Page 78 of Finding Yesterday
I nod, words failing me. My breath is jagged, and the crushing pain in my chest is almost unbearable.
I manage to pull Jack into a hug, holding him with everything in me, letting my body speak when words aren’t sufficient. We stand there, our bodies intertwined, pain radiating from every pore. The rain gushes down, as though it’s crying the tears I can’t.
Time blurs by, and when I finally pull away, I whisper, “I’m so sorry. But we can work through this. You love it here.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
I wince, taking a step back. So that’s it? Jack’s returning to San Francisco, after everything? I’m sad for what he’s going through, but this isn’t the answer. My tone turns terse when I say, “You can’t just keep running away, Jack.”
He stares at the ground. “San Francisco isn’t running away. It’s my home.”
His words make my stomach burn and my pulse race. Suddenly, I’m irrationally angry at Emma for being right. Again. My nose flares when I grit out, “Then you should go home.” I turn and fumble into the house.
CHAPTER THIRTY
JACK LEFT ONthe first flight out.
My heart’s in a million pieces, and I’m angry. Actually, I’m furious, although I know I can’t possibly imagine what it’s like for Jack—thinking he might be to blame. Part of me wonders if I would look at Jack differently if I thought he was.
The problem is, I don’t. It’s only a gut feeling, but it’s telling me it wasn’t his fault. However, if he can’t forgive himself for what happened, then maybe he should move on where he can live his best life.
Besides, I can’t be with someone who keeps punishing himself.
I head to The Fine Bone to finish cleaning up after the party and start getting ready for work.
Apron in hand, I head up the steps, my breath halting when I see a note on the door, the lights all out. I rush up to it, my vision blurring when I read Pops’s handwriting. “Closed,” it says in big letters. Below, in smaller print, it reads, “We’re sorry, but we have to permanently close The Fine Bone. Thank you for your patronage. We were blessed to have served you.”
“No!” I yell. “No, no, no.” I rip the sign off. In a blurred rage, I drive to Pops’s house, my tires screeching as I roll into his driveway. I know that bike thing threw Pops into an emotional spin, but I can’t believe he did this without telling any of us.
I run up to his door and pound on it. “I know you’re in there, Pops!” My voice is screechy. “Come and talk to me.”
The door swings open, and Pops steps out on the front porch. His face is tired, torn.
“How could you just close, huh?” My arms fly in the air. “You didn’t say a word. Your employees are counting on you. The town is counting on you.”
“I can’t do it, Poppins, I’m sorry.” His head is down. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know. I…I just can’t run the restaurant anymore.”
“Why not? I’ll help you.”
“I’d love your help, and I believe in you. But I can’t.” He shakes his head.
“Why?” I ask, louder.
He inhales. “I wanted The Fine Bone so I could run a place with my grandson. I told Jack that, but he thought starting it would get me to change my mind. I hoped it would too.” His voice is hoarse, quiet. “But trying to go in there now and do it all without him there…”—he stops speaking and closes his eyes—“I just can’t bring myself to do it.”
“Maybe you just need a little time.”
He swallows hard. “I’m going to do some traveling with a lady-friend. I’ve been given a chance to see some of the world, and I think it’s time I get out of this town.”
“Wow.” I blink. Pops has a lady-friend?Who? I open my mouth to continue my argument, but I realize I don’t have one anymore.
What kind of person would I be if I didn’t support him? He can’t miss something like this; he’s finally going to have the company of a woman for the first time in eighteen years. “But…” I trail off, my mind still trying to compute everything. “What about Jack?”
Pops looks at me, his eyes red-rimmed. “I haven’t told him yet. Actually, he’s probably still in the air. And don’t you tell him today, please. He has a situation with his San Francisco restaurant that he has to focus on.” Pops’s face goes red as he shakes his head. “He left, Claire.”
My pulse quickens. “He did.”
Pops looks down, his lower lip twitching. “I wanted him to stay, so much.”
