Once and Again. Brenda Harlen

you be telling him to close his eyes and get some sleep?”

      Her friend managed a smile. “Yeah, I probably would.” She toyed with a slice of red pepper. “Or maybe not. Right now I’d be so thrilled, I’d let him stay up until midnight if he wanted.”

      She closed her eyes for a moment, as if imagining the happy event. Then her eyes flew open. “I’m a horrible mother. I didn’t even ask about Jake and Katie, if they had dinner.”

      “You’re a wonderful mother,” Jess said. “And they were ordering pizza when I left.”

      “I feel like I’m falling down on the job, but I can’t seem to think about anyone but Caleb right now.”

      “They understand why you need to be here. And they seem pretty self-sufficient anyway.”

      “Yeah, they are that.” There was pride, and a hint of sadness, in her voice.

      “Since they obviously don’t need a babysitter,” Jess continued, “I was wondering if there was some other way I could help you out, something I could do for you.”

      “That isn’t necessary.”

      “I want to help, Kristin.”

      “Why?”

      “Because I hope being here now can somehow make up for neglecting our friendship for so many years.”

      Kristin was quiet for a moment. “I sometimes wondered if you were too busy to realize you were neglecting it.”

      “No,” Jess admitted. “I knew.”

      Kristin nodded.

      “I’m sorry—for so many things.”

      She set her plate aside. “Some of my earliest and happiest memories are of times we spent together. When you moved to New York, I didn’t worry that we’d drift apart because I believed we were too close to ever let anything come between us.

      “But eighteen years is a long time, and a handful of visits and occasional phone calls aren’t enough to sustain the kind of connection we once shared.”

      “I know,” Jess agreed.

      “I missed you,” Kristin said softly. “For a long time, I missed you. And then, somewhere along the line, I got used to you being gone.”

      She could only nod, her throat too tight to speak. It was her own fault, Jess knew that. She’d made the choice to decline Kristin’s invitations to come home. She’d had her reasons, of course, but eighteen years ago those reasons had been too painful to share with anyone, even her best friend.

      Now she thought she could probably talk about it and not fall to pieces. Maybe. But now wasn’t about making excuses and explanations for what had happened so many years before. Now was about being here for Kristin, if she would let her.

      “I really want to stay mad at you,” Kristin said, “but I just don’t have the energy right now.”

      It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a start.

      “Do you really want to help?”

      “Of course,” Jess said quickly.

      Her friend hesitated, as if reluctant to ask anything of her, as if she expected her to refuse.

      “For the past few months I’ve been working in Nick’s office, just a few hours a day, answering phones and filing orders.”

      Uh-oh. Like a runaway train, Jess could see where this was going but had no idea how to stop it. She could only brace herself and wait for the inevitable collision.

      “Obviously I won’t be able to be there for the next couple of days, and I hate to leave him in the lurch.”

      “I, uh, I really don’t have any experience with that kind of work.”

      “Of course,” Kristin said coolly. “You’d have a secretary of your own for such things.”

      Jess sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

      “What did you mean?”

      “Just that Nick might prefer to hire someone from a temp agency—someone who would know what they were doing.”

      “He tried that when his secretary went off on maternity leave, but the agency has a policy against sending staff to residential premises. That’s why I’ve been helping him out.”

      “I don’t know,” Jess said uneasily.

      “It’s not rocket science, Jessica. I’m sure someone with two college degrees can figure it out.”

      It was a challenge, and probably the last opportunity Kristin would be willing to give her to make amends. As much as Jess wanted to limit her interactions with Nick, she couldn’t refuse her friend’s request.

      “Then I’ll try to figure it out.”

      It was almost nine-thirty when Jessica left the hospital. Despite the circumstances of her visit, she’d enjoyed sitting and talking with Kristin. Their conversation had been a little strained, but not nearly as uncomfortable as she’d expected given the tension she’d felt between them earlier that day. At least, not until Kristin had maneuvered Jess into helping out in Nick’s office.

      It wasn’t that she had any objection to the type of work—it was the idea of being close to Nick that made her uneasy. In fact, everything about Nick made her uneasy. She didn’t want to believe that she still had unresolved feelings for him—not after so many years had passed.

      But even hours after their confrontation earlier that day, she was still unsettled. She decided to walk off her restless energy.

      She set out without any particular destination in mind, yet when she found herself following the well-worn path through the trees at the back of Kristin and Brian’s property, she’d known it was inevitable that she’d end up here. The pull of the memories was simply too strong to resist.

      The wrought-iron bench on the bank of the creek had been there for as long as she could remember. She ran a hand over the curved back, the metal cool and smooth beneath her palm. She lowered herself onto the seat, folded her knees against her chest, wrapped her arms around them. Then she tipped her head back to look at the sky and finally let herself remember.

      She’d charmed an unopened bottle of champagne out of the bartender and slipped through the back of the tent into the darkness. It was only after she’d made her way down to the creek that Jess realized she’d forgotten a glass. She decided it didn’t matter—she could just as easily drink a toast to her best friend without one.

      It was harder than she’d anticipated to work the cork out of the bottle, but at last it gave way with a satisfying “pop.” She heard a slight rustle of leaves as it sailed into the trees, and was grateful there had been no witnesses to her struggling ineptitude. There was no one around at all—the bride and groom had gone long ago, the rest of the guests shortly after.

      But Jess wasn’t ready to go home. Not yet.

      She stood on the edge of the mossy bank, under the light of the moon and the stars, and took a sip of champagne directly from the bottle. The bubbles danced on her tongue, tickled her throat. She’d decided, after the single glass she’d had with dinner, that she quite liked champagne and didn’t understand why it was typically reserved for special occasions.

      She took another sip and tried to remember how many times she’d sat in this very spot with her best friend, sharing hopes and dreams for their future. But with Kristin and Brian’s wedding, their lives had taken different directions, and the realization made Jessica’s heart sigh. Even as she was looking forward to new opportunities, she couldn’t help but mourn the childhood she was leaving behind.

      She heard another rustling in the leaves, and her heart skipped a beat before it started pumping again, just a little stronger and faster than before. Because she knew, even