When You Were Mine Read online

  She trusts Michael more than I did, although I knew him for years as we grew up together.

  "I'm Sydney, Jenny's sister."

  I look down at my scuffed brown shoes, which are grubby from kitchen work, and see Emily's pink-painted toenails in perfectly white strappy sandals a few inches away.

  Sydney touches my shoulder and I look up, blinking.

  "You better get some rest."

  Michael frowns at me as he speaks, and I frown back at him.

  "You too."

  I'm not sure how long we stare at each other before my sister grabs my hand and tugs at me.

  "Sleeping Beauty needs to get moving if we don't want our dinner to get cold."

  I let her lead me away from Michael and Emily, who slips around us easily with a smile. Does she wonder what Michael ever saw in me?

  Does he?

  "Thanks again, both of you."

  His voice rings out behind us right as the glass door closes, and I turn to smile at him. Emily is watching him look at me, and her perfect, sweet smile dims just enough for me to notice.

  "That wasn't awkward or anything. It makes me kind of glad that you were away at college all this time, because I don't think I could have handled all that weirdness for months on end."

  Sydney holds out her hand and I stare at it as we stand beside my car. Emily's expression bothers me, and I wonder if I've caused a problem for Michael.

  "Your keys?"

  I guess she's driving, and since I'm reaching a point where I'm starting to sway where I stand, a point that rushed up to meet me fast in the last few minutes, I'm glad she is.

  She checks her phone before she starts up the car, and I lean into the passenger side window, resting my forehead on the glass.

  "Mom says thanks for dinner, she and Dad are both hungry. I didn't mention the muffins, so he'll be happy with the surprise."

  I wish we had thought of something to surprise our mom with, too.

  "Give me a second, will you?"

  I don't let her answer before I'm out of the car and running across the mostly empty parking lot, back into the diner.

  "Is something wrong?"

  Michael and Emily are sitting across from one another in a booth, and they look over at me when Mary speaks.

  "Could I get one of the brownies? I meant to put them in the case but with everything else going on . . ."

  Mary waves a hand in the air dismissively.

  "Sure, of course. I'll be right back. Are you sure you just want one?"

  I nod. This is just for my mom, and while I worry for a moment that it might be something that makes her sick, I remember that I've seen her eating chocolate since I've been back, so it should be okay.

  As I wait for Mary, wiping my hands on my thighs although I washed them before I left the diner in the first place, I look out of the corner of my eye at Michael and Emily, doing my best not to turn my head so it's obvious that I'm watching them.

  She has her palms down on the table in front of her, studying the back of her hands while he leans close to her.

  I can see her fingers clearly, along with the diamond solitaire she's wearing on her ring finger.

  It looks simple and new, and nothing like the ornate antique piece Cathy described to me only a few years ago.

  Michael didn't give Emily his grandmother's ring.

  Chapter Twenty One

  I'm smiling when Mary hands me a small box, and she narrows her eyes at me.

  "Are you up to something?"

  I feel my eyes widen. I'm too tired to be up to anything, but she must read my smile as gears shifting in my head, which it absolutely is.

  She's too perceptive, so I have to watch myself before I get questioned more by her than by my sister.

  "Not at all. Do you want me to put the money in the register, or give it to you?"

  She shakes her head, then takes my arm and turns me around, walking beside me to the door. I don't look back at Michael and Emily, having seen all I need to see to give me a tiny shred of hope.

  I'm just not sure what to do with that hope.

  "Are you sure?"

  Brownies are a dollar each, so it isn't like the diner is going to miss out a whole lot if I don't pay, but I don't feel right just taking it.

  "I'm betting it isn't even for you, is it?"

  Mary takes a good guess, and I shrug.

  "Get out of here. We'll see you tomorrow morning, so take it easy."

  Without looking back, I leave the building and walk back to my car. Sydney starts hassling me the minute I pull the door open.

  As I slide in, I hold the brownie in a box up so she can see it, although she can't know what's inside.

  "What was that about?"

  Once I'm belted in, I open the box and show her what's inside.

  "Oh wow. Who is that for?"

  She backs the car out of its space as she asks, and as I lean back into the seat, I fight to keep my eyes open. It's a short drive home, but now that I’m off my feet, the tiredness hits me harder.

  "Mom. We have muffins for Dad, but you know she won't eat one."

  It's true. She always makes sure she has what he wants, and the same for us. What does she ever get for herself?

  "Is she going to start craving weird stuff now? I read somewhere that pregnant women do."

  One of my former classmate's younger siblings is waiting on his bike at a stop sign, and when Sydney pulls the car to a stop, she waves him across.

  "I guess? I know practically nothing about pregnancy, so I guess we're about to find out."

  She reaches out and takes my hand. At first I think she's reaching for the brownie, so I push her hand away.

  "Hey!"

  We both laugh, and I move the box aside so we can hold hands, resting them together on my leg.

  "I'm really happy that you're staying home. I hope you don't change your mind."

  I shake my head, although she's watching the road, as she should be, and I know she won't see the movement.

  "No, and that reminds me that I have to cancel my classes for the fall, along with my dorm agreement."

  Cathy is definitely going to need me more than five hours a day, no matter what she tells me after she's home from the hospital, and the dynamic in our house is going to change, too. I could leave and hide from it all in August, but I'm pretty sure that my immediate future is taking care of itself with events beyond my control.

  I hope that whatever I can contribute to everyone involved will be helpful. Maybe I can figure out my next steps while I do what I can for my family and for Michael's family right now.

  The bag with our dinner sits on the floor between my feet, and it's only when I hear it crunching between my calves do I realize I'm literally falling asleep, relaxing my legs and threatening to smash our chicken and rice.

  "Watch it! Geez, it's like you've never worked a day in your life."

  I hold back a mean retort, knowing that she is just teasing me. Working in the kitchen at the diner all morning is tiring, and when the lunch crowd hits, it is so busy that it's hard to take a moment to take a sip of water sometimes.

  We might be a small town, but everyone goes to the only diner we have. I suspect that even if we had a fast food or other chain restaurant within city limits, most people would still gravitate towards Lindsay's, where the food is homemade and the atmosphere inimitable.

  "Do you want me to carry any of that?"

  Instead of answering my sister right away, I get out of the car once we're in our driveway and hold the bag up to show that I'm perfectly capable of managing it.

  The kitchen table is already set with plates and silverware, but I know that first and foremost, I need to get cleaned up.

  "I'll be right back," I say to whoever might be listening as I place the bag of food on the counter. I hear my mom say something from the living room as I walk by, and am reassured by the calm tone of her voice.

  It's only when I'm in the shower, finally, and completely alone
that I'm surprised by a rush of tears that I don't bother to fight. No one can see me, and it's been so long since I've cried over anything.

  Or anyone.

  Cathy is in the hospital. My mom is pregnant.

  And Michael is marrying someone else.

  I'm taking too long to get a handle on my emotions, and sure enough, the bathroom door opens as I'm huddling under the hot spray of water, my head tucked down and my arms wrapped around myself.

  "Dad's going to eat all the rice if you don't hurry up."

  I didn't expect them to wait for me, but my sister is right. Dad eats like he's still a sixteen year old boy in the midst of a growth spurt.

  "Sorry, I'm just really sticky. My hair is a mess."

  The words come out thick and I have to clear my throat to continue, but as I start to say more, the shower curtain moves and Sydney's face appears at the other end of the tub.

  Modesty is not an option with a little sister so close to my age.

  "You're not okay, are you?"

  Her words are barely loud enough for me to hear with my head under the shower spray, but I'm grateful that she's being careful so our parents don't overhear.

  I don't want them to worry about me, not when they have a baby to think about now.

  Instead of answering my sister, I turn off the water and squeeze my soaking hair out, taking a deep breath as I do.

  The curtain twitches again before it slides completely away, and I squeal at the rush of cool air as Sydney shoves a towel at me.

  "Why won't you talk to me? You didn't have any problem doing that last summer."

  She's right. I just feel like I should be able to handle this by myself now, and she has her own life to enjoy.

  "There's a lot to get used to, that's all. Why don't you tell me what's up with Parker?"

  Her eyes narrow, but she smiles after releasing a small sigh.

  "He's the only person I know who gets excited about mid-century modernism! We have to invite him to Fallingwater with us."

  Vague memories of huge coffee table books with brilliant photos of homes in very creative and sharp arrangements come to mind, but my interest in them has always been limited to what was necessary to keep Sydney happy.

  "Of course. Maybe we need to plan that trip sooner than later, in case Mom needs us."

  The knock at the bathroom door is loud and brisk.

  "Mom does need you, right now to come and eat. You can talk just as easily out here, and I can only hold your dad off that rice for so long."

  Sydney and I laugh, and she shoves another towel at me, probably for my hair, which is dripping all over the small, worn lavender rug underneath my feet.

  "Thanks. Not just for the towels, either."

  She shakes her head and waves a hand in the air as she leaves, turning just as she closes the door so I can see her smile.

  What can I do to show Michael that I still care about him, without interfering with his relationship with Emily?

  Is it wrong to give him a choice now, after he's moved on and has someone he wants to marry?

  Someone he didn't give his grandmother's ring to?

  I'm thinking too much, or maybe in the wrong way, about this. I've also allowed myself a whole school year to hide from him, as well as any thoughts for what I want to do for the rest of my life.

  After I put on the first pair of shorts I find and a t-shirt at the top of the pile in my dresser drawer, I hurry into the kitchen, where, of course, my dad is staring at his empty plate.

  He takes his meals very seriously.

  "You look like a drowned rat, but much better than you did when you came through the front door."

  I pull out my chair and sit down, shaking my head.

  "Thanks, Dad, I think."

  I don't remember if I've eaten anything substantial today, so it's no wonder that as soon as I start scooping up the casserole, my stomach gurgles. Glancing at Sydney, I resist the urge to press my hand against it. She nods in approval.

  Once I shovel a couple of spoonfuls of the thick and creamy mix into my mouth, my mom starts questioning me about work, then brings Sydney into it.

  "I hope Cathy is okay. Actually, when you talk to Michael, Jenny, ask if there's something I can do to help. I'm not a great cook like she is, but we could make something for the three of them, couldn't we? Something simple so they don't have to worry about one meal, at least."

  It's a great idea, and it's only after we're silent, chewing contentedly, that I realize what else she's said.

  What she's assumed.

  There was a time when my parents banned phones at the kitchen table, because I would want to keep mine close in case Michael called or texted.

  Right now, my phone is missing in action. Probably on my bed, or on the floor where I left my jeans earlier.

  But my mom is sure that I'll be talking to Michael, sooner than later.

  "Why don't you two rest, and your dad and I will take care of cleaning up, which won't take long."

  I start to stack plates, but my dad puts his hand on my arm to stop me.

  "Hey, Jenny, listen to your mom, okay? You've got an early morning tomorrow, and honestly, I've never seen you work so hard, so take it easy."

  His voice is so full of concern that I suck in a breath as tears start to fill my eyes and I blink them back.

  "But before you go, can you give me that box? I know you brought muffins for me, but I'm curious about what else you have."

  He points to the solitary cardboard box on the counter.

  Oh, the brownie. I forgot about it, and Sydney must have, too.

  "Sorry, Dad, it's not for you."

  Sydney laughs as he frowns, and I take the box from the counter over to our mom.

  As she opens it, smiling and curious, he makes an appreciative ah sound and leans back in his chair.

  "You're lucky I prefer muffins and cookies. All that chocolate isn't good for my figure."

  He pats his stomach, then slides his arm to the back of our mom's chair.

  "Thank you," she says, her voice low and surprisingly emotional. "I'm sorry, I know it's just a brownie, but I'm so happy you thought of me. I know you were really busy today, and with Cathy sick, you probably had a lot of important things on your mind."

  I hurry to step up behind her and wrap my arms around her neck, and Sydney is suddenly there too, leaning in and pressing a kiss to our mom's head.

  "I didn't get it to make you cry," I insist, but I have to swallow against my own tears.

  She shakes her head as our dad takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. It's so simple yet so romantic, and I miss the many moments Michael and I shared that I am now coming to appreciate were just as sweet.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  My phone is, as I suspected, on my bedroom floor by my jeans, and when I pick it up, it starts to buzz in my hand. I nearly drop it in surprise, then slide my finger on the screen to answer the call.

  Because it's Michael.

  "Hey, Jenny. I just wanted to let you know that my mom will be home from the hospital tomorrow. I know you're worried, and I didn't want you to wait to find out later."

  I sit on my bed, falling back like Sydney did yesterday, but without all of the stretching, and close my eyes.

  "That's good to hear. How does she feel? Did you talk to her?"

  He says something, but it's not directed into the phone, so he must still be at the diner.

  "Sorry, just had to answer a question. I talked to her just for a minute, and then my dad explained what was going on. She'll still need tests and maybe surgery, so I'm not real clear about it all."

  I cover my eyes with my free hand and say what is in my head.

  And my heart.

  "I'm glad she's coming home, but I know how she is. She'll want to work, and you and your dad will have your own work cut out for you making her rest. I'm happy to help, you know that."

  Before he can answer, I keep going.

  "I'm sorry. For every
thing."

  I wrinkle my nose as I wait, the background noise from his end a mix of random voices and the ding of the cash register, which Cathy has set to still sound like the original one that was replaced by the current computer. It sounds busy, and I feel a little pang of guilt that I didn't stay to help.

  "Jenny . . ."

  Michael's voice is soft, hesitant, and I sit up, pushing myself to stand while the cash register signals another sale and I think he's just distracted by customers.

  "I don't know what to say. I waited so long to talk to you, and you ignored me."

  He's right, and there's no way I can deny or excuse it.

  "I should have come over and made you tell me what was wrong. Your parents would have let me in," he laughs, but he doesn't sound amused. More like resigned.

  I won't let him take responsibility for our break up, especially not now when he has his family to worry about, and the diner.

  "No, don't do that. This is on me, Michael. I was awful to you, and it's not right for you to think it's your fault, even a little."

  Mary's voice cuts in.

  "Jenny! Get some sleep, kiddo. We need you full-time here now, don't you know?"

  Michael's laugh sounds forced as he speaks right after she does.

  "There's that, too, that I wanted to talk to you about."

  Full-time? Not a problem, but definitely going to take some getting used to if it's going to be anything like today.

  "Whatever you need is fine with me. I'm sure Ellie and Mary will let me know what to do."

  They know as much about the diner as Cathy and Mark do, so leaving any instruction for me in their hands should ease Michael's parents' minds.

  "Thanks. We really need your help."

  I can hear him take a deep breath and let it out, and wait to see if he has more to say.

  "I need your help."

  It's not what I expect from him, and I'm glad he can't see me because my smile is instantaneous. I shouldn't be smiling while we're talking about his family's difficulties and his mother's health, but knowing that he thinks of me like this makes me both relieved and happy.

  We weren't really friends before we were a couple, so maybe this is what I will have to work towards.