Jen sat on the side of her bed the next morning, her sister’s words floating above her as she held her phone and tried to wake up. The message, when received, had her bolting from the pillow. “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see her again.”

“Neither can I. But I need a favor. Instead of meeting us, can you accompany Emily to Symphony Hall tonight?”

Emily’s concert. A very big deal. “Of course.”

“I…I feel awful not going with her, but Brianna needs me, too.”

“She certainly does! Don’t think twice about it. Emily can even stay overnight at my place.”

“Thanks, but she’ll probably want to come home. She’s funny that way. Can’t wait to get to school, but—and this worries me—she’s happiest when she’s alone and practicing her violin.”

Nothing new there. “Lis—she’s just being herself. And she’s so good with that fiddle. Practicing is a one-person job.”

“I know, I know. But I’m not sure. Heck, I’m not sure of anything. Maybe my hormones are out of whack now. Sometimes I wonder if Emily still thinks Mom can hear her in heaven? Is that why she’s relentless with her playing? She’s not seven years old anymore!”

Goosebumps popped up on Jen’s skin. “She can’t believe that now.” A kaleidoscope of family memories invaded her mind, finally bringing her to the prior night’s conversation at Maguire’s.

“Maybe we’re all carrying around a piece of the past,” she said softly. “You, me, Em, our brothers. Maybe it doesn’t go away, and we just deal with it the best we can.”

A long, low whistle came through the phone. “Quite the philosopher so early in the morning.”

Jen chuckled. “I try.” But did she? For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure.

“Mike and I don’t worry about you anymore. You figured out what you wanted and never looked back.”

Maybe, where Doug was concerned. “Thanks, but it was a no-brainer. Finance and I are a natural fit.”

“Don’t I know it! Oh…Bobby’s calling me. See you later.”

A natural fit, Jen thought, as she disconnected. For the first time in her adult life, she wondered if her career was enough. Her family? Friends? Her choral group?

She’d never questioned her choices. But since Doug had reappeared only a week ago, he’d turned her life into one big question mark.

Chapter 6

Friday night with Jen and her friends wasn’t enough. His nightly phone calls to her were good, but not good enough either. He wanted more. He needed more.

On Saturday morning, Doug started a small pot of coffee and glanced at his calendar. Every box was filling up. The new play required not only rehearsals but meetings with Jake about publicity and community sponsors. He had to prepare for the new semester at BU. He had ideas for his advanced students that he wanted to implement himself. And of course, a revision to Straight from the Heart. All important goals, but not more important than his first priority: Jen.

He poured the coffee into his mug and sipped. He wanted to build his relationship with her. Built it slowly, with trust. Court her! He smiled, first, at his old-fashioned word choice, and second, because he realized that “courting” was essentially what the hero of his novel had decided to do while searching for his ending. Not too surprising when he’d based the heroine on Jen.

Picking up his cell, he pressed her number.

“Hey, Doug. I’m just out of the shower. Can I call you back?”

Shower? Images of a glorious, naked Jen bombarded him, with her long legs, soft breasts—but he bit his tongue. “Absolutely. I’ll be…ah…waiting.”

Dreaming.

But just as Friday nights and nightly calls weren’t enough, dreaming wasn’t enough either. He answered the phone on the first ring. “It’s Saturday,” he said.

“Let’s spend the day together. Wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do. I can pick you up in thirty minutes.”

Silence. Then, “I’m sorry, Doug. The twins are back, and Emily’s got her concert tonight. Little Brianna’s coming home today too. I’m really busy…and—and…

well you know the routine with my family. Everything’s happening at once.”

“I’ll take you and Emily to the concert tonight,” he responded.

“You haven’t heard anything I just said.”

“I’m ignoring it. While I’d really like to spend the entire day with you, I’m also trying to show some understanding. Don’t I get points for that?”

He heard a reluctant laugh and smiled. Humor. Humor always worked.

“You’d need a ticket for tonight. The concert’s at Symphony Hall, a really big deal, and Emily…well, she might be as highly strung as her violin. Uh…that’s a family joke…sort of.”

“Very funny. I’m glad you shared it. And don’t be sorry when you realize what you said.” Sharing a family joke was a good sign—almost like in the old days.

“I’m sorry already. See you at five o’clock. At the house.”

“I’ll be there.”

He hung up and wanted to cheer. Better than sharing that joke, she’d just invited him to her most precious place. A place he hadn’t entered in five years. Her family’s home. That was the upside. The downside? How would he be received?

Shrugging, he searched for the Symphony Hall website. He couldn’t control how Jen’s siblings felt about him reappearing, but he could buy a last-minute ticket to Emily’s concert.

##

Doug immediately spotted the limousine as he approached the house on Beacon Street. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Mike Brennan would make sure Emily’s special night was special in all ways. And safe, too. He had to admit the guy had taken on a load of responsibility when he’d married his wife.

Doug had liked the man when they’d first met. After learning Doug was a writer, Mike had extended his hand, saying “Welcome to my world, Doug, where you either have what it takes or you don’t.”

“Thanks. I intend to make my own kind of touchdowns.”

He recalled that conversation and stood a little taller as he approached the door.

Whatever his reception, Jen was worth it.

The door swung wide before he could knock. And there stood Jennifer Grace Delaney. Stunning. Long sparkly earrings, a black dress that hugged her figure and strappy, high-heeled sandals. The woman had legs. Did she ever. He took it all in with a glance and then focused on her eyes. Her violet eyes shone, then darkened as she looked up at him.

“You clean up pretty well, Doug….”

His reservations melted as he burst into laughter. “Glad you approve. I did learn a little something in New York.”

“Well, come in, come in.” She stepped back, and he walked into familiar territory—with a twist. No one matched his memories in the small crowd that had gathered. Two identical-looking young men approached him, same blonde hair, green eyes, same walk and body movement. Dressed up for a night out.

“There’s no way I can distinguish between you two,” Doug said, extending his hand. “But it’s amazing to see the grown-up version of the boys I once knew.”