Page 22 of Love and Other Lost Things

Jane had hoped that she could keep Scarlett entirely hidden from the people of this town. A busybody like Mrs. Swanson would probably take perverse pleasure in giving them away when Matteo came poking around. And as for Nik…

She should have considered Nik before she came back to Linden Falls.

When Mom had called to say that Dad had died and asked her to come home to help sort his things, Jane felt like the universe had handed her an incredible gift. It was the chance she’d been searching for and had almost despaired of ever finding. And it had all worked out perfectly… until she ran into Nik in Ford’s General Store. It had never occurred to her that he might still live in this town, but she should have known better.

Nik could never know about Matteo, or Scarlett, or anything about her life in LA. The chances were too great that he’d ask questions, that he wouldn’t be satisfied with vague answers and attempts to change the subject. There was that moment in Ford’s yesterday when he’d taken her chin in his hand to get a better look at her bruised and battered cheek. She’d sensed his concern and had known he suspected there was more to her story than an accident with a cabinet.

If Nik ever knew how much more to the story there really was, would he want to get involved? Outside on the sidewalk, he’d seen her struggling and taken the snow shovel from her. Last night in Ford’s he’d immediately offered to carry Mrs. Swanson’s packages. Nik had been a volunteer emergency medical technician, and now he was a doctor. He was the kind of guy who stepped in to help. She’d always loved that about him.

But there was no helping her out of this situation. Jane had to do that on her own.

She kicked off her snow boots as Mom came down the hall to greet her.

“Was that Nik?”

“Yeah.” The remaining bits of snow on her boots landed on the wood floor and started to melt. Jane focused on the mess, using her foot to nudge the doormat over the boards to soak up the puddles. “Sorry.”

Mom didn’t even glance at the floor. “What did he want?”

Jane pulled off the coat she was wearing. It had looked warmer than the jacket she’d brought from LA, so when she’d headed out to do the shoveling, she’d grabbed it off the hook. The minute she’d slipped it on, Jane had realized it was Dad’s old coat. The stale scent of burned tobacco had wafted around her, reminding her of Dad, of Matteo, of the smoke that used to seep into their apartment from the club below. When she’d reached her hand into the pocket, it had closed around the crumpled cellophane of a half-used pack of Marlboros. Jane had shoved the cigarettes deeper into the folds of the coat with a shudder.

“Jane?” Mom prompted. “What did Nik say?”

“He just…” Jane lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Wanted to say hello.”

“Well, that was nice of him, especially after all this time. He took it hard when you left.”

Jane’s head swung in Mom’s direction. How could she know that? Were she and Mrs. Andino talking again?

When Mrs. Andino had started cleaning houses to pay the bills after her husband passed, Mom had convinced Dad to hire her. If the leaders of this town support a struggling family, others will follow. Dad had cherished his reputation as the town’s protector and all-around good guy, so he’d agreed. Mrs. Andino had started coming once a week to clean the house. She’d bring Nik to hang out with Jane, and after her work was done, she’d sit in the living room drinking tea and talking with Mom.

As the police chief’s wife, Mom was friendly with everyone in town, but Helen Andino had been the first and only real friend Jane could remember her having. And those Tuesday afternoons had been the first time she’d seen Mom smile, relax… even laugh. Looking back as an adult who understood a little bit about loneliness and isolation, Jane could imagine what a relief it must have been to finally make a real connection with someone.

And then one day, maybe a year later, Dad had come home early and found the two women giggling on the couch. Jane could still remember the way the entire house had suddenly filled with tension. Mom’s spine stiffened and her laughter died in her throat, and Mrs. Andino immediately began gathering up the mugs and plates to carry into the kitchen. That night, over dinner, Dad had asked Mom when she was going to start cleaning the house herself again. How long are we supposed to support that family?

“Just a little longer,” Mom had insisted. “I can’t fire her on the anniversary of her husband’s death. It won’t look good to the rest of the town.”

Dad had just grunted and gone back to his potatoes.

The next Tuesday, one of Mom’s gold necklaces had gone missing. Dad had discovered that it wasn’t hanging on her jewelry stand when he went upstairs to bed that night. “It was here this morning,” he’d grumbled. “Helen must have taken it.”

It had been easy for him to get rid of Mrs. Andino after that.

Jane wasn’t aware that Mom and Mrs. Andino had talked in years, outside of exchanging polite hellos around town. “How do you know Nik took it hard when I left?”

“He used to approach me at the grocery store and ask about you.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “What did you tell him?”

“I never told him much. I didn’t know much.” Mom hesitated now, as if she were weighing whether to say the next thing. “After Dad died, Nik stopped by a few times, just to check in and see if I needed anything.”

Jane’s heart pitched. Of course he had.

“I’m sure that had more to do with you than it did with me,” Mom mused. “That boy never got over you.”

Jane gave her a long stare. Mom had been there the day it had all come crashing down. She knew what had happened with Nik, and she knew what Dad had done. And she hadn’t done anything to stop it from happening.

But that was a decade ago.

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