“What promise is that?”
His gaze snapped to hers, his eyes stormy. But he said nothing to enlighten her.
Georgia opened her mouth to say something else, then thought better of the action. Obviously, Jack had given this matter some thought, and nothing she could say would change his mind. She folded the letter neatly back into thirds, carefully slid it into its envelope and handed it to him. He took it from her silently, gazed at it for a moment, then slid it back into his jacket pocket.
The coffeemaker in the kitchen wheezed its last gasp. Georgia rose and filled two mugs, then carried them carefully back to the living room. When Jack only stared blindly at the mug she extended toward him, she set it on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa beside him again.
As covertly as she could, she stole a glance at his profile, still unable to believe he was actually there, chatting about the twins as if twenty-three years hadn’t passed since their last conversation. He gazed toward the windows that overlooked the beach, obviously consumed by thoughts of his family, and she took advantage of his preoccupation to consider him more fully.
His black hair was kissed with silver, and he had a small scar high on his cheek that hadn’t been there before. She wondered how he’d come by it, wondered about everything that had happened to him after he’d left Carlisle. Without even realizing what she was doing, she glanced down at his left hand to see if he was wearing a wedding band but saw no indication that he had ever slipped one on.
His hands seemed bigger somehow than they had been before. All of him seemed bigger somehow. Over the years, whenever her thoughts had strayed to memories of Jack, she’d recalled a young man of wiry build and awkward movement, a boy who always seemed to be looking over his shoulder or dancing around as if dodging a punch. She supposed that was understandable, seeing as how it hadn’t been unusual for him to show up at her bedroom window bloodied and bruised. The Jack of her youth had been running every bit as scared as she had been.
But this Jack seemed fearless. Solid. Unwavering. His focus was sharp, and he clearly had a plan of action. She just wished she could tell what it was. Somehow, she sensed he was hiding something from her. Even though so many years had passed, and in the scheme of things she really hadn’t known him for that long, Georgia felt as if she could still read Jack intimately. And even beyond all the outward changes, for some reason something about him wasn’t...right.
“So what have you been doing all these years?” she asked, striving for something innocuous to ease the tension she felt eating him up. “Looks like you found a decent job,” she said with a chuckle. “Finally got that car you always wanted, I see, though those D.C. plates come as a surprise. I never thought of you as the urban type.” She tried to sound nonchalant as she added, “What else is there? Are you married with children?”
When he met her gaze again, his eyes were edged with fatigue and sadness. “I’m kind of surprised you’d care about what happened to me after I left Carlisle.”
She was honestly stumped by his response. “Why wouldn’t I care about you?”
He shrugged, sighing heavily. “For some reason I thought you’d be angry with me when I saw you again.”
Again she was puzzled by his assumption. “Why would I be angry with you?”
“Because I... left you.”
The way his voice softened on the last part of his statement made Georgia’s heart hammer a little more fiercely behind her rib cage. “You always promised you would. It’s not like I wasn’t prepared.”
He nodded, straight white teeth catching his lower lip as he thought about something. “Yeah, well, that made one of us,” he told her cryptically.
She decided not to dwell on his odd assertion and instead continued, “After you left town, I consoled myself by telling myself you’d come back for me. Then, after a while, I knew that would never happen. Once I turned eighteen, I sometimes thought about coming after you. But I was never sure where to look.”
“Anyone could have found me who wanted to,” he said. “But no one ever wanted to, apparently.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she objected when she realized what he was trying to say. “Don’t make me out to be the bad guy in this. You’re the one who left Carlisle without even saying goodbye.”
His gaze snapped up to meet hers. “Like you said, I never made a secret of my intentions.”
“No, but you never extended me an invitation to come along, either.”
He shook his head at her in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d need one. Besides, you were only fourteen—you weren’t legal to come. Your father would have had the law on us in no time. Geo, I—”
“Jack, stop.” She rose abruptly and ran a hand nervously through her hair, wanting to kick herself for ever getting them started on this. “There’s too much we could have—should have—said and didn’t. We were kids. Two totally different people from who we are now. Let’s not even talk about your leaving or my not looking for you. We both could have done things differently, but we didn’t, and there’s nothing we can do to change that, all right?”
She forced a smile. “Let’s not allow it to wreck our friendship. You were the best buddy I ever had. We just found each other again. I don’t want anything to spoil that.”
He continued to stare down into his coffee instead of meeting her gaze, but he mumbled softly, “All right. We’ll let it go. For now.”
For now, Georgia repeated. She supposed it was inevitable that they’d have to address the past eventually. But today they were both more than a little dazed at seeing each other again after the passage of so much time. Jack had a lot on his mind where his family was concerned. The last thing they should be doing was rehashing the old days that had brought them so many hard times, and so much unhappiness. But there was still far too much left unsaid and unsettled, she knew. And somehow, some way, soon, they were going to have to address that.
The moment stretched taut, until the back door careened open on the winter wind, and a male voice shouted out, “Georgia! I’m home!”
Georgia and Jack spun abruptly around toward the announcement in time to see a young boy in his middle teens burst into the kitchen and slam the door good-naturedly behind himself. He heaved a stack of school books onto the counter and moved immediately to the refrigerator, yanking open the door to study its contents for a moment before snatching a soda and popping the top with a quick pffft. He was relaxed and unconcerned and clearly quite at home in his surroundings.
Until he looked up and saw Jack. And that’s when the boy snapped to wary attention.
Immediately his gaze shifted to Georgia, his expression a silent question mark. She smiled as she rose from the sofa, then made her way around it and into the kitchen, pulling the boy into a fierce bear hug. Then she stood beside him with her hand roped around his waist, and he draped his arm casually over her shoulder.
But he continued to eye Jack with suspicion, a reaction that Georgia had hoped Evan would be over by now. Still, she supposed he had a reason and a right to be cautious. And maybe someday he wouldn’t be so quick to mistrust.
She gave him another affectionate squeeze, then turned to Jack to make introductions. “Jack,” she said with a proud smile, “I’d like you to meet my son. Evan.”
Three
Her son? Jack echoed to himself, the small word nearly choking off his breath. Georgia had a son? How the hell had that happened? Well, of course, he could pretty well figure out how it had happened, but when? And with whom? And why?
Why? That was the question that stuck in his head most profoundly. Not so much Why does she have a son? but rather Why cou/dn’t she have waited for me? And then he asked himself further just what the hell he was