Loving Cara - Page 68/76

“Jillian!” Cara yells.

“—but if you didn’t want to live with her, you should have just manned up and been honest. Grow a pair, King. If I was in Montana right now, I’d hunt you down and shove my foot so far up your ass you’d have toes for teeth!”

“Ouch,” I mutter, and grimace. “Listen to me. Cara misunderstood.”

“No, she didn’t!”

“I was talking about Kensie, Jill. Not Cara. She didn’t hear the whole conversation.” Jill grows quiet, and I can hear Cara in the background.

“What is he saying? Hang up, Jillian.”

“Do not hang up this phone.” My voice is hard, and I’ve never been so pissed in my life. “She ran because she misunderstood a conversation that didn’t include her and because I was a dick when Seth got hurt. I’m on my way, Jill.”

“What?” She sounds perfectly sober now, and I hear her stand and move away from Cara.

“Seth told me that she was on her way to you. I’m stuck in Salt Lake, but I should be there later tonight.”

She doesn’t answer for a long minute and I’m afraid she’s hung up.

“Jill?”

“I’m here. If you’re lying to me . . .”

“I’m not. Leave the front door unlocked. I’ll be there late. And, Jill?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell her—”

“No, tell her yourself. Hurry up, loverboy.”

She hangs up and I grin as I push my phone in my pocket and check the flight status on the large television screen above the windows ahead.

Delayed.

“Damn,” I murmur.

“You’re trying to get to your girl.” An older woman sitting opposite me is knitting a red scarf and smiles at me.

“Yeah.”

“Must be pretty important.” She pushes the yarn down the needle.

“It is.”

“My daughter had a baby yesterday, and I’m on my way to spend time with her and her family.” I’m surprised. She doesn’t look old enough to be a grandmother. She smiles again, and I take a deep breath and sit back, giving her my attention.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She leans down and rifles through her large yellow carry-on and comes out with two candy bars. “Snickers?”

“Thanks.” I accept the candy and take a big bite, realizing how hungry I am.

“I wish my Richard were here to see our first grandbaby,” she murmurs quietly, her eyes on her candy bar. “He passed away a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She nods and then meets my gaze again. “Time goes so fast. I know you probably hear that all the time, but it’s true. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to have my Richard here to fight with me again.” Her smile is sad as she watches me, and I just don’t know what to say. “Do you know what would always work to soften me up when I was mad at him?” she asks with a grin.

“Chocolate?” I hold up my candy wrapper.

“No.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Just an honest apology. It’s surprising how hard it is to say the words I’m sorry. When we were young, he was so damn stubborn. But he finally learned that all he had to do was say he was sorry.”

“I was a jerk yesterday.”

“It happens.” She shrugs and returns to her knitting.

“But I’m pissed at her too.” I clench my hands into fists.

“Well, you wouldn’t love her if you weren’t.”

“I wish the weather would break.” I scowl and watch the rain outside.

“You’ll get there when you’re supposed to get there.”

I just pray I’m not too late.

Chapter Seventeen

CARA

“What the hell did you just do?” I demand as Jill stumbles back into her living room, weaving through the plethora of shopping bags scattered about from today’s shopping trip.

According to Jill, all worries can be solved with retail therapy.

“I told him off.” She refills both our wineglasses.

“You had to leave the room to do it?” I sip the sweet white Moscato.

“I had to pee.”

“So you peed while you told him off?” I giggle.

“He didn’t know.” She waves me off and takes a long drink. “I know it’s shitty circumstances, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. I miss you. When are you moving home?”

Jill bites her lip and stares down into her glass.

“Jilly?”

“I’m thinking about moving home soon, actually.”

“Really?” I screech, and jump up and down on the cushions of her couch. “Why? When?”

“In the next few weeks.” She shrugs and pulls her legs up under her.

“Spill.”

“Todd and his new wife are pregnant,” she whispers, and blinks tears away as she drinks her wine, stunning me into silence. “Five years,” she murmurs. “We tried to have a baby for five years, Cara.”

“I know.” I take her hand in mine and squeeze.

“All those medications and hormones and trips to the doctors.” She sighs and clenches her eyes shut. “I don’t know how many times I was on my back, feet in stirrups, for all of LA County to see. And not once could anyone tell me why I couldn’t get pregnant.”