Nick lays his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me close enough to put his lips on my forehead. “Just tell me what to do.”
“Can you pull it out? There’s supposed to be a box in the corner closest near the wall.” I can barely get the words out.
He nods. Moving past me, he shifts the end table aside and jerks the frame. The rustic log headboard drags along the carpet a few inches. Nick tugs again and again. “Do you see it?”
I jump on top of the mattress, and there it is, covered with a layer of dust. I carefully pull it out.
Before I can open it, Nick shoves the bed with me on it back into place. Dropping down next to me, he nods. “Do you know what it is?”
I whisper, “Yes.” I’m surprised I can get anything out over the pounding in my heart.
“What is it?”
My eyes rise from the dust-covered box to meet his, dark and full of secrets. Right now, before I open the box, I make myself a promise that I’ll tell him what I know. I lift the lid, and the smoky bowl of beautiful Chihuly glass is exposed. Nick sharply inhales over the sheer beauty of what’s carefully wrapped inside.
I reach for Nick’s hand and lace my fingers through them. “He left me something to remind me of you.”
Then, still cautious about the beautiful treasure Jed left me, I lean over and whisper my lips over Nick’s stunned ones.
Nicholas
“What do you mean, he left you something that reminds you of me?” I demand once we’re downstairs.
“Patience, Nick. Patience,” Maris teases as she moves around the kitchen, spinning around here and there, grabbing spices from one cabinet, then food from the fridge in a dance so graceful it reminds me of the Whirling Dervishes.
In the hour or so since Brad left and the beast is far enough away from the wall so the home inspector can get to the outlets behind it, Maris has transformed. Gone is the woman carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and in her place is a combination of the vixen I first fell for all those years ago mixed with the woman whose life has experienced enormous upheaval and survived. There’s a flush riding her cheeks, and her eyes are twinkling even as she’s concentrating.
“That’s not what I said,” I mumble. In fact, it’s the furthest thing from the truth. I lost my chance. Didn’t I?
Maris stops plants her feet in place so fast her hair floats down to her shoulders. “Let me fix dinner, and then I’ll start from the beginning.”
Intrigued at the idea of Maris cooking, I hike up onto one of the barstools. “What are you making?”
“Meatloaf.”
Just her saying the word sets my salivary glands in overdrive. “Your mom’s recipe?”
“Is there any other way?” Maris turns to the refrigerator and grabs milk, eggs, ketchup, parsley, and the beef.
“Did you know I used to ask your mother to run away with me when she would make this? Of course, I had the poor taste to do so when your father would be in the room. I think that’s when I learned to start fighting.” My lips twitch at the memories as I spy the familiar ingredients gathering on the counter.
“Nick, if you ever asked me to be with you, it’d better not be because I’m catering to your stomach. It’s going to be because you can’t wait another minute to have me.” My head snaps up, but she spins so I can’t read her face. “Now unless you want me to screw this up, keep quiet for a moment while I measure the ingredients out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” And because this is one of my favorite meals of all time and the woman who is the epitome of every wish I’ve ever had is making it, I do as she asks while Maris molds the meat on the pan.
But as soon as she’s done wiping her hands, I’m out of my seat. Caging her against the sink, I lean down. “Now, explain.”
She lays her head against my heart. “You’re going to have questions.”
“That’s a given.”
“Head into the sunroom. I’ll meet you in there with the last two pieces of the puzzle I’ve been missing. After all, it’s due to you I now have them.”
Because of me? Even though her words don’t make sense, I do as she asks.
“This sunroom is probably my favorite room in the house. I imagine it must be like living inside a storm in the winter,” I muse aloud.
“Exactly that.” I turn when Maris comes in behind me with the dusty box we pulled from under Jed’s bed and the leather-bound book we found behind the console. “You asked me what did I mean by Jed leaving me something that reminds you of me. He also gave you back to me.”
“How?”
“It turns out the things we don’t say to each other has as much impact as the things we do.” Silence lies heavy between us as I grapple with the meaning behind her words. Then she continues. “Despite how it may have appeared, I missed you, Nick—the Nick I knew who I spent summers getting to know just a few yards from here.” She nods her head out the glass windows.
“I missed you too. Every day.” Regret fills my voice.
Maris smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I cross my arms over my chest to hide the fisting of my hands out of sheer nerves. Somehow I know that the secrets she’s about to share with me are about to change us both in ways we’ll never be able to come back from. And I’d be lying if a part of me doesn’t want her to hold them to herself. Her eyes drift downward, so I can only see the fragile lids when she starts talking. “When you left, I resented you didn’t keep your promise to keep in touch because even if you didn’t feel the same way about me that I felt about you, I thought we were friends.” Maris’s eyes flick up at me before drifting out the window, but not before I catch a glimpse of the depth of pain. Pain I would take away if I could. And I can’t help but feel guilt because her pain was an indirect result of my carelessness with my friends.
“It took a long time for me to realize I deserved better than that.” Her chin lifts pugnaciously.
“You did. You do,” I assure her.
“Consciously, yes. I know that. Subconsciously, some part of me didn’t believe that. Otherwise I would have avoided a man like Carter Jones that night in the bar.”
“Is that the man…?”
She nods. “I paid a great price for my pride, Nick.”
“There’s no price too high to pay for pride,” I defend her, stepping closer. But as I do, I notice her eyes are wet.
“Oh, but there can be. Yes, Nick, there truly can be. Anyway.” She presses the box and the leather journal in my hand. “You’ve done a lot of reading lately. But do you remember my saying I’ve been searching for the answers and I couldn’t find them?”
“Yes,” I whisper hoarsely.
“Tonight you helped me find the key. For so long, I felt lost, alone. I thought I lost my brother in the most basic of ways. And tonight, you gave him back to me. After reading this, you might understand why. The rest of the journals I found, that he references, are over there.” I follow the line of Maris’s arm to a bookcase. “If you want to read them, go ahead. They’re in chronological order.” She starts to leave the room.