A lump formed in Jake’s throat as he held the gaze staring back at him. Jesse was the younger twin by almost twenty minutes, and Jake had forever been his protector, often saving him from scuffles and life’s minor mishaps.
But when the leukemia struck out of nowhere,foreverbecame redundant, and the option to intervene was taken from him, even after a bone marrow transplant bought Jesse precious extra years of remission.
With Jesse’s phone still in hand, Jake lounged on the sofa and scrolled through more recent photos, feeling like his heart would burst. His brother had always lived life to the max, with music being his one true love. At times, Jake wondered if his younger twin might stop touring, settle down, and perhaps even embrace a long-term relationship. But in the end, time wasn’t on his side.
So why, after all those years, was it Molly Parker occupying Jesse’s thoughts in the weeks leading up to his death?
Jake leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, and as he turned off his brother’s phone, that cliché plastered all over social media sprang to mind:fuck cancer.
That same evening, in the garden suburb of Clifton East, Molly couldn’t settle. Jesse was dead. How had she not known this? Over the years, she’d often felt his presence—a gentle reminder of her past—and would smile as she recalled some of the things they’d said and done. Now, as she sat outside in the early evening light, Molly once again smiled sadly at the memory of him.
Back inside a while later, she grabbed a mixing bowl from the kitchen cabinet and turned on the oven. Baking was her happy place, and from the age of twelve, Molly had baked for her family most weekends: cookies, cakes, and apple desserts—all the things her parents and brother loved.
After whisking together sugar and eggs, Molly added melted butter, flour, oats, flaked almonds, and coconut. For tonight’s mix, chopped dried apricots from Lime Tree Hill’s farm-gate store and a dash of almond extract also made the cut.
With the cookies rolled, pressed with a fork, and browning in the oven, Molly sat with a chamomile tea and waited for the timer.
At the end of the island, in her basket of odds and ends, Jake Sinclair’s business card rested atop a pile of flyers. Blue lettering on white: the card was simple and to the point. She wondered what kind of person he was. Jesse had been roguish, not in a negative way, more in the endearing sense, but she’d never quite got the essence of him. Was Jake the same or more conservative in nature, like his dress sense and haircut?
The ding of the timer pulled Molly from her thoughts. She’d eat one cookie, maybe two, then give the rest to Gloria for her next mahjong night.
But as she transferred them from the baking sheet onto a wire rack, she discovered she’d suddenly lost her appetite.
7
Showered and exhausted after a five-a.m. start, Jake was all set for an early night when his doorbell chimed. He picked up his wineglass and drained its contents before checking through the peephole.
As if the universe was conspiring against him, Alexia, a family friend from his school days and onetime teenage crush, stood on his front porch, both hands clamped around the straps of an oversized designer tote. He muttered a curse under his breath before opening the door.
“Jake. How are you?” She swept past as if he’d rolled out the red carpet at her feet.
“Lex.” He closed the door and gave himself a mental pep talk. Sometimes, he struggled with his manners, especially when it came to Alexia. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She sat without invitation, her bag dumped at her feet. “I’ve heard on the grapevine that Jesse’s tramp has finally appeared to dance on his grave before collecting her spoils.”
Anger twisted in his gut. He had no idea who belonged to Alexia’s grapevine, but they certainly knew what went on around town, even if most of their interactions were bullshit gossip. And while Jake had no idea what to make of Molly Parker’s sudden arrival in Clifton Falls, he also loathed how Alexia was talking.
Jesse had always kept his relationships private, and although he’d been light on the details of his tryst with Molly, according to their father, he was definitely of sound mind when he changed his will to include her.
“Right. Let’s get one thing straight. Jesse’s estate is not up for discussion, okay? There’s enough crap surrounding it without me stepping in anymore.”
Alexia didn’t miss a beat. “So you’re just gonna let some groupie skank sweep in from… well”—she raised one perfect brow—“New York, if you believe the rumors, and get her greedy little hands on Jesse’s life insurance? You’re better than that, Jake. I bet she’s had this planned right from the start.”
Once again, his own doubts about Molly surfaced before he could silence them. He took a few seconds to steady himself before continuing. “Come on. You haven’t even met the woman, and you’re all over her with this judgment crap?”
“So what are you saying? That you just want to bake your fancy cakes, surf, and pretend you’re all hip and chill in your own little world? Well, I know you, Jake, and you’ll be every bit as pissed as I am that he left this Parker catfish a wad of cash.” She looked away, her annoyance firmly on display. “And I could really use a drink right now. So how about you do a girl a favor and pour me a red from that bottle on the counter?”
Jake crossed to the kitchen and did as he was told, the distraction giving him a chance to measure his words. Although dealing with Alexia had always been arduous, he’d learned how to read her better these past few months, and normally, he tolerated her in small doses.
He offered her the glass and sat in the chair opposite.
“Thanks.” She took a sip. “What was Jesse thinking, changing his will like that?”
“We’ll never know, but one thing I do know, he would have hated this?—”
“Hated what? That I feel betrayed because he didn’t include me in his will?” She huffed and shook her head. “You are unbelievable.”
“Come on, Lex,” Jake said softly. “You never even liked Jesse.”
