Not This Time Read online

  Bitterness hovered in a dark cloud above her. She’d been praying for its release. Every day she felt its effects less, but then it would rear its ugly head at the most inopportune times—such as now. Tonight should be fun, a reunion between old friends, yet she thought of Tim and the cloud reappeared.

  “Take it away, please, Lord,” she whispered as she walked. She suspected the negative emotions that came with her mind’s mention of Tim surfaced because of the connection between him and Drew. They were complete opposites, except she’d given her heart to both of them and each had walked away.

  Absorbed in her prayers for peace, she walked past Drew’s house, not noticing until she saw the iconic, life-size carved bear statue standing at the entrance of his neighbor’s driveway. The familiar sight brought a smile to her face, a different reaction than when she’d first seen it one summer night and screamed, not realizing it was a fancy piece of wood. She’d been six, on a walk with her parents—the first time she remembered coming to Jasper Lake.

  When she turned around, a pebble got caught between her foot and sandal. She stopped, removed the shoe and shook out the stone. After replacing her sandal, she continued down the lane and paused by Drew’s mailbox. The little red flag was raised, which reminded her she had to send out a few bills tomorrow.

  The last time she’d stood in this spot was the last time she’d seen Drew that summer. They’d broken up minutes prior and were saying their goodbyes. Always a gentleman, he’d offered to walk her home, but she’d declined. So many bittersweet memories tied into one summer.

  She forced one foot in front of the other. The nervous half of her emotions outweighed the excited half at the moment. Hopefully once she was there, and greetings had all been exchanged, she’d get past the discomfort.

  The door opened as she approached the house. Had Drew been watching for her? Oh no! Had he seen her linger before walking down the driveway? If so, he’d know she was nervous. Maybe it was Dena opening the door. Or not.

  Drew appeared, his mouth curled into a half smile. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She wished she had pockets to shove her hands inside.

  He scratched the corner of his eye. “Dena just called. Clint had some vehicle trouble earlier in the day, and she went to get him. They were going to be here still, but apparently, Clint’s boss said the truck needs to be fixed by tomorrow.”

  “Saturday?”

  He nodded.

  “Are they coming at all?” As if she wasn’t already off-kilter by merely being there.

  “She said they’d try to get here for dessert.” Drew sighed. “I’ll be honest, I’m pretty sure this was a setup.”

  “You think?” She couldn’t imagine Dena placing her in an uncomfortable situation.

  Scrunching his face, Drew nodded. “It’s not even a company truck.”

  “Oh.” She ran shaky fingers through her hair in an attempt to disguise them.

  “You’re still welcome to stay.” He angled his body and extended an arm, pointed to the rear of the house where the kitchen was. “Dinner's ready.”

  Glancing at him, she tried to ascertain if the invitation was genuine, and his expression offered no reason to doubt his sincerity. She opted for a light tone. “What did you make?”

  “Lemon pepper trout, a loaf of Italian bread, and Dena dropped off an orzo salad earlier.” Drew rolled his eyes. “Now that I think about it, that should have been my first clue.”

  Empty hands made her self-conscious. “I didn’t bring anything.”

  “I didn’t expect you to,” he countered with a reassuring smile. “Are you staying?”

  “Why not?” She shrugged and took a step forward. “No reason two old friends can’t share a meal.”

  “No reason, indeed,” he muttered as she walked past him, and she was confident she wasn’t supposed to hear the words.

  Once in the kitchen, she looked around. Nothing had changed since she’d last been there, including the avocado-colored refrigerator. “How can I help?”

  “You can set the table if you’d like?” He pointed to the deck. “I planned to eat outside. The bugs shouldn’t be a problem yet, but I already lit a few repellant candles to be on the safe side.”

  The cabinets captured her attention. “Is everything where it’s always been?”

  “Yes. Mom hates change. I couldn’t believe Dad convinced her to move to Florida.”

  Amie opened a cabinet door, pleased to see she’d remembered the correct one for plates. “I don’t know, the Sullivan men can be pretty convincing when they want something.”

  “I recall the same thing about Reynolds women.” He snuck behind her and dropped utensils on the dishes she’d pulled out. “Silverware.”

  Fire burned her cheeks, and his near presence disarmed her. He’d made a blatant reference to the beginning of their relationship when she’d told him they owed themselves a chance to test a romantic relationship. If it had been Drew’s call, they would have remained friends forever. He’d been willing to deny a romance as to not risk their friendship. She supposed he’d been a little wiser than her in that regard—as it turned out, he was right.

  When he backed away, she let out the breath she held. She needed safe, neutral territory. “How do your parents like Florida?”

  “Overall, they are happy there. They enjoy the warm winters, but I think they miss the snow.” He pulled two cups from a nearby cabinet. “Soda, tea, or water?”

  “Water’s fine.” She went outside to the oblong patio table. Starting at the table, she tucked her bottom lip under her top teeth. Where to set the plates… One at each end placed an impersonal distance between them. Placing them on each side would require a noticeable eye aversion to avoid constant eye contact. You’re putting entirely too much thought into this. She discarded both options and put one at the end, and the other catty-corner.

  Drew set full glasses by each plate. “Have a seat. I’ll bring out the food.”

  Unaccustomed to being waited on, she had to quell the impulse to volunteer more assistance. She sat in the seat along the table’s long end and grabbed a napkin from the porcelain holder on the table. After unfolding it, she laid it in her lap.

  “Hope you’re hungry. We have plenty since I expected more of us, and the fish doesn’t reheat well.” The filets filled the white porcelain platter Drew laid on the table. He returned shortly with a bowl each of salad and sliced bread.

  “Looks delicious.” She helped herself to a portion of each food.

  Her chosen seating arrangement proved a wise choice as the dinner progressed. They fell into natural conversation, most of which consisted of summer memories before the one when they dated. She forked her last bite of food and was chewing when Drew’s phone rang.

  “Excuse me a minute. It’s probably Dena.”

  With food still in her mouth, she could only nod.

  Drew went to the kitchen, and she heard him answer, “Hi, Dena.”

  She tried not to eavesdrop, but he’d left the door open so there was nothing to block his voice. A few sentences later, she realized Dena and Clint wouldn’t make dessert either. By Drew’s disgruntled voice, she could tell if this was a setup—and it became clearer that it was—Drew’s involvement was unmediated and involuntary.

  He returned to the table with a tight smile. “Guess what.”

  “Your sister isn’t coming.” She drank a sip of water. “I didn’t mean to listen, but couldn’t help overhear.”

  “I should’ve figured.” He scowled, then his features softened. “Her intentions are good, even if misguided.”

  A nudge of disappointment pushed against Amie when Drew used the word misguided. It should have made her happy he had no romantic intentions since that was the last thing she needed—or wanted—but, nonetheless, there was her regret.

  “How did Dena and Clint wind up married?” When she’d first heard the news, she’d been surprised the kids who’d always argued had gotten married. Her curiosity was piqued, and
she would have asked Dena, had she not backed out tonight.

  “She and Clint had been picking at each other more than usual, to such an extreme they couldn’t be in the same room.”

  “That bad? What did they fight about?” She only remembered them arguing in a good-natured way, much like siblings did.

  “I came home for a week that summer to attend Dena’s twentieth birthday party. Apparently there was a new guy in town—he’s long gone now—but he’d set his attentions on Dena. She invited him as her date, primarily to antagonize Clint, though I’d doubt she’d ever admit it.” Drew smiled as he talked, seeming to hold back a laugh. “The guy was a jerk and flirted with every girl at the party. Clint decided to point it out to Dena.”

  “You’re kidding, right? That’s gutsy.”

  He shook his head. “She didn’t appreciate him pointing out the obvious, but when she spun to walk away, her heel got caught in a hole of the dock. She started to trip and fall in the water. Clint grabbed her, but in the process, they both fell in the lake.”

  “I can picture it now.” Amie leaned back and loosely crossed her arms. “I bet Dena was spitting mad when she came out of the water.”

  Drew chuckled. “Actually, she was laughing. That moment made them both realize how they felt. Less than a year later they were married.”

  “Life has a strange way of bringing people together.”

  “That it does.” He pushed away from the table but didn’t stand or say anything.

  She began to clear the dishes. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”

  “Put them down, you’re my guest.” His gaze wandered behind her and then back. “Would you like to take a walk before dessert?”

  Yes—No. “Sure.”

  Chapter Six

  Drew caught a glimpse of Amie from the corner of his eye. She stared straight ahead as if afraid to make eye contact. What was I thinking when I suggested a walk? That I enjoyed her company over dinner and wanted to stretch out the evening. Maybe it was too much, too soon. A walk along the lake at dusk created a more intimate atmosphere than dinner.

  “We won’t get in trouble for crossing over onto someone else’s property?” Amie looked at him for the first time since leaving the house.

  “No. The Jeffords were the only ones who had a problem with it.”

  “They aren’t here anymore?”

  “Mr. Bill passed away several years ago, and his wife moved with their son to Poughkeepsie. Their youngest daughter lives in the house, and she doesn’t mind people crossing the property by the lake as long as they’re respectful.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about Mr. Bill. It was a pain to go all the way to the road to bypass his place and then back to the lake, but he was still a nice man.”

  “When I was little, he never minded, but one summer there were several families living in the rentals around the lake, one right next to the Jeffords.” He reached out, caught a firefly that blinked in front of him, then released it. “My parents told me a few years ago that those families always left trash on his property, and one night they even untethered his boat and took it out. After that was when he cracked down on trespassing.”

  “In that case, it’s understandable why he didn’t want any cutting through. Aunt Sally has found a few empty soda cans and beer bottles before, but not recently that she’s mentioned.” Amie pulled a hair tie from her wrist and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “Aren’t the temps supposed to drop as the sun sets?”

  “Typically, but there’s a warm front coming.”

  “Let me guess, you know this because you checked the fishing forecast?” The sun still shone enough to see her wink.

  “Of course.”

  She chuckled. “What a surprise.”

  “Do you still fish?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  She cringed. “I only went fishing to spend time with Uncle Hank.”

  He arched a brow. “You never seemed to mind it when we went.”

  “Same concept,” she answered, then quickly looked away.

  Oh. “Well, I have a confession, too.”

  “You don’t like fishing either?” A smirk covered her face.

  “Never.” They reached the lake’s shore and made a left along the worn path. “I don’t like lemonade.”

  “Since when?”

  “I can’t remember a time I ever did like it, but never had the heart to tell you.” He watched for her reaction, and he was relieved she smiled and took the announcement with a grain of humor.

  “You were my first customer that year I had a lemonade stand.” She stopped and shook a finger at him. “Told me it was the best you’d ever had.”

  “That was true because I’d only had it once before that.” He cast her a wink, and they walked again.

  “Any other secrets I should know?”

  “Then they wouldn’t be secrets anymore.”

  She playfully punched his arm. “You’re still a pest, you know that?”

  “No, that title’s reserved for Dena.”

  “Especially tonight.” A brief frown shadowed her face.

  Her comment slapped his ego. “It hasn’t been so bad, has it?”

  For a few seconds, she didn’t answer. After a bit, she turned and met his gaze. “No, it hasn’t.”

  “But awkward at the beginning?”

  “Oh dear goodness, yes,” she spilled out in a rushed breath. “Well, not awkward exactly, but nerve-wracking. I didn’t know what to expect, and then you told me Dena wouldn’t be there. I was hoping she’d be a buffer.”

  “You and me both.” The openness of their conversation put him more at ease. “I was more nervous than when I presented my first case in court.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Sad, but true.” He took the lead and stepped forward on the trail. “Of course, the scenarios you envision in your head are always worse than reality.”

  “Funny how that works, isn’t it?” Her hands dangled at her sides as she walked.

  He had a flashback of the same place, different time when they would have held hands. “Have you decided how long you’re staying in Jasper Lake?”

  “Not yet.” She bit her lip. “I don’t have to go back to work for three months, so I have a while yet.”

  “Must be a great job to have that much vacation time.” Makes the two months they gave me seem piddly.

  “I, um, have another confession. When I said I had several weeks of vacation, I meant I took a leave of absence.” Her eyes darted toward the ground, refusing to look at him.

  The lawyer in him sensed her reluctant desire to explain. “Something you want to share?”

  Slowly, her gaze lifted to his. “Have you ever thought life would turn out one way, and then lands you a huge blow?”

  He had to stifle a laugh at the irony. “More than you know.”

  A curious sheen sparked in her eyes, but she didn’t press him. “I haven’t even told Dena this, so I don’t know why I’m telling you.”

  Bending his elbow, he nudged her. “Hey, you haven’t told me anything yet.”

  It had the desired effect, and she laughed. “I forgot how easy you are to talk to.”

  “What’s going on, Amie?” In that instant, their friendship was as it once had been. He wanted to know what happened, not to be nosy, but because he cared as a friend.

  “I was engaged.”

  “Was?”

  “He’s an anthropologist. The night before our wedding he received a call to study a tribe in South America. By morning he was gone.” She didn’t sound angry, but rather resigned to the fact.

  “Just like that?”

  She nodded. “He left a note, but that’s it.”

  “What a coward.” The insult slipped out before he could stop it. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve called him much worse.”

  “How long will he be gone?”

  “Years.” She rolled her
eyes. “He didn’t even give me the privilege of breaking it off, instead his note said he didn’t expect me to wait for him.”

  “Would you have? If given that option?” The answer intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

  “I’m not sure. Most of the time I think not, but then a part of me argues that I would have married him and made vows to stay through the thick and thin, so I should have waited.” She clasped her hands in front of her, twiddling her fingers.

  His own experience clouded his response, and he paused to give thought before he answered. “For what it’s worth, my opinion would be this—the first issue is that you were never given the chance to make that vow, so you’re not beholden to it. Secondly, your fiancé made a choice to leave without consulting you. A decision of that magnitude should have been discussed. Finally, any man who would leave his fiancée like that, especially the night before their wedding, doesn’t deserve the time of day.”

  Amie sighed with a heaviness that made his heart ache for an old friend. “My brain knows all that, but my heart isn’t always in agreement. I’ve been praying to release the anger toward him and to find peace. It’s slow moving, but coming along.”

  “The simple truth is, he didn’t deserve you. If he did, you’d be married by now.”

  “It hurts, but I have accepted that being jilted was a blessing in disguise and has helped the healing process. Tim’s not a bad person, but he is very involved in his work. His career is his number one priority and always will be.”

  “I was that person for a long time. For years, my life was work and school, nothing more. Once I graduated, I devoted myself to work.” He felt guilty for not telling her the full story when she’d been so open—but not enough to make him spill the rest. “It’s not a healthy way to live.”

  “What changed?”

  “I woke up one day and realized how naïve I’d been.” He twisted his lips, contemplating a way to answer without any details. “In my line of work, it’s a given not everyone can be trusted, but you form bonds you think can’t be broken. When I realized they were all a lie, I questioned what I was doing. I loved my job, but longed for simpler, more honest times.”