”

“I did fine.” A door closed and Maggie gave a long sigh. “Jeff offered to take the wheel—I’m sure my driving wasn’t suiting him—but I was determined to prove to myself I could do it. I’ll be making this trip a lot over the next four years. I might as well get used to it.”

“How is Jeff?” Rosemary shot a glance Eli’s way and watched his jaw muscle tighten at the mention of their former son-in-law.

“He’s fine,” Maggie said, then added what sounded like an afterthought. “I guess. I mean, he looks great, but we haven’t had much time to talk. I was too nervous to be much of a conversationalist with the traffic and all. Oh, but, Mom, you should hear him and Russ together. It’s hard to tell their voices apart.”

“Did Russ do okay? With the other boys?” Rosemary had fretted about that, too—that her grandson from tiny Taylor’s Grove, Kentucky, would be thought of as a hick by his big-city teammates.

“You should’ve seen him. Had them eating out of his hand before the meeting was over.”

Just like his dad at that age, Rosemary thought wryly. She supposed she should be grateful to Jeff for providing their grandson with a set of extrovert genes.

“I met the coach,” Maggie went on. “Seems like a good guy, and—” There was a sharp knock. “The bellman’s here with my bag, Mom, so I better go. I’m meeting Jeff for dinner.”

Rosemary’s heart gave a loud thump. “Oh, dear, Maggie. Is that wise?”

Maggie’s snort sounded forced. “I’m a big girl. I can handle Jeff Wells just fine.”

Rosemary wasn’t so sure. She bit back all the warnings suddenly pressing on her tongue. “Just be careful, Maggie. Watch out for...the traffic.”

“I will. Gotta go. Love you.”

Before she could get out a goodbye, the phone went dead. She slipped it back into her purse. “She’s having dinner with Jeff.”

“The son of a bitch.”

Eli responded to the news exactly the way he always responded to Jeff’s name when Russ wasn’t around. She hoped his blood pressure didn’t shoot up. “If Maggie and Jeff can get along around Russ, that’s a good thing, right?”

Eli’s face flushed bright red. “The son of a bitch left my daughter and his son and moved as far away across the country as he could. There’s no forgetting that.”

She agreed but didn’t say so. Images of the ninety-five pounds Maggie withered to after the divorce still haunted Rosemary. There was no forgetting that, either.

They were in front of their house, but Rosemary pointed toward the end of the block. “It’s such a pretty night. Let’s keep walking. It’ll help us work off that chess pie we just ate.”

Eli grumbled an agreement and kept walking, charging up Baxter Hill like he had to put out a fire.

Maggie and Jeff were only going to be together for two days, Rosemary fretted silently. During that time, they had to move Russ into his dorm, go on tours, follow the team on a round of golf, have dinner with the other parents.

There wouldn’t be time for sparks to fly.

But they were having dinner tonight.

Rosemary tried to relax. Her daughter was now a savvy adult, finally over the man who had shattered her life. A successful businesswoman. A widow. But, despite the eighty-six-degree evening temperature, a shiver ran up Rosemary’s spine.

She fought off what she hoped wasn’t a premonition, quickening her step to keep up with Eli’s long stride.

* * *

JEFF HADN’T ANTICIPATED conversation would come so easily. But catching up on their parents’ health and Maggie’s genuine concern about his sister Chloe’s aggressive form of multiple sclerosis had taken them swiftly through cocktails. A lighter mood consisting of stories about Russ kept them laughing through appetizers and salad. So, by the time the entrées arrived, the food and alcohol had loosened their tongues and smoothed the edge of their tension, though it still lurked around their table, in the dark corner.

The food at Spiaggia was even better than he’d expected. He’d done his research online and made the reservations a couple of weeks ago, hoping he and Maggie might have some time alone to discuss a few things he wanted to get off his chest.

But this afternoon, her frazzled manner hadn’t been very encouraging. First, she’d turned him down at the café, and if he’d told her the truth—that he’d already made reservations for two tonight—he wasn’t sure she’d have agreed. But he’d played it smart and acted as if this was all spur-of-the-moment. An approach that apparently worked because here they were.

“You really do look amazing. Pictures I’ve seen haven’t done you justice.” He tilted the conversation toward the more personal side. “I know I said that earlier, but I mean it. And that dress is stunning.”

The sleeveless black sheath with the round neck was classy without being overdone. It played nicely against the dark roots of her hair and the blond highlights and showed just enough cleavage to be enticing. Her hair was tucked behind her ears and hefty diamond studs winked at him in the light of the candles on the table.

He wondered if they had been a present from Zeke, which sent a pang of guilt through him. He needed to address that issue. The sooner the better.

“Thanks.” She shrugged, her fork paused in midair. “I threw it in at the last minute. I’m always afraid of not packing something a little dressy. This one’s great because the knit doesn’t wrinkle.”

Not to mention how it fit those curves.

She took another bite of her gnocchi with wild boar ragù, and his eyes were drawn once again to the full, luscious lips that closed around the fork.

A jolt of stiffness in his groin had him shifting in his seat. He took a drink of wine to ease the discomfort. It didn’t help much, but, combined with the Crown Royal he’d had before dinner, he found the liquid courage he needed to make the apology he’d been wanting to deliver personally for a long time.

“Mags.” He set the glass down and something about his manner must have clued her in. She rested her fork on her plate. “I wanted to apologize for not being there—”

She adjusted her napkin in her lap. “It couldn’t be helped, Jeff. Russ understood. We all understood. A ruptured appendix? You could’ve died.”

“Well, yeah, missing his graduation totally sucked,” he agreed. The subject would always be a sore one for him. “But that’s not what I’m apologizing for. I want to tell you how sorry I am I didn’t come to Zeke’s funeral.”

“Oh...that.” Her voice went small, and she bypassed her wineglass to grab a sip of water.

“I talked myself out of it...thinking about the awkwardness of being there with all your family. But I should’ve been there for Russ.” He reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers. “I was a coward, and I’m sorry.”

He felt her hand tremble before she eased it from under his and rested it in her lap. “It’s okay. Really. Having Russ come out and spend that next week with you was smart. It got him away from...from my grief for a little while. It was the best thing for him.”

“Zeke must’ve been a great guy,” he continued. “Russ was sure crazy about him.”

Her chin quivered, and he could see the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “Yes, he was...crazy about him.” She drew a long breath, her breasts swelling, pushing tight against the neckline of her dress. “Russ seemed fond of Jennifer, too.” She pointedly dropped the subject of her deceased husband. “He thought she might be the one for you.”

Jennifer.

Just the thought of the woman caused Jeff’s teeth to clench.

“Hardly,” he answered.

Maggie raised an eyebrow in unspoken question, giving him the opportunity to go on or not. “Jennifer was the jealous type,” he answered, and took a sip of his wine to get rid of the bad taste talking about the woman left in his mouth.

Maggie gave him a cool look, her mouth drawing into a smirk. “I’ve found it’s usually the man who gives the woman a reason to be jealous.”

A flare of irritation burned in Jeff’s stomach. “Maybe.” He nodded and shot her a defiant glare. “Yeah, you’re absolutely right. It was my fault, but I don’t give a rat’s ass. She was jealous of Russ.”

Her face sobered. “Oh. Sorry.”

“She didn’t want our summers ‘taken up by him.’” He emphasized Jennifer’s phrasing by making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “Or our Christmases. She decided a two-week visit every other year would be more than sufficient. Can you imagine?”

“No, I can’t.” Maggie finally took another bite of her food, though with decidedly less enthusiasm than before.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get us off on a bad subject. We were having a good time before we started talking about all this. And it sounds like you do a much better job than I do at picking significant others.”

He’d meant to lighten the conversation with his self-criticism, but, to his horror, Maggie’s chin quivered again. And then a tear slid down her cheek...followed by another...and another.

“Damn, Mags. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized it would still be difficult for you to talk about Zeke. It’s only been...what? Three years? Let’s just drop it. How’s your gnocchi? Good?”

He was aware he was just talking to hear his head rattle at this point and not helping a damn thing. Maggie’s tears were coming harder and faster, though thankfully, silently. The tip of her nose brightened to hot pink.

“Can I pour you some more wine?” he offered, lamely, and then convinced himself to shut his damn mouth before he made things any worse.

Like things could be any worse.

Maggie’s body shook with the effort to bring her tears under control, and he sat and watched, helplessly shamed into silence.

When, at last, she could speak, she looked at him and shook her head. “Zeke wasn’t a great guy, Jeff. He wasn’t like everybody thought he was.” Pain flashed from the gorgeous green irises now rimmed in red. “Marrying him was the biggest mistake of my life.”