Making a Comeback (31 page)

Her mom called her dad. “Is Liz up?…Yes, we’re headed back.” She started the car. “You need to talk to her. Please tell her how you feel, Jacqueline.”

Could she? Was she that brave? “I don’t deserve her even if she—”

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“The accident, Mom.”

“Was an accident. No more blaming yourself. No more guilt. No more hiding. You forget how much beauty you’ve given the world through music. You deserve to be happy. You deserve love.”

When they arrived home, her mom walked her to the deck. “We’ll give you privacy, but know we’re here for you.”

Liz was packing. Jac waited on the deck, fighting the ache in her chest. Dare she hope last night had meant something to Liz?

Liz came up from a deep sleep and rolled onto her back. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept this well. She stretched. Her abs were sore. And her thighs. Oh, yeah, snorkeling three days in a row. Her eyes popped open and dread spread over her like cold rain, making her shiver. She was naked. This wasn’t the guest bedroom. Jac. Last night.

No, no, no, no, no pounded through her like a bass-drum beat. She yanked the sheet up to her chin and clenched it to stop the trembling. The deck…kissing Jac…putting Jac’s hand on…Oh, God. No, no, no. She squeezed her eyes shut, but that didn’t prevent images from galloping across her mind. She jerked to a sit, hugging herself to fight back nausea. She’d forced herself on Jac. And Jac…her head spun. Passionate kisses. Jac touching her everywhere. Tender. Giving. Responding to her need. Giving her the relief she pleaded for. Her skin burned with the memories. Mind-blowing orgasms. Again and again.

They had made love. No. Jac had made love to her. Liz frowned. She’d tried to touch Jac…Heat burst on her cheeks. Jac hadn’t wanted her to touch her. “I can’t,” she’d said, holding Liz’s hands away from her. Oh, God, this wasn’t happening. A strangled sob filled her throat.

Teri. She clasped her hands to her mouth. Yanked them away. They smelled like Jac. She felt like she was coming apart and couldn’t breathe. She’d cheated on Teri. She’d taken advantage of Jac. She bolted from the bed as guilt and shame surrounded her. She needed to get out of here.

Her clothes were folded at the foot of the bed. More heat on her cheeks. When had Jac left? She dressed and hurried to the guest bedroom. She dialed Hannah’s cell. It went to voice mail. Her hands trembled as she tried to find the number to the Hyatt. When she reached the registration desk, the clerk said no one by that name was registered. Panic gripped her. Had Hannah checked out? No. The room must be in Kerri’s name. She started to call back, but she didn’t know Kerri’s last name and wasn’t up to trying to explain it to the clerk.

Liz paced, twirling her wedding band and taking deep breaths until she was calm enough. She’d apologize to Jac and call a cab to take her to the Hyatt. She’d wait for Hannah. She’d get her seat on the flight changed. She stood in the hallway listening for voices. She heard Vivaldi’s
Four Seasons
and then the sound of someone turning a newspaper page. That wouldn’t be Jac. She straightened her blouse. Setting a smile on her face, she walked to the dining room.

“Good morning.” Jac’s dad was wearing a black Tommy Bahama shirt with white flowers. He set the newspaper aside and looked at her.

“Where’s…” She cleared her throat. “Where’s Jac?” she asked in a voice that came out too high.

“She and her mom went for a drive.”

Liz gripped the back of the chair as her legs became jelly. Jac had left. What must she think of her? “Um, I need to call a cab. What’s your address?”

“I assume you want to go to the Hyatt?”

“Yes,” she said without looking at him, sure her face was many shades redder than the rest of her sunburned skin.

“I’ll drive you when you’re ready.”

Oh, God, he knows. She hurried to the bedroom and bundled her things into the suitcase. Matching suitcases they’d bought for the band tour. Tears blurred her vision. Guilt slithered through her. “I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she whispered.

The wind chimes were on the dresser. Taking them out of the box, she clutched them against her chest. Thoughtful. Jac was always thoughtful. She’d taken advantage of her in the worst way. God, the music last night. Jac’s playing had ripped her open, changed her until she didn’t know who she was. She wasn’t someone who seduced her best friend. Or cheated on her wife.

Liz set her bags by the front door and went to the dining room. “I’m ready—” She gasped and put her hand to her chest. Her fingers closed around the pendant. Jac. Sitting alone on the deck. Her knees went weak and she collapsed onto the nearest chair.

Jac tilted her head and her shoulders stiffened.

She always knows where I am
. Tears flooded Liz’s eyes and she had no Kleenex. She wiped them away with the hem of her T-shirt as she walked slowly to the patio table and sat across from Jac. She had on the fuschia blouse she’d worn last night. Wrinkled.

“I’m so sorry.” It was so true and such a ridiculous thing to say. Liz wanted it to be yesterday morning, with all of them eating pineapple fritters. She wanted to go back to last night and make a different choice. Stay in her room. She’d lost control in the worst way. The way that hurt people.

“It’s been a hard time for you.” Jac’s voice was like the hug she craved, but her face was tight.

“I’m so sorry I used you.” The sun was warm, and the ocean was blue, and palm trees swayed. Another perfect day in paradise. Except she’d ruined paradise. How did they go on from here?

*

Jac gripped the armrests, squeezing to keep herself together, squeezing to block the pain of her heart breaking.
Used her
. A stand-in for Teri. It was hard to breathe. She wasn’t going to hear the voice she loved say the words she wanted to hear—“I love you.” That’s what last night had been for her, but for Liz it was reaching back for what she’d lost.

“There’s no excuse.” Sadness in Liz’s voice. Then sniffling. Crying.

Why had she let it get out of control? She could have said something to stop it, something that would have let them sit here this morning with a little awkwardness, but not this chasm between them. She hadn’t stopped it because she hadn’t wanted to. It was too easy to fall into Liz’s need, to let it give her the excuse to take what she wanted. To let it mean something it didn’t. To pretend Liz was hers.

“I took advantage of your friendship in the worst way. I’m so ashamed.”

No, she wasn’t going to hear the words she longed to hear. Her throat tightened and she fought tears. She would not cry. “We’re friends, Liz. We’ve weathered a lot together. We’ll get through this.” Friendship. If that was all she could have, she’d make it be enough.

“Okay. Yeah.” Liz’s voice softened. “We’ll laugh about the vacation fling.” Another sniffle.

Jac’s heart caved in on itself. Is that what this would be? Like it didn’t matter? “I love you,” she wanted to sing out.

“It hurts so much. I’m not someone who…I don’t…” A chair scraped on the deck. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.” Liz’s footsteps across the deck, across the bamboo floor of the house, then the front door opening.

Jac focused on Vivaldi’s
Four Seasons
. Clung to it. Concerto No. 4 in F Minor
—
“Winter.” The door opened again. Liz? Was she coming back? They were friends. Of course she wouldn’t leave it like this. A hand squeezed her shoulder and she grabbed it. The wrong ring. Her mom. She felt like she’d been punched as she let the tears flood down her cheeks.

“Did Jacqueline tell you how she started with the trumpet?” Frank asked when they were on the highway headed to the Hyatt.

“No.” Liz picked at the hem of her T-shirt, focusing on the ocean as her feelings shifted like the current—confusion, then regret, then guilt, then immense sadness, before cycling again.

“I was in a band, and we rehearsed in the studio Peggy uses for her painting. Jacqueline would sit in the doorway and listen to us. She was so serious.” He paused and then cleared his throat.“One day we were up at the house getting snacks when I heard someone playing the trumpet. I made a joke about Wayne, our trumpet player, never leaving well enough alone. Well, Wayne was standing next to me. We went down to the studio. It was Jacqueline. She could barely hold it, but she had a look on her face like nothing I’ve ever seen. She was in love with that instrument. I bought her a trumpet the next day.”

Liz had no idea what to say. Jac was special? She knew that. Jac deserved better than a friend who took advantage of her in a way she shouldn’t have?

“We’ll be at Monterey.”

Her heart skipped. Monterey. Would Jac still want to perform with them? Could she play with Jac? “Thank you for having me,” Liz said when Frank pulled up to the Hyatt. “Is Jac going to meet us at the airport?”

“I imagine so.” Frank took Liz’s bags into the hotel. “I like you, Liz. You’ve been good for Jacqueline. I hope you keep being good for her.” He gave her a quick hug and walked out.

“I need to find my sister,” Liz said to the clerk at the registration counter, hanging on to what little control she had. “I think her room’s under…she’s with an assistant manager named Kerri.” She swiped away tears.

“Have a seat and I’ll find her,” the clerk said kindly.

Liz sat on the nearest chair and tucked her hands between her knees, looking toward the lobby with its tropical ambience. The vacation she’d always wanted.

“Lizzie?”

She launched herself into Hannah’s arms. “Oh, God, I did something awful.”

“Come up to the room,” Hannah said.

“I don’t want to see Kerri.”

“She went to work.” Hannah put her arm around Liz’s waist and walked her to the elevator.

When they were in the room, Liz sank onto one of the chairs. The bed was a mess, and clothes were strewn everywhere, and she’d never been happier to be with her sister.

“Talk.” Hannah sat across from her.

“I slept with Jac,” she said in one long exhale.

“Good for you.” Hannah’s voice was too bright.

Liz clasped her hands. “I seduced her,” she said in a voice as small as she felt. “What am I going to do?”

“Celebrate.”

“No, not the good kind of seduced. I forced myself on her.” She hugged herself and rocked. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Maybe she let you.”

“What?”

“Maybe Jac let you seduce her.”

“Trust me, she didn’t.” Jac pushing on her waist. Jac refusing to let her touch her. Jac saying, “Let me give you this.” Why hadn’t any of that mattered last night? She felt on the verge of collapse under the truth of what she’d done. “Can you please be understanding?”

“Yes, but I won’t tell you what you want to hear.” Hannah went to the bathroom and came back with Kleenex. “You let yourself feel. You acted on it. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Teri deserves better than a wife who seduces another woman.”

“Teri’s not here, Lizzie.”

“I wanted Jac. I don’t understand.” She fingered the musical note on the end of the chain around her neck. “I still love Teri, but I wanted Jac.” Love and desire had always had a single point of intersection—Teri. Now they were two forces pulling her apart. She let go of the pendant and pinched her wedding band. Love for Teri that would forever be trapped in the past. Desire for Jac that had demolished the boundaries of friendship.

“Your ability to feel love and passion doesn’t stop because Teri’s no longer the focus for those feelings. You don’t betray her by letting yourself feel again. You do betray yourself if you don’t.”

“Not this. I can’t feel this.” She fell against Hannah as images of last night barraged her. “Not this.”

*

Liz stood on the curb in front of the airport while Hannah said good-bye to Kerri with a few words and a very long kiss. She didn’t see Jac. As they walked to the gate she kept thinking about the conversation with the groundskeeper at the Hyatt. She’d gone down to the lobby while Hannah packed. She’d wandered to the pond where he was feeding the swans.

“They’re beautiful,” Liz said, watching them gobble up the food. “I love that they mate for life.”

“Yeah, most people believe that. The male’s got a scar on his belly from a fight.” He tossed out another handful of food. “That female left her mate for him, and there was quite a tussle over her.”

She’d sat on a bench after the groundskeeper left, watching the swans float lazily, occasionally nuzzling each other. Everything she’d thought she knew about love now seemed suspect. She’d fallen in love so young, like her grandma, like her dad, like Kevin. She’d assumed it would last a lifetime. It hadn’t. And then Jac…She tightened her grip on the luggage handle as they walked toward the gate. She still didn’t see Jac.

“Best vacation ever?” Hannah asked when they’d taken seats in the waiting area.

“Yeah.” She smiled when Hannah looked at her. The vacation had been a thoughtful gesture she’d always remember.

“I put a deposit on a place in the city last week.”

Probably for the best since Liz wouldn’t be going to Carmel anymore.

“It’s time I got on with my life. My new job is the first step toward rebuilding my career.”

“Just don’t let your libido sink it.” The airport looked the same as it had on Friday, but nothing was the same.

“That’s not what happened.”

“Your boss finds you in bed with his wife and—”

“I loved her.” Hannah’s voice was sharp.

“You said it was a fling.”

“You all assumed that. Do you really think I’d be careless enough to blow up a career I spent fifteen years building?”

“So what happened?” Liz kept glancing toward the corridor but didn’t see Jac. What would she say to her?

“She was practically a prisoner in the hotel while her womanizing, jerk-off husband came and went as he pleased. Arranged marriage.” Hannah crossed her arms, looking off in the distance. “I started cooking her special meals to cheer her up. We talked, became friends. Then it became more. She was trying to divorce him. He caught wind of it, set us up to get caught, and trashed my career.” She shrugged one shoulder.