Max frowned and chewed at his bottom lip. “Deal,” he said.
We passed the drinks around and Max perched on the arm of Lindsay’s chair. He bent his head toward her and said something I couldn’t hear, but it made her laugh. For a minute I thought they might be laughing at me. Then Inga called us in to dinner.
While we were eating, Max’s cell phone rang. When he answered it, he looked flustered. He excused himself and left the room.
We were all quiet for an awkward moment.
“Pass the spaghetti, please,” Charlie said.
“I’ll have the garlic bread,” Duke said.
“This is really delicious. Wonderful, Inga,” I called toward the kitchen. I went in to see if she needed any help—or at least I told myself that’s what I was doing. Max was in the kitchen.
“I told you,” he said into the phone, “I won’t be back until after New Year’s. And please don’t call me on this number.” There was a pause while he listened. “Yes, me too.” He looked up at me and put the phone in his pocket.
We looked at each other.
“It doesn’t matter to me what you do,” I said in a low voice, “but you should at least be kind to Lindsay.”
He looked toward Inga, grabbed my upper arm, and pulled me toward the mudroom outside the kitchen. “Not that it has anything to do with you, but if you have to know, it’s old business,” he said. “I’m trying to put an end to it.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me.”
“I know, but for some reason I feel as if I do.” His words were clipped. “Please don’t say anything to Lindsay.”
I looked at the stone floor.
“You must know me better than that—even after all these years,” I said.
He shook his head. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“God,” I said, “I haven’t changed that much.”
“You haven’t really changed at all,” he said in a quiet voice.
I must have changed in some ways if, when he first saw me, he said he wouldn’t have recognized me, but this probably wasn’t the time to bring that up.
“Have you changed, Max?” I asked. I had convinced myself that reports about him were exaggerated, but it looked like he had become the type of man who kept bunches of women like weeds in flowerpots.
“Of course I have. Everyone does.”
“You said I hadn’t.”
“But don’t you see. Most people do. My life is much different now than when you first knew me.”
“Mine isn’t so different.”
“I know that.”
“All change is not necessarily a good thing,” I said.
“You talking about something in particular?”
“You must know your reputation.”
“I don’t read my own press.”
“Now you’re being disingenuous.”
“We should go back.”
I touched his arm. “Max?” He turned toward me.
“Try not to hurt Lindsay.”
“That’s interesting coming from you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Aren’t you the girl who left me a note and crept away like a thief?”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Not really a defense. But don’t worry, I have no intention of hurting Lindsay. In fact, I’m thinking of marrying her.”
I thought I might not be able to get out of the mudroom before my face melted and revealed my feelings, but I had to, because that was one of the things that defined me. I always behaved properly in every situation (maybe I could have done better when I left Max the note), and to behave properly in this one, I’d have to wear a smile as I followed Max back out to the dining room.
“Don’t you think it’s a little soon?” I asked. He wouldn’t catch my eye.
“I never had any trouble figuring out what I wanted. Time was never an issue with me.”
“But it’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“When you know, you know.”
“What if you make a mistake?” I asked.
“Mistakes aren’t the end of the world,” he said. “They don’t kill you.” Finally he looked at me.
“Do me a favor—one I know I have no right to ask—give it a little more time.”
“Ah, Jane, sensible, practical, levelheaded Jane,” he said.
“You used to like that about me.”
“That was before I knew what the consequences would be.” He turned and left the room.
On the way back to the dining room, I stopped in the kitchen to pick up a bowl of extra meatballs. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the rest of the evening, but I pasted a smile on my face and joined the party.
Chapter 21
At midnight when I arrived at the Inn at Long Last, it was like a tomb. I didn’t see anyone at the front desk. I stood there for a moment, then knocked on the counter. A boy came out from a back room.
“Do I have any messages?” I asked. “Jane Fortune.”
He handed over a slip of paper and yawned. I took it and went up to my room.
The paper said, “He’s gone and good riddance. You might find him at the Butterfly Museum. Last time I saw him he was working there. Good luck. Maureen Mackey.” The Butterfly Museum? I sat there staring at the note, then started to laugh. My bad-boy Jack Reilly was at the Butterfly Museum?
The next morning when I arrived at the ski house only Heather and Lindsay were downstairs. Eventually, Winnie joined us. She sat at the head of the table in a blue quilted bathrobe that made her look like she was eighty years old.
“I have the sniffles,” she said, looking sour. “It’s so unfair. I really wanted to go skiing.”
“You don’t seem very sick,” Heather said. “You could still go if you wanted to.” Heather folded a linen napkin into squares and placed it under a fork.
“And get pneumonia? I don’t think so. I really don’t. I’ll just stay here in front of the fire.”
“Lazy cow,” Heather said under her breath.
“What did you say?” Winnie asked.
“Nothing.” Lindsay and Heather gave each other a look.
Max and Charlie came down. Both were freshly shaven and showered. Max smelled faintly of Old Spice.
Because Winnie wasn’t going with us, we were only five and were able to squeeze into one car. I love everything about an early morning on a mountain, from lugging the skis to buying the tickets.
We decided to ski together, which meant that since we were five, one of us wouldn’t have a partner for the chairlift. Everyone protested weakly that they would be happy to be “single,” but in the end I was the one who skied off to the separate line. I was four from the front when I was paired with another skier. In his hat and goggles, I didn’t immediately recognize him. It wasn’t until we had been scooped into the air that he turned toward me.
