“Some things are simply true,” she protested. “Our viewpoint doesn’t change that. Josie’s pregnancy—”
She stopped. She hadn’t intended to bring that up.
“What about it?” His voice was even, his face bent over his work, a strand of blond hair falling onto his forehead.
“Well, she must have been pregnant in the spring of our senior year. She must have been upset, worried, trying to figure out what to do. I saw her every day. Why didn’t I realize something was wrong?”
“She didn’t want you to,” he said. “You can’t help everyone, Jennifer. Some people won’t let you.” It sounded very final. He lifted the hockey game and propped it against the wall. “There you are, all finished. Anything else I can do for you?”
He rose as he spoke, holding out his hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her effortlessly to her feet. For an instant she felt dizzy. Her eyes met his—met and held. Her breath stopped. Mason didn’t move. Even the dust motes floating in the shaft of sunlight seemed still.
“You—What did you say?” Her voice sounded unnatural to her.
He blinked, as if trying to refocus. “I asked if I could do anything else for you.”
You could open up to me. You could explain what just happened.
“Nothing, unless you’d like to come in and show the children how to use all this equipment. We’re always looking for volunteers.” That was better. Her voice sounded almost normal.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to keep looking. I’m no good with kids.” His face seemed to tense on the words.
“You never know until you try,” she said. Open up to me, Mason. Talk to me.
“I don’t think so. I’ll see you, Jennifer.” He walked out quickly, as if to deny that anything at all had just happened between them.
Mason sat at his desk a couple of days later, trying to concentrate on the latest sales reports from the Macon store. Concentrating was never easy with the massive oil painting of his father mounted on the wall above, staring down at him. It seemed to be reminding him that it was Gerald Grant II who was supposed to be sitting in that chair, not Mason.
Small wonder he preferred to work anywhere but here. He could move the portrait, of course. He toyed with that thought for a moment, even knowing it was impossible. Think how scandalized Eva Morrissey would be if he did such a thing.
He’d inherited Eva, his father’s secretary, when he inherited the business, and their working relationship had been set at a time when he’d been too young and too insecure to take a firm line with her. As a result, she felt free to criticize everything he did, including that donation to the after-school program.
Suspicious, that had been the only word for her attitude. Why would he want to do something like that? He never had before. His father never had.
That was the gold standard for Eva. What would his father have done?
Maybe that was all the more reason to make the donation. He shoved his chair back from the computer, stretching. But that wasn’t why he’d given the equipment. He knew perfectly well why. Because Jennifer had asked him to do it.
Well, so what? It was natural enough. Friends supported each other’s interests.
That sentiment was something that wouldn’t have occurred to him before the reunion. Then, he’d preferred not to move too deeply into friendships or romantic relationships. He’d kept his personal life on the surface. It was much safer that way.
Getting back in touch with the gang from college had begun to change his attitude. It had forced him to remember that guy he used to be. That kid had been naive, maybe. Guilty of a lot of mistakes. But at least he’d had some humanity.
Not entirely comfortable with the direction his thoughts were taking, he shoved his chair back and moved to one of the wide windows that looked down on Main Street. This had been his father’s office, and his father had liked overlooking what he considered his domain.
The warm spring day had brought the college students downtown in force. They sauntered along the sidewalks in groups and couples, underneath the banners mounted on light standards in navy and gold, Magnolia College colors. Where would their downtown be without the college to give it life, to say nothing of business?
He could remember being one of those kids, headed for a quick slice of Burt’s pizza or a serious talk about the nature of the universe over a cup of coffee at the Half Joe. Even now, Burt stood in the doorway of the pizza shop, his white apron pristine, surveying the downtown scene as he’d been doing for years.
A couple walked past Burt, arms linked, heads together, so absorbed in each other that the rest of the world might not exist. Burt watched them tolerantly. He’d seen young love plenty of times before.
Mason drew back from the window slightly, remembering those moments with Jennifer in the church gym. The attraction had been strong. He couldn’t deny that. Jennifer had recognized it, too. He’d seen it in the way her brown eyes widened, the way her generous mouth softened.
It was no good, of course. Jennifer wasn’t remotely like the women he usually dated. She’d want something real in a relationship, and he didn’t have anything real to give.
The door opened behind him, and he swung around, frowning. That was one of Eva’s more annoying traits, bursting in on him as if she hoped she might catch him napping or playing solitaire on the computer instead of working.
Now her eyes, sharp behind her old-fashioned half-glasses, swept the office before coming to rest on him. “Miss Pappas is here to see you. I told her you were working.” She made the words sound accusing.
Ignoring her, he strode across the office and pulled the door wide. Jennifer stood there, looking a little hesitant after hearing Eva’s greeting. Her glossy black hair was pulled back into a single braid, and she wore the khakis and cotton top that seemed to be her working uniform.
“Jennifer, please come in.” He gave Eva a pointed stare. “Thank you, Eva.”
She had no choice but to retreat, but she shot Jennifer a suspicious glance as she closed the door behind her.
“Don’t mind Eva. She’s universally rude.” He guided her to the leather visitor’s chair and perched on the desk. “It’s nice to see you.”
The conventional words were truer than he wanted to admit. He reminded himself of all the reasons why anything other than friendship wouldn’t work between them.
“I hope you don’t mind my stopping by. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”
“Believe it or not, and I sometimes have trouble believing it myself, I’m the boss here. I get to take a break whenever I want. How are the kids enjoying the sports gear?”
A smile blossomed on her face. “They’re delighted. Actually, that’s why I came. They sent you something.” She reached into the oversized bag she carried and pulled out a sheet of newsprint. “This is for you.”
He unfolded it to find colorful crayoned images
