Page 3 of Love and Other Lost Things

Mrs. Swanson shook her head. “It was very hard on your mother, you know. Such a tragedy.” She pressed a hand to her heart, face crumpling. “Your father in the prime of his life.”

Jane stood back while the older woman dabbed at her eyes, knowing that anything she said would only prolong this.

Finally, Mrs. Swanson’s face folded back into a scowl. “Your poor mother couldn’t eat or sleep for weeks. She’s lucky she had the town to rally around her since her own daughter was too busy.”

Jane’s chest began to burn. Oh, yeah? Where had the town been all those years when Mom had shown up with another cast on her arm or bandage on her hand? Were they rallying around her when their eyes darted over Mom’s shoulder to avoid looking at the bruises on her face? How many ladders did they really believe Mom had fallen from?

But before Jane could let her anger spill out, a tall, dark-haired man carrying a shopping basket turned the corner at the end of the aisle and began making his way toward them. Jane moved to the side to make room, but before he could pass, Mrs. Swanson beamed and fluttered her eyelashes. “Hello, Nikolas. It’s lovely to see you.”

Jane barely heard what the man said in return because she was busy stumbling sideways into the Barbie Dream House.

Did she say Nikolas?

Her gaze whipped in the direction of the man, and she had to tilt her head back to see his face. The last time she’d laid eyes on Nik, he’d been a skinny teenager with messy hair, glasses slightly askew, and a pair of headphones permanently stuck to his ears with the tinny sound of Radiohead playing through the speakers. He couldn’t have been more than a few inches taller than her own five-foot six frame, and he’d practically lived in a worn flannel button-up.

This Nikolas was well over six feet tall with dark hair carefully styled back off his bronze forehead and a close-cropped beard on his handsome jaw. Under his Patagonia puffer jacket, Jane could make out broad shoulders and a pair of light blue scrubs. This guy looked like he’d fit right in on the set of any network hospital drama.

This couldn’t be the same Nik, could it?

But then his dark eyes met hers and, for a moment, Jane wondered if she were back on the Southern California fault line because the earth shifted beneath her feet. There was no mistaking those eyes.

Jane knew the moment he recognized her because his head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. Keeping his eyes on her face, he slowly lowered his shopping basket to the floor. “Mrs. Swanson, can I carry your packages to the register for you?” he asked the older woman.

“Aren’t you sweet? Here you go, young man.” Mrs. Swanson handed over her wrapping paper and hand cream, shuffling down the aisle.

Nik adjusted the packages in his arms, all the while keeping his gaze glued to Jane’s. Her heart pitched and she struggled to breathe air into her lungs. Finally, he turned and followed Mrs. Swanson.

As soon as Nik rounded the corner, Jane took off in the opposite direction. Of all people, Nik was the last person she’d expected to see. She never would have stopped at this store if she’d had even an inkling that he’d be here. She never would have stopped in this town. They’d always talked about getting out of here for good, but his scrubs and local hospital ID badge implied he was on his way home from work, not just here for a weekend to visit his mom.

How did Nik end up living in Linden Falls, a good Samaritan carrying old ladies’ packages and working at the local hospital, while Jane was that selfish McCaffrey girl who’d abandoned her family and didn’t even bother to come home for her own father’s funeral?

Jane did her best to shrug off that thought. It was infinitely better if she let them all believe that. And best if she and Scarlett hid out at Mom’s for the next few days and then got the hell out of town for another decade. Or forever.

But if Nik came looking for her, it was going to be a lot harder to pull that off.

She’d have to run past the register to leave out the front door, so instead, she made her way to the far side of the store, ducking into the feminine hygiene aisle. Through a space between shelves, she spotted her car parked by the sidewalk, the top of Scarlett’s sleeping head pressed against the window. Could Jane duck out the back door and run around the building? Or was it better to wait it out here and not risk running into Nik again out on the sidewalk?

As she debated her options, a blur of dark hair and blue jacket flashed at the end of the aisle. Refusing to look up, she picked up a box of tampons and examined it closely. Maybe he’d keep walking. What man would stop to talk to a woman in the tampon aisle?

But then: “Jane.”

She picked up another box and kept reading. Organic cotton—interesting.

“Jane.” Now he towered over her, less than an arm’s length away. “Can we talk for a minute?”

His voice vibrated through her, as familiar as her own. She’d been hearing that voice in her dreams for a decade.

Releasing a shaky breath, she slowly lowered the box and looked up. “Oh. Hey.” She forced a lightness into her tone, like they were nothing but two high school acquaintances home for the holidays. Like she wasn’t crumpling the box in her hands to keep them from shaking.

Nik shifted his weight. “What are you doing here?”

Jane blinked. “Uh—” She curved her mouth into a rueful smile as she waved the tampon box at him. “You know. Just some shopping.”

He didn’t even glance at the box, his dark eyes stayed laser-focused on her. “What are you doing in town?”

“Oh. Right.” Jane tossed the tampon box back on the shelf. “I—uh.” She probably should have thought up a good story in advance in case anyone asked. But she’d been in survival mode since they’d left LA, and she hadn’t been able to think further ahead than the next truck stop. “I—just came home to help my mom with some of my dad’s stuff,” she improvised. “The will and death certificates. Sorting the mess in the basement. All that stuff.”

If Nik still lived here, he’d have heard about Dad’s passing. Chief McCaffrey’s death had made the front page of the local newspaper, and so had the funeral. Jane had googled it just to be sure he was really gone.

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