It was Clay’s mother who came to the door, and Jordan put on her most winning smile in greeting. She’d met Lorraine McAdam when she and Clay were dating, and had liked her. An attractive woman with short blonde hair and a trim figure, Lorraine looked much the same as she had back then.
“Hello, Jordan,” she said warmly. “My, you haven’t changed a bit. I seem to be the only one who ages around here.”
“Not that I can see,” Jordan replied brightly. “It’s lovely to see you again, Lorraine.”
Lorraine smiled down at Molly. “You must be Molly. Alice has been waiting for you.”
Molly bolted into the house to join Alice and the other children, whose chattering voices filtered out from the living room. Jordan lingered in the vestibule, feeling awkward standing next to the woman who might have been her mother-in-law, had circumstances unfolded along a different path.
“Come in, make yourself comfortable,” Lorraine said.
“This house is gorgeous.” Jordan gazed around at the carpeted sunken living room and dining room, furnished in teak and fabrics of muted tones.
“Thank you. Clay bought it for me a few years ago. I always dreamed of retiring here, but of course I never thought it was a possibility. You just don’t know how your fortune will turn, do you?”
“Very true,” Jordan said.
Moving into the living room, she joined her daughter and four other girls, gathered around a stack of presents on the coffee table. They were all seated cross-legged on the carpet, talking over each other so she couldn’t decipher any single conversation. Molly looked ecstatic, beaming from ear to ear as she laughed with Alice and another girl. Remembering how important her tight-knit group of friends had been to her growing up, Jordan was delighted to see Molly fitting in so well.
“Is this Jordan?”
She turned around as a woman approached from the kitchen doorway. She had long dark curls and bright blue eyes, and walked with her back arched to accommodate her heavily pregnant belly.
“Jordan, it’s so nice to meet you, finally,” she said, her smile broad but stiff. “I’m Sheryl.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jordan echoed, nodding. “You look like you’re due pretty soon.”
Sheryl patted her round belly with affection. “Two weeks.”
“Can I help you at all? You should get off your feet.”
Sheryl waved away the offer. “I’m fine. I’ll admit, it’s not as easy as it was ten years ago when I was expecting Alice, but I prefer to keep busy. Can I get you a drink? We’ve just opened some red wine.”
Jordan smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
Accepting her glass of wine from Sheryl, Jordan looked up to see Clay on her other side, his hands resting casually in the front pockets of his jeans, his gaze assessing her coolly. As their eyes locked, at once she felt her heart stutter and her knees threaten to buckle.
“Glad you could make it,” he said evenly.
Jordan smiled, wondering what he was really thinking. Was he truly glad to see her or silently ruing his impulsive invitation?
“I don’t have to stay long,” she said, taking a long swallow of wine.
“Don’t be silly. I invited you.”
“Yes, but that was before … the other evening.” She glanced back to where Clay’s sister had been, but she was no longer there, having moved back into the kitchen.
“You don’t need to feel uncomfortable,” Clay said. “I’m the one who should be embarrassed. I am sorry about what happened. I was way out of line. I suppose I got lost in the moment.”
Jordan felt warmth rise in her face. Amid the din of children’s laughter and chatter, she could easily recall the pleasure of his kisses in the dark. “It’s just that I’m not ready to get involved,” she struggled to explain. “My marriage has just broken up. I need some time to sort myself out.”
“I understand. I ought to, considering I’ve gone through the same thing.”
“It’s all right. We can just forget about it,” she said quietly, swallowing more of her wine. If only she
could
erase that evening from her mind.
In a moment Sheryl emerged from the kitchen, carrying trays of snacks for the girls. She set the trays on the dining room table, and the girls leapt to their feet and scurried over, dipping their hands into bowls of chips and cheese sticks.
One of the girls, her hands overflowing with corn chips, stopped in front of Clay and studied him a moment.
“You’re that archeologist on TV,” she said matter-of-factly. “My mom watches you all the time. Where’s your hat?”
Clay’s mouth twitched up at the edges. “I must have left it in one of the Egyptian pyramids,” he said playfully.
The girl’s eyes widened. “Did you find any treasure there?”
“No, unfortunately grave robbers cleaned out the pyramids centuries ago.”
“Oh,” she said, her expression drooping in disappointment.
“You know, archeology isn’t really about finding treasure,” Clay went on. “We work more with dirt and bits of rock and clay. What’s exciting is when we can fit all the little pieces together, like pieces of a puzzle, to discover something new about the past, and how our ancestors lived.”
The girl’s face brightened a bit. “Cool.”
Reaching into his back pocket, Clay pulled out a coin that Jordan remembered well. “See this?” he said, showing the girl the silver disc, the size of a dime but with rougher edges, and Classical figures stamped on the faces. “It’s a Roman coin. It’s not worth much, since so many have been found, but to me this is a real treasure. It’s amazing just to think that over 1600 years ago, someone held the same coin in his hand that I’m holding in my hand now.”
The girl observed the coin reverently, peering closely at it in the palm of his hand. “Did you dig this out of the ground?”
“Actually my dad bought it at a coin store. He gave it to me when I was a little boy. This is in part what inspired me to go into archeology in the first place.”
After the girl moved off to join the other kids, who were now handing Alice her presents for opening, Jordan watched Clay enfold the coin in his hand, and then slide it into his pocket. She recalled him showing her that coin years ago, on one of their first dates. She was amazed he still carried it around with him. It had always made her heart swell to hear him talk about his passion for his work—despite the fact that his life’s work had effectively brought an end to their relationship.
“You really impressed her,” she said, nudging his arm. “You’re probably the most famous archeologist in North America. Somewhat of a modern-day Indiana Jones.”
Clay’s eyes rolled upward. “If only. I haven’t unearthed anything myself in years. My show involved profiling the great historic finds of other archeologists. Not that it wasn’t challenging. The pace was incredible, and so were the physical demands of filming in remote locations. But it was show business, not archeology.” His grin widened. “But I’ll admit, it was an amazing experience. I’ve been able to gain access to places and artifacts most people will never see.”
Jordan felt her pulse speed up a little. His incredible smile still had an effect on her, especially after downing a glass of wine in record time. It eased her anxiety considerably.
“Why did they cancel your show?” she wondered. “I thought it was really popular.”
“I suppose it had run its course.” Clay raised his broad shoulders. “The ratings were lagging. After five years we may have just run out of interesting places to explore.”
“Are you sure you can handle being a professor, stuck in one place?”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I think I can. I’ve had my fill of adventure, Jordan. It was exhilarating but exhausting. Besides, all this is new for me. I’ve never made it to one of Alice’s birthday parties.” He lifted his chin toward the group of girls, who were admiring the glittery purse Alice had just unwrapped. “I could get to like this quite a bit.”
“And now you’ll have another niece or nephew to get to know,” Jordan said, tilting her head toward Sheryl.
“And kids of my own, I hope.” His expression grew more serious, his gaze holding hers.
Feeling her stomach dip, Jordan swallowed the last of her wine. “So did you carry that Roman coin with you all around the world?”
Clay patted his back pocket, smiling. “You bet. Almost lost it a few times. I may not have had the best of luck this year, but at least my lucky charm hasn’t deserted me.” He lifted one shoulder. “Anyway, it’s not really a lucky charm. It’s more of a reminder of my dad. It keeps him with me. Sheryl does the same thing; she carries his university ring on her keychain.”
“I know his loss was a big blow to your family,” Jordan said. Though Clay hadn’t liked to talk about it back when they were dating, Jordan had seen the pain in his eyes whenever he spoke of his dad, and come to realize how much he’d missed having a father growing up—and the poor substitute his stepfather had made. She remembered, too, that Clay’s memories of his father’s love of history had become a driving force in his life.
He nodded, his mouth tightening at the edges. “I sometimes try to picture what he would’ve been like now, as an older man. I imagine this is just the sort of house he would’ve wanted to retire to.”
“You still think about that sort of thing?”
“More than I should, probably. Mainly I wonder whether he would’ve been proud of me.”
“Of course he would, Clay.” Jordan’s words came out more impassioned than she’d intended. “Not just because of your success, or the house you could afford to buy, but because you’re a good man.”
His gaze held hers, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve just reminded me of something.”
“What?”
“The reason I fell in love with you. Your kindness and compassion. I’m glad to know you’re still the same in that respect.”
“Thank you.” Jordan felt heat flood her face again. Clay’s old habit of speaking aloud whatever entered his mind was both a blessing and a curse. “Would you get me more wine, please?”
* * *
Heading into the kitchen with Jordan’s empty glass, Clay came upon his sister by the counter, bent over Alice’s cake, carefully decorating the sides with tiny pink rosettes.
“Looks great,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“Just getting a refill for Jordan.”
Though Sheryl didn’t look up, from the side he saw her eyebrows inch upward. “She drained the first one quickly.”
“Don’t start, Sheryl. You promised me you’d be nice.”
“I’ve been perfectly nice,” his sister objected, still keeping her eyes on her work. “But I saw the look on your face when she walked in the room. Even after all these years, she’s got you under her spell.”
“She is bewitching, I’ll admit,” he said with a teasing grin. “But may I remind you, you’re the one who called her up to make sure she came. Is it that you wanted to meet her so you could size her up?”
Sheryl glanced at him sharply. “And what if I did? I may have been wrong about Molly being your child, but I still can’t say I trust Jordan. Besides, you’re in a vulnerable state right now, barely divorced. You have to know that jumping back into a relationship with an old flame is a bad idea.”
“I’m touched by your concern,” Clay said, the playfulness leaving his voice, “but I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself.”
She frowned, assessing him with a probing gaze. “I know that. It’s just that you can’t be objective in this situation. I remember how crushed you were when she broke off your engagement. I don’t ever want to see you go through that again.”
“You know it wasn’t quite as simple as that. Anyway, Jordan’s on the heels of her own divorce. She made it clear she’s in no hurry to get involved with me or anyone else. So you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Sheryl’s eyebrows rose higher. “So you’ve discussed it?”
Clay gave her a hard look, refusing to answer the question. “Come on, the girls are waiting for cake.” As he reached for the bottle of red wine on the counter to refill Jordan’s glass, Sheryl gave up the argument and resumed her work, and in a few minutes had the cake fully decorated with Alice’s name surrounded by bright sprinkles and rosebuds.
Clay followed as Sheryl carried the cake out to the girls, starting them on a chorus of “Happy Birthday”. He approached Jordan, handing over her wine.
“Thank you,” she said, before joining the singing. They exchanged a smile, and then she glanced away.
Though they’d been enjoying a pleasant conversation, Jordan’s discomfort was still apparent. It didn’t surprise Clay; he’d come on so strongly the last time they saw each other, he was amazed she’d agreed to spend the weekend with him and his family, even with Sheryl’s persuasion. In the cold light of day, his actions from that evening seemed irrational and audacious. Yet at the time, it had felt so natural being with Jordan again that it hadn’t occurred to him not to act on his feelings. He had the same sense of comfort with her as he did at home with his family; at the same time, the spark that had so easily reignited between them had caught him off guard, quickly consuming him. He’d been unable to resist the impulse to touch and hold her again, and to open his heart to her, and consequently he’d sent her into a panic for which he frankly couldn’t blame her.