Distant Shores

"Im Jack," he said.

She plopped a glittery designer handbag on the table and scouted through it, finally finding her cigarettes. When she lit up, he smelled cloves. "Im Amanda. " She looked at him, exhaled. "I know you. Youre the new guy over at Fox Sports, right? Theyre spending a buttload to promote you and Warren. I work at BBDO, by the way. Sports ads are my life. "

"Really?"

"Youre better looking in person. I guess you hear that all the time. "

He tried not to be pleased, but the compliment poured through him like a restorative.

"Youre probably wondering why Im wearing this ridiculous dress. My sister just got married. I was in the wedding. "

The bartender came over and set her drinks on the scarred table between them. He looked at Jack. "You want another one?"

Jack noticed that hed drained his glass already. When had he done that? "Sure. "

"You got it. "

Amanda picked up the first shot glass and drank the tequila in one head-thrown-back swallow. Then she drank the second one, slammed her flat palm on the table and giggled. "Yee-ha. I needed that. " She looked at him, smiling brightly. "Im not an alcoholic, not even of the Bridget Jones variety, but this wedding has been a nightmare. My sister, who is all of twenty-four, by the way, has snagged herself one of those Ferrari-drivin, TriBeCa-livin dot. com boys. And I have to show up at the wedding without a date. Youd think with eight months notice, I could at least find one man worth spending the evening with but noooo. I have to show up alone and hear every white-haired lady in the place say, So,

Amanda, when will we be coming to your wedding? Christ. " She looked at him. "Youd certainly shut the old biddies up. "

He had no idea what she was talking about, so he smiled politely and nodded.

She grinned, leaning forward. "Will you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Come to the reception with me. Its at the Marriott. We could have a few free drinks, eat some of the food thats costing my dad more money than a trip to Greece. Theres a great band. "

He leaned back, trying suddenly to put distance between them.

She looked down at the ring on his finger. "It wouldnt be a date. Really. Just a fun night out. "

Promise me, Elizabeth had said to him only two weeks ago, promise me you wont become the man you were before.

"Youd be saving me. Really. " She raised her hand to signal the bartender that she was ready to pay; then she stood up and reached for his hand.

At the last second, he drew back. If he touched her, he might weaken, and it was weakness that had sent him down that forbidden road so many years ago. "I cant do it," he said softly. "Im sorry. "

She stood there a minute, looking down at him. Finally, she smiled. "Shes a lucky woman. Well, wish me luck. Im back into the fray. "

After she left, Jack looked down and saw that his hands were trembling. He felt like a man whod swerved just in time to avoid a head-on collision.

Elizabeth looked down at her list. After two weeks of working like a dog, she was nearing the end. Only the kitchen remained unpacked.

She stood in the empty living room. Gone were the beautiful striped chairs shed re-covered herself, and the down-filled blue-and-yellow toile sofa. Gone, too, were the family photographs that used to line every available surface. Most of them had been put in storage; a few, the ones she couldnt live without, had been shipped to Jack in New York.

In place of her many treasures stood cardboard boxes. Dozens of them, each one marked with a title shed chosen carefully. In two days, the movers shed hired would come for this final load, truck them over to the storage facility, and it would be time to go.

She released her breath slowly. It was better not to think about that. If she looked too far ahead, she lost strength.

It was just a house, after all. She reminded herself of that at least fifty times a day.

She had spoken to Jack daily since hed left. He sounded happier than hed been in years. He adored his new job. Each time she hung up, she found herself praying, Please, God, let me find that again, too . . . let us find it.

At four-thirty, the doorbell rang. Shed been expecting it, but still she jumped at the noise.

Im not ready yet.