Jinxed

by Inez Kelley

  She jerked the glass decoration out of his fingers. “Congratulations. What do you want? A cookie? You haven’t been married, good for you. But you’ve been in love. As easily as you claim to have fallen for me, I bet you’ve been in love a hundred times. ‘Flighty as a bumblebee’ is what my grandma would call you. Falling in love at the drop of a hat, flitting from one flower to the next. Flighty, yep, that’s the word for you.”

  Frannie held her hand out for another snowflake and it hung there. She glanced over her shoulder. Jinx was no longer looking at her, was not even standing near the ladder anymore. Hands thrust deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched, he stood staring out the window. From the deep, even breaths he took, she could tell her words had struck a chord.

  Okay, maybe that was a wee bit judgmental. She grimaced. Her irritation bled away as she climbed down and crossed to him. The bright winter sunlight shone through the window, lightening his eyes to a rich chocolate brown haloed by a rim of black. The clear glass served as a prism and rainbow lights danced over his shadowed face. Lost in his thoughts, he did not acknowledge her approach. She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his back, her voice muffled by his shirt.

  “I think the words you are looking for are grumpy, judgmental, loud-mouthed bitch.” His slight snort of amusement encouraged her.

  “Frannie, do you believe I love you?”

  “I believe you believe it,” she hedged, rubbing her nose into his sweatshirt. The faded green material was warm and soft, hiding the stone-stiff muscles of his back. Only hours ago, she’d run her soapy hands over his slick bare skin as they laughed beneath a stinging shower, as close as two people could be. But now he seemed far away.

  Against his waist, he caught her hands and ran his thumb over her knuckles. Deep and soft, his voice was hushed with memory. “I was in love once before. But only once.”

  “What happened?”

  Head thrown back, he closed his eyes and drew a chest-expanding breath. “When I was sixteen… Her name was Becca. I loved her with everything in me. Even as a teenager I knew she was the one I wanted for life and she loved me the same way.”

  A razor-sharp sword, his words sliced at her jealous heart. The beautiful blonde in the prom picture now had a name. Frannie winced at her own pettiness.

  “We were inseparable. But we were young and college was just around the corner. She went to one school and I picked another. We mapped out our future and ran for it. We sowed some wild oats, dated others and partied a lot. But we always came back to each other.”

  Jinx stroked her arm, which was still around his waist. He was silent a long time, reliving those more carefree days. When he spoke again, there was a smile in his voice.

  “After graduation, I asked her to marry me and she said yes. But we had time for that later. First we had to get our careers off the ground and make some money, lay the foundation for a future. So we did. Time seemed on our side.”

  Pain crept into the room like a thief, stealing the Christmas cheer. One dark lock fell over his forehead, shadowing his eyes. Her fingers itched to smooth it back into place, to right whatever was wrong so he would once again be the lighthearted, joking goofball who made her smile.

  “Becca law clerked for a few judges, I interned for a computer game company and we dreamed of the day we could be together forever. Each year seemed to bring us closer to our goal. She was making waves on the legal circuit and I was made VP of New Wave Tech. Our lives were golden. When people would ask if we had set a date, we thought, ‘what’s the hurry, we have time yet’. We knew we loved each other, knew we were going to be together, why rush into anything?”

  Bitter irony edged his words, which faded to a whisper. The silence stretched for a long moment. Frannie hugged him from behind, wordlessly giving him strength to finish his story even though part of her wanted him to stop. She didn’t want to hear his story, hear his pain. Selfishly, she wanted him to be the poster child for a perfect life.

  “We finally set a date. Becca had an early morning appointment with a law firm in New York to discuss where her career was headed. She had a soft spot for children’s rights and this was a great firm, she said. They did all sorts of pro bono work for kids. We were so excited. This was it. This was the green light for our future. I was waiting for a phone call telling me she had made it, that she had been offered a job.”

  The bleakness in his tone was chilling. Frannie tightened her arms, afraid of what he was about to say. It wasn’t good, she could tell. But the raw anguish in his voice tore at her heart and made her breath catch in her chest.

  “But it never came. Instead, I watched television as the plane hit the second tower. September 11, 2001, the buildings collapsed and destroyed my life.” His voice fractured like ice in a heat storm. Tears sprang to her eyes and she struggled to keep them from falling. The flippant way she had thrown those words at him slammed back into her and painted her with shame. When he spoke again, his voice was stronger, but more hollow, shadowed with accepted loss.

  “I was frantic and half crazy for days. I couldn’t comprehend she was gone. My life buckled faster than those buildings did. In an instant, everything changed. Time had run out. We had years and years and we wasted them. Our wedding was scheduled for September twenty-second and I lost her eleven days earlier.”

  A sniffle slipped out before Frannie could catch it. Jinx turned and crushed her to him with a savagery she had only read about in books.

  “I thought Becca was everything to me. I assumed I’d never, ever fall in love again. And then I saw you.” His hand was steady as he tilted her chin up to him. Through watery eyes, she expected to see a shattered man. Instead she saw a gentle smile of sweet and tender love. But there was a fierceness behind those devil eyes that made her swallow a knot of emotion.

  “You made my heart beat again. May God and Becca forgive me, but I have never felt the intensity I do with you. I love you. I’ve only said those words to two women in my life. I’ll never say them to another. Time is precious, my Frannie. I will not waste one minute of it with you. Never again will I let love slip through my fingers. Maybe I’m as crazy as you say, but I believe in forever. I won’t give up, I won’t walk away and I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.”

  {

  “Oh, you so got laid.” Tracey grinned.

  Steve coughed and sputtered into his coffee cup.

  A deep flush burning her cheeks, Frannie hung her coat on the wooden rack beside the filing cabinet. “A little louder, Tracey. I don’t think marketing heard you.”

  Tracey waved her hand in a careless manner. “Screw marketing. Dish it, chick. I want all the gory details.”

  “And I’ll be leaving on that note.” Steve beat a quick escape back into his office and made a grand production of closing the door. Determined to ignore the funky office manager, Frannie hurried to her desk but Tracey was hot on her heels.

  “So? Tell me. Was it like skyrockets? Did your toes curl? Or was it like total letdown?”

  Mimicking Jinx with one brow perched in mild irritation, Frannie pointedly asked, “Don’t you have work to do?”

  “It sucked! I knew it!” Totally ignoring her, Tracey hopped up on the desk corner and stared at her with rabid fascination. “I knew men like that were too good to be true. Dreamboat on the outside, shipwreck in the sack. Was it like fall-asleep-in-the-middle sex? Was he hung like a Tic Tac? Wham, bam, so sorry ma’am? Oh God, was he freaky hairy or worse, slick willie? Some bodybuilders shave everything and then grease up to look bigger, ya know. And swimmers shave their legs, don’t they?”

  “Tracey! Stop. It was fine.” A satisfied little grin curled her lips at the corners. “It was better than fine.”

  An impish light sparkled in Tracey’s blue eyes and she leaned in close, settling in for a good round of gossip. But Frannie was reluctant to share the most private details of her time with Jinx. It was too special, too personal. She wanted to hold the memory close and savor it.
It was simply too tender to be discussed. When she told this to Tracey, the office manager cocked her head and stared at her a long moment before slowly nodding.

  “Okay, I understand. We all have our secrets. Watch this, I’ll change the subject. So, are we still on for shopping this week? I have to get my mom’s present and have it mailed by Friday or it’ll never reach London before Christmas.”

  Frannie’s first inclination was to make an excuse. She didn’t want to give up one free minute with Jinx. But then she remembered Jinx was a phase, Tracey was a real friend. Flash in the pan or friend for life? No brainer, no matter what my heart says. Long after he was gone, Tracey would still be there.

  Shoulders pulled back, she nodded firmly. “Absolutely. Let’s hit the stores Wednesday night.”

  {

  Lost in her paperwork, the ping of her internet messenger made Frannie jump. Folders and spreadsheets held in place with one hand, she swiveled her chair to see the screen. Toyman02 had sent her a small yellow smiley with hearts bouncing outward. A smile tilted her lips and she tucked the ink pen between her teeth to free her hands.

  Fransull: Don’t you have work to do?

  Toyman02: Too busy thinking of you.

  Fransull: Good thoughts?

  Toyman02: Naughty thoughts.

  Fransull: Want to share them?

  Toyman02: Yep. In person. Tonight.

  Fransull: Can’t wait.

  Toyman02: Love you

  Fransull: Nutball

  {

  Somewhere deep in the house, the gentle rhythmic heartbeat of the furnace clicked on. Barely awake, Jinx listened to it breathe warmth through the ductwork. Frannie lay undisturbed, snuggled against him, her feet tucked securely against his shins. This was where he was meant to be, with Frannie, nothing between them. The past few nights he had fallen asleep cradling her against him and awoken to find her still there. This was right.

  The alarm would sound in a few hours and they would wake and stretch before reaching for each other. Early morning was quickly becoming his favorite time with Frannie. Tongue thick with sleep, eyes still closed, she would nuzzle his skin and ask how he’d slept. In hushed voices, they’d speak of nighttime dreams and daytime plans. The snooze button would sound and Frannie would give one last cat-like stretch before pushing back the blankets and heading to the bathroom. He would grab his running shoes and she would pipe in with some crack about being one of those people, those nuts who ran in any weather. But she always kissed him goodbye, the thick taste of slumber on her lips.

  In those few quiet minutes, there was no one else in the world. Just them. He loved the way she made small noises, arched her back and thrust her breasts up in a slow wakeup dance. The fragile morning would bathe her face in a hazy light as she twitched her nose and yawned. This was what love was to him. Not sex, not wedding rings and flowers. This intimacy, the sharing of deep secrets and small thoughts. Exposing the very fiber of your soul and not being afraid. Frannie was getting there. Brick by brick, she was helping him dismantle the wall around her heart. Each hole opened more of her spirit to him, drew him closer, made him believe things would end like he dreamed. He resisted asking her to marry him every day. Patience wasn’t something he was used to but he gulped it like Gatorade now, holding back the desire to make her his forever. If he pounced too soon, she’d freeze up and everything would be lost. He couldn’t lose her.

  A sleepy murmur crossed her lips and she snuggled closer to him. Even in sleep, she came to him. Things would work out, they had to. He had to believe that. Contentment spread through his veins and he moved to pull her closer when her stomach snored. Confused, he cracked one eye and peered down.

  Hocus was curled into a tight knot in the crook of her body, emitting soft feline snores. It had taken a few days, but he’d realized that Hocus the Man-Hater had smaller ears than the sleepy Pocus. Now he could easily tell them apart. With slow determination, Jinx reached down and stroked the now silent terror. The cat stopped snoring and lifted his broad head. Those glowing yellow orbs stared straight into his soul.

  “I love her too, cat. I’m not going to hurt her and I’m not leaving so you just better get used to sharing her.”

  The midnight-colored animal regarded him with a somber look before lowering his head back to his paws. Well, what do you know? The killer cat caved. Deciding it had to be a good omen, Jinx continued his stroking until a low purr filled the night. He drifted back to sleep, a truce declared between man and beast. Now if he could only draw the cat’s owner in as softly, everything would be perfect.

  He dreamed of Becca for the first time in over a year. Long honey-gold hair swayed in bright sunshine and she smiled at him. Just a bit hazy, her face was bathed in serene filtered light like an angel. Slender fingers traced his jaw and he wanted to touch her but couldn’t. His arms wouldn’t move. A flash of guilt intruded in his dream and she shook her head. Her lips never moved but he felt her approval, her hope that he had found happiness again.

  Deep in dreamland, the paralyzing force released. Jinx reached out a hand and a smooth feminine palm slipped into his. It fit so perfectly against his, he smiled. They were meant to be. When he raised his face, it wasn’t moss green eyes he saw smiling at him but shimmering brandy ones filled with joy. Becca’s blessing only sweetened Frannie’s love.

  A sharp scrape on her stomach roused Frannie and she turned to the man beside her. Hocus had stretched and sunk his claws into her skin, waking her just in time to glimpse Jinx’s nocturnal expressions. His lip curled in sleep, tilting the curve of his mouth in a soft, languid manner. Frannie propped herself on one elbow to watch the endearing display. Gawd, I love him. Tenderness rushed her and she shifted to press a kiss to his lips when he breathed a woman’s name.

  It wasn’t hers. Reality soured the night and she lay back on her pillow. She’d almost forgotten.

  {

  “What about this?” Tracey held up a loud, flowery sequined shirt.

  “That’s nasty. Why can’t you be like a normal person and get your mother a nice gift certificate?”

  “Then I would totally blow my image as the screwed-up kid. Nah, I always get her the most hideous thing I can find and she pretends she likes it. It’s a tradition. Remember the ‘I Smell Poo’ talking toilet-paper holder? She swears it was the talk of her last bridge party.”

  “How does she like London?”

  “Okay, I guess. Her latest husband’s doing well so she’s happy. That’s all that matters. Hey, what about this?”

  Frannie stared at the neon frog napkin holder, complete with lily pad and flies and crinkled her nose. “Trying too hard.”

  With her quick nod of agreement, the two set off down the aisle. Frannie tried to sneak a look at her watch, but Tracey jumped on it. “Okay, what gives? Loverboy waiting for you at home or something?”

  “Something like that. He’s going to call later.” The blush that warmed her cheeks had to be vivid under the harsh store lighting.

  “So, is this getting serious?”

  “Serious? No. Just, well, you know how it is with a new relationship. In fact, I think today’s the longest we’ve been apart since we met.”

  Tracey stopped pawing through a pile of fake-fur handbags and stared at her. One cherry red lip caught between her teeth, she worried it back and forth before speaking.

  “Ya know, maybe this thing could work out. Maybe you shouldn’t be so rigid. I mean, yeah, Mark was an asshole and all, but that shouldn’t stop you from being happy. It could work, right?”

  The little princess inside Frannie leapt for joy at those words but the bespectacled schoolmarm in support stockings smacked her down. Mark’s voice rang in her ear.

  “I thought it would work, Fran. You’re everything I thought I wanted in a wife and yet I can’t stand the mediocre sight of you.”

  Swallowing a small lump, Frannie busied herself sorting leopard-print bags from tiger-striped ones. “I’ve been down that road one too many times,
already. This is fun. I get wild sex, a few laughs and some great memories. What could be better?”

  Tracey snorted. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a couple kids and a dog in a house with a white picket fence while loverboy’s warming your bed.”

  Frannie felt her brows crash together and she stared at Tracey, who had a sudden interest in beaded lampshades. “Who are you and what have you done with my cynical friend?”

  Tracey burst out laughing. “Cynical I still am. But maybe I’m starting to think dreams can come true.”

  In a surprised flash, Frannie rushed around the display bin and grabbed Tracey’s hands. She was vibrating with curiosity and felt like squealing. “Who is it? I know you and you can’t keep a secret. Who are you seeing? What’s his name? Where’d you meet him?”

  Tracey giggled, looking about ten years old, and walked away. Over her shoulder, she tossed, “You have your secrets and I have mine.”

  {

  The bed was empty. Frannie padded to the kitchen, her ratty slippers shuffling on the cold floor. The microwave told her it was two seventeen in the morning but she couldn’t sleep. She missed Jinx. They had spoken by phone, three times in fact. But she still missed his presence. This was the first night since they’d become lovers they slept apart. A night out with Tracey had been great fun but coming home to an empty house sucked. Strange, it never bothered her before.

  Her hand strayed to the phone before she could stop it. The cold plastic seemed to mock her weakness and she drew her hand back, putting it firmly in her robe pocket. No, she was not going to call him. It was too late. He would be asleep. Calling him would show her growing need for him. No, she was not going to call.

  The phone was ringing in her ear before she knew what her treacherous hand had done.

  “’Lo?” came the sleepy deep timbre of his voice.