Winter Longing (15 page)
I found myself wondering about him, what he was really like. Not what I’d assumed over the past few years. What did he want to do with his life? Did he aspire to leaving Alaska, as Spencer had? As I did? I had no idea if he was good enough to play in the NHL; but if so, was that what he wanted? Or did he just want to stay in Tundra and take over his family’s grocery business?
And what were his thoughts about me?
I kept wondering why his invitation—and the simple fact that he’d noticed me at the hockey game—made me feel strange. Maybe it was to be expected when people from two circles collided. We didn’t know how to speak each other’s languages, necessarily, but were fascinated by each other nonetheless.
I’d started doodling a “J” on the pad when the front door opened. I looked up to see Mrs. Isaacs walking toward me, her steps hesitant. Guilt that I hadn’t gone to see her—that I’d been thinking of another guy instead of Spencer—clawed at me from the inside. Her appearance felt like a smack on my face. One I deserved.
She gave me a small smile.
“Hi, Winter.”
My voice broke when I tried to speak. I had to swallow before trying again. “Hi.” We stared at each other for several awkward seconds, and that made me sad. Shame threatened to steal my breath. “Can . . . can I get you something?”
She looked at the menu above my head, as though she’d never stepped foot in Oregano’s. “I think I’d like an Italian sub.”
I scratched out the “J” with more pressure than necessary and flipped over the pad to write down her order. I handed it to Casey as she came in and hurried by me to the kitchen.
Spencer’s mom lifted a hand, and I noticed she held a Tundra Books bag. “The book you had on back order came in. I’m sorry. I’ve had it more than a week. I . . . I think I was trying to build up the courage to bring it over.”
The lump in my throat swelled to baseball size, and I fought tears when I accepted the bag, which was like so many others I’d accepted from Spencer over the years. I didn’t want to cry in front of Mrs. Isaacs, but it was difficult to hold it together. How clearly I remembered the last time I’d asked him about this book—a costume-design manual I’d coveted.
“Is that book ever going to get here?” I’d asked him in frustration.
Spencer had leaned across the counter and smiled at me. “When it arrives, I’ll bring it to you personally. We aim to please at Tundra Books.”
Sadness washed over me that he hadn’t been able to keep his promise. Guilt followed the sadness as I realized that a more-than-friendly interest was building between Jesse and me, despite how I still felt about Spencer.
I refocused on the fact that Mrs. Isaacs was standing in front of me. I’d deal with my own problems later.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been to the store,” I said, unable to meet her eyes.
She placed her hand atop mine on the counter. “I understand. We both needed time.”
I looked at her and noticed how much older she looked than she had only two months ago. I’d lost a great friend, someone I’d loved, but how horrible must it be to lose an only child? I couldn’t imagine how she and Mr. Isaacs even got out of bed in the morning. There were days when I didn’t think I would be able to expend that much energy.
She squeezed my hand with gentle pressure. “I wanted to thank you for always being such a wonderful friend to Spencer. And I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to be more.”
God, my heart nearly split at the thought that Spencer had told his mother about his feelings.
All I could do without breaking down was nod as she squeezed my hand and accepted her sandwich. Then she was gone.
Casey placed her hand on my back. “Do you need a break? ”
I shook my head. I knew if I started crying, I wouldn’t stop. “I’ll be fine in a minute.” Or a year, or maybe never.
As if fate hadn’t heaped enough on me, a little while after Spencer’s mom left, Jesse and some of his hockey teammates came in, their faces still flushed from practice. That scratched-out “J” on the back of the order pad taunted me. What had I been thinking?
I swallowed the fresh sorrow and forced myself to their table. Thankfully, Drew wasn’t with them, so at least I didn’t have to deal with him. My body felt like it was going to shake into jagged shards from the effort of holding in the urge to cry. God, I was so tired of crying.
“What can I get you all?”
“Large pepperoni, large supreme, and a pitcher of Coke,” Charlie said.
“And toss in some garlic bread sticks,” Jesse added.
I made the mistake of looking at him. His dark eyes showed an affection for me that was hard to accept. So I broke eye contact and turned away as I was still writing the final part of the order.
I handed the ticket to Casey, then went to the drink fountain for the Coke. I heard footsteps approaching, but I ignored them. I was so afraid they were his.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Mmm-hmm.” I kept my gaze focused on the steady stream of Coke as it filled the pitcher.
He took a couple more steps and leaned on the counter in front of me. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”
I tried to wave off his concern. “Nothing.” When I slid the pitcher across the counter to him, he caught my hand. He held it tightly, forcing me to meet his eyes.
Unable to hold it in any longer, I let out a slow, shaky breath. “I just talked to Spencer’s mom . . . for the first time since his funeral. It brought up a lot of the pain again.”
I wasn’t about to spill how I’d been thinking about his party and how I’d felt guilty about it the moment I saw Mrs. Isaacs. Or how much I’d really loved Spencer—still did. How I missed him as if some part of myself had been ripped away.
Or how he, Jesse, was making me feel things I didn’t think I had a right to feel.
As if sensing those feelings, he ran his thumb across the back of my hand. A warm, tingling sensation fanned out from where he touched me, swiftly spreading throughout the rest of my body.
“I hope it gets better soon.”
I met his gaze and realized that his words held a double meaning. While he might genuinely hope I’d get over my grief, I got the feeling he was waiting for some sign that he could make a bigger move.
Was I dreaming again? Because this scenario couldn’t be real.
“Come on, Jess, I’m thirsty,” Alex Mifflin called out from the table.
Jesse hesitated before letting go of my hand, and he held my gaze a few beats longer.
“Things happen when we least expect them,” he said. “But I think they happen for a reason.”
I found myself nodding, agreeing with his logic even though somewhere deep down I realized it meant that Spencer’s death had happened for a reason other than stripping him of his chance for a long, happy life.
Jesse reached forward and caressed my hand again. “If you want to talk later, when you get home, call me.”
A new emotion—gratefulness—bloomed, joining the others that were doing a turbulent dance inside me. I was touched by the sincerity of his offer and couldn’t believe this was the same Jesse Kerr I’d gone to school with since the sixth grade.
Accompanying the gratefulness, however, were nerves. Lots of them. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he’d like to do more than just talk.
And I was surprised by how much I was tempted to take him up on his offer.
“I bet you won’t be able to see the stars like this in L.A.,” Spencer said as he lay beside me in my backyard, staring up at the constellations blanketing the sky.
“No, I’ll see stars of the movie variety.”
“Maybe I’ll fly down, and you can show me all the homes of the stars.”
“And maybe, if you’re really nice, I’ll come home on occasion and we can watch the sky.”
“Then I’ll be really, really nice.”
The way he said it, deeper and slower than usual, made a delicious chill race across my skin.
CHAPTER 20
By
the time I left Oregano’s, my common sense had begun to return. The idea of talking to Jesse—especially about Spencer—while knowing how Jesse seemed to feel about me was just too weird. Even if he wasn’t the least bit interested romantically—and the possibility that he was seemed surreal—what good would talking about my lingering sorrow do anyway? After all, discussing it with Lindsay had been difficult enough!
the time I left Oregano’s, my common sense had begun to return. The idea of talking to Jesse—especially about Spencer—while knowing how Jesse seemed to feel about me was just too weird. Even if he wasn’t the least bit interested romantically—and the possibility that he was seemed surreal—what good would talking about my lingering sorrow do anyway? After all, discussing it with Lindsay had been difficult enough!
Mom and Dad told me that the only thing that was going to help was time. Maybe they were right, but I couldn’t imagine enough time passing that would erase my feelings for Spencer and my sense of loss.
I could have gone home with Lindsay, but I didn’t want my mood to bring her down. Mom and Dad had flown to a medical conference in Anchorage that morning, so tonight I’d have to stay home alone. It didn’t scare me. I mean, we weren’t in a crime-ridden city or anything. But being alone with my thoughts tonight made me want to be anywhere but my own mind. I was afraid the sorrow might fill up all the empty space in the house. That, or I’d have way too much time to consider the unexpected temptation that came in the form of the boy next door.
I didn’t notice anyone else on the street as I approached the house, not until Jesse spoke.
“Hey.”
I jumped, then immediately felt like an idiot. Though darkness lay heavy on Tundra, I could see him standing at his family’s mailbox, several envelopes in hand. His house shed just enough light to reveal his shape.
My face heated, and I wondered if he could see me glowing in the dark.
Just act normal.
“Hey. Little late to be getting the mail, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Brenda forgot,” he said.
I wondered if I should go inside. I was having to fight way too hard to resist thinking about him in a way I’d only ever thought about Spencer.
“She just made some brownies. They’re still hot,” he said. “Want some?”
I hesitated, but the lure of brownies and human interaction versus the loneliness of my house was too much to resist. “Okay.”
Once we entered the Kerrs’ house, Jesse led the way toward the kitchen, though I could have just as easily followed the comforting smell of fresh-baked brownies that lingered in the air.
“Well, hi, Winter,” Brenda said from behind the kitchen counter. “Nice to see you.”
“Thanks. You too.” What an odd conversation. We saw each other all the time. You couldn’t live in Tundra, right next door to someone, and not see each other.
Jesse tossed a few brownies onto a plate before taking my hand. “Come on.”
I didn’t resist as he guided me toward the back porch. I felt oddly powerless to make any sort of objection. I didn’t want to, even though guilt burned inside me.
The porch’s screened windows were always open in the warmer months, allowing the Kerrs to sit outside and not be eaten alive by Alaska’s insatiable mosquitoes. But now the windows were all shut against the damp, chilly October air. Frost formed around the exterior edges.
Jesse released my hand as he placed the plate of brownies on a small, wooden table between two white Adirondack chairs similar to the ones on our back deck.
We sat in silence, chewing on our respective brownies for a couple of minutes, before the silence got to me. “These are amazing,” I said. “Just what I needed.”
He glanced over at me, and I noticed he’d let his long hair grow even more. The dark brown waves brushed his collar. It suited him, and I had to admit it was übersexy.
“Thought you could use some chocolate. And I like the company.” There it was again, a deeper meaning to words that were just friendly on the surface.
More silence stretched between us, and I struggled with my response. Flustered, I took a too-big bite of brownie and turned away so I could chew and swallow without him seeing how nervous he was making me.
Jeez, I felt like I was in Bizarro Tundra, where nothing made sense. Maybe when I’d slammed into him on Labor Day, I’d slipped into an alternate universe where Spencer was gone and Jesse Kerr was attracted to me instead of girls like Patrice Murray.
Even Patrice was crazy.
More details about the cause of the fight had leaked out and been whispered around school. Word was that Jesse wasn’t enough for Patrice, and she’d been seeing someone else behind his back. The gossip chain hadn’t revealed who guy No. 2 was yet, but it was only a matter of time. Secrets didn’t stay secrets in Tundra.
What was wrong with Patrice? Sure, I’d been in love with Spencer for years, but I wasn’t so blind that I couldn’t appreciate Jesse’s good looks. He was tall with longish dark-chestnut hair and eyes barely a shade lighter. And as I was figuring out, he was a decent guy. So unless Patrice had Paul Walker or Vin Diesel waiting in a hidden cabin somewhere, she was stupid.
“Are you doing better than earlier?” he asked.
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