Two doors downJohn pulled up the drive of the house where Jack grew up. Hismother still lived there with her guide dog. Last she'd heard hisuncle, a longshoreman, was with her off and on. Kate Lynch was anamazing woman; Rori had always loved her.
Rori piled outof the old truck, nearly bumping into John. He'd rounded the bumperand almost seemed to be reaching to open her door. Flashing him ascowl, she headed for the side-door, knowing Jack's mother would bein the kitchen. She had almost lifted her hand to knock when Jackturned the knob and gave the door a shove with his hip, lettinghimself in.
Well, at leastI know he wasn't lying about becoming close to the family. He knowsthe kitchen door still jams.
The first thingRori noticed was that Kate's guide dog had been replaced. When lastshe had visited, a yellow Labrador named Mazey was getting along inyears. Entering the sunny kitchen, a black lab came tick-tickingacross the floor, tail waving. He went directly to John, shovinghis nose into the big man's hand.
"Hey, Preston!"John gave the dog's head a rough scrubbing.
Rori gaped. Sheknew from growing up around Jack and his mom that guide dogs wereplacid, calm animals. They were trained to focus on their masters.All the dogs Kate had owned through the years had been friendly,but rarely showed this kind of energy and affection toward anyonebut family. Usually they met outsiders with serene politeness,sitting quietly while they accepted attention passively.
This was odd.She glanced at John. He had always been handsome. Strangely, shehad almost resented him for it when they were younger. It didn'tseem fair for someone as unkind as John Preston to be blessed withathletic prowess and physical beauty, too. Rori had always secretlythought his features cold, if classic. Was it her imagination orhad time softened him? Did his blue eyes sparkle more than sheremembered?
"Rori!" KateLynch appeared in the arched opening to the dining room, her armsopen in greeting. Rori closed the space between them in an instantand hugged the older woman fiercely. She smelled of fabric softenerand hand lotion.
Rori loved KateLynch. As a child she had followed Jack around like a lost kitten,waiting for him to see what was naked and raw in her eyes. She knewhis mother was never fooled. Both painfully shy, they had beenfriends since nursery school. As they grew older, Rori felt Jackpull away a little more each year. By the time they graduated fromhigh school Jack seemed uncomfortable with their old friendship.But Rori had never stopped hoping. She'd never stopped looking athim with longing.
Had she failedhim by never declaring her feelings? She believed she had. If she'donly found the courage to tell him, once and for all, she couldhave at least known for certain how he felt. If he didn't share heraffection... well, at least she would not have spent twenty yearswondering.
And now itseemed she might not ever get a second chance.
Blinking awaytears, she drew away from Kate to give her a long, appraising look.Jack's mother looked well. Her hair— always fair— had been gettingthe old-lady-lavender rinse down at the beauty parlor once a weekfor a while. Rori remembered when it was platinum blond, butcouldn't remember it styled in anything but the soft little cap ofcurls she wore now. Kate had become a mother late in life. Rorisupposed the awful purple tint was some kind of rite of passage allwomen in Hammond embraced whether they liked it or not. It camewith the senior citizen's discount.
Glancing acrossthe kitchen to John, Rori was shocked at the soft, tender look onhis face. He was... beautiful. Handsome even as a cruel young man,the face she saw now looking down at Jack's mother was like nothingshe'd ever seen before. It threw her completely off her game.
For thehundredth time that day Rori wondered what was going on betweenJohn, Jack, and Jack's mother. It couldn't possibly be as simple asLydon had stated it.
Or couldit?
"All right, youtwo. Have a seat and tell me what you've been up to."
"But—" Roriglanced at John in surprise, "shouldn't we be getting you to thehospital?"
"Not just yet.I was with Jack last night, and the priest came by. We have time tosit and chat."
For a woman whowas in peril of losing her only child, Kate Lynch was terriblycheerful. Bustling about the kitchen with a surety that had alwaysamazed Rori, she placed a plate on the table, two glassesalong-side it, and poured milk into each glass.
Rori hadn'tdrunk cold milk in ages. Her eyes widened at the pile of Oreocookies Kate dumped onto the plate— Double Stuff! Jack'sfavorite.
"You werealways milk and Oreo children." Jack's mom paused, returning themilk to the frig. "Well, Rori and Jack were. I'm sure you are, too,John."
Lydon had beenuncharacteristically quiet since they'd arrived. He scooped up ahalf-dozen cookies, hunched over them, and began twisting off thetops, then separating them: cookie tops shorn clean, and cookiebottoms with the thick cream still clinging to them. Setting theplain tops to one side, John took the Double Stuff bottoms, mashedthem together, and created Quadruple Stuff hybrid monsters.
He stacked theplain Oreo tops and handed them to Rori without looking up. Shegasped.
John froze, ahugely thick re-assembled Oreo half-way to his lips.
"Where did youlearn to do that?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"What?"
"That."
Rori gesturedto the re-assembled cookie in his hand. It was a quirk, a weirdlittle ritual she had shared with Jack as children. He alwayspulled the tops off his Oreos, doubled them (even the Double StuffOreos), and passed her the naked tops. She hated white frosting.Something about the rote, easy way John had done it sent a chill upher spine. It was as though he were trying to mimic Jack.
"Oh, John andJack have become close, Rori. Closer than you could imagine. I'dsay John has picked up a lot of Jack's... habits."
The hesitationwas odd. Rori dunked a
