was supper, a hot bath, and to get to bed early.
The image of herself and Jace sprawled on the mattress of that mahogany monster of a bed burned through her mind. Her soft mouth turned down in disapproval as she took her place at the dinner table.
Justin said grace, throwing in his request for a dog at the end. Rebecca gave him a look of reproach as she dished up his plate.
It wasn’t difficult for her to steer the conversation away from Jace during dinner. Gregarious and outgoing, Justin always had a wealth of stories to relate at the end of the day.
Her father was less cooperative, but he let the subject die when she asked him about his latest project. Since he’d retired from teaching, he had spent much of his time in the basement working on computer-controlled security systems and household gadgets.
His interest in inventing had surfaced years ago, Rebecca remembered, when ALS had been steadily eroding her mother’s physical abilities. He had come up with little mechanical wizards to make Gabrielle’s life easier or simply to bring a smile to her lovely face. Now he worked on his inventions for enjoyment and to keep his tack-sharp mind active.
His newest project was a robot. The programming was going well, he informed her, but there were mechanical bugs to be worked out yet.
“Jace was always good with his hands,” Hugh reflected. “Mechanically speaking, that is. Maybe I’ll give him a call since he’s going to have some free time.”
Rebecca shot him a look that clearly branded him a traitor.
“You’re too hard on the boy.”
“The operative word there being ‘boy,’ as in ‘has yet to grow up,’” she said.
Her father leaned his elbows on the table and pinned her with the stern gaze that had made more than one Notre Dame student squirm in his seat over the years. “You’re too hard on people in general, daughter, yourself included. What happened with you and Jace happened long ago. You were both little more than kids. Don’t you think it’s time to forgive and forget?”
She had worked hard to forget. Until today she would have said she had forgotten. But it seemed she hadn’t let go of the memory, she had simply buried it.
As for forgiveness, that was something that had never come easily to her. Life had rules. People were supposed to follow them. It had always seemed simple to her. Jace had broken the rules. She had loved him with all her young girl’s heart. He had taken her heart and broken it. How could she forgive him? Why should she?
These questions haunted her all evening, through Justin’s bath and bedtime right up to her own. The questions turned over and around in her brain until she became impatient with the whole process.
Dressed in her prim cotton nightgown and her reading glasses, she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen off her writing desk and settled herself in bed. With bold strokes of the pen, she made a list of the things that were bothering her, which eventually boiled down to two words: Jace Cooper. Next she made a list of her options in dealing with the problem, then eliminated the ones that didn’t appeal to her.
The idea that was left on the page was the one that made the most sense: Put the past behind you and treat Jace Cooper as you would treat any other patient or acquaintance. You don’t want to get involved, so don’t get involved.
She congratulated herself. This was simple, this was logical, this was the intelligent way to deal with the situation. Setting her glasses and the tablet on the night table, she turned out the light and pulled the covers up around her.
Through her lace-framed window she could see across the alley to the back side of Muriel Marquardt’s house. A single light burned in the window of one downstairs room near the back porch.
In the dark, with her logical pad and pen out of sight, Rebecca couldn’t stop herself from wondering what Jace was still doing up. Was he in pain? Was he lonely? Was he thinking about her?
She
The image of herself and Jace sprawled on the mattress of that mahogany monster of a bed burned through her mind. Her soft mouth turned down in disapproval as she took her place at the dinner table.
Justin said grace, throwing in his request for a dog at the end. Rebecca gave him a look of reproach as she dished up his plate.
It wasn’t difficult for her to steer the conversation away from Jace during dinner. Gregarious and outgoing, Justin always had a wealth of stories to relate at the end of the day.
Her father was less cooperative, but he let the subject die when she asked him about his latest project. Since he’d retired from teaching, he had spent much of his time in the basement working on computer-controlled security systems and household gadgets.
His interest in inventing had surfaced years ago, Rebecca remembered, when ALS had been steadily eroding her mother’s physical abilities. He had come up with little mechanical wizards to make Gabrielle’s life easier or simply to bring a smile to her lovely face. Now he worked on his inventions for enjoyment and to keep his tack-sharp mind active.
His newest project was a robot. The programming was going well, he informed her, but there were mechanical bugs to be worked out yet.
“Jace was always good with his hands,” Hugh reflected. “Mechanically speaking, that is. Maybe I’ll give him a call since he’s going to have some free time.”
Rebecca shot him a look that clearly branded him a traitor.
“You’re too hard on the boy.”
“The operative word there being ‘boy,’ as in ‘has yet to grow up,’” she said.
Her father leaned his elbows on the table and pinned her with the stern gaze that had made more than one Notre Dame student squirm in his seat over the years. “You’re too hard on people in general, daughter, yourself included. What happened with you and Jace happened long ago. You were both little more than kids. Don’t you think it’s time to forgive and forget?”
She had worked hard to forget. Until today she would have said she had forgotten. But it seemed she hadn’t let go of the memory, she had simply buried it.
As for forgiveness, that was something that had never come easily to her. Life had rules. People were supposed to follow them. It had always seemed simple to her. Jace had broken the rules. She had loved him with all her young girl’s heart. He had taken her heart and broken it. How could she forgive him? Why should she?
These questions haunted her all evening, through Justin’s bath and bedtime right up to her own. The questions turned over and around in her brain until she became impatient with the whole process.
Dressed in her prim cotton nightgown and her reading glasses, she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen off her writing desk and settled herself in bed. With bold strokes of the pen, she made a list of the things that were bothering her, which eventually boiled down to two words: Jace Cooper. Next she made a list of her options in dealing with the problem, then eliminated the ones that didn’t appeal to her.
The idea that was left on the page was the one that made the most sense: Put the past behind you and treat Jace Cooper as you would treat any other patient or acquaintance. You don’t want to get involved, so don’t get involved.
She congratulated herself. This was simple, this was logical, this was the intelligent way to deal with the situation. Setting her glasses and the tablet on the night table, she turned out the light and pulled the covers up around her.
Through her lace-framed window she could see across the alley to the back side of Muriel Marquardt’s house. A single light burned in the window of one downstairs room near the back porch.
In the dark, with her logical pad and pen out of sight, Rebecca couldn’t stop herself from wondering what Jace was still doing up. Was he in pain? Was he lonely? Was he thinking about her?
She
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