Nola walked ahead of the group and turned left into the middle arch, disappearing from view. I hurried after her, thinking she might have spotted Jack, but stopped when I saw her standing under one of the many ancient live oaks scattered across the Cistern Yard, staring down at her phone.
Fighting back my disappointment, I turned to wait for the rest of the group but instead found myself facing Jack. He stood three feet away, nonchalantly leaning against a tree as if seeing his estranged wife was something he did on a regular basis. Despite my instinct to step forward and throw my arms around him, I held myself back, aware of the approaching group and the certainty that Jack wouldn’t welcome an embrace from me. I don’t think I could have stood the rejection.
“Red?” he asked in greeting, his eyes not giving anything away. I hoped he was remembering how he liked me in red and how a particular red dress had been instrumental in conceiving the twins.
It took me a moment to find a reply that didn’t sound pitiful or anything like begging. Both had been tried and had equally failed, so I needed to move on. I swallowed. “I hoped it would keep me warm.” I gave an exaggerated shiver.
A corner of his mouth lifted and my heart did that little squeezing thing it usually did when I was near him. “It’s almost seventy degrees, Mellie. You’re the only person I know who thinks seventy is freezing.”
He pushed away from the tree and took a step toward me. “You’re looking well.”
While I silently congratulated myself for making the extra effort in getting dressed, which included shaving my legs and plucking eyebrows most werewolves would have envied, I waited for him to say more. I missed you. I can’t live without you. I want to come back.
When his expression began to change into one of concern at my silence, I blurted out, “You’re wearing a blue shirt.”
Either I was having a stroke or Jayne’s awkwardness around attractive men had somehow managed to attach itself to me. His eyes widened.
“Dad!” Nola shouted as she jogged toward us before allowing herself to be embraced by her father. She stepped back quickly to show everyone that she was too sophisticated for hugs while I wished I could exchange an entire commission to trade places.
After greetings and handshakes, we turned as a group to look up at Porter’s Lodge, taking in its triple arches and Doric columns. Greek letters stood out in bas-relief—a term I’d learned from Sophie—across the top of the middle arch.
I dug into my handbag for my carefully inscribed notes tucked next to my printed spreadsheet, but before I could open them, Jack said, “?‘Know thyself.’?”
“I didn’t know you knew Greek,” I said.
Cool blue eyes settled on me. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Mellie.” He paused, then leaned closer. “You’re not the only one who knows how to Google.” He began to walk past me but paused to look back, a partial grin on his face. “I’m glad you thought to bring a spreadsheet. With Nola’s list of about twenty colleges, we need something to keep it all straight.”
Motionless, I stared at him, wondering if he’d just said something nice to me and if I should ask him to repeat it to be sure. He stared back at me without moving, as if waiting for something to happen, then indicated the departing group with a nod.
“Oh,” I said, feeling like the dorky girl in high school being asked to join the popular lunch table.
We walked a bit behind everyone, with Nola occasionally glancing at us over her shoulder.
“Your cast is gone,” I pointed out, trying to make conversation, then immediately regretting my choice of topic.
“Yeah. It is. Nice to have that particular reminder removed.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “We need to talk.”
My heart jumped. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that. I completely agree. There’s so much we left unsaid.” I hushed my inner caution and instead reminded myself that Jack had just complimented me. As if that meant anything at all. “I miss the children when they’re not with me,” I blurted out. “And I know they want us together, too. I’ve kept your chest of drawers and your side of the closet empty, so it shouldn’t—”
“About Marc and his movie,” he said, cutting me off.
“Oh. Right.” I tried to hide my disappointment and forced my thoughts onto another track. I swallowed. “Jayne came to see me this morning to tell me that Rebecca and Marc want to set up a meeting with us. He’s aware of the deal offered via our lawyer.”
“I know. I ran into Rich Kobylt at the hardware store yesterday,” he said, referring to the plumber/handyman we’d been keeping fully employed since I’d first inherited the house on Tradd Street. Reliable and a hard worker, he also had the dubious distinction of possessing a sixth sense. “He’s been doing some work for Marc and Rebecca and overheard Rebecca’s conversation with Jayne. He thought we should know. He also felt the need to tell me that we shouldn’t let Marc within a football field’s length of our house.”
I raised my eyebrows, distracted by the use of the word “our” before “house.” If he still considered it ours, then according to my own calculations, all was not lost.
“I couldn’t believe it,” Jack said.
“That they want to meet with us?”
“No, that Rich Kobylt would offer his opinion like he’s a member of the family.”
“Well, he almost is. He’s been practically living in the house as long as I have, and he was the one who convinced Nola not to dye her hair blue, remember.”
Jack raised his eyebrow. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Jayne said they want to meet at my office—on neutral ground. We pick the day and time.”
“There’s no need for a meeting, Mellie. We have the funds to fight this in a court of law if we have to. We have the funds now. The only reason I’d want to meet with Marc is to tell him where he can put his movie, and I can do that over the phone.”
“But don’t you think at least one of us should meet with them, see what they have to say?”
“No, I don’t.” His eyes narrowed. “Unless you’re planning on meeting with them anyway?”