Once and Again

“I’ll probably get a room at the hotel,” she said.

There was another hesitation, and another long moment passed, before Kristin said, “There’s a pullout sofa in our den.”

Then she shrugged, and Jessica knew she was waiting for her to decline the offer. As she’d declined so many offers in the past.

“I don’t know how comfortable it is,” she continued. “But it’s there. Or maybe Nick—”

“The sofa sounds perfect,” Jessica interrupted quickly.

Kristin seemed surprised by her quick acceptance, but then she managed a hesitant smile. “I’ll give you my key.”

Chapter Two

As Jess negotiated the familiar roads on her way to Kristin and Brian’s house, she was amazed by how little had changed through the years. When she’d traveled this same route a couple hours earlier, she’d been too intent on getting to the hospital to register any of the surroundings. Now that she’d seen Kristin and knew Caleb’s condition was—although still critical—at least stable, she was able to get a better impression of the town she’d grown up in.

Anderson’s Hardware was still on the corner of Main and Wilson Streets, next to Time & Again—a secondhand store—and The Book Market.

The cybercafé was new.

That café had been a pizza parlor when Jessica was in high school, and she’d worked there after school and on weekends. She’d been working the day Nick Armstrong had come home after his first year away at college, and when he’d walked into the restaurant her sixteen-year-old heart had tripped and fallen at his feet.

Nick had been her first crush. Her first lover. Her first heartbreak.

She pushed away those thoughts as she braked for a red light, coming to a stop beside Brody’s Drugstore. The front window was decorated for Halloween even though it was only the middle of September. The seasons seemed to slip past so quickly now—as her life seemed to be doing. She sighed as she continued her perusal. Across the street was Emma’s Flower Shop, with bouquets of fresh-cut flowers out front to tempt passersby; beside the florist was Beckett’s Sporting Goods store, advertising a storewide clearance on Rollerblades, skateboards and bicycles.

She felt the sting of tears again. Would Kristin ever be able to forgive her?

Would she ever forgive herself?

She pulled into the driveway and wondered if she’d made a mistake in coming back.

When she’d heard about Caleb’s accident, she’d paused only long enough to throw a few things in a suitcase. Now, as she carried that suitcase to the house, she started to doubt the wisdom of her impulsive actions. Not just because of the unplanned meeting with Nick and the unwelcome onslaught of memories, but because of the unexpected distance between her and Kristin that she didn’t know how to bridge.

She should have expected that there would be some awkwardness between them. It was naive to hope that the bonds between them would have endured despite the passing of time. But it was what she’d hoped, and she’d been foolishly disappointed to find otherwise.

Jess had been seven—the same age Caleb was now—when she’d moved to Pinehurst. She’d met Kristin on her first day in Mrs. Hartwick’s second-grade class at Parkdale Elementary School. From that day on, they’d been the best of friends.

Kristin and Jessica. Jessica and Kristin.

Her mom used to tease that where one went, the other would follow. But that wasn’t really an accurate description of their relationship. They were partners, allies, equals.

They used to talk for hours on the phone every night, discussing homework assignments, comparing notes on boys and making plans for the future. Top of their list was to get out of Pinehurst and see the world together.

Then Kristin had fallen in love, and instead of pursuing her dream of going off to college, she’d chosen to stay in Pinehurst to marry Brian Clarke. And Jess, more determined than ever to follow her own path, had taken her scholarship to Columbia University and gone to New York City alone.

Eighteen years later, Kristin was still happily married to her high school sweetheart, living in the home where she’d grown up and the mother of three beautiful children. Jessica had a successful career as a corporate attorney, an apartment with a great view and absolutely nothing else.

They were adults now, with adult lives and responsibilities, and not just geography but a lot of history separating them.

Still, she was optimistic that they could bridge that distance one step at a time. The first step, and the most difficult for Jess, had been coming home. Now that she was here, she was determined to do what she could to help her oldest friend.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

As a child, she’d spent almost as much time in this house as in her own. And although Kristin and Brian had made some minor changes after Kristin’s mom had passed away—walls painted, appliances updated, furniture replaced—those changes didn’t detract at all from the sense of homecoming.

She shook her head, surprised by her feelings of nostalgia. When she’d left Pinehurst, she’d willingly left all of this behind. Now that she was back, she couldn’t remember why she’d been so anxious to go.

She moved through the archway and into the dining room, her heart breaking a little to see the remnants of Caleb’s birthday party. There were still blue and orange streamers hanging from the ceiling and bouquets of now deflated helium balloons in the corners. The long table was covered with a paper cloth that bore traces of macaroni salad and potato chip crumbs. A half-empty punch bowl, bottles of ketchup and mustard and an open jar of relish were further remnants of the feast. Napkins had been scrunched up and discarded along with plastic cutlery.

She picked up a cone-shaped party hat, traced her fingers over the glittering letters that spelled out “Happy Birthday” across the front. The fist that had gripped her heart since she’d learned of the accident squeezed tighter.

She closed her eyes but couldn’t banish the image of Caleb in that hospital bed with a ventilator to breathe for him, tubes to feed him, and machines monitoring every function of his body.

She’d taken one look at him and had been almost overwhelmed by fear and guilt. She wanted to support Kristin, to be the friend she hadn’t been for so long, but maybe too much time had passed. Maybe it really was too late.

What good could she do anyway? She wasn’t a doctor or a psychologist or even a social worker. She was a lawyer—a corporate attorney who’d buried herself in her job for ten years because it was the one thing she knew she was good at. And a woman who, as much as she hated to admit it, had abandoned her best friend a long time ago.

Standing here now, in Kristin’s dining room, she knew she’d made a mistake in coming back. She couldn’t help her friend, and there was almost nothing she hated more than feeling helpless.

She turned to leave, and then she saw it.

On the sideboard.

An uncut birthday cake with seven unlit candles.

R2-D2. She recognized the droid character immediately and realized the recent resurgence of Star Wars popularity must have hooked Kristin’s youngest son, as it had hooked her and Kristin when they were young.

The cake was perfect in both shape and color, with the tiniest details painstakingly recreated. She knew immediately that Kristin had made it. The degree of care and attention evident in the finished product could never be bought, but was an obvious reflection of a mother’s love.

It was this uncut cake, this visual reminder of a celebration cut short by tragedy, that was nearly her undoing.

Emotions churned inside her, clamored for release. Jess held them back. Suppressing her feelings was another thing she’d always been good at. Tears were a luxury she couldn’t afford right now and crying wouldn’t make any difference. Not to Kristin or Brian, and certainly not to Caleb.

Jess looked around once more. Cleaning up this mess couldn’t possibly ease her friend’s burden, but at least it was something useful she could do.

She returned to the kitchen to find a garbage bag.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here.”

She hadn’t heard the door, and when his voice broke the silence, she started, her heart in her throat, her pulse racing wildly. Turning, she found herself once again face-to-face with Nick, and no more prepared for this meeting than she’d been for their earlier encounter.

She exhaled slowly, her heart receding to its appropriate location, her pulse continuing to beat just a little too fast. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said,” he agreed.

“Then you shouldn’t be surprised by my presence.” She turned and headed back to the dining room.

Of course, he followed.