Moments We Forget Page 5

  “Maybe I need to treat cancer like you treat Trent.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Cancer doesn’t get to ruin the rest of my life—even if it’s ruined my body . . . and my wedding plans . . . and now it’s taken my job.”

  Harper’s laughter lightened the mood. “I like the way you’re talking.”

  “Yeah, because I sound like you.”

  “Well, you’re trying to sound like me. It’s gonna take some practice to get it right.”

  Now our laughter fused together—and I couldn’t help but glance over and see the couple smiling as they watched us. Two best friends having a fun night out.

  The laughter lingered in my mind as I returned home later that night, only to be dispersed by Winston’s desperate cries from his crate upstairs.

  “Oh, poor puppy!” I dropped my purse as I scrambled up to the second bedroom to let him out, bracing as he jumped up and then leading him down and through the should-have-been-dismantled kitchen. “Let’s go outside.”

  Tomorrow. Zach had promised the workers would show up tomorrow and start taking the kitchen apart.

  Change . . . change . . . change . . . and yet getting nowhere fast.

  And Geoff wasn’t even here so I could talk to him about how my life had fallen apart. Again.

  It was after ten, and I was alone.

  Scratching at the back door reminded me that no, I wasn’t alone. Winston was here. I swooped him up into my arms, cradling him close as he nuzzled my neck.

  “What do you think, Winston?” I scratched behind his ears. “What should I do? Is it time for the ‘Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference’ quote?”

  If talking to a dog wasn’t ridiculous, quoting Winston Churchill to him certainly was—but then again, the British statesman was his namesake.

  “No comment?” Winston snuck a quick lick across my face. “You up for a movie, then?”

  I settled on the couch, Winston curling into my lap as I restarted What’s Up, Doc? where I’d stopped it last night, right when Barbra Streisand told Ryan O’Neal to meet her under the table and then said, “Oh, my goodness! There goes my napkin!”

  Maybe laughter was the best medicine.

  If nothing else, the romantic comedy entertained my faithful furry companion and me while I waited for my husband to come home. Maybe by listening to some scripted witty repartee, I’d figure out how to tell Geoff that I was now unemployed.

  JOHANNA BENT OVER and ran the brush through her hair, the ends falling to just past her shoulders when she stood back up. She tugged at the bottom of her white cotton top and checked her watch. She still had an hour before her Pilates class started.

  The shower in the master bathroom stopped as she straightened the comforter on the bed, settling the pillows just so. By the time she’d retrieved two white china cups of French-press coffee—one black, one with real cream—Beckett was in her bedroom, his short hair still damp, wearing his blue uniform pants and buttoning up his starched blue shirt.

  “Morning.”

  “I brought you coffee.”

  “Thank you.” Beckett set his mug on her dresser, leaning in to kiss her neck, his just-showered scent teasing her. “Too bad we didn’t talk about working out together today.”

  “Since you were up at 5:30 for a run and I’m going to a Pilates class, it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

  “Your schedule is a bit more flexible than mine right now.” He slipped his belt through the pant loops. Buckled it. “I’ve got to go into the office, do some final prep for the Corona meeting. Just a few weeks to go.”

  Johanna sipped her coffee, her nails tapping against the side of the cup. No barista, no matter how well trained, made coffee better than she did. “Which means we’ll be seeing even less of each other than we are now.”

  “Like I said when I got reassigned to Colorado, I could have just moved in with you.”

  “And as I pointed out, there was no space here to accommodate your furniture and clothes and who knows what else on such short notice. And we certainly didn’t have time to house hunt.”

  “But both of us living in the Springs does have its advantages.” Beckett pulled her close, his kiss reminiscent of their time together last night.

  Johanna allowed herself to rest in his arms. To enjoy this moment of closeness before they went their separate ways. “I suppose at some point I’ll meet the superintendent and get a chance to say thank you—even if you’re only here for a year.”

  Beckett released her, turning to the mirror over her dresser while he put on his tie, his grin reflected back at her. “Who knows? We could be married by the time I go to Alabama next year.”

  Here they were again, both living their lives single, but always coming back around to the question of when they were going to get married. Beckett mentioned it. She mentioned it. But they never settled on a date. A location. A time. Never determined just how, exactly, they were finally going to become Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher-Sager.

  Beckett was handsome, the kind of man she’d always imagined marrying, with his dark hair and dark eyes and athletic build. But why did it seem as if she preferred dating him more than she wanted to marry him? She’d said yes to the engagement but could never get past that one “yes” to finalizing their commitment with an “I do.”

  Or was Beckett the one who always seemed to back away?

  “How about if we talk dates once I get my promotion?” She came up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist. When he turned to face her, she stole another kiss that became a second and a third until she broke away with a laugh. “Enough. You have to go to work.”

  She moved to stand in the doorway, smoothing her hair back into place, while Beckett sat on the bed and put on his shoes.

  “Any idea when the hospital administration is going to tell you that you’ve got the job for real?”

  “It’s been six months since they started looking for a new pharmacy director. Rumors are flying that they’ve made up their minds, so I’m expecting an official job offer any day now.”

  “And you’ll take it?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I’ll take it. I deserve it.” She led the way to the kitchen, talking over her shoulder, carrying their coffee cups. “But I also know what I’m worth, so I’m going to negotiate for a better salary and benefits package. And I’d like some say in who they choose to be my assistant.”

  “First a promotion. Then a wedding. Good planning.”

  Everything in proper order—that’s the way she liked it. She’d get settled in her new job, and then she’d more easily convince Beckett to get stationed back in Colorado. To retire here in a few years. And his being stationed here now—seeing all the advantages of living in Colorado—would only help him make that decision.

  He couldn’t miss the beautiful view of the Front Range, of Pikes Peak, every day when he drove into work. And the weather—even now, the cool breeze blowing in from the open window in her living room was a reminder of how they’d slept with her window open last night, another advantage of Colorado living. Sure, she liked to travel, but she liked coming home. Liked telling people she was a Colorado native.

  “Hey—how did that book club thing go with your sisters?” Beckett found one of the glass jars of overnight oats she’d made last night, thanking her when she handed him a spoon and napkin.

  “It was fine, but I don’t think it’ll last.” She sat beside him at the small kitchen bar. Of course Beckett would ask about the book club a week later. She was surprised he’d remembered it at all.

  “Why not?”

  “I said good-bye to assigned reading when I got my doctorate.”

  “Then why did you agree to do it?”

  “Because Jillian and Payton wanted to give it a try. So I had to say yes, didn’t I?”

  “Johanna, you never do anything you don’t want to do.”

  Beckett was right. She didn’t.

  “They
want a reason to get together more often.” Johanna sipped her coffee. “This was it. So I agreed.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want to get together with your sisters more often?”

  “Not to sit around and drink coffee and talk about a book I have to read, no.”

  “Okay. Why would you get together with your sisters?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  Beckett shrugged, offering her a lazy grin. “It’s a question, that’s all. Are you going to answer it?”

  “I get together with Jillian and Payton for family things. Birthdays. Holidays. Football games at my parents’.”

  “Required things, then.”

  “I guess so. Traditions. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “I didn’t say there was, Johanna.”

  Was Beckett analyzing her relationships with her sisters? Or was he just making conversation that she didn’t really have time for? They so rarely talked about family—his family or her family. Or if they wanted to have a family—children—once they got married.

  She wore his ring but didn’t know a lot of specifics about Beckett. And they’d been together for eight years.

  Not that she was worried. They were fine. And she was not a worrier. Maybe their relationship was different than some couples’. Different from Jillian and Geoff’s. From Payton and Zach’s—if they were even in a relationship. Why Payton would want a relationship with him, she’d never understand. She and Beckett had their own way of doing things—and it worked.

  Beckett finished breakfast, offering her a quick kiss and a “Have fun at Pilates” as he left.

  “You have fun at work.”

  He paused just outside the door. “Don’t count on me for dinner. I’ll text or call and let you know what’s going on.”

  “That’s fine. I understand.”

  “You always do. That’s one reason why we’re such a good team.”

  See. Even Beckett knew it.

  “No pressure . . .” Johanna raised her right hand, palm upturned.

  “. . . and plenty of space.” Beckett took her hand, pulling her close.

  They both laughed at their little relationship motto. Kissed. Said good-bye again.

  She and Beckett were like some couple in a romance movie. The perfect couple who had everything going for them and no problems to deal with because they got along so well. When something could have gone wrong, fate had intervened and brought Beckett to Colorado instead of separating them for another year.

  Beckett looked trim, self-assured, as he got into his restored Datsun 280zx—not the most practical car for Colorado. There was something about a man in uniform she’d always liked.

  “I’m Beckett Sager. And you’re . . . ?”

  “Not sure I’m going to tell you my name.” Johanna waited to see what the man would say next.

  “Fair enough. Play it safe when you first meet a man at Starbucks and you’re from out of town.”

  “How do you know I don’t live in Washington, DC?” They stepped forward with the line as customers placed their orders, their conversation blending with everyone else’s, the background music, and the whir of blenders and coffee bean grinders.

  “Because the first time I saw you here, you had a suitcase. I figure you’re traveling, like I am.” When she didn’t respond, he chuckled. “You can at least tell me if I’m correct.”

  That wouldn’t do any harm. “You’re correct.”

  “And I’m TDY—that’s military lingo for being on a business trip. I’m in the Air Force, stationed in Turkey.”

  “Turkey? Now that’s interesting . . . but the uniform gave you away as far as being in the military.”

  “Yeah, I’m only a ten-minute missile flight from Syria, Russia, and Iraq. And I still don’t know your name or what you do.”

  “Johanna—and yes, I’m attending a business conference.”

  He’d bought her coffee. Convinced her to have dinner with him that night. And they’d fallen into a long-distance relationship . . . and in love—love that had lasted eight years.

  Johanna closed the front door. She’d been staring at Beckett’s empty parking space. Despite such an innocuous beginning as meeting at a coffee shop while they were both out of town on business, they’d stayed together for longer than some couples stayed married. So why was she glad to see him leave this morning?

  If she were being honest, there were days since Beckett had arrived when she’d wanted to call his boss and ask him why, why did he have to request Beckett for this assignment? Couldn’t he have just left their lives alone? Let Beckett go to Alabama as they’d planned?

  Was she so used to a long-distance relationship that she couldn’t handle her fiancé in the same state—no, in the same city?

  The possibility didn’t bode well for their marriage. After the wedding, Beckett wouldn’t just be spending the night at her house on occasion.

  It was as if she’d gotten so used to Beckett being gone—being the Invisible Man, as Payton had once called him—that she didn’t know how to adapt to him being here, face-to-face, up close and so personal all the time.

  Johanna reached for her phone. Maybe Jillian could help her figure this all out.

  No.

  Her younger sister wouldn’t understand. For all her struggles, she was thrilled to be married.

  And Jill also wasn’t so thrilled with her right now.

  Besides, according to the time on her phone, she was going to be late to class if she didn’t leave now.

  She’d feel better once she worked out.

  And once she got her promotion.

  Somebody was tearing my house apart—and, from the laughter woven through all the pounding against the backdrop of country music playing on a radio, they enjoyed destroying someone else’s property.

  Even as I buried my head beneath my pillow to escape the racket, the floor—and my bed—shook again. Okay. Time to give up on sleeping, get up, and go investigate.

  “Geoff . . .” My pillow muffled my voice, but lifting it off my face revealed Geoff wouldn’t be running to the rescue because his side of the bed was empty. That either meant my husband had not come home last night, which was highly unlikely no matter how busy he was with work, or that somehow I had slept through him kissing me hello last night and then kissing me good-bye this morning.

  I shoved my pillow aside. Along with everything else, I was failing this whole newlywed thing, too. I dragged myself out of bed, changed from my pajamas into sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, brushed my teeth, and then ran my fingers through my hair. All the while, the banging, scraping, and laughter continued. Once outside my bedroom, Winston’s yips and whines added another note to the noise until I released him from his kennel in the other bedroom.

  Downstairs, Zach and a trio of workmen attacked the wall that separated the kitchen and the dining room. Armed with sledgehammers and crowbars, their faces obscured behind clear protective glasses, they were dismantling the outdated wooden cabinets that one of the previous owners had decided to paint a pale yellow—or as Geoff dubbed it, “dusty canary.”

  With a sharp bark, Winston alerted Zach to my presence, and he paused, wiping the back of his arm across his forehead, leaving behind a smear of dust. “Hey, Jillian. Sorry about the noise.”

  “No problem.”

  “Well, it’s not even eight thirty, and we’re off to a good start.”

  “Did Geoff let you in?”

  “No. He was already gone when we got here. Which is why you gave me a key, remember?” He pulled a glove off one hand with his teeth, retrieving something from his back pocket. “I found this on one of the counters.”

  I scanned the note. “Looks like he’s at CrossFit.”

  Zach rested his hands on the leather tool belt on his hips. “You okay, Jillian?”

  “Hmmm? Sure. I’m fine. Even though I knew this was going to happen, it’s still a bit of a shock to see the kitchen getting torn up like this.”


  “I can understand that.” Zach grinned, shoving his protective eyewear onto his forehead. “But remember, all of this mess is the first step to getting your dream kitchen.”

  “Right. I’ll keep telling myself that.” I nodded to the other guys, who were taking a break, waiting for Zach and me to stop talking. “Well, obviously, I’m interrupting. I think I’ll take Winston for a walk.”

  “Let me introduce you to the guys—you’ll be seeing them again over the next few weeks.”

  “Sure. That’d be great.”

  After saying hello to the team and trying hard to act like I was remembering names I knew I’d forget, I made my way upstairs, the banging resuming behind me. Winston shook in my arms, licking my face.

  “Sorry, Winnie. It’s a lot of noise.” I cuddled him close. “Want to go for a walk?”

  At my words, Winston tried to wiggle out of my arms.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Within minutes, I’d gathered his leash and slipped on a light jacket.

  I could be the responsible one—even if all I was doing was taking a dog for a walk. Of course, it was early yet. The fatigue would find me soon enough.

  A cloudless Colorado blue sky—one of my favorite things about living in my home state—and the bit of coolness lingering in the air made me thankful I’d worn my Windbreaker. Winston’s steps doubled mine as he moved back and forth in front of me, sniffing the grass on both sides of the sidewalk. My slight headache receded as I left the workmen and the noise and the dust behind. For as long as the weather stayed nice, Winston and I would be enjoying multiple walks each day.

  It wasn’t odd to be home today because it was Saturday. Monday would be an adjustment. But even before I thought about being home during the week, I needed to tell Geoff that I’d lost my job. I should have told him already, but exhaustion ran my life and his work schedule ran his. It would be midmorning by the time he got home and showered, and he still wouldn’t know I’d been fired.

  “Geoff, I need to tell you something.” I practiced the words out loud as I walked through the neighborhood, past other older-model homes like ours, allowing Winston to wander where he would on the leash.