Page 37 of A Recipe Called Home

Miles said nothing, just held her gaze. He was going to let her say whatever she needed to.

“While I was back in D.C., I quit my job, and I don’t know what comes next. But I need to figure it out. Everything feels so…uncertain right now.”

She looked at her hands clasped in her lap and continued, “Seeing you again was unexpected and wonderful, but I think it’s best if we keep things simple for now, just friends. I can’t handle much more, which is why I left in a rush the other day.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Miles still didn’t respond, as if processing her words.

“I’ll understand if that’s not what you want, but it would mean a lot to me if we could try. You mean a lot to me. I don’t want to lose you, again,” she said, words running together.

She hated how desperate she sounded, but she couldn’t imagine going back to the way it was before, when they didn’t know each other anymore. And now, sharing the same space, it was hard to remain resolute in her decision. More than anything, she wanted to lean over the center console and kiss him hard, run her fingers through his tousled hair. She wanted his soft, warm lips to close around hers as he caressed the side of her face like he always did.

His silence punctuated the air between them. Jules held her breath, waiting for his response.

“You mean a lot to me, too. You always have, Jules. Every day since prom, I have regretted letting you go and not fighting harder for us. But at the time, I thought it was for the best, though it’s haunted me. I’ve missed having you in my life. So, if friendship is all you can offer, I can try.” Miles paused. “Although, I have plenty of those already,” he added with a smirk, dissolving the taut tension, although Jules could see the disappointment in the way he kept his body rigid.

“Could you take on one more, for me?” she asked, lacing her fingers together in front of her, relaxing her shoulders. She hoped they could find a way to stay connected.

“Of course.”

“Thank you. But, how did you know I was back in town?”

“Well, obviously not from you,” he said, a slight edge in his voice before adding a smirk. “Greg, one of the science teachers here, texted me last night asking if I was going to the party Winnie was throwing for one of her friends, ‘Jules’. Although, I had no idea what he was talking about.”

“Ahh, sorry about that. That’s my fault. I wanted to talk to you first,” she said, stretching the truth. “But you’re welcome to come tonight! It’s just an excuse for Winnie to throw a party.”

Jules was embarrassed she asked Winnie not to invite him. Of course, he’d hear about it.

“Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

That’s all Jules could ask him to do.

After their rendezvous in the school parking lot, Jules felt conflicted at best. She was glad he took the conversation well. But in truth, part of her wanted him to talk her out of it. Convince her they’d be good together and should give it a proper go this time. But Miles was respectful. Always had been, and that wouldn’t change now.

The dress rehearsal was set to start at three thirty, so she hurried inside to find a stressed and frantic Winnie hurling demands at the students backstage as they got into their costumes and took their places.

“Hey, Win,” Jules said, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder from behind, causing Winnie to whip around, almost losing her balance.

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” she said, hand over heart. “Talk me down, Jules. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jules engulfed Winnie in a long hug before giving her a quick motivational talk.

“It’s just pre-show jitters, that’s all. And remember this is just the dress rehearsal. There’s four more days to fine tune anything that needs it before opening night. You got this.”

“Right. From now on, I’m a beacon of calm. I will be the lighthouse in the storm. Calm as an angel in the dragon’s den,” she said, hands lifted out to her sides, head back, with closed eyes.

“Yeah…be those.” Jules chuckled. She loved her best friend, weird metaphors and all.

Within thirty seconds, Winnie was back to her high-pitched screeching, trying to locate the male lead, who was in the bathroom nursing a bad hangover from the cast party the night before. Winnie and Jules found him hunched over the toilet.

“I’m going to pretend that I don’t know the real reason you’re puking your guts out right now, and in exchange for that, you’re going to get up and get on stage in no less than two minutes,” Winnie said to him, kneeling down to be eye-level.

Making their way to the theater, Jules whispered, “Damn, Winnie, that was straight up mafia style.”

“Kids these days are savage. They can smell weakness from a mile away.”

“Whatever you say. You’re the Don.”

“They’d do good not to forget it, too,” she said in a fake Italian accent, causing them to burst out laughing. Both knew Winnie was the farthest from a ‘Don’ personality as one could get.

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