Once and Again

“Why not?” She sounded genuinely baffled.

“Because I don’t think she’d be thrilled about the idea of any doctor, regardless of his reputation, poking around in her son’s brain.”

She blinked, obviously startled by his vehement response. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Yeah, well being sorry doesn’t always cut it.” He heard the bitterness and resentment he’d tried so hard to control, knew she couldn’t have missed it.

“Are we still talking about Caleb?”

“Right now, he’s the only thing that matters.”

She nodded. “Then maybe we could shelve the hostility for a while?”

Nick shrugged again, as if her sudden and unexpected appearance here didn’t bother him. As if her proximity didn’t stir within him the familiar battling forces of hatred and longing.

He hated that she’d walked away from him without a backward glance when he would have gone anywhere with her. He hated that she’d chosen her career over their relationship when he would have done anything for her. And he hated that, after eighteen years, he still wanted her.

Even when he looked at her now—the long dark hair he remembered cut stylishly short, the soft, luscious curves that still haunted his dreams elegantly covered by a silky top and slightly rumpled linen trousers—all he could think about was peeling away those layers of polish and pretense to reveal the uninhibited passion of the woman inside.

Except there was no hint of that passion in the gaze that met his own, only a silent plea he cursed himself for being unable to ignore.

“Consider it shelved,” he said.

Her smile was brief, tentative. Still it stirred something inside him. Something he didn’t want stirred.

He followed her reluctantly into Caleb’s room, wishing that she’d go back to New York.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that Nick was right on her heels, Jess might very well have hesitated again. She was nervous, uncertain of the reception she would receive after being away for so long. Uncertain of so many things when it came to the woman who had always been her best friend. But she walked briskly into the room, refusing to give Nick even a glimpse of the doubts that plagued her.

Kristin was perched on the edge of a narrow mattress, one leg tucked beneath her, both hands cradling one of her child’s much smaller ones.

Jess battled against the feeling of helplessness that threatened to overwhelm her as she searched for something to say.

It was Kristin who spoke first, her eyes widening when she saw her old friend standing there.

“Jessica?” It was a question more than a greeting.

Still, it propelled her forward, and she moved to embrace her friend. “I came as soon as I could.”

Kristin, still apparently baffled by her presence, sent a quick glance at her brother, as if Nick might have the answers she sought. “But why—how did you know?”

“I called this morning…” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I caught Jake at home…he said he was on his way to the hospital…he told me about the accident.”

“He never mentioned that he spoke to you,” she said. Then she turned to Nick again, her voice carrying an edge of panic as she asked, “Where is Jake? And Katie?”

Nick rubbed a hand over Kristin’s back. “Jake had to work,” he reminded her. “I dropped him off at the grocery store and convinced Katie to take in a movie with Allison.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

While Kristin and Nick were talking, Jessica turned her attention to Caleb. She was shocked at how pale and still and silent he was. Pale, except for the raw scrapes across his cheek and on his chin. Still, except for the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest controlled by the tube down his throat. Silent, except for the rhythmic hisses and beeps of the machines attached to his tiny body.

She reached over to brush her fingers gently over the curve of his paper-white cheek. His skin was soft, cool to the touch. “You sure have grown since the last time I saw you,” she murmured.

“It’s been six years,” Kristin said tonelessly.

It wasn’t a reprimand or recrimination, just a statement of fact. Jess only nodded. “I’m so sorry, Kristin.”

“So am I—but that doesn’t help my son at all.”

Jess flinched again, even though she knew there was nothing she could say or do to make Kristin feel any better. There was nothing anyone could do to ease the inexplicable pain and anger and frustration her friend was enduring.

Nick moved away from his sister to settle into a chair on the other side of Caleb’s bed, but Jess felt his eyes on her.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Kristin said after a moment of awkward silence. “I’m just not in the mood for a joyful reunion right now.”

“That’s not why I came.”

“Why did you come?”

“I thought you could use a friend,” she said softly.

Kristin stared at her for a long moment, her eyes filled with sadness, before finally saying, “Yeah, I probably could.”

The lack of enthusiasm didn’t surprise Jessica. After almost two decades, she shouldn’t have expected they would immediately fall into old habits and patterns. They’d kept in touch, but occasional letters and infrequent phone calls weren’t enough to sustain the bond they’d once shared. Especially when most of those letters and calls originated in Pinehurst. It was just one more thing Jessica regretted.

Kristin had tried so many times to get her to come back, but Jessica had always refused. She’d offered one excuse after another, but in the end, they were still just excuses.

She’d taken the easy way out: avoiding her friend and staying away from Pinehurst to ensure she wouldn’t run into Nick.

It hadn’t been easy, but it had been easier.

Easier to walk away than to risk all her hopes and dreams on a man who didn’t share her feelings. Easier to stay away than to let her best friend know that she’d fallen in love with her brother.

It was the first secret she’d ever kept from Kristin. The first, but not the last. Now there was so much they didn’t know about one another. And Jess couldn’t help but wonder if her sudden appearance only made a difficult situation even more difficult for her friend.

“I want to be here for you,” she said softly. “But I won’t stay if you don’t want me to.”

Kristin was silent for another long moment before saying, “I’m just surprised that you came.”

The simple honesty of the statement struck a sharper blow than any angry words or accusations possibly could.

Then silence descended again, awkward and all-encompassing.

It was all wrong—their whole interaction was like a badly choreographed play, as if they’d studied their lines but didn’t know how to act. They were saying the right things, and yet there was something missing. Something Jessica couldn’t define, but the absence of which made her feel incredibly sad.

“Where were you planning to stay?” Kristin finally asked.