More Than Friends by Susan Mallery Page B

gone, concealed behind a polite mask. “Sorry. Truce.” He finished his cocoa and set the mug on the table. “So, what’s been going on with your family? Your dad still raising hell with the union?”
    “You bet. Although he’s mellowed in the last few years. I think Anne’s kids helped that process.”
    She slid the food on a plate and set it in front of him. Just as she reached to pick up his empty mug, he started to hand it to her. Her gaze fell upon his left wrist and the beaten-up old watch he wore. Deep inside, a knot tightened, then pressed against her heart. After all these years, he still had the watch.
    She remembered that time like it was yesterday. Chase’s birthday was in early November. She’d spent a whole summer vacation baby-sitting for the Van Ross kids, suffering their tantrums and wild stunts. Every hard-earned cent had been carefully saved. Then, in late October, her older sister, Anne, had driven her into the city and she’d bought that watch for Chase’s birthday. Back then, seventy dollars had been all the money in the world.
    When she’d given it to him, meticulously wrapped in floral paper with a store-bought bow, she’d been shaking so hard, she’d been afraid she’d throw up. He’d known, she remembered with a sad half smile. He’d seen that the gift was more than a watch, it was also her heart.
    That had been the afternoon they’d admitted their love for each other. That had been the afternoon they’d begun planning their future together. The afternoon she’d realized there would never be another man for her. No matter what happened, or how much time they spent apart, she’d only ever love him.
    “Jenny?”
    “What? Oh.” She stared at the mug she was holding, wondering if she had the courage to ask why he still wore the watch. She didn’t allow herself to believe it had any sentimental value. “Let me fix you another cup.”
    “You feeling okay?”
    “Yes. I was just, uh, thinking.” Jenny pulled open a cupboard, grimacing when the handle came off in her hand. “This place needs an overhaul.”
    As he took a bite of toast, he looked around the tiny kitchen. “And about two thousand more square feet. It’s like a dollhouse.”
    “Only to giants. It suits me perfectly.”
    He cut into the omelette. “You live here alone?”
    “Yes. I rent it. The old lady who used to live here went to stay with her daughter. The family isn’t sure whether to fix it up or sell it. In the meantime, the rent is cheap and I’m close to the mill and my family.” She shrugged and stirred the cocoa. “When it rains, I have to put out about five buckets, the porch swing sticks and the railings are coming apart, but I still like it.”
    “Why?”
    “It’s mine. My first place and all that. Alec and I had talked about buying a house, but it didn’t work out and I decided to stay here.”
    “Alec?” He said the name without any emotion at all.
    Jenny took a breath and faced the table. “My ex-fiancé.”
    “What happened?” He calmly spread the jam on his second slice of toast; nothing in his face gave away what he was feeling, but she thought she heard a hint of relief in his voice. Hope fluttered in her chest. Foolish hope, she thought, squashing it with a large dose of reality. Chase was only in Harrisville because his father was in the hospital. If she’d meant anything to him over the years, he would have contacted her. He hadn’t. End of story.
    She watched as he finished off the omelette. It gave her time to figure out how to condense her relationship with Alec into one or two sentences.
    “What usually happens. We grew apart, realized that we didn’t love each other. Nothing spectacular.”
    “Did he live here with you?”
    Her first instinct was to tell him the answer was none of his business. Her second was that the truth might serve as protection for her fragile heart. “Yes. For about two years.”
    “I see.”
    “What about you, Chase? Is there a Mrs. Jackson