Page 31 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Then when they were assigned to debate a position on dress codes in primary education programs, he’d watched her come to life and gain confidence by arguing a topic she cared about. They’d started dating that year, and he’d watched her come further out of her shell and eventually become the center of their social group.

She’d been happy for him when he was drafted but wasn’t interested in the life associated with professional sports. He hadn’t faulted her for wanting consistency in her life, and to this day it was the most amiable breakup he’d ever had.

They’d kept in touch as friends while he was in Arkansas. When he moved back to Omaha, he occasionally saw her out and about over thenext few years, but it wasn’t until a friend’s thirtieth-birthday celebration a couple of months ago that they’d ended up back at his place. The next morning while he made breakfast, she’d asked if he wanted to give it another try, and they’d been together since.

Being with Carly was familiar and effortless. His family loved her—all of them—and they mostly had the same friends. They both enjoyed their own space and still led their own lives, which suited them both.

It was hard to imagine anything better.

A familiar voice approached Jamie from behind. “Hey, bro.”

Jamie picked up his beer and considered his brother. “Hey.”

“Where’s Blythe?”

“Couldn’t make it,” Jamie said. “Holden came down with something.”

Greg’s face twisted in distaste.

God help this family if Greg ever had children. “How’s it going?”

“You know how it is. Work’s insane and Dad’s been riding my ass.”

Jamie took a long pull of his lager, unsympathetic. “You’re the one who went to work for him.”

“He pays me well.”

To Jamie, it still wasn’t worth it. He regarded the other partygoers, not interested in talking about money. “Good turnout,” he offered.

Greg chuckled. “Most of them are Stacy’s friends. I’m not complaining—she set me up with the hot brunette in yellow.”

“Lucky you,” Jamie said dryly.

“Hopefully.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Probably wherever the food is. Kitchen, I guess.”

Jamie found his dad exactly there. It had been a few months, and his blond hair was drifting closer to white every day. Even at sixty, he was still a good-looking man and wore it like a badge of honor.

His dad clapped him on the back. “Jamie. Thanks for coming.”

“Happy Birthday, old man.”

His dad laughed. “You’ll be here before you know it.” He tipped his chin at a couple walking by. “How’s the tree business?”

“Great.”

“I always have something for you, you know. If you want a real job.”

Jamie stiffened but refused to take the bait. “Thanks, but I have one.”

His dad continued on, eyes scanning the room as he spoke. He’d always been a master at remaining in control while feigning disinterest at the same time.

Was it not exhausting? All the facades and pretending?

“Come on. You’re my son. Yard work isn’t what you were meant to do.”

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