Page 75 of Love and Other Lost Things

“We’d love to come.”

When Jane opened her car door in Hannah’s driveway, she was immediately hit by the sound of shrieking and laughter coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the backyard. She and Scarlett peeked around the side of the house and found at least half a dozen children on colorful saucers and sleds, gliding down the long slope that ended in the neighbor’s backyard.

Scarlett looked up at Jane with shining eyes. “Am I allowed to go play with them?”

Jane’s heart squeezed. There was no going alone to do anything in downtown LA, let alone play with other children. It wasn’t safe. But here—her gaze swept over the backyards lined up in a neat row, dotted with swing sets and snow forts and the tracks of children moving effortlessly from one yard to the next—here Scarlett would be more than safe.

A woman stood on the back porch of a neighboring house, helping her child into his mittens before sending him off with the other kids. She spotted Jane and gave a wave. Jane waved back.

“Just be careful of your arm,” Jane said, adjusting her own daughter’s mittens. “No sledding this time. But you can build a snowman, okay?”

Scarlett nodded eagerly, and Jane had the feeling that she would have agreed to anything.

With one more glance at her daughter, Jane headed back around to the front of Hannah’s house. There were two cars in the driveway, so Jane assumed that in addition to Hannah, she’d see Ed when she got inside. But when the door swung open, she found Ali on the threshold.

“Ali,” she said, surprised. They’d talked last night at dinner and Ali had been perfectly nice. Friendly, even. But that was with everyone sitting around the table. Was her old friend still mad at her?

Ali cocked her head. “Well, come in then.”

Jane stamped her boots and stepped inside. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” Ali gave her a crooked smile. “Me, too.”

They made their way back to the kitchen where they found Hannah arranging some of Mrs. Andino’s leftover Christmas cookies on a plate and pouring hot water into mugs. She set down the kettle and ran over to give Jane a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.” She hitched her chin out the kitchen window. “The girls seem like they’re having fun already.”

Through the glass, Jane spotted a group of kids at work constructing a giant snowball. Scarlett blended right in with the others in her winter coat and hat, hauling handfuls of snow to the pile and patting it into place. Jane turned back to the room and gave her old friend a smile.

Hannah’s kitchen was just like her: warm, inviting, a little bit disheveled. Soon Jane was seated at the island with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies in front of her. They talked about Hannah’s teaching job and Ali’s work at the gallery, and then about Ed and Lexi and married life.

“So, Jane,” Hannah said, refilling her mug with tea, “I don’t even know what you do for work.”

Jane opened her mouth to say she was a server, but she didn’t want to talk about Matteo or the club. And she didn’t want to keep lying. “I’m kind of between careers right now. I guess you could say that my job is to be a single mother to Scarlett.”

“Single mother?” Ali took a sip of her tea. “So, Scarlett’s dad is?—”

“Out of the picture,” Jane said, quickly.

Hannah slid onto a stool, propping her chin on her hand. “That’s a lot to deal with.”

“Believe me, it’s for the best.”

Hannah’s face creased with sympathy. “Well, then, I’m glad he’s out of the picture.”

“Do you still play music?” Ali asked. “We all heard you headed out to LA to make it in the music business.”

Jane wished she could at least say she’d tried. But somehow it didn’t hurt like it used to. She’d been in a terrible position, and she’d done what she needed to survive. She’d done what she needed to do to care for her child. Jane peeked over Hannah’s shoulder, out the kitchen window, and saw Scarlett and another little girl from the neighborhood laughing in a pile of snow. Maybe Jane didn’t have a lot to show for a career, or any of her life in LA, but despite everything they’d been through, her daughter was going to be okay.

Jane’s hand slid to her cheek. The bruise was almost completely gone now. Anyone would have to squint to spot the last yellowing remains near the corner of her eye. But inside her, the pain remained. The bruises buried, hidden, secret. She’d been so isolated and alone for so damn long. Matteo had made sure of it.

If she moved to Canada, it would be more of the same. She’d still be alone, still looking over her shoulder, still tensing up every time she heard a car outside or a knock at the front door. Jane regarded her old friends across the island. They had been everything to her. What if she’d told them the truth back then?

What if she told them now?

“I ran away to LA to get away from my dad,” Jane said, quietly. “He was abusive.”

Hannah gasped and Ali’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, Jane.” Hannah’s voice shook. “That’s awful.”

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