Déjà Vu All Over Again Read online

  “Sweetie, I…you need to know who—”

  He held his palm up. “No, wait, let me finish.” He took a deep breath. “I hired someone to track him down. I spoke with my grandmother who wanted to drive right here when she heard I lived ten hours away. That didn’t seem like a great idea for an older woman. Anyway, she gave me my father’s phone number.”

  Sally shook her head. Nope, Eleanor visiting would be a disaster. She must be in her eighties and had never been physically strong. Mentally hard as nails, though. Odd that Carlos hadn’t mentioned his grandfather. Perhaps Eleanor kept secrets from the prejudiced jerk with the stick up his socially superior ass.

  Speaking of secrets, she knew the one about her ex-husband’s identity would throw Carlos for a loop. He couldn’t already know, or he’d be all over her wanting explanations. Diamond Jack of the Rough Cuts had been her son’s hero for years, and Carlos had never known he idolized his own father. Talk about irony.

  Her hands clenched. She slowed her breathing and relaxed her fists. “So was that your grandmother? On the phone?”

  “No. Her son. We’re meeting for coffee.”

  Her breath caught. “Not here?” Please, Goddess, don’t let Jack show up in Blue Peak.

  “No, Mom. We’re meeting in a neutral spot.” He rubbed his neck. “The get-together may not last long. He sounded pissed off right from the start.”

  “It’s not you. I bet you caught him at work. He gets absorbed when he—”

  “Yeah, he said he didn’t always act like an asshole.”

  Why had she made an excuse for Jack? Father and son would have known each other all along, but for Jack’s career and her insistence on raising their son as normally as possible. That and the strong feelings she’d held for too long.

  Finally Carlos would meet the man who’d loomed over both their pasts. This couldn’t be good.

  Damn it. She hoped the declaration Abby had forced her into making hadn’t invited Mr. Heartache back.

  Chapter Two

  Jack snagged the only private table in the back of the coffee house. He didn’t want to advertise his presence, though the local grapevine had announced his return when he hit the town line. He’d been coming to Stratton Lake and his uncle’s cabin since age eight, and most folks left him alone. Tourists were a problem, but not his neighbors. The Lake Cafe made a decent cup of java, and the owner was a boyhood friend. No word of his meeting with Carlos would escape except by accident. Still, he kept his hat on and his head ducked, glancing up when anyone entered.

  Sunshine splashing through the large windows caught his attention. The light faded due to a cloud cover he’d noticed building as he’d driven in. Sipping his hot drink, he made a mental note to use the metaphorical image somehow. Would the storm from his past clear when Carlos entered? He snorted at his uncharacteristic whimsy. Partly cloudy sure had to be a better sign about their meeting than a raging thunderstorm. He shook his head. What a knob.

  He’d been phoning his mother non-stop since the bolt from the blue hit yesterday. She’d ducked him, and he didn’t doubt she’d “forgotten” to turn on her phone. She couldn’t ignore his calls forever, though he wasn’t sure what he’d say if she answered. Other than, “why didn’t you warn me?” She’d always said life was full of surprises, and you couldn’t prepare for every shock that came along. Not too big a revelation, then, that she didn’t return his messages.

  Bitching about what he couldn’t change wouldn’t eliminate the churning in his stomach. Or the muscle spasms threatening to overtake his spine. He’d been dreaming about what he’d say to his son for so long, he never considered that he’d blank out, but he had. He’d wanted to explain why he’d left, to outline all the reasons why his leaving made sense, had actually helped Carlos. To list reasons why his son shouldn’t want to kick his ass.

  Now he knew that what he’d wanted for years was only more self-absorbed bullshit. What would get aired wouldn’t be excuses but real answers to his son’s questions. Plus, he didn’t know how his son would react to meeting a father he hadn’t seen since age five. Two things he could not control. He hoped his knee-jerk sarcasm would take a vacation this morning.

  He checked his watch when the door opened at exactly nine o’clock. Jack would have known Carlos immediately, even without the photos his investigator sent annually. His height, body build, and hair color were pure Young. He hadn’t been kidding when he said the family genes were strong. Except for hair length, Carlos took after him, at least physically.

  He stood and half waved to ensure his son would spot him. Not a necessary move, because Jack was the only man wearing a ball cap in the place. His standing had been an instinctual need fueled by adrenaline.

  Carlos paid then picked up his order before making his way to the table. They stood in silence each sizing up the other and then shook hands.

  Jack pointed to the open chair. He cleared his throat. “So, um, you’re Carlos.” He grasped his hands to hide his shaking and searched for a comment that wouldn’t leave him feeling like a fool. “Um, thanks for calling. I’m sorry I acted like an asshole, but I had a project under deadline and the phone kept ringing.”

  “Yeah, my mom said you get absorbed when you work.”

  “She did?” No surprise. Sally had always known him better than anyone. To be fair, he’d never opened up to many people. Sally was the only woman he’d trusted to have his back. Besides Sally, his manager and the band were the only ones he’d fully trusted. That’s why her defection had stomped his ass.

  Carlos pushed his coffee cup in small circles. His fingers tapered like Sally’s, and he had inherited her forehead and chin, along with auburn highlights that showed under direct light. Other than the telling mannerisms that reflected Sally, this man had Young genes. Perhaps he’d avoided getting the inherent stupidity that dominated the line.

  “Out with it.”

  Carlos caught his gaze. “Why?”

  Jack didn’t need to hear the rest of the question. “Why’d I leave?” He dropped his gaze, looking into the past. “I was a stupid shit, missing out on you.” He met Carlos’s eye. “I’m sure you think I abandoned you. Hell, I did-I walked away. No cards, no letters. But I did what I believed…well no excuse. I screwed up. I hope I didn’t ruin your life. I’m sorry.”

  His son sat without speaking. Yeah, he’d only thought he understood how words could fail. Now he knew. What a piss-poor answer.

  “You? You’re my dad? This isn’t a joke?” He looked around. “Or possibly my real dad sent you because he thought I’d like you better?”

  He winced. Nice picture his son held.

  “Why would you think…oh you mean my name, right? You know me as Jack Reed, alias Diamond Jack of the Rough Cuts. So I can’t be your dad.”

  Carlos nodded. “Yeah. I’ve loved your music my whole life. When mom got testy about me playing your tunes non-stop, I’d put on headphones so she couldn’t hear.”

  He’d wanted to be a hero to his son, but not from a distance, and not because he could play guitar and sing. He’d been born with musical talent, that didn’t make him better than someone less skilled who got on with life the best they could.

  Carlos tapped his fingertips against the table, obviously considering his next question. “Why’d you change your name? Did you mean to disown or hide me?”

  “Yeah, uh, professional reasons.” Actually the change was part of the divorce agreement. Figured Sally would keep her mouth shut about his identity. She’d wanted no public links between him and Carlos. She’d kept her maiden name when they married, but Jack was listed as father on the birth certificate. A name change put one more layer between Carlos, Jack, and nosy reporters. Plus Jack could give his father the figurative middle finger.

  “I switched to my mother’s maiden name, Reed. I never meant to disown you.”

  His son looked ready to ask specific questions about a topic he’d rather avoid. He held up his palm. “Let’s not talk about that right no
w. I’d rather get to know you, first. That’s why we’re here, right?”

  Carlos nodded. “Now that you’ve partially answered my most important questions, yeah, I guess I’m willing to move on. I have a feeling there’s more to the story of you leaving.”

  His son’s calm expression pushed him to say more. “My apology isn’t enough, won’t ever be enough, but I don’t know what else to say. Guess I came to terms with you hating me a long time ago.” His gesture encompassed them both. “Nothing I can say now, all these years later, will ever make up for my walking away. I’m not gonna bullshit you, or make up stories, but I can tell you I never forgot you. Never.”

  “I guess I needed, I don’t know, to hear what you’ve just said. A lifetime of hurt and wondering won’t go away in a few minutes, but I can’t say I hated you. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me what you’re hiding. Until then, let’s talk.”

  Jack nodded, unable to speak.

  They exchanged stares. He sipped coffee gone tepid, seeking a way to connect. “Do you play? You know, an instrument?”

  “No, I guess I didn’t inherit those genes. I always wanted to play guitar, or piano, but, well, Mom and I did other stuff, instead.”

  “What kind of stuff did you do?”

  His son shrugged. “Ghost hunting, protest marches, school activities, swim team. Mom wanted me to be well rounded. She taught Women’s Studies until she quit to start a retail store a few years back.”

  Jack knew that. He’d had his investigator keeping tabs on his son and Sally all along. Now he had to pretend surprise.

  “Well, there’s always hope any grandchildren will inherit the music gene, right?”

  Carlos stared.

  “What? You did say you were getting married, starting a family.”

  “You sound like Mom, bugging me about having kids she can spoil.”

  “I’d like to meet your fiancée, you know, if you want to introduce us.” He inhaled deeply, still shaken with their meeting. “And how is Sally, uh, I mean, your mother?” He wasn’t sure why he’d asked about a woman who’d torn out his heart, but too late to call back the words.

  “I call her Sally in public, Mom in private. Can’t remember how that got started but it works for us. She’s fine.”

  “She didn’t have a problem with us meeting?”

  “No, no, she’s fine.”

  Jack knew bullshit when someone spun it, and Carlos wove a blanket. He raised his eyebrows. “Really? I figured she’d fight this get-together.”

  “Nope.” Carlos chuckled. “Okay, she didn’t look happy, more resigned. Maybe a little scared.”

  She doesn’t want me around. I can get down with that feeling.

  “You’re not pissed with me or her, are you? For keeping quiet about my identity? The band hit crazy big on that first tour. She, we thought you’d be better off out of the spotlight.”

  Carlos tilted his head to the side, and Jack recognized Sally in the gesture. “I haven’t had time to digest the information. I guess you both had a good reason for the charade, and even though I’m not pressing now, I’ll want answers.”

  Icy fingers gripped his gut. “So my leaving did piss you off.”

  “Not totally.”

  Jack held on to his coffee cup with both hands, happy his son hadn’t walked out yet. Sure, he’d signed away his rights to Carlos, but Sally had been impossible to find after she’d left. She’d made it clear—through lawyers—that he’d only screw up their son, and he’d believed her. Then his actions had proved her right.

  “So tell me about yourself,” Jack said. “Your life. I’d like to hear everything you want to tell me.”

  “I remember you singing to me when I couldn’t sleep. Not every time. You must have had gigs some of those nights.”

  He nodded.

  “That’s all I’ve remembered, but I decided my father cared about me. It’s partly why I looked for you. You did, right? Care?”

  Shit. Those questions made his kid sound eight years old. “Is that why you called me? You wanted reassurance that you’d make a good father to your own kids?”

  “Yeah, I guess that was part of my decision to search for you.”

  “Carlos, I’ve had to quickly size-up plenty of people over the years, and I can say that you’ll make a dynamite dad.” He glanced at his hands then back at his son. “This will probably sound like B.S., but I walked away to keep you safe.” He swallowed his cold drink to avoid saying more.

  They sat quietly. Jack fought to pull his emotions under control.

  Carlos broke the silence. “About me. I couldn’t pick out a tune, and I can’t sing. I followed Mom into teaching.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows, not trusting his voice.

  “Doctor of Psychology. Then, in another follow-the-mother move, I left teaching and opened a coffee house in Blue Peak. The Collective Unconscious Café. That’s sorta where I met my fiancée, Abby.” He leaned forward. “You’re gonna love her.”

  His back muscles relaxed. He took a deep breath for the first time all morning. Then he bought them each another refill. Looked like they’d be talking for a while.

  ****

  Sally watched Carlos walk across the street toward her store later that day. He entered as the sun, which had been struggling to break through the clouds, gave up the fight.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Her heart did a triple flip. She stepped from behind the counter and hugged him long and hard. “Sweetie. How did your meeting go? You did see your, uh, today, right?’

  “Yes, I met my father this morning. Our reunion went well. We had a good talk.”

  She took his hand and led him toward the couch. She wished she’d added more lavender to the aromatic mist she’d sprayed in the store today. An extra calming influence would help. “And?”

  “And when you’re ready, you, or he, or both of you can tell me why you made the choices you did with regard to my life. I get it’s the past, and I can’t change any part of what has happened. But it’s my past.”

  Her shoulders dropped. “You’re angry.”

  “I thought long and hard before looking for my father. I thought I knew how I’d react. Instead, I’m a combination of ticked off, glad I finally satisfied my curiosity, and full of questions. And shocked to learn I have a music industry icon as a father.”

  She played with her chiffon neck scarves and glanced toward her front door. “That’s a conversation we should hold in private.”

  “Agreed, and I’m not ready to hear your side of the story right now. Abby’s waiting.”

  “My side of the story?” How much did Jack tell our son about my insistence on full custody? “How angry are you?” Will Carlos hate me forever? She put her hand on his forearm. “You understand I never meant you harm, right?”

  Carlos sighed. “You’ll always be my mom. I don’t know if I like the maneuverings neither of you seem willing to explain, but I still love you. My psych degree will come in handy, but I know Abby will help me more. I’ll get sorted out, no worries.”

  She straightened, even though her body would rather have assumed the fetal position. The signs were clear. Carlos was regrouping and determined to get his answers. Answers she owed him but couldn’t face.

  “I know Abby will help. Should I stay away from the coffee house? Not call you?” Damn it. Why can’t I see his aura?

  He shook his head. “Don’t go all Drama Mama on me. It’s business as usual for now, except I have to assimilate a life-changing discovery. Wouldn’t matter if my father had turned out to be a day laborer. I still have shit to work out.”

  “I’ll be here for you.”

  “You always have been, Mom. Thanks. That’s why I’d like you to try and get along with my father if, no when you see each other.”

  She froze. She hadn’t wanted to consider the eventuality of Jack. “Why would you think we don’t get along?”

  He raised his index finger. “The fact that you never wanted to talk about Jack to
ld me you had strong feelings you didn’t want to face. Thin line between love and hate, remember?”

  A second finger joined the first. “No one changes their name without a strong reason.”

  “Third,” another finger rose. “Didn’t take long to see you both have strong personalities. Meeting each other again after so long? I’m hoping the earth doesn’t explode.”

  He leaned toward her and enfolded her in a hug. “I’ll call you.”

  She shook off her shock and breathed in the familiar scent of her son. “I’ll be waiting.” Would her long-time fear of harming Carlos finally become a self-fulfilling prophecy?

  He left, his shoulders hunched in thought. She remained seated, her hands shaking, unable to understand why her extrasensory skills had failed when she most needed them.

  Carlos’s words reassured her, but he was not the only person who had some emotional work waiting.

  Given his attitude when he talked about his dad, his and Jack’s first meeting had been positive. He’d referred to a “reunion,” which sounded as if they planned to spend more time together. Visit each other’s homes. Have dinner. Share holidays. Her exclusive time with Carlos had ended, and not only because he was engaged. She’d been willing to welcome a daughter to their family, but making nice with her traitor ex-spouse to please Carlos? Not so much.

  Selfish? Yep. She knew the day of reckoning was near when Carlos had mentioned befriending a retired private detective who’d recently moved to Blue Peak. That had been her first clue that he planned on pursuing the missing link in his past. She simply hadn’t thought contact with the Young family would happen so quickly, or that the tie to Jack would be made.

  Baloney. The Internet guaranteed the truth would haunt me sooner than later.

  The reality was, with Jack back in Carlos’s life, she’d see her former husband up close and personal. And that would be an event for which she could never prepare herself.

  An image of a young Jack invaded her mind. His choice of career over family still burned, but she’d been the one demanding he walk away from their son.