Never Say Goodbye

“I’m looking forward to the iris show,” Frank remarked.

“So am I,” Jess said with a smile. Taking her parents to see the gardens when the irises were at their peak, followed by an elegant brunch in one of the downtown hotels, had become an eagerly anticipated annual outing.

“Speaking of flowers, I need to order some mulch for the rose beds. And I think I lost my Mr. Lincoln this winter. I’ll have to replace that as soon as the shipments come in.” He turned to Jess. “I’m planning to extend the back garden and add a few more bushes this year.”

She smiled. Her father’s rose garden was a neighborhood legend. “How many do you have now, Dad?”

“Forty-five.”

“I don’t know why you even bother going down to the botanical garden. You have your own right here.”

He looked pleased. “Mostly roses, though. I like to look at all the other flowers, too.”

“So have you been working longer hours?” Clare asked Jess, doggedly returning to her earlier line of questioning.

Jess toyed with the food on her plate, and took a deep breath. She might as well tell them about Scott’s visit. After all, they were all adults. They could discuss the situation rationally. “Yes. And not sleeping very well for the past few days. Scott came by on Saturday.”

Her father stared at her in stunned silence for a moment, then threw his napkin on the table and stood. “That’s it. I’m calling John Kane. We’ll put a stop to this.”

So much for rational discussion, Jess thought ruefully. This was the reaction she’d been afraid of. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Dad.”

He planted his fists on his hips. “Are you telling me that you’re not upset by these contacts?”

“No. But he’ll get the message eventually.”

“He’ll get it a lot faster if he gets slapped with a restraining order.”

He’d also get in trouble. Probably big trouble, Jess figured. She doubted the criminal justice system showed much mercy to newly released prisoners who were accused of harassment. And after looking into his eyes, she just couldn’t do that to him.

“Let it go for now, Dad,” she said quietly. “I’ll think about it if this keeps up.”

Her father studied her appraisingly. “What did he say to you?”

She shrugged. “Not much. Just that he was sorry.”

Frank snorted. “It’s a little late for that.”

“I told him the same thing.”

“Did you also tell him to leave you alone?”

“More or less. I shut the door in his face.”

“I don’t like this, Jess,” Clare said, clearly worried. “It’s been a hard few years for you. You don’t need to have your life disrupted again.”

Jess didn’t disagree. The trouble was, her life was already disrupted.

When she didn’t respond, Frank spoke again. “Your mother’s right, Jess. You’ve been through enough.”

Jess looked at her parents. They’d always been overly protective of their only daughter. And while she deeply valued their support and understanding and unqualified love, this was a decision she had to make on her own. She’d been affected by Scott’s return in ways she didn’t quite understand. And until she did, until she made sense of her chaotic emotions and thoughts, she was reluctant to take any action.

“I appreciate your concern. But I want to give this a little time,” she said firmly.

There was silence around the table for a moment, and then Clare spoke. “It’s her decision, Frank. She’ll let us know if she wants us to step in.”

Jess sent her mother a grateful look, then transferred her gaze to her father. He frowned in disapproval and seemed poised to make another comment. But after a moment he silently took his seat instead, confining his response to a single sentence.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said shortly.

So did she, Jess thought with a sigh.

“The welcoming committee’s here!”

Scott grinned at Karen, who stood on the other side of his door bearing a pie carrier in one hand and a plate of brownies in the other. “I’m salivating already. I haven’t had anything home cooked in years.”

“There’s more,” she called over her shoulder as she sailed past. “The cooler in the trunk is filled with lasagna, meat loaf and a bunch of other stuff. Can you grab that while I take these to the kitchen?”

Scott did as requested, returning to find Karen surveying his apartment with a frown, her hands planted on her hips, her lips compressed into a thin line. Here it comes, he thought resignedly as he deposited the cooler on the kitchen floor. He took a deep breath and braced himself before turning toward her

“I appreciate all this food, sis. More than you know. But you didn’t need to go to so much trouble. It must have taken you days to make all this.”

“I’m glad I did. I just checked your freezer and your cabinets. Corn flakes, bread, instant rice, instant mashed potatoes, canned stew, eggs. Is that what you’ve been living on?”

“It beats prison fare,” he replied lightly. “Was the drive down okay?”

“It was fine. But I’m not through talking about you yet.” Her gaze swept over the apartment before returning to him, and she folded her arms across her chest. “This isn’t acceptable, Scott.”

“I warned you it wasn’t the Ritz.”

“It isn’t even a cut-rate motel,” she shot back.

“It’s good enough for now.”

“There was a lovely guest room waiting for you in my house. There still is.”

“I need to be here, Karen,” he said quietly.

She looked at him in silence for a few moments. “Because of Jess.”

“Yes.”

She sighed resignedly. “Well, I’m not going to argue with you about that. It would be a lost cause. But I’m not happy about this,” she said with a sweeping gesture around the tiny apartment.

“I didn’t think you would be.”

“Is this really all you can afford?”

“For now.”