"I noticed. Am I hurting you?" he asked, continuing to palm her breasts.
"It doesn't matter," Grace replied. "I'm supposed to massage them every day... and rub my nipples to make them less sensitive when the baby nurses."
"Like this?" Jack's thumbs began rubbing her nipples into puckered nubs.
"Yes..." She closed her eyes and tried to imagine she was no longer pregnant, and the baby was asleep, and she and Jack were in bed...
Jack released her breasts and turned her around. "I didn't intend that to happen," he said. "The baby's room's nice." He took her by the shoulders, looked at her soberly, and said, "Before my mother returned, you were dead set against moving in. What made you change your mind?"
For whatever his reason, Jack's thoughts were clearly disconnected from the intimacies of moments before. Maybe because she was standing with him in the room where his son died. Maybe because the time simply wasn't right...
"I moved in because I saw the grave," Grace replied, holding Jack's gaze.
In an instant, it was as if a cloud of sadness had settled over his face, drawing his features down. He released her shoulders and walked over to the crib. "So you moved in out of pity," he said, gripping the bed railing.
"No, I moved in so you won't worry about your unborn son," Grace replied. She walked over to stand beside him. "I want this baby. Nothing's going to happen to him. I'm not like Susan, and I'm not like Lauren." She hadn't intended to bring up Jack's ex-wife. It just slipped out. But maybe it would open the door to a heart he'd kept solidly bolted inside.
"Then you know the whole thing," Jack said, continuing to stare into the crib.
"Yes," Grace replied. "Your mother told me." She placed her hand on Jack's arm. "I'm so sorry," she said, imagining him remembering his dead son laying in the crib. "I know you're still grieving, so all I can do is promise you this baby—" she placed her hand on her belly "—will always be safe with me. I give you my word."
As Jack looked into the crib, Grace saw the face of a man who'd lost everything he cherished, even a wife he once loved. She waited, and hoped he'd put his arms around her and hold her. Instead, he just stood looking down at the empty crib, saying nothing, and after a while, she left him alone to mourn his son.
It came to her then that she could not put their baby in the crib where Jack found his son after his wife smothered him, or change their baby on the changing table where Jack's son had been changed, or even keep baby clothes in the same dresser that stood beneath the window.
Tomorrow, she'd talk to Jack about going back to her house to pick up the new crib she'd bought, with its headboard displaying pictures of monkeys hanging on it, and the matching changing table and four-drawer dresser, along with the antique rocker she'd had refinished to match the set. Then she'd insist he take the old nursery set to the thrift shop, along with the boxes in the hall closet. It was time to rid Jack's house of ghosts.
CHAPTER 8
After drying her hair and turning back her bed for the night, Grace returned to the nursery to find Jack standing at the window. She could see his reflection in the glass, but he didn't see hers because he was staring out at nothing, a faraway look on his face. Walking over to the crib, she put her hand on the railing, and said, "I can't put our baby in this crib. Every time you'll look at him you'll remember your son and I can't live with that, so you can either pick up the new nursery set at my house and replace this one, or take me home." When he turned to look at her, she said, "I'm sorry if I sound insensitive, but that's the way it is."
Jack's mouth twitched in a kind of smile of understanding. Then he walked over to stand beside her, and said in a cheerless voice while peering into the crib, "I was thinking the same thing. I do see him the way he was. But I don't know if another crib would make any difference."
"Then let's set up the nursery in the bedroom where I'm staying and move me into this room," Grace said. "We could repaint the other bedroom, and with the nursery furniture from my house, everything would be different."
"That's a lot of trouble," Jack replied, while continuing to peer into the crib.
"If it brings you peace of mind, and makes it so you can look down at our son and see only him, it's worth whatever it takes," Grace said. "You could pick up a gallon of paint in town tomorrow, and since the other bedroom's a corner room with two log walls, you'd only have to paint the interior walls, so when we move in the new nursery furniture everything will be fresh."
Jack's brows were gathered, and his eyes intense. Then he drew in an extended breath, and said, "What should we do with Jackie's furniture?"
Grace thought about that. Because Jack referred to it as Jackie's furniture, the nursery set seemed to have a kind of hold on him, like a perverse memorial, the last physical bond he had of his son. But to keep it would be like holding onto the frayed piece of a rope that broke when a loved one fell from a mountain. The loved one died, but the rope was the last contact. "We can give it to the women's shelter," she said. "They can always use another nursery set."
"I suppose," Jack replied, in an uncertain voice. "It's just furniture."
Grace placed her hand over his on the crib railing, and said, "We also need to have a picture of Jackie framed and hang it in the living room. He needs to be with family. You do have pictures, don't you?"
Jack nodded. "Some, but they're... somewhere. Maybe my mother has them. Things got moved while I was... gone."
"We'll also put together an album," Grace said. But Lauren Hansen would not be present. Those pictures she'd burn, like getting rid of the frayed rope.
"What color paint?" Jack asked, surprising Grace that he was finally coming around.
"Pale yellow," Grace replied. "The new nursery furniture has monkeys on it, and one of them is holding a cluster of yellow balloons. Later, I'll pick up a yellow baby bedspread."
"I guess you're right."
Before Jack could have second thoughts, Grace went over to the changing table and started clearing it out. "I'll give you the keys to my house and you can pick up the furniture tomorrow," she said. But before she could clear out the dresser, Jack picked it up, filled drawers and all. As he edged his way through the doorway, Grace looked across the hallway into Jack's bedroom, and realized, with the new arrangement, she'd be able to see him at night if their doors happen to be open, for whatever reason, which led into an imaginary conversation with her older sister, Justine, whose numerous intimate relations with men went back years...
'Yes, Justine, I'm living with Jack. And no, we're not sleeping together.'
'Is there something wrong with him?' Justine would ask.
'Yes, he's circumcised and the doctor cut a little too close...'
Grace couldn't help smiling at her own joke, imagining the expression on Justine's face when she finally saw Jack and knew he was anything but a man with a missing part. That is, if she ever let Justine meet Jack. Justine was the kind of woman whose looks stopped men dead in their tracks, and Justine's little sister, Grace, was the kind of woman men walked right past without noticing...
When Jack returned for the crib, Grace braced her hands on his chest, kissed him on the jaw, and said, "Thank you."
Jack eyed her, curiously. "For what?"
"For being special."
Jack raised his hand to her face and looked at her intently, as if he were about to kiss her, then dropped his arm, and said, "I'd better get the crib."
Grace scrubbed her mind of a kiss that never came, and said to Jack's back, as he rolled the crib out of the room and down the hallway, "I can't find Mei Ling. I think she's gone off to have her kittens. I can't get down on the floor, so could you help me?"
"Where have you looked?" Jack asked.
"Everywhere except under the beds and in your closet. The doors to all the closets except yours have been closed since I turned her loose, but she could be under a bed."
Jack got a flashlight from the kitchen and went to Grace's bedroom. "First litters are usually small," she
said. "I doubt Mei Ling will have more than two kittens. The father is a chocolate Burmese, so the kittens could be either chocolate or blue."
Jack dropped to the floor and aimed the beam under the bed, and announced, "Nothing here. I'll check the closet in my bedroom." There, he crouched on his heels and started parting the shirts that hung from a low pole... And then came the soft sound of newborn mewing...
"She's in back on some old wool shirts," Jack announced. "You want me to drag her out."
"Not yet," Grace replied. "Get the nesting box in my bedroom and bring it here and you can put her kittens in it first. Mei Ling will go in after them. How many are there?"
"Looks like two," Jack replied. "I'll get the box."
Grace couldn't resist. Awkwardly, she lowered herself to the floor, knowing she would not be able to get up without help, and peered between the shirts, which Jack had shoved to the side, and said to Mei Ling, "Hi sweetie. It's all over for you, you lucky girl. Let's see what you have." Grace saw that Mei Ling had cleaned up the afterbirth and bathed her kittens, who were different from each other—one blue Burmese, and one chocolate. Mismatched twins. One, Mei Ling's. One, the kittens' father's. Maybe boys. And as she looked at the tiny infants, nuzzling their mother for a tit, she knew she'd keep them both. And hoped it was a prophetic sign.
Jack walked into the room and set the box on the floor. "What are you doing down there?" he asked, seeing her semi-sprawled in the closet.
"Looking at the kittens. There's one blue and one chocolate." She reached for one tiny kitten. "The brown one's the bigger of the two," she said. "Put out your hand." She placed the brown kitten in the cup of Jack's big palm, and when she looked up she saw a look of pleasure on Jack's face. Then an awareness...
"Ironic, isn't it," she said. "Marc had blue eyes and the littlest kitten is a Blue Burmese. Your eyes are brown and the big one's a Chocolate. I'm keeping both."
"That's a lot of cats in the house," Jack grumbled.
"I won't split them up," Grace said. "They'll be raised together."
Jack eyed her with an intensity that said it all...
...she'll be raising both babies together too, if she can get Susan to agree...
Jack placed the brown kitten in the box then put out his hand for the blue one. But while he was looking at it, Mei Ling left her woolen-shirt nest, stretched first her back legs, then her front ones, like the ripple of a wave, and walked over to rub against Jack's arm. She licked his hand holding the kitten then clamped her mouth on the loose skin at the back of the kitten's neck, lifting it from Jack's hand, and crawled through the opening in the box. Loud purrs could be heard coming from inside. "Three cats," Jack said under his breath, while eyeing the nesting box.
Sensing Jack's words as more about acceptance than repudiation, Grace kissed him on the cheek and said, "Thank you, Jack. You won't be sorry."
"I already am," Jack said. To Grace's surprise, he smiled, and she got the feeling he was adjusting to more than having three cats in the house, two of which would be raised together. But then, it could just be wishful thinking, raising two sons with Jack...
After Mei Ling and her kittens were settled in Grace's bedroom, Grace said to Jack, "I think you should get Ricky and bring him here to see them."
"He wasn't feeling well this morning," Jack said, "and it's almost Ricky's bedtime."
"Maybe this will perk him up. He loves Mei Ling."
"I suppose..."
When Jack left to pick up the toddler, Grace felt a pang of guilt. Ricky was fading, and she could be carrying the cure. And in New Jersey was a hospital that could process the blood from her baby's cord and transfer it to Ricky, and for the first time since he was born, Ricky might have the chance to live a normal life, and go to kindergarten when it was time, and play with other little boys and girls, and grow up to be a man...
Jack returned a few minutes later, carrying Ricky in his arms. "They're right over here, bud," he said to the boy, then set Ricky down in front of Mei Ling's box.
A smile crossed Ricky's pale face. "I can pet them?" He looked at Jack for a response.
"Very gently," Jack said. "They were just born."
Ricky put his little hand on the kitten, then looked at Grace and smiled...
And Grace knew then that she could not let this little boy die. The notion of flying terrified her, the idea of giving birth in a hospital far from home, maybe even on the plane, was deeply troubling, and the realization that Jack would not be able to deliver their son after all, was a profound disappointment. But she could not let Ricky die…
Ricky moved his hand from the kitten and slumped back against Jack, and his eyes drifted closed. "Ricky?" Jack said. "Son?" When Ricky didn't respond, Jack scooped him up in his arms and rushed out of the house. A few minutes later, Grace heard Sam's SUV out front. She hurried outside to see Sam at the wheel, and Susan in the back seat, with Jack passing Ricky into Susan's arms. Sam and Susan had made the run to the hospital in Portland many times, Grace learned from Maureen earlier, but this time, she couldn't help wondering if there was a greater urgency. From the look on Jack's face as he stood in the driveway watching as the SUV sped off down the road, she knew he too was worried.
After they returned to the house, while Jack was standing at the window looking out, Grace said, "Would you consider donating sperm to Susan again? It could be done at home with a turkey baster so there'd be no chance of a mix-up. Sam could help Susan do it."
"No," Jack said. "I donated before because Sam and Susan were desperate and it was a possible way to save Ricky, but with Susan talking about not wanting the baby she's carrying—"
"Again?" Grace cut in. "Susan brought it up again after the night in the kitchen?"
"Yeah. I'm not about to give her more sperm. She could end up..." Jack stopped.
...killing the baby... were his unspoken words.
"I want him," Grace said, tears filling her eyes. "He's all I have of Marc. Talk to Sam." She put her hand on Jack's arm. "Please talk to him."
Jack turned and looked at Grace, and when she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks, he held her by the shoulders, and said, "Honey, you'll have enough to do taking care of our son. There's no way you could take care of two babies."
"Your mother raised twins," Grace said.
"She had my father to help," Jack countered.
"Don't I have you, Jack?" Grace said. "At least for a little while?"
"You have me to help with our son," Jack said.
Grace crossed her arms, and said, "Okay then, I'll put an ad in the paper. Single mother wants husband to help raise two boys. Father of one boy dead. Father of the other boy around. House and food and the love of a good woman provided. End of ad. There must be at least one man willing to take a chance on me," she said, with irony. When Jack said nothing, Grace thrust her hands up in disgust, stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door.
It was some minutes before Grace heard the door open and felt the mattress tilt as Jack sat on the side of the bed, behind her. He put his hand on her shoulder, and said, "I'm sorry, Grace. I wish I could be everything you want right now, but I can't. Maybe after the baby's born things will be different. But for now, this is all I can give you." He stretched out on the bed behind her, curved his arm over her belly, and snuggled against her. "You've been working too hard, honey," he said. "You're tired and overwrought."
"No," Grace said, "I'm frustrated. I had the love of a good man, and every night he held me, and kissed me, and made love to me, and I miss that, and I will find someone who will make me feel like a woman again."
Jack leaned over and kissed her on the neck, and along her jaw, and on the side of her face, and said, "I'll stay with you like this for a while, but I don't want you getting your feelings all tangled up with mine. We've been thrown together in this situation—"
"Is this all it is to you, Jack? A situation?" Grace asked, staring at the window.
"That's not what I meant."
/> "Then, I'll word it another way. You've been thrown together with a woman who accidentally got impregnated with your sperm, and now you're forced into dealing with it, and she's making physical demands you don't want to meet. I'd call that a situation."
Jack pulled her against him. "Honey, whatever this is, I wouldn't change it if I could because I know you'll be a good mother for my son. As for physical demands... we don't want to rush into something we might have to undo." He started rubbing her back... and her shoulder... and up to massage her neck...
After a few minutes, Grace said, "I'm sorry what I said about uncircumcised men. It was just a survey. I doubt it meant anything." She had no idea what prompted her to talk about circumcisions at the moment, but it seemed to fit into their disorganized conversation about feelings and situations. But she was also putting demands on a man who might feel lacking after her emphasis on the pleasure a woman can get from an uncircumcised man.
"Like I said, I haven't had any complaints," Jack replied, continuing to rub her back, his palm moving over her shoulder and up to massage her neck again.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You can ask anything you want, honey, but I might not answer."
"After the baby comes, do you think you'll ever want to make love to me?"
After a stretch of silence, Jack said, "I want to make love to you right now, Grace, but it's just basic physiology. I've got something sticking out that's looking for a place to go, and you've got something that's vacant and wants to be filled, but the act of making love is more than the joining of bodies. It's a link between a man and a woman that's not easily broken. When it's right for both, it stays strong. But when it's wrong for one, it's like tearing a baby from its mother's breast because it's time to wean him. One knows it has to be done, the other feels betrayed."
"Is it asking too much for you to rub the front of me a little?" Grace asked.
"No," Jack replied. He slipped his hand beneath her nightgown and passed his palm over her bare belly, circling the full round breadth of it, then across the top, and caressed first one breast, then the other, and across her chest, and back to each breast before moving down her belly again...
Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 10