The Forgotten Girl (3 page)

“I like that about you,” he said.

“Don’t jerk my chain.”

“I mean it. I like that quality.”

She threw several things into one of the pots and wiped her hands on a towel. Jason continued to watch her. She still looked good, better than he did, in his opinion. Only a few rogue strands of gray had invaded her red hair, and those were only visible on close inspection. Her fair, freckled skin remained wrinkle-free. She kept in shape, ate well, worked at the public library. He wondered if she’d ever get used to the fact that they lived in Ednaville, Ohio, instead of New York City, where they’d met.

“What about you?” Nora asked. “Did anything interesting happen to you today?”

Jason swallowed his beer. He wasn’t going to mention Hayden. He’d thought about it all afternoon, sifting through his memories of what he saw on the square. He decided it wasn’t her, that his mind ran away from him when he saw a woman who happened to look like his sister. No need to stir things up.

Nora sat at the table and took his hand. “Hey? What’s on your mind?”

“You did ask me about my day, didn’t you?” He squeezed her hand back. Her skin felt cold, probably from handling produce.

“I did. It’s what married couples do. They talk. Open lines of communication.”

“You sound like that marriage counselor in New York.”

“You wanted to see her as much as me.”

“I know,” Jason said. He squeezed her hand again. “No complaints from me.” He swallowed more beer. “You asked about my day. Well, I got complimented. I went to that meeting with Colton, the guy from the festival committee, and he told me I’d hardly changed since high school. Looks-wise, that is.”

“Well, that should make your day,” Nora said, squeezing his hand back. “Is this Colton guy handsome?”

“No, he’s fat and bald.”

“Well, we take our compliments where we can find them. Are you doing the work for him?”

Jason nodded. “He’s thrilled. He thinks he’s getting a big-time New York advertising guy to make the poster for the summer festival.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Just like the Ednaville Public Library is getting a former supervisor from the New York Public Library system to work at their circulation desk?”

“It’s your hometown. We could have moved anywhere.”

“I know,” Jason said.

“You regret coming back?”

“When I see all these people I knew growing up, I start to think Anchorage sounds nice.”

“We all do what we have to do, don’t we?” Nora laughed and let go of his hand. She went back to the stove and stirred both of the pots. “I was thinking maybe we should go away the weekend
of the festival this year. Between that and high school graduation, the town gets so overrun. And Rick and Sheila have been begging us to come back to the city for a visit.”

“I know.”

“We haven’t been back in three years.”

Jason finished his beer. He started picking at the label.

“Rick says the economy is doing well there. People are really hiring again—”

“I’ve been out of that game a long time,” Jason said. He knew he sounded short, and he regretted it.

“Not that long,” Nora said.

“It’s been almost seven years since I got laid off,” Jason said. “Rick didn’t say it, but I bet all the people they’re hiring are twenty-two. I look young here in Ohio but not in New York.”

“Well,” Nora said. “It was just a thought. I know getting laid off still stings. You’ve done good work for America’s Best, and we have a lot of friends in the city.”

“People come and go,” he said.

“Jason, listen, this was supposed to be a temporary move. Remember? Until we got our feet back on the ground financially. And we both thought if we came here, if we were away from the craziness of the city, we’d get closer too. Our marriage would get stronger. And it has, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” he said, softening his tone. “And you’re right. If I promise to think about it . . . can we eat? I’m hungry. And everything smells so good.”

Nora turned the burners off, her movements quick and confident. “Sure,” she said. “We’ll talk about it another time.”

Jason met his high school friend Regan Maines Kreider in Burroughs’ Coffee Shop. He needed the midafternoon jolt of caffeine—and he needed to talk to her. He’d slept poorly, his dreams full of images of Logan. Logan on Thompson Bluff the night of their high school graduation. Logan drunk and emotional, lashing out, ready to fight. And the two of them coming to blows, wrestling each other to the ground and swinging their fists, both of them angry and verging on tears.

Jason could still feel the last blow, the one he delivered to the side of Logan’s head, the one that put him on the ground and ended the fight. He flexed his hand under the table.

Regan settled in across from him a few minutes later. She sipped her coffee, her eyes watching Jason over the rim of the mug. Regan had had two children and worked full-time in the mortgage department of Farmers’ Bank and Credit. They met this way, maybe once a month, and talked about their lives—job worries, movies they’d seen, the changing face of the town.

“Well,” she said, “you’ve got me curious. Normally we just shoot the shit, but now, out of the blue, it sounds like you have something serious on your mind. I’ve spent the morning wondering what it could be.”

“I didn’t mean to be mysterious,” Jason said.

“It’s okay. I’m a divorced mom of two. My life could use some mystery. What’s on your mind?”

“The past,” Jason said.

“The past?” Regan said. She looked around the room. “Do they serve whiskey in this place?”

Jason laughed. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Do you remember Colton Rivers from school?”

“Colton Rivers.” Her voice was a little mocking. “The guy who’s been running for city council since the day he was born. Who could forget him? He does those awful TV commercials for his law practice.”

“Exactly. I have his phone number memorized I’ve seen the commercials so many times. Well, I saw him in person yesterday. He invited me to lunch because he wants me to design posters for the summer festival.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m guessing there’s more to the story than that.”

“Yes. The thing is,” he said, “Colton didn’t really want to talk to me about the poster very much. He was using me for something else. Get this—he’s trying to find Logan.”

Regan’s expression didn’t change, but something did leave her face. The animation that had been residing there, the energy and life that was so readily apparent in her eyes, faded.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. “I know we’ve never really talked about that night.”

“You left for school early,” Regan said. “You were gone as fast as you could go.”

Her words stung a little. He suspected they were meant to. She was right—Jason couldn’t wait to get away from Ednaville and start a new life in college. He found a summer program and
started taking classes early. He hadn’t looked back. He hadn’t wanted to.

He almost apologized to Regan right there in Burroughs’, but decided that would be too awkward. Instead he said, “Colton wanted to know if I had heard from Logan over the years. If I knew of an address or anything for him.”

“Why?” Regan’s voice sounded tight and clipped. “What could he possibly want with Logan now?”

“His dad is dying. Did you know that?”

Regan nodded. “I’ve heard. I know he’s . . .” Using her index finger, she made a circular motion around her temple. “I think he sits in that big house with a team of nurses and watches the time tick away.”

“Logan’s the sole heir. Colton wants to find him and make sure he knows he’s got a boatload of money coming to him.”

“He knew that. He always knew that.”

Jason noticed Regan’s right hand, the one that was holding her drink. Her thumb swished back and forth across the mug, smearing a small drop of coffee around on the surface. Someone ordered an espresso, and the machine hissed while the drink was created.

“You haven’t heard from him, have you?” Jason asked.

“Of course not,” Regan said.

Jason waited for her to say more, but when she didn’t, he said, “What exactly did he say before he left that night?”

Regan’s thumb stopped moving. She let go of the mug and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. “I thought I told you.”

“You told me a little back then. That was twenty-seven years ago.” Jason leaned forward. “Look, I’m not trying to upset you. It seems like me bringing this up is bothering you, and that’s not what I wanted to do.”

“I just haven’t thought of it in a long time. I didn’t really expect this to come up today. I thought we were just . . . having coffee. Old friends catching up like we usually do.”

“I didn’t expect it to come up with Colton. When he asked me about Logan . . . shit, it just came out of nowhere. But I’ve been back in Ednaville for five years. I can’t help but think of it from time to time. He was my best friend. The three of us, we were the best of friends. It all changed that night. So much changed. . . .”

He left the thought unfinished, but they both understood. He and Regan had become closer the summer they were eighteen. Before that, they had spent a great deal of time together, doing all the things kids their ages did. Seeing movies, attending parties, sneaking cigarettes and liquor while trying not to cough. He and Regan had a ritual of walking home from school together on Fridays, slow, wandering walks during which they talked about . . . everything they could think of. School, parents, their hopes and dreams and fears. That summer after graduation, the two of them circled each other like the scared kids they were. Enjoying the flirtation, and both of them probably secretly terrified that it would come to fruition, that the whole friendship would be laid on the line with an infinite array of complications.

What Jason knew then, and Regan barely suspected before graduation night, was that Logan felt the same way about her. And when they all went to the Bluff to celebrate graduation, Logan decided to tell Regan how
he
felt, how much she meant to
him
. When Regan let Logan down, telling one friend that she only had feelings for the other, Logan sought Jason out, and Jason ended up in the only real fistfight of his life.

Regan took a drink. She said, “He just told me he was leaving Ednaville. He said he was done with all of it, done with all of us.
I don’t know. . . . He said the town was too small, that his dad was an asshole. That was pretty much it.”

“I wonder if he ever went to college.”

“He didn’t care about college. He didn’t need to go. He had money.”

“He
intended
to go. He was accepted to some good schools.”

“That was all for show. Sure, he would have gone. But you know how he was in school. He got by on charm and his family name. And when that didn’t work, he pressured people. Teachers and classmates. This is a small town. Everyone knew he had money. He got by on that. It wouldn’t work in college.”

“You seem angrier than I would have expected.”

“We had to grind it out in life. He didn’t.”

“That’s true.” Jason waited, then said, “I thought you’d feel a little . . . sad. Or nostalgic thinking of him.”

“Maybe I’m getting too old for that,” she said.

“I know Logan could be difficult. Believe me, I know that.”

“I’m glad you see him a little more clearly now than you did back then.”

“I saw him clearly,” Jason said. “I knew him better than anybody else.”

“You hero-worshipped him,” Regan said. “That’s different from knowing somebody. Do you want a refill?”

Jason pushed his mug across the table, and while Regan went back to the counter, he stared at the tabletop, alone with his thoughts. Ice cubes tumbled into a glass somewhere, and Regan and the barista made murmured small talk. Regan was right—Jason had looked up to Logan more than he liked to admit. But Logan was one of those guys everyone looked up to. He was confident, outgoing, daring. And he came from money. The status of his family gave his
every action, his every gesture, a quality that seemed to a teenager’s eyes almost superhuman. Logan seemed untouchable.

Jason wondered, on more than one occasion over the years, why Logan ever showed an interest in him. In grade school, Jason was a quiet kid, smaller than the other boys and more interested in studying than anything else. On a few occasions, he helped Logan with math problems, and after that, Logan started including Jason in things. Invitations to birthday and pool parties came Jason’s way as well as a coveted seat at Logan’s lunch table. It always felt to Jason like Logan saw something in him that others didn’t, that there was an untapped potential inside Jason, something waiting to bloom that slowly did as the years went by. It was hard for Jason to not see Logan as playing a role in bringing Jason’s real, more confident self out.

Regan came back and put the steaming mug before him. She didn’t say anything and seemed to have closed something off from Jason, to have withdrawn from the conversation a few degrees. There was none of the lightness that usually existed between them, the comforting ease of old friends who shared a long history.

“I guess I feel like I should go and see his dad,” Jason said.

“Why?”

“I hate the thought of the old man dying alone. He’s divorced, no other kids. I knew him fairly well. As well as you could know the workaholic, emotionally distant father of your best friend.”

“He probably won’t remember who you are now.”

“I understand that. But his son isn’t showing up, I guess.”

“You’re right that Logan
should
be doing it.”

“But he isn’t. Would it hurt anything to go see the old man? I wasn’t really here when my parents were slipping away. Maybe it’s silly.”

Regan leaned forward, smiling. Some of the warmth returned
to her face. “It’s sweet that you want to do that. I didn’t know his father at all really. When we used to go to Logan’s house, his dad just used to grunt at me. I got the feeling he didn’t have much use for girls. It’s probably lucky Logan didn’t have any sisters. His mother was always kind, but Mr. Shaw? Bleh.”

“You remember his mother?”

“Sure. Don’t you?”

“Barely. She never seemed to be around when we were kids.”

“They were divorced.” Regan smiled as she remembered something. “Mrs. Shaw was in some kind of women’s club with my mom when we were growing up. She’d come to our house from time to time. She always asked about me and how I was doing. Was I planning to go to college? Was I thinking about a career? She talked to me like I was an adult, not the usual bullshit.”

“Hmm. I guess I never really talked to her.”

“You were a boy,” Regan said. “But you should go see his dad if you want. It can’t hurt anything—you’re right.” Regan looked at her watch. “I have to be getting back to the bank. Every fifteen minutes I’m gone, I get one hundred e-mails to respond to.”

“I understand. Try working for a big company. We get e-mails telling us how much toilet paper to use in the bathroom.”

“That’s adulthood, I guess.” She stood up and gathered her keys and her phone.

“What do you think he’s doing now?” Jason asked. “Logan, I mean. Is he a beach bum? Is he a businessman? Did he get married and have kids?” Jason shook his head. “What on earth would he be doing?”

“It’s probably best not to indulge ourselves with a lot of what-ifs,” Regan said.

Jason got the feeling she was talking about more than just
Logan.