“You win some, you lose some,” he muttered, doing his best to remain philosophical as he started down the steps.
He really shouldn’t let her attitude bother him. After all, it wasn’t necessary that they like each other. It just would have made the next couple of days a little more pleasant, that’s all. It wasn’t a big deal, certainly nothing he was going to lose any sleep over. It was just that there was something so…what? Familiar? How was that possible? He was certain he had never seen her before today. So why did he have this ridiculous feeling that he knew her, that there was a connection between them?
“You’re frowning.”
Jake glanced up at the sound of Cindy’s voice. She’d broken away from the rest of the wedding party, who had gathered outside the church, and her expression was full of concern. “Was I?”
“Yes, is everything okay? Was there something about the rehearsal you didn’t like?”
“Absolutely not,” he insisted, slipping a reassuring arm around her shoulders. The gesture was unusual for him but there was something vulnerable and soft about Cindy that made it okay.
He thought of Kristin’s hand on his arm, how it had almost felt natural for a moment—but only for a moment. She hadn’t welcomed his touch. In fact, she’d been able to stand it only long enough to get out of the church. How could two sisters be so different?
“Are you sure?”
“It went great and tomorrow it’s going to go even better.” He gestured to the others. “Ask anyone.”
Cindy’s face relaxed. “I hope you’re right.” She breathed out a long sigh, catching Kristin’s eye in the crowd and motioning her over. “I’m just so nervous.”
Jake followed Cindy’s gaze, watching as Kristin made her way toward them. “I think it might run in the family.”
Cindy turned to her sister as she joined them. “Kristin, what if I trip?”
Kristin shrugged. “What if I faint!”
“Oh brother,” Ted said as he approached and immediately reached for Cindy’s hand to pull her to him. “Talk about looking on the dark side. What if everything just happens to turn out fine?”
Cindy looked up at him and sighed again. “You think that’s a possibility?”
“I don’t know, let’s show up tomorrow and find out,” Ted said, placing a kiss on the end of her nose.
Cindy looked at Kristin. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
“Oh what the hell,” Kristin said with a careless wave. “We’ve come this far.” She put a hand on her sister’s arm. “How about we make a deal? I won’t laugh if you trip and you promise to step over me if I faint. What do you say?”
Cindy laughed and patted Kristin’s hand. “It’s a deal.”
“Well, I’m certainly happy we got that settled,” Ted announced dryly. “And Kristin, I should have known that alter ego of yours would come up with a solution.” He glanced down at his wristwatch. “But now we need to get moving. I told my folks we’d meet them at the restaurant.” Turning to the group, he raised his hands. “Okay, everybody, time for free food—follow me!”
It was a long time before Jake had an opportunity to talk to Ted again—long after the rehearsal dinner had ended, long after all the old friends had been greeted and long after all the toasts had been made. The restaurant was nearly empty and most of the wedding party and friends and family had left. As the waiters stacked chairs around them, he and Ted sat alone at a table, watching while Cindy, Kristin and the small group that remained played a lively game of darts in the lounge.
Jake felt exhausted, but it was a good kind of fatigue. He’d been concerned about seeing everyone again—friends, family—about how they would react to him after all this time. But as it was, things had gone fine. Old friends seemed genuinely pleased to see him and it had been good to catch up again. Of course, he’d done his best to keep his distance from Kristin Carey throughout the course of the evening. Although he couldn’t help noticing she didn’t seem to have a problem being friendly to the others at the party.
“You mentioned something back there at the church I was curious about,” he said to Ted as Kristin tossed a dart that missed the board and landed somewhere behind the bar.
“I did?” Ted asked drowsily, taking a sip of his beer.
“Something about Kristin.”
Ted put down his glass and blinked sleepily. “I don’t remember.”
“You said something about an alter ego?” Jake leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Is there…well, you know. Is there something wrong with her? I mean, some kind of weird split-personality thing or something?”
Ted snorted out a laugh. “What? What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know,” Jake insisted, feeling silly now for having brought up the subject. “You’re the one who mentioned an alter ego. What the hell else is that supposed to mean?”
Ted laughed again and took another drink of beer. “Well, you don’t have to worry. There’s nothing wrong with her. I was just referring to…well, she has this job. She doesn’t like to talk about her work, but…well, she’s on the radio—”
Jake felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end and a strange-sounding tinkle rang in his ears.
“It’s a talk show. Late-night sort of thing,” Ted continued. “Called ‘Lost Loves.’ It’s really very popular and…well, Cindy and I tease her about having an alter ego because she doesn’t use her real name on the program. On the air she’s known as Jane Streeter—Dear Jane.”
Kristin took aim with the dart and let it fly across the room. But instead of sailing into the bristled board, it took a dramatic nosedive and landed snugly in the wooden leg of the bar stool. Covering her mouth with her hand, she grimaced. That one had surprised even her. Behind her, though, the group in the lounge erupted in laughter and cheers.
“I meant to do that,” she deadpanned as she turned around, which only brought a barrage of hoots and whistles.
“Good form though,” Cindy shouted over the noise. “And I don’t think there’s a person here who could have done that if they tried.”
“I stink,” she stated flatly, reaching for her wineglass.
Cindy paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, you do.” She leaned close, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “But I love you anyway, little sister.”
Kristin smiled. “And I think you’re a little tipsy.”
“Me?” Cindy gasped dramatically, then shook her head. “Naw.”
“Karaoke time!”
They both turned as Cindy’s longtime friend, co-worker and bridesmaid, Dana Byrd, came rushing up.
“Come on, Cin, get up here,” she said, grabbing Cindy by the hand and pulling her to her feet.
“What? No! No, no,” Cindy protested, shaking her head. “I can’t sing.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not a requirement,” Dana assured her as the rest of the group began clapping and chanting: “Cin-dy, Cin-dy, Cin-dy!”
“Kristin, help,” Cindy pleaded as Dana dragged her off. “Don’t let them do this.”
“What can I do?” Kristin asked, tossing her hands up in a helpless gesture. “Your public won’t take no for an answer.” As Dana pulled Cindy farther away, she raised her voice to be heard over the din. “But don’t worry about embarrassing the family. I’ve already taken care of that.”
Kristin