Page 65 of Love and Other Lost Things

“Good.” He nodded in Jane’s direction. “It’s great to see you. I didn’t realize you were back in town.”

“Just visiting.” She shrugged. “I hear you’re an attorney now.”

“Did the suit give it away?” Martin laughed. “I don’t usually wear one, but I was in court this morning.”

“Actually, my mom told me. She said you practice family law. Divorces and custody cases.” Jane hesitated, eyeing his suit. “Do you have reason to go to court often in a small town like Linden Falls?”

“You’d be surprised.” Martin cocked his head. “Did your mom also tell you my door is always open? I offer a steep discount for old friends.”

Jane might have been imagining it, but she felt his gaze shift to the bruise on her cheek. It seemed like overnight it had turned from purple to a hideous greenish-yellow color. That was good, it meant that it would be gone soon, but Jane couldn’t help but feel extra self-conscious about it now. And since she’d slept in Scarlett’s hospital room last night, she hadn’t had any make-up to cover it up.

Did Martin know? Or at least suspect? He was clearly a smart guy.

For about the hundredth time that morning, Jane’s thoughts drifted back to her revelation about Nik last night, and that same longing kicked her in the gut. What if it were true? What if Nik were Scarlett’s father? And what if maybe there was a way out that didn’t involve running away again?

She’d need the best lawyer in the business, someone who’d be willing to go up against Matteo, someone scary enough to get him to back down. Jane was pretty sure she wasn’t going to find that kind of lawyer in Linden Falls.

As if he could read her mind, Martin pulled a card from his pocket and held it out. “Listen, Jane. I worked for five years at a firm in New York City on pretty much every kind of case you can imagine, and I saw just about everything. Opposing counsel might think I’m just a small-town lawyer in sleepy Western New York. But I just use it to my favor when they underestimate me.”

Jane took the card, studying the black font against the heavy cream cardstock. “Well, I should probably get going.”

Martin nodded. “It was nice to run into you.”

“You, too.” Jane headed to the pharmacy window at the back of the store.

There was a garbage can near the checkout, and she almost tossed Martin’s card in but, at the last second, she tucked it into her pocket instead.

Back at the house, Jane got Scarlett settled on the couch with Nik’s books, and then she headed into the kitchen to make some breakfast. Mom was standing at the stove, pancake batter already mixed up, poured on the pan, and dotted with chocolate chips.

I could get used to this. With an exhausted sigh, Jane settled on a stool with a cup of coffee.

“I’m so sorry about the accident.” Mom nudged the bag of chocolate chips, and Jane was reminded that this all started with Scarlett’s sweet tooth. “I should have been watching her.”

“It’s not your fault.” Across the counter, Jane met her mother’s eyes. “I mean it. The same thing could have happened when I was here. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I should have protected her.” Mom cleared her throat, her eyes filling. “I should have protected her, and I should have protected you.”

Jane’s mouth dropped open, but no words would come out. In all her years of living with Dad, Mom had never expressed regret over how she’d defended him instead of leaving. She’d certainly never acknowledged how it had affected Jane. But instead of that same old bitterness rising up, a new emotion took over, one triggered by old memories: Dad annoyed that Jane was out too late at choir practice, and Mom mentioning that the mayor had complimented Jane’s beautiful voice. Dad grumbling about Jane’s friends, and Mom running to get Dad a beer. Dad angry about Jane’s grade on a science test, and Mom getting a slap across the face.

Maybe it took eighteen years for Dad to turn on me because Mom always stepped in to stop him.

As a child, she hadn’t realized it. But now it made perfect sense, especially because now she knew what it was like to be in Mom’s shoes. How many times had Matteo been annoyed with Scarlett, and Jane had feared he might hurt her? You’re in the way, you’re playing too loudly. Jane had always made sure she was there to step in, to draw his ire away. Had Mom silently protected Jane by soothing Dad, by distracting him, and—when that didn’t work—by taking a punch?

“You did protect me,” Jane whispered. “More than I ever realized.” Gently, she reached and touched Mom’s wrist, the one where she sometimes wore a brace.

Mom flipped her hand over and took Jane’s, giving it a squeeze. With the other hand, she brushed a tear from her cheek.

The pan sizzled, and Mom turned away to attend to breakfast. “I know I keep dwelling on this”—she flipped the pancakes—“but what if you were to stay here?”

Jane reached into her pocket and rubbed the edge of Martin’s card. He really did seem very competent. But all the competence in the world wasn’t going to stop Matteo if he didn’t want to be stopped. “I don’t think Matteo would ever let us go.”

Mom took a deep breath, almost as if she were debating whether to say something. “There are ways to deal with Matteo.”

“Like talking to a lawyer?”

“Well, yes. For one thing. Or?—”

A knock at the door cut off her next words, and Jane’s mind flew to Matteo. He’d texted her about staffing at the club less than an hour ago. He wouldn’t show up here now. Would he? The fear always lingered in the corners of her mind. That fight-or-flight response always turned slightly up.

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