he the reason you pretended not to be home last night, Sare?”
“Okay, yes,” she relented. “Neither Derek or I felt like dealing with the Cutler issue at that hour.”
“He’s bound to have an interest, Sarah. In his mind, Kelsey robbed him of his only child, his main reason for living.”
Sarah’s face hardened suddenly. “You know as well as I do that Kelsey didn’t hurt anyone on purpose. Ever.”
“Still, the fact remains—”
“Cutler and those other fools drove the poor girl right out of town.”
“A college education from Bryn Mawr is hardly a sentence at San Quentin.”
“Oh, but how she struggled to earn it. She had to maintain the best grades to keep scholarships and worked some very crummy jobs.”
“I guess I never realized.”
“Nobody did. Kelsey was forced to take the fall for the accident, then it was out of sight, out of mind.”
“Are you suggesting the case was poorly handled?”
“Sheriff Norton hardly solved it.”
“He couldn’t with so little to go on.”
“I was highly suspicious of his methods even then.”
“What I remember most is struggling with the loss. In the long run, it’s all been about moving on, trying to forget.”
Hoping to regain his composure, Ethan stood, dipped into his blue uniform shirt pocket for his sunglasses and put them on his lean, taut face. But Sarah wasn’t finished with him.
“Maybe it’s time we took a fresh look at the whole mess, put a stop to the anger—encourage Kelsey to move home for good! That’s exactly what I intend to do. Go stuff that in one of Lewis’s big stinky hand-rolled cigars.”
Encourage Kelsey to move home? That was what was behind this? Ethan was completely floored. The idea of having her back in town, so full of fun and wit, was one he’d given up on long ago.
Just then a big motor coach wheezed to a stop at the curb, the way it did every day round this time. Sarah signaled the band of musicians on the corner and they broke into the Whittier High anthem.
Suddenly things all fell into place in the gray matter behind the tinted lenses. Sarah wasn’t out here by chance. Kelsey was due home the same way she’d left, on a Greyhound bus. This Greyhound bus.
Ethan inhaled sharply in anticipation as the bus door folded open.
Passengers disembarked, mostly a stream of UW students home for the summer.
He sensed Sarah standing beside him now, holding her breath, too.
The sliding door remained open but no one else appeared. False alarm maybe. It did seem impossible that after all these years Kelsey Graham was going to walk off this bus or any other bus to ever set foot back in Maple Junction.
Then a figure in a tight, colorfully striped sundress registered in his brain, along with Sarah’s wild scream. It was her! Kelsey. Here! Finally home.
The same old Kelsey, but different somehow.
As Sarah rushed forward to hug her, Ethan took time to readjust his decade-old picture of the cute and curvy girl with wild bleached brown hair and whimsical green eyes. The adult Kelsey was trimmer with a neat brown cap of hair highlighted red. No longer cute but, rather, beautiful—stunning! The only disappointment lay in her eyes. While still as rich and deep as tropical seas, the whimsy was gone, replaced by the tired wisdom of one who’d seen too much, who carried a number of regrets.
Ethan could especially relate on this last count, and all because of Kelsey herself. The biggest regret of his life was that he’d let her get away.
Few in town probably realized their history, or recalled when they’d kicked their tight friendship up a notch. It had been the summer before their sophomore year and their crowd had slowly been starting to date. In Ethan’s opinion Kelsey had possessed a sparkling personality, had been the prettiest girl in class and, unlike most, had always been up for a fevered game of basketball or baseball with the guys. Being such good friends and next-door neighbors, it had seemed natural to ease into some private little dates for swims, hikes and picnics to experiment with their affections, find out what a real kiss felt like.
It was all Ethan thought he’d ever want.
Until autumn, when he became a standout on the Whittier High football field.
He and Brad were the only sophomores on the varsity team and a few clever plays soon ensured their photos were splashed on the front page of the school paper. With celebrity came perks, like acceptance into upperclassmen cliques. Senior girls started calling—girls with cell phones and cars and big ideas! Brad handled it with poise, accustomed to feeling important due to Lewis’s status around town. But Ethan went wild over the sudden attention. He eagerly accepted all invitations to picnics and parties, reveling in his new-found fame.
There was never an invitation for Kelsey, but she didn’t complain when he shot off without her. In fact, she appeared to make light of the whole thing, pointing out that they weren’t even going steady. But deep in his heart he suspected she might care a little bit, as he sometimes caught her watching him forlornly from her stoop as he hopped into a car full of kids at sundown. She didn’t crack so many jokes anymore, either, or barge into the Taggert kitchen to help his mom bake a cake or join his folks in a game of poker.
Just the same, he was too preoccupied to worry about it.
By season’s end, the football-hero novelty started to wear off. The upperclassmen decided that underneath the jersey he was just a kid after all and wouldn’t fit in at their upcoming graduation parties.
Kelsey was indeed still his pal, albeit at a greater, more formal distance. By the start of the Christmas season, Ethan was desperately missing the romance they’d shared and decided to win back her affections.
Busy with his own social life for so long, he hadn’t even noticed he had competition from his best friend, Brad. In hindsight, he realized there had been a few outward signs, like Brad treating Kelsey to a Hostess cup-cake at lunch or offering her a lift home from school in one of the Cutler cars. But at the time, Ethan’s attention was pulled in too many directions to piece it all together. He didn’t get the total picture until the week before Christmas, at Brad’s annual holiday party. Gathered round the Cutlers’giant decorated tree in the great room, small fun gifts were exchanged.
Brad whisked out several boxes for Kelsey but most of them could have been filled with sawdust for all Ethan remembered. The only gift that mattered was the silver friendship band Brad gave her.
And nobody but Ethan appeared the least bit surprised.
As Kelsey gleefully slipped the ring on her finger, it was clear he’d already lost her.
Maybe if she’d made a bigger fuss at the start of his ego trip, he’d have snapped out of it. Or more likely, he should’ve just known better in the first place.
After that, the best Ethan could hope for was a friendship with the happy couple, digging up girls for double dates, making-out with one in the back seat of one of the Cutler fleet, while Brad and Kelsey cuddled in the front.
Then eventually a cruel twist of fate had taken even that much away from him.
Since she’d left town, Ethan had worked to rediscover their magic with someone else. But, it had never happened.
Now the old temptation was back. And Ethan was left holding—of all things—the baby, a sobbing Amy Joy, whom Sarah had awakened with her squeals. He’d seen no option but to pluck her from the buggy and attempt to calm her.
He cuddled the squirmy, howling infant for what seemed an eternity—perhaps sixty seconds—before the girlfriends broke free and Sarah scooted over to take