Past, Present And A Future. Janice Carter

end up with any one of them.”

      Thinking of just such a guy, Clare averted her gaze from Alix to the table. She waited for the usual uneasiness that accompanied thoughts of Gil Harper to surface but when nothing happened, she raised her head with an almost audible sigh of relief.

      “You okay? Thought I’d lost you there for a sec.”

      “Must be the champagne,” Clare said. “I’m not used to drinking at lunch.”

      “Hey, you’d better get used to it. I see lots of celebrations ahead in your future.”

      “Book sales will be good enough for me, believe me. All of this,” she gestured toward the plush interior of the Plaza, “is wonderful but not really my thing.”

      “Not really mine either, frankly.” Alix put a chunk of artichoke into her mouth. “So we should enjoy while the boss is paying.”

      Clare followed suit, though her appetite had waned at the unbidden memory of Gil Harper. She tried to concentrate on Alix’s patter of conversation, but her mind kept going back to the man responsible for her self-imposed exile from Twin Falls. Giving up, Clare pushed her half-eaten salad aside.

      “I just had a brilliant idea,” Alix piped up as the waiter began to remove their plates.

      “What?”

      “The book tour’s supposed to start in a couple of weeks, right?”

      Clare nodded.

      “And you said this friend who wants you to be godmother still lives in your hometown?”

      Another nod, accompanied by a rising dread.

      “So how about an appearance right in Twin Falls? I mean, the symbolism’s perfect. A coming-of-age book based on your life in Twin Falls—”

      “Loosely based,” Clare emphasized.

      Alix shrugged. “Whatever. But I bet you’re not fooling anyone back home with name changes and a bit of reconstruction.”

      Clare fiddled with the cutlery in front of her. “Perhaps not, but I didn’t intend to market the book as a memoir. It’s a novel. Fiction,” she added, reinforcing her argument.

      “Doesn’t matter. It’s the whole human interest angle I like. Small town girl—okay, woman—makes it big writing a novel based loosely on her life in said small town. Having a book signing and interviews with local media from say, the town’s quaint bookstore—”

      “There is no bookstore in Twin Falls. At least, there wasn’t one seventeen years ago.”

      “Hey, things change. If no bookstore, they’ve got to have a public library. Right?”

      “I’m not—” Clare hesitated. She and Alix had a friendly relationship, but they were not friends and definitely not confidantes. How could she adequately explain her reluctance to go along with such an unthinkable scheme without spilling her guts about the event that had wreaked havoc with so many lives so long ago?

      “What?”

      “Hmm?”

      “You started to say something. Sorry, you know me. I get carried away.”

      “It’s just that, I’m not sure if I’m going to take Laura up on her offer of being godmother. It’s…it’s a big commitment.” The excuse, lame to her own ears, left Alix’s mouth slightly agape.

      “Seriously? But isn’t she one of your best friends?”

      The arrival of the waiter with their main courses gave Clare a few seconds to put together an explanation that would save her from appearing too coldhearted. When he left, she said, “I guess I’m anxious about confronting some people. You know—people who might be offended by certain parts of the book.”

      “But as you said, it’s fiction, right?”

      Clare didn’t know which bothered her more: Alix’s annoying habit of using the word right constantly or her pushiness. But she did know she wanted the lunch to end as pleasantly—and as quickly—as possible. “I’ll give it some thought,” she demurred and fixed her attention on her pasta.

      After a slight pause, Alix picked up her own fork. “I have to pass it through marketing anyway, but think about it.”

      TWO WEEKS LATER, Clare’s fears were realized. Driving out of New York City in her rental car, she couldn’t help but wonder what quirk of fate had plunked her on this inextricable path to her past.

      First there had been the tense phone call with Laura, who saw through Clare’s reservations about being godmother immediately. “Don’t pretend you’re too far away to take on the responsibilities of being a godmother to Emma when you and I both know what this is all about,” she’d said.

      And when Clare had protested otherwise, Laura merely suggested it was time Clare put the past behind her. “All the clichés apply, Clare baby. Face up to it and get over it. Everyone here’s talking about your book. It’s only for a few days and it’d be so great to see you again.”

      Guilt had won out in the end. Laura and Dave were her only remaining friends from Twin Falls and she knew she couldn’t afford to lose them. The christening and the start of the book tour had synchronized with minor adjustments and Clare had had no credible reason—short of feigning insanity or some terminal illness—not to go.

      And yet once out on the highway, she actually began to enjoy the drive. It was a perfect autumn day in mid-October—a brilliant blue sky teamed with a harvest-gold sun and there was just the slightest crispness in the air. As she headed northeast toward Connecticut, the scenery turned postcard perfect with splashes of color set against dark green pines on the distant hills.

      Clare had left early, hoping to arrive in Twin Falls shortly before dinner. Emma’s christening was set for Sunday morning, so she’d have tonight to visit with Laura and Dave before the book signing Saturday afternoon in—to Clare’s surprise—the town’s bookstore, Novel Idea. The rest of Sunday she was free to do as she pleased. The next signing wasn’t until Monday in Hartford, a mere one-hour drive away.

      There had been some disagreement about where she would stay. Laura finally agreed that the local hotel was acceptable given that Clare’s publisher was footing the bill.

      “Probably for the best,” Laura had said with an emphatic sigh. “One of us might as well get some sleep.”

      “How’s she doing?”

      Another sigh. “Emma’s doing great. Dave and I are the ones slogging around in a zombielike state.”

      Clare had made the expected sounds of sympathy, then remembered to ask, “Who’s the godfather?”

      There’d been the slightest pause before Laura mumbled something about Dave not having yet made a decision.

      “Dave?”

      “We thought it was only fair if I picked the godmother, he should get to choose the godfather. But you know Dave.”

      “Still having trouble making up his mind?”

      “Tell me about it.”

      They’d laughed together and for a few moments Clare was transported to the old days when she and Laura had shared confidences as well as laughter. When she’d hung up, she realized that due to the isolation induced from finishing her book, it had been a long time since she’d had a giggle with anyone.

      Clare popped in a Tori Amos CD and let her mind slip into auto-drive. She’d spent the past two weeks in an increasingly heightened state of anxiety about the visit to Twin Falls. Once the decision to go had finally been made, she had tried to ease her jitters by reminding herself that Gil Harper had left town long before she had and she wasn’t likely to bump into him at the local convenience store.

      The music kept her free of the past until the first familiar landmarks