and with a quick wave, the older couple moved on.
Chase’s smile stayed plastered in place until the two were out of sight. He leaned back in toward Jess, lowering his voice. “You know, I can deal with all the losing. I just can’t take all the sympathy.”
Jessica pursed her lips. “Well, I almost feel sorry for you.”
Chase feigned offense. “Almost?”
Jessica wagged a finger at him and said, “Hey, you’re a baseball star dating a supermodel. I am sorry, but there is only so much sympathy you get.”
“I guess nothing’s really changed around here, then,” Chase said, keeping up the front of being mildly put off. Had he expected things to change? Jess wondered what he’d really hoped to find when he came into the diner.
Jessica shrugged and said, “Yep, Mr. Swenson still paints his house purple. And the fountain in front of city hall still sprays cars that drive by, and, uh”—she smiled teasingly—“and, I guess, I am still right here where you left me.”
Chase held up a hand. “Oh, whoa, hold on. I believe it was you who broke up with me, remember?”
Before she could fire back at him, Chase’s phone lit up, displaying a picture of a smiling woman on a beach, blowing a kiss. He didn’t move to answer it, which made the flutter in Jess’s stomach start back up again.
“The girlfriend?” Jessica smiled mischievously, feeling like Wes in one of his more impish moments. “Do you call her ‘Heather’ or ‘Miss Runway’?”
She thought back to the year they had been the Spring Fling King and Queen, and he had called her “Queen Fling” for months. She hoped he hadn’t outgrown his habit of teasing. It had always made her laugh.
Chase said, “Clearly you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” He paused, seeming to remember something himself. “And I hear you’re dating Brett Thompson?” At her raised eyebrow, he explained, “My mom keeps me up-to-date on local news, like it or not. If my memory isn’t too dusty, he was a nice guy.”
Jessica said, “Still is.” Chase’s call went to voice mail, the notification popping up on his screen. The moment stretched. She wasn’t sure what else there was to talk about, but she knew that she wouldn’t mind if he stayed a bit longer.
Chase checked his watch. “Umm, I have to go. Mom’s expecting me. But you’ll be seeing me again soon because you owe me an omelet.”
Jessica watched him slide out of the booth and don his jacket, cautioning herself not to blurt out anything too mortifying. As he neared the door, she turned in her seat. “Hey, Chase?”
He stopped, turning back.
“Say hi to your folks,” she said. At his nod, she added, “And welcome home.”
Chase said, “Well, I’m only here for the week, so…” His eyes grew warmer, and she was half afraid that he was about to say something mortifying. “I will. It’s good to see you, Jess.”
“You, too,” she replied. And she meant it, more than she thought she would.
Chase smiled and left, casting a glance back as Cal strolled out from the kitchen.
“What was all that about?” Cal asked.
Jessica shook her head. “Ancient history.”
Chapter 5
The next morning, Jess had almost shaken off the impact of Chase’s visit. She’d hustled through her morning, admittedly taking a few extra minutes on her hair and makeup, checking off the list in her head of all the things she had to accomplish for the day. As she and Wesley went out the front door, she suddenly realized how quiet her son had been throughout breakfast.
Jessica steeled herself to broach the subject, bracing for more of Wesley’s eye rolling.
“I know yesterday’s practice was rough. But what do they say? If you fall off the horse, what do you do?”
“Sell the horse?”
They both giggled. At least he was laughing. That was something. She knew that baseball reminded Wes of his dad. She also knew that the disappointment he felt at Davis’s absence wasn’t anything she could take away, try as she might. Jessica swung open the front gate and ushered Wes through it onto the sidewalk.
“Listen, honey, if you don’t want to play baseball, you don’t have to play baseball. It’s okay with me.”
Wesley shook his head. “But, Mom, I do want to play! I’m just not that good.”
They faced each other on the sidewalk, and she studied him, looking for the face of her baby in the features of the quickly maturing kid in front of her. She wanted to make things easy for him, but they would have to tough this one out together.
“Well, if you want to get better, you have to practice! And for now, you have me as your coach. So, let’s go get better, okay?”
They loaded up their gear, and as she buckled her seatbelt, she ignored the urge to run by the diner to check on how business was going—and to see if Chase had stopped back for another omelet.
The chirping of birds, the buzzing of bees, the distant hum of the train that ran through town—none of these sounds woke Chase from the best sleep he’d had in months. No, he was jolted into consciousness by two things simultaneously—one was pleasant, but the other sounded like a prelude to every grounding that he’d ever known growing up in this house.
The boom of his father bellowing up the stairs made Chase’s eyes fly open, but the smile on Chase’s face had been brought about by the thought of Jessica Parker’s parting words from yesterday. “Welcome home.” They had sounded much sweeter coming from her than the way that Chase had muttered them on his drive into town.
It was way too early. Chase rolled out of the twin bed in his old room and rotated his stiff shoulder. He shuffled into his clothes and shoes and went downstairs, sticking his head out the front door to see his father standing in the driveway. His mother, Lindy Taynor, still radiant in her late fifties, stood next to Mason. She wore a colorful sweater that hurt Chase’s still-squinting eyes.
His father’s truck was half off the concrete drive, two wheels in the front yard, clearly having tried to maneuver past Chase’s car. Mason jerked a thumb toward the Mercedes, which was parked on the street, partly blocking the driveway. Chase took the hint and ran back inside to grab his keys.
Mason Taynor climbed into his truck and moved it out of the way as much as he could as his son got behind the wheel and started up the sports car. Chase slowly backed his car into the driveway. Mason slowly eased out onto the street.
Chase could hear his parents bickering, his mother walking on the driver’s side of his dad’s truck.
As Mason parked the truck and climbed out, Lindy said, “Why would you make him repark his car? He was
