was in turn followed by a gasping sob. “Oh, Jake, I know I’m making the right decision, but…”
In a heartbeat he stormed behind the counter and pulled her close. “Shh…” he said, stroking her hair while at the same time denying a strange sense of déjà vu. “Whatever’s going on with you, Candy, I’m sure everything’s going to be okay.”
As if only just now realizing that he held her in his arms, she stepped back, gazing up at him with a teary-eyed wonder that quickly turned to distrust. “Look at me,” she said, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. She took another step back and straightened her hair. “Here I am, on the threshold of the biggest adventure of my life, and acting as if it’s some kind of jail sentence.”
Jake scratched his head. “Mind explaining all that for those of us who showed up late to the party?”
“Oops,” she said with a brave smile. “I forgot that you don’t know. Today is my last Monday standing behind this counter.” She washed her fingers over the timeworn white marble. “A week from today I’m selling Candy Kisses and leaving Lonesome.”
“Temporarily, right?”
“No. That’s the most exciting part. First, I’m crossing the Andes—on a llama! It’s one of those adventure/eco trips. And then there’s my Amazon cruise, and from there, the Galapagos, and—”
“But wh-what about your grandfather?” Dear Lord, what was she thinking? Candy Kisses had been in her family for more than fifty years. Candy Kisses was her family. She couldn’t just sell it.
“You didn’t know that, either? Grandpa died last spring.”
Jake washed his face with his hands, released a deep-throated groan. “Jeez, I’m so sorry…But that makes your wanting to sell all the more baffling. Woman, have you lost your mind?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re selling the only thing in your life you’ve ever really loved in exchange for riding some hairy beast through the Andes? What is this? Some kind of harebrained attempt to find yourself?”
“Yes—I mean, no. And what if it is? What gives you the right to question anything I do? And you don’t have to make it sound as if my trip is some whacked-out, New Age spiritual thing. It’s just a vacation. A chance to see new things. Meet new people.” A chance to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.
Candy brushed past Jake, ignoring the icy-hot tingles where the cramped space forced their arms and hips to touch.
“Where are you going?”
Without looking back, she answered, “Home. I have a lot of packing to do.” From out of the cabinet at the end of the counter, she snatched her purse.
“You’re just going to leave the store? I thought you stayed open late every night of the week?”
“Only Thursday through Sunday.”
“Yeah, but what about today’s customers?”
“They’ll come back tomorrow.”
“What kind of business plan is that? You’ve got to seize the market. Be ready to close the deal on even the smallest sale.”
Heading for the front entrance, she said, “At the moment, Jake, the only thing I’m closing is the door. Last warning or you’ll be spending the night.”
In one of those grandiose moves only her ex would even think about pulling off, he braced his hands on the short counter and swung his legs over. Sure enough, he beat her to the door and now stood, arms crossed, blocking it.
“You haven’t grown an emotional inch, have you?”
“Oh, like you have? Hiding from whatever’s eating you by cutting it out of your life?”
“I’m not hiding. I’m going home to pack.”
“Packing for your trip to run off and hide.”
Tears welled at the backs of Candy’s eyes and she stubbornly forced them away. It had taken years to stop crying herself to sleep over this man. No way would she give him the satisfaction of crying over him now. Had he forgotten what he put her through? Had he forgotten what kind of pain she’d put aside just in trusting him enough to marry him?
He’d known what kind of rotten family she’d come from. He’d known, and yet he hadn’t cared. For if he had cared, he wouldn’t have pressured her for so much more than she would have ever been able to give.
“If we’re talking about running, Jake,” she said, taking a deep, calming breath, “I’m not the one who left the only home he’s ever known to whoop it up on Florida’s beaches.”
“We’re not talking about me, Candy, we’re talking about you, still avoiding your problems.”
“What problems?” she asked a little too shrilly. “Until you, the Official Playboy of the Entire Eastern Seaboard, showed up, life was looking good.”
“There you go, blaming your troubles on me.”
“Argh, I guess some things never change. Add the two of us mixing like oil and water to that list. I thought your showing up out of the blue for the reunion was some kind of sign. You know, that you had finally put the past behind you and we could at least act civilized toward each other. But I guess I was wrong.”
Fumbling through her purse for her keys, she was again fighting back tears, telling herself that it was saying farewell to her store that had her in such a dither. “You never understood me.” Understood what I gave up for you. “And who are you to lecture me about my faults, when there you are, day after day, throwing it all away.”
“Throwing what away?”
Your big chance, Jake. Your chance to be the one thing you could never be with me. The one thing I know you wanted above anything else—especially me. The chance to become a father. Keys in hand, Candy pressed her lips tight.
“Answer me.” Gripping her shoulders, he gave her a light squeeze. “What was that last comment supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I don’t know.”
“Bull!” Jake released her along with a wall of pent-up air. His back to her, he raked his fingers through his hair. This whole scene was out of control. He’d intended this to be a clean-cut mission. In, propose, out. One, two, three. So where had he gone wrong?
Funny how that was the same question he’d faced the last time they’d fought.
If he knew what was good for him, he’d leave right now and take his chances with hiring a woman to play the role of his wife. Maybe he could even answer one of those mysterious ads in the backs of magazines that promised to create false IDs and personal histories in thirty days or less.
Yeah right, and maybe donkeys fly south for the winter.
Face it, bud, the only shot you’ve got at keeping Bonnie is standing right in front of you, staring you down as though she’d just as soon spit on you than look at you.
“Jake,” she said in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Why are you really here? And don’t give me that line about being in town for the reunion, because Page Watson told me six weeks ago that you wrote ‘Return to Sender’ on the outside of your invitation.”
Six weeks ago, Cal and Jenny had still been alive.
And Candy was right. Ordinarily, Jake wouldn’t have shown up at their class reunion for all the beer in St. Louis. Sure, he would’ve loved hanging out with the guys, but given the very good chance that he’d also run into Candy…thank you very much, but he’d have more fun in bankruptcy court.
That being the case, again, why not walk away? Hop the next flight for Palm Breeze and never look back?
Bonnie, that’s why.
Flashes