The Heart Remembers Page 15

  Howard forked a bite of meatloaf. “What’s his problem?”

  “I wish I knew. I checked his transcripts, and he’s gotten good grades in the past. But he’s only doing the bare minimum to survive in my class—and in his other classes, as well. He’s sullen and withdrawn and just itching for a fight. We had a confrontation after class today, as a matter of fact. I told him I expected more, and essentially he said that as long as he turned in the assignments it wasn’t any of my business how well he did. That I should just grade his papers and buzz off.”

  “Sounds like somebody needs to give that boy a good talking-to.”

  “You’re right. But he doesn’t let anybody get close enough. Whenever I see him he’s alone.”

  “Well, I’m not surprised, with that kind of attitude.”

  “The thing is, Dad, he has a sort of…hopeless…look in his eyes.” Jake furrowed his brow. “Like he’s worried and scared and…I don’t know. I just sense there’s something wrong. I’d like to reach out to him, try to help, but I don’t know how.” He expelled a frustrated breath.

  Howard stopped eating and peered across the table at Jake, as if surprised by his son’s admission. There was a moment of silence, and when he spoke, his voice was cautious.

  “Sounds like something’s on his mind, all right. Probably could use a sympathetic ear. But you’re a stranger, Jake. It’s pretty hard to trust a stranger, especially one who’s an authority figure.”

  “Yeah. I suppose so.”

  “You know, going away to school can be a scary thing. That could be part of it. But it sounds to me like maybe something’s going on at home, too. Something that’s tearing him up inside. Lots of times people get belligerent when they’re faced with a situation that scares them, more so if it’s something they can’t control.”

  Jake wondered if his father realized that insight might apply in his own case, but as the older man buttered a piece of bread, his focus was clearly in the past.

  “I remember one time when Rob was in sixth grade, the teacher called us up and said he was picking fights. Well, you know that wasn’t like Rob at all. So I took him out to the woods the next weekend to help me chop some logs. Just the two of us. Your mother packed a nice lunch, hot chocolate and sandwiches, and while we were eating I started to ask about school, casual-like, and how things were going. Just kind of opened the lines of communication, I think they call it these days. Anyway, ’fore we left, I found out Rob was scared to death your mother was sick. Overheard us talking about the Nelsons, but misunderstood and thought it was your mom who had to have surgery. Amazing how things improved once he got that worry off his mind.”

  Jake stared at his father. “I never knew anything about that.”

  Howard shrugged. “No reason for you to. Anyhow, might not be a bad idea, if you really want to find out what’s going on with this boy, to take him out for a cup of coffee or something. Let him know you’re willing to listen, away from the classroom. More as a friend than a teacher—you know what I mean? Sounds like he could use a friend.”

  Score another hit for Maggie. Not only did the older man have some excellent insights, but he’d been more than willing to share them.

  “That sounds like good advice, Dad. Thanks. I’ll give it a try.”

  The older man gave what appeared to be an indifferent shrug, but Jake knew his father was flattered.

  “Might not work. But it couldn’t hurt to try.” Howard rose and began clearing the table. “How about some apple pie? Can’t say I baked it myself, but you’ll probably be just as happy I didn’t.”

  Astonished, Jake watched his father. This was the first time in years he had shown Jake any humor. Could a gesture as simple as a mere request for advice make such a difference?

  Apparently it could. Because as Howard deposited the dishes in the sink and prepared to cut the pie, something else astonishing happened.

  For the first time in years, Jake heard his father whistle.

  Maggie glanced at her watch for the tenth time in fewer minutes and told herself to calm down. Just because Jake was coming over was no reason for her nerves to go haywire. Unfortunately, her nerves weren’t listening to reason.

  She sat in the porch swing, hoping its gentle, rhythmic motion would calm her jitters. She was certain that Jake wanted to pick up where they’d left off the night of her birthday, and she was afraid. Afraid that by allowing their relationship to progress, she was exposing her heart to danger. But she still cared for him. To deny it was useless. She still found him attractive, still responded to his touch. But more than that, she still felt as she had so many years ago—that Jake and no one else was meant to be her husband. In fact, she felt it even more strongly now than before. Which seemed odd, after all they’d been through.

  The crunch of tires on gravel interrupted her thoughts, and her heartbeat quickened as her gaze flew to the small parking lot. She recognized the small, sensible car Jake had purchased—a far cry from the impractical sporty number he used to crave—and watched as he unfolded his long frame and stood gazing out to sea, his strong profile thrown into sharp relief by the setting sun. He stayed there, motionless, for a long moment, seeming to savor the scene. It was a lovely view, and Maggie herself had often paused to admire it. But it was not something Jake would have appreciated—or even noticed—a dozen years ago. It was just one of the many things about him that had changed.

  And yet, at least one thing had stayed the same. He was every bit as handsome as he’d always been—tall, confident in bearing, with an easy, heart-melting smile that could still turn her legs to rubber. He was the kind of man who would stand out in any gathering—and who could have had his pick of women through the years.

  And yet…he’d never married. Had even implied that she was the reason for his single status. Maggie wanted to believe that was true, wanted to think that the love he’d once felt for her had endured—just as hers had for him.

  At the same time, she wasn’t a starry-eyed sixteen-year-old anymore. She was an adult who knew better than to let her emotions rule her life. She was determined to approach the situation with logic and as objectively as she could. It was true that everything she’d seen since he’d returned indicated that Jake had matured, that he was now a man who understood the concept of honor and responsibility, who could be counted on in good times and bad. And Maggie wanted to believe the evidence that was accumulating in his favor. But only time would tell if the changes were real—and lasting.

  He didn’t notice her in the shadows, so as he reached to press the bell she spoke.

  “Hello, Jake.”

  He turned toward the porch swing—and took a few seconds to enjoy the view. Maggie’s shapely legs, covered in khaki slacks, were tucked under her, and she’d thrown a green sweater over her shoulders to ward off the evening chill. In the fading light, her flame-colored hair took on a life of its own. She wore it down tonight, as he preferred, and it framed her porcelain complexion in flattering waves. Right now, at this moment, she looked no older than she had that summer twenty-one years before, on the day of their eventful bike ride. And she made him feel exactly as he had on that same memorable, long-ago day—breathless, eager and deeply stirred. But he wasn’t a seventeen-year-old anymore, he reminded himself. Even if he did feel like one. Control was the operative word here.

  “Hi.” The deep, husky timbre of his voice wasn’t something he could control, however. And it wasn’t lost on Maggie, judging by the sudden bloom on her cheeks.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  He shook his head. “No, thanks. Why don’t we just sit out here for a while?”

  “Okay.” She lowered her feet to the floor and scooted over to make room for him. The swing creaked in protest as he sat down, and he turned to her with a grin.

  “Are you sure this is safe?” He draped an arm across the back of the swing and gently brushed his fingers over her shoulder.

  “No.” She eyed his arm.

  He chu
ckled. “I’ve missed you.”

  “You just saw me at the fair.”

  “That was four days ago. And besides, there were too many people around.”

  The corners of her mouth tipped up. “That didn’t stop you from…” She arched an eyebrow.

  “Kissing you? No, as a matter of fact it didn’t. It could easily become a habit. But I have to admit I prefer more privacy. Take this spot, for instance. I think the twins had the right idea on your birthday. It’s very romantic here.” He cupped her chin in his hand and let his gaze caress her face.

  Big mistake. His control wavered.

  Jake tried to resist. Reminded himself to move slowly. He needed to reach deep into his reserves of discipline and simply back off.

  She let out a soft sigh.

  His control dissolved.

  With a sigh of capitulation, Jake gave up the fight and leaned down to claim the lips of the woman he loved. His intention was to keep the kiss simple and swift. Make it long enough to let her know he cared and had missed her, but short enough not to make her nervous.

  But somehow it didn’t turn out that way.

  Because from the moment their lips met, Jake was overwhelmed by a sense of urgency that took his breath away. Maggie felt so good in his arms, so right, as if she belonged there for always. He framed her delicate face with his hands, and the initial gentle, tentative touching of lips escalated to an embrace that spoke of love and longing, reflecting twelve long years of parched emotions.

  What surprised Jake more than his unexpected loss of control was Maggie’s acquiescence. He had felt her tense at first, as if taken aback by the intensity of his embrace, but within seconds she was returning his kiss with a passion that equaled his own. Without breaking contact with her lips, he shifted their positions so that she was cradled in his arms. She sighed softly, and he continued to kiss her.

  How had he lived without her sweet love to sustain him all these years? Now that he’d found her again, he couldn’t imagine a future without her.

  When at last Jake reluctantly released her lips, she lay in his arms, staring up at him with a slightly dazed expression that he suspected mirrored his own. Gently he brushed a few errant tendrils of hair back from her face. She started to reach up, as if to touch his cheek, then dropped her hand.

  “Why did you stop?” He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers, then pressed it against his cheek.

  She tugged her hand free, then shifted herself to the other side of the swing. Keeping her head averted, she ran her fingers through the tangled waves of her hair, trying to restore it to order.

  “Jake…I think that…well, I think it’s obvious that we’re still…attracted to each other on the…on the physical level. But there are other levels that are equally important—if not more important. I—I need to focus on those, but I can’t even think straight when you…when I’m…when we’re close.” She stopped. Took a deep breath. “And there are issues we need to deal with—I need to deal with—things I still need to work through. I don’t want to lose sight of those.”

  That wasn’t exactly what Jake wanted to hear, but he saw her point. All of the other realities of his life—and their relationship—got pretty fuzzy for him, too, when they kissed.

  “So…no more kissing—is that what you’re saying?” He tried for a teasing tone but didn’t quite pull it off.

  “No, of course not. It’s just that…well, I think we need to keep it in perspective, that’s all.”

  He wondered if she had any idea just what she was asking. Maintaining his perspective—let alone his equilibrium—around Maggie was almost impossible. But if that’s what she wanted, he’d give it his best shot.

  With a crooked grin, he draped his arm casually around her shoulders, though he felt anything but casual. “How about the old arm around the shoulder? Is that out of bounds, too?”

  “No.” She snuggled close and pulled her legs up beside her as Jake set the swing rocking with a push of his toe.

  It was sweet agony to have her cuddled so close, but he’d get through this. He had to.

  He was grateful when Maggie switched the focus.

  “Your dad seemed pleased about the fair Sunday.”

  “He was. He spent the rest of the afternoon making a list of supplies. I drove him over to Bangor to pick up everything yesterday. He’s happy as a clam—or should I say lobster, here in Maine?—now that he’s got a project. I have to practically force him to stop every night. You were right about him needing to have something to do that would make him feel worthwhile. And you were right about something else, too.”

  She turned to look up at him. “What?”

  “Your idea to talk to Dad about school. I tried it Monday night. I think he was a little shocked, but he did open up. And offered some pretty good advice along the way, I might add. Thanks to him, I think I’m finally starting to connect with one of my problem students.”

  “Really?” Her eyes were bright, her smile warm and genuine. “I’m so glad, Jake! What did he suggest?” She listened as he recapped his father’s suggestion. “And it’s working?”

  “So far. I invited Paul—that’s the student’s name—to meet me in the canteen for coffee yesterday. I wasn’t sure he’d come, but he did. He hasn’t said much yet, but I picked up enough to suspect there was a major trauma of some sort in his life shortly before he left for school. Something to do with his parents, I think. I invited him to meet me again tomorrow between classes, and I’m hoping he’ll come. I’d like to help him through this, whatever it is, if I can.”

  “Did you tell your father?”

  He chuckled. “You’ve heard the phrase, ‘Pleased as punch’?”

  Maggie smiled and settled back against Jake. “That’s good. I’m glad you two are getting along better.”

  “We still have a long way to go.”

  “But at least you’re moving in the right direction.”

  They swung in silence for a few minutes, her head nestled on his shoulder, the muffled night sounds peaceful and soothing. When Jake finally spoke, his voice was close to her ear.

  “It’s good to have you in my arms again, Maggie.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “I know you need some time. And I’m not trying to rush you. But I think you know where I hope this is heading.”

  “Yes. I do. But there are…issues.”

  “You mean beyond the obvious?”

  She knew he was referring to her struggle to overcome lingering doubts about his reliability and honor, but she hadn’t planned to get into a heavy discussion tonight. There was one issue in particular that had to be discussed sooner or later, though, and sooner was probably better from a self-preservation standpoint. Jake wasn’t going to like what she had to say. In fact, he might dislike it enough to reconsider his feelings. But it would be better to know that now, before she got any more involved.

  “Yes. You mentioned once that you wanted a family. The thing is, I’ve already had a family, Jake. I don’t regret a minute of it, but it’s a demanding job, and I’ve spent the last twelve years doing it. So much of my adult life has been spent doing what I had to do. Now I want to focus on the things I want to do for a while. Like go to Europe, pursue my art.” She paused and ran her finger over the crease in her slacks. “I guess that sounds selfish, doesn’t it?”

  “No. Selfish is hardly a word I would use to describe you.”

  She leaned away and looked up at him in the dim light, trying to read his eyes. “Do you understand how I feel?”

  “The truth? It’s not exactly what I wanted to hear. But I do understand.” He stroked her cheek and gave her a rueful smile. “Our timing always seems to be off, doesn’t it? First you were saddled with responsibilities that tied you down. Now you’re free, and I’m saddled with responsibilities that tie me down. And as for a family—it would be different this time, you know. Two people sharing the responsibility for one child is a whole lot easier than one p
erson trying to raise two children.”

  “I can accept that in theory. But life has a way of tearing theories to shreds. And plans can fall apart in the blink of an eye. Our own broken engagement is one example of that. And your presence here in Maine was another. Three years ago, if someone had told you you’d end up being a land-bound teacher, sharing a cottage with your father in rural Maine, I have a feeling you’d have laughed in their face.”

  “I can’t argue with that. Plans do change. So do priorities. Three years ago, I didn’t have all that much interest in starting a family.”

  Meaning he did now.

  Maggie felt a wave of despair sweep over her. Why did the choices have to be so difficult? Twelve years ago, her choice had been a family or Jake. Now it seemed that it might come down to Jake and a family—or no Jake. That thought chilled her, but she saw no way around it. Not unless she gave up her own dreams. And she’d done that once. She couldn’t do it again—not even for Jake.

  “I’m sorry, Jake.” She tugged her sweater tighter as a chill swept over her. “I do understand your desire for a family. It’s a beautiful thing, raising children, watching them develop and grow and become caring, responsible adults. But I—I can’t make any promises. Maybe in a year or two I’ll feel differently, but right now I’m just not ready to even consider it.”

  Jake brushed his fingers up and down her arm, the parallel grooves on his forehead deepening. He’d been so caught up in his rediscovery of Maggie that he really hadn’t thought much about the family issue, though she had alluded to her feelings on the subject a few weeks before. It just hadn’t been something he wanted to deal with at that moment. Or at all, if he was honest. There had been enough barriers already between himself and the woman he loved. Why did life often seem to consist entirely of hurdles and detours?

  Jake sighed. The evening had taken an unexpectedly heavy turn. He still hoped that when her trust level grew, the notion of a family based on shared responsibilities would become more palatable. In the meantime, she needed the space, the freedom, that the twins’ departure had given her. He didn’t begrudge her that. She’d earned it. He wanted her to make that trip to Europe, to see all the places she’d always dreamed of. He only wished he could go with her.