“Yes.” Only it didn’t feel like that anymore, after he had walked away from her, and without her rings.
“Ah.” Smiling, Jane glanced at her. “Yes, I think your Jon is here. At least I see someone I know with that name, and he looks pretty worried. You didn’t tell me your Jon was that Jon.”
Naomi struggled to free herself from the quilt and rise from the couch. Her legs were shaky, and she had a hard time standing up. Naomi held on to the corner of a cabinet to face Jon when he rushed into the house.
“Are you okay?” He stopped right in front of her, his hands out as if he was ready to catch her. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head, swallowing the tears, mourning that he wasn’t taking her into his arms, wasn’t touching her.
The others came in; her father, Sal, LaGasse, and a group of men in FBI jackets, hands on the weapons just in case. From the kitchen, Jane’s dog howled at the commotion. Jane went to calm him down.
“I’m not hurt.” Naomi held up her hand. “But he took my rings, Jon. He threw them into the sea, and we have to go down there and find them, only I don’t exactly know where it was, so I’ll have to search for them, okay?”
“Yes, yes, don’t worry about that now.” Carefully, gently, Jon drew her into his arms. “Don’t worry about those rings right now.”
“Sir.” One of the agents touched Jon’s shoulder. “We should take your wife to the hospital. She should be checked out for several reasons.”
She buried her face in Jon’s shirt and closed her eyes. Finally, at last she felt safe again. He was holding her, his fingers stroking her neck; his breath felt warm and familiar on her brow.
“In a minute,” he said, and she could feel his voice resonate through his chest, caressing her cheek resting against it. “Give us a moment. Then we’ll go to the hospital together. We’ll go to Manhattan though, to my brother’s hospital, where we can be sure of privacy. And now, if you’ll excuse us…”
“Out,” Olaf added. “Please, gentlemen. There’s nothing to do here anyway.”
They wanted to talk to Jane, and she followed them outside to give her report, brief and useless as it was. Naomi could see her pointing, giving directions, running her fingers through the short curls behind her ears from time to time. She was such a small woman, narrow and straight, but she radiated calm strength. “I didn’t see him,” Naomi could hear her say. “I didn’t see anything until Naomi appeared beside my car and asked for help. After that, of course, I didn’t bother to look around. We just drove off. She looked distressed and disheveled enough to believe her. No, the place is near here, and yes, it will be open. It’s one of those twenty-four-hour places. You can’t miss it.” One of the men asked something, and she replied, “I really didn’t notice any of the cars parked there. I was thinking of what I was going to order; and after Naomi got into my car, all I could think about was getting out of there as fast as I could.”
Sal was gazing at her from where he stood in the door, his face old and gray, deep smudges under his eyes, his mouth in a tight line. Naomi could see silvery stubble on his chin and cheeks; and even his usually wild locks seemed subdued, tired.
“I really just want to go home,” Naomi said. “Can’t we just go home, Jon? I’m so exhausted. Please?”
Jane vanished down the hallway and returned a minute later, a stuffed, pink elephant in her hands. She handed it to Naomi, who took it and pressed it to her body.
“Here.” She smiled at Naomi. “I’m giving it to you. Take him.”
Naomi let go of Jon for long enough to wipe her face and embrace her. “Thank you for everything. Thank you for the cake; it was delicious.”
“Yes,” Jon added, “Thank you for helping my wife. I promise, I’ll not forget this. Thank you.”
“Anyone would have done the same.” The blue eyes sparkled at him. “A rather wild night, wasn’t it? I’m glad it ended well.”
“That piece of paper with your phone number,” Naomi said. “Can I have it? Can I call you in a few days and maybe take you to lunch or dinner or something? I’d really like to do that.”
Jane pursed her lips. “You can have my phone number, but you don’t have to take me out. Really. It’s fine.” She glanced at Jon. “I’m just glad this is over and you are safe.”
“I’ll call you.” Naomi took her hand and pressed it tightly. “I really want to do this. Thank you.”
She fell asleep halfway across Staten Island, nestled into Jon’s arms, her head on his shoulder.
He held her close and watched the lights slip by as the limousine sped over the now empty highway.
Olaf, sitting across from Jon, had been gazing at Naomi the entire time, his face inscrutable, his lips set in a stern line.
“She should be in a hospital, Jon,” he remarked, speaking in a low voice, trying not to wake her. “They are right; she should be checked.”
Jon shook his head. “She doesn’t want to. Olaf, she’s had enough of hospitals. Let her get some rest. Let her sleep in her own bed tonight, and then if she needs it I’ll take her myself tomorrow.”
“Insanity. You are as insane as she is. You and my daughter, you were made for each other. Drama, obsession, impulsiveness. There’s no talking sense to either of you.” Disgusted, Olaf leaned back into the seat.
“Well, thank you, Olaf.” Jon grinned mirthlessly. “Thank you for saying that. I really do think we were made for each other, yes.”
Sal, in the other corner seat, tapped nervously against the window. “What I’d like to know is how Parker got hold of her. I can’t believe she just got into his car. Not even Naomi is that naive.”
Jon didn’t reply. He’d been asking himself the same thing and then shied away from possible scenarios. The idea of Naomi drugged or forced into a car and abducted, harmed, was more than he could take.
Parker. He hadn’t seemed like a threat, a nuisance perhaps, another journalist who wanted a closer look; but nothing more than that. It scared Jon that he had underestimated him, had not looked harder; he had felt spikes of jealousy and possessiveness at the way he had danced around Naomi, but he hadn’t felt threatened.
“He didn’t seem dangerous.” He said it softly, thoughtfully, without looking at Sal.
There was no answer for quite a while, not until they had reached the ramp to the Verazzano Bridge. His eyes closed, Jon listened to the rhythmic thumping of the wheels as they raced over the tar joints in the asphalt. It sounded as if the bridge had a heartbeat, as if it was a big beast that had come to life as their vehicle rode along the ridge of its back.
“It may have been my fault.”
Startled, Jon opened his eyes to look at Sal.
“My mistake,” Sal repeated. “I should have acted earlier. Only there was nothing tangible, nothing I could grasp…” He shifted uncomfortably. “When I saw you off at the airport in Hamburg, on your way to Italy, he was there. He was on the visitor’s platform, taking photographs of the airfield and the hangar where your jet was parked. I didn’t think he could see a whole lot, it was too far away, so I just followed him to check-in and watched him leave. And I thought that was that. Seems like I was wrong.”
He was so tired. Jon had the feeling that every bone in his body was aching, as if his skin was old leather and his hair had turned gray in a matter of hours. There’d been no rest since they had gotten off the plane.
“It’s not your fault, Sal. You can’t have every person arrested who trails me. Us. I bet he wasn’t the only one lying in wait for us.”
“Yeah.” Sal glanced at Olaf, who was listening to their conversation.
“You would have to arrest all those fans who hang out in the hotel lobbies, or at the backstage entrances, too.” Gently, Jon tried to shift Naomi to make her more
comfortable. She muttered and clamped her hand onto his shirt. He looked down at it, at the bare fingers, missing her rings, and covered it with his own. “It’s over now. I think Naomi was careless. I don’t want to blame her for what happened; I know she was very upset and terribly hurt when we parted. She would never have allowed Parker near her under normal circumstances.”
“Why was she so upset?” Sal drew his brows together. “She must have been terribly upset to get into a stranger’s car.”
“Yes.” Jon laid his cheek on her hair. “She was. It doesn’t matter, Sal. It’s over. We need a few days of rest and quiet now to get everything sorted out. That’s all we need.”
“We’re here.” It sounded like a sigh of relief, coming from Sal; and it almost made Jon smile, because it echoed his own feelings so well.
The house was brightly lit. They could see movement through the curtains, then the door flew open and Lucia came running down the steps, right into Olaf’s arms. “Is she okay? Is Naomi okay?”
“She’s fine. Just exhausted and pretty grimy.” Olaf patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. She’ll be her old stubborn self after a good night’s sleep. Let’s go home, dear. And I think you should maybe bring Joshua. These two have some talking to do when Naomi wakes up.”
Joshua, standing at the top of the stairs, his hands pushed into the back pockets of his jeans, watched how Jon lifted Naomi out of the car. “I’m coming,” he said. “Let me get my bag.”
“You’re really leaving?” Jon was sure he had misheard. “You’re leaving your mother and me now, after what she’s been through? I’m sure she’d like to have you around tomorrow morning.”
Naomi opened her eyes. “It’s all right. You go, Joshua. And Jon, please set me down. I can walk.”
“Yes, I’m leaving. I’ve had it with the drama.” Joshua glared at them. “The more I watch you, the more I think I want to move away, and soon.”
He walked away to the waiting car.
Jon set Naomi down. She went into the house and up the stairs withour looking back at her father, who was waiting for Jon near the garden gate.
In passing, Joshua brushed his fingers over the back of her hand. “Bye, Mom. I’ll be at Grandfather’s if you need me. I’m glad you’re okay.” Joshua hurried into the waiting car before she could reply.
Olaf motioned Jon away from the door, just out of earshot. “We need to find that man,” Olaf said quietly. “We can’t let him get away with this.”
Surprised, Jon gazed at him, waiting for an explanation.
“You’re not going to wait for the police to do anything, Jon? Surely you have more clout than that?” Olaf’s face was bland, a study in cool aloofness. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and got into the car.
Among other things, Lucia had bought them a coffeemaker. A big, silver thing with lots of buttons and a spout for milk. It took up a lot of room on the kitchen counter, but the coffee it produced was excellent. Jon stood and watched it burble and steam while the aroma wafted around him, soothing and fortifying at the same time.
As soon as they had been alone, right after Sal had left, Naomi had gone upstairs, silently, softly, her steps barely audible. The bedroom door fell shut, the sound like a final chord in the drama of the day.
Coffee, he needed coffee, and now. Listening to the hiss of the machine, Jon tried to gather his tired thoughts into coherence. Olaf’s words rang in his ears, the mysterious question about his clout, and consequences. He had liked the menace in those words, delivered with a perfectly straight face and without inflection. He liked the suggestion that Parker might get hurt, police or not, that he would see punishment for bringing harm to Naomi. Ice-cold sweat ran down his back, imagining Parker touching her, forcing her rings from her finger, making her cry at their loss.
Jon balled his hands into fists on the counter. He would have another talk with Olaf and find out what he had meant.
With the coffee mugs in hand, he made his way up the stairs, turning off the lights along the way.
The black dress was on the floor, tossed there as if she never wanted to touch it again. Naomi was still in the bath; Jon could hear the water in the shower running. He put the coffee down on the bedside table and went to listen at the door, certain he had heard weeping; he did not go inside but gave her some privacy.
Kicking off his shoes, he stretched out on the bed. His eyes begged to shut instantly, he was that exhausted; but he forced himself to stay awake.
The coffee helped. It was hot and strong, the aroma deep and spicy. Lucia had chosen well; Jon knew he would have to thank her for this.
The bathroom door opened.
Naomi, wrapped in a towel, appeared and stopped when she saw him. “Oh. You’re here.”
“Yes. I brought you some coffee. Do you want it?” He held out the mug to her. She took it and sat on the edge of the bed, where she waited—her hands wrapped around the coffee mug—for him to speak.
“Feeling better?” Jon knew it was a brainless question, but it was the best he could come up with.
She hadn’t looked directly at him since he’d brought her home, hardly spoken to him. It felt as if an abyss of silence had opened between them, and it broke his heart.
“I’m all right, just very tired.” Carefully she took a sip of her coffee. “Jane gave me coffee too. I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep. Maybe it would be better if I left you alone and went down to the couch. Then at least you can rest.” She got up and wandered over to her dresser; where she dug out a nightgown. On the point of dropping the towel and putting it on, she glanced at him and went back into the bathroom.
Slowly, shyly, she came back, her nightgown on, and stood at the end of the bed.
“I don’t know what to say to you,” Jon said. “I don’t know what to say. We will have to talk about this, about everything that happened today; and I really mean everything. But just for now, Naomi, for this night, can’t we just go to sleep as if nothing is wrong? Can’t you come into my arms and sleep on my shoulder like always, and can we please pretend everything is all right? And talk tomorrow, when we are rested and calm? Will you please come to me?” He held out his hand to her. She took it.
chapter 35
She was in his arms, and that was all that mattered.
Jon had pulled up the quilt some time before dawn, when her limbs had grown cold, and curled around her, his face in her hair, and listened to her breathing. At last he had fallen asleep himself, the comforting warmth of her body close to his, the towers of the city blinking at him through the darkness like sentinels, like giants watching over them..
It was nearly noon when he woke. Naomi was gone, her pillow cold. Frightened, scared that she had, in the light of the new day, decided to leave him after all, Jon jumped from the bed, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He found a pair of jeans, slipped into them, and hurried downstairs, trying to think where she might have gone, cursing his deep sleep, berating this habit of hers to run away every time something went wrong.
The house smelled of coffee. The familiar, welcome scent drifted toward him through the hall and up the stairs. It was fresh coffee too, the smell hot and heady; and he was sure that the scent of bacon was mixed into it.
Naomi was in the kitchen.
“I made breakfast,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel. “I hope it’s okay with you. There was a lot of food in the fridge, so I made eggs and bacon.” With a shrug she glanced at the frying pan. “They’re not as good as your omelette, but I’m sure they are edible. I thought if we can sleep in the same bed we can also eat together.”
There was toast and butter, even honey, and it made Jon realize how terribly hungry he was. “Why in the world shouldn’t we eat together? We’re married, aren’t we? We live together; we love each other. Wel
l, I love you. You’ll have to tell me you love me at some point today.”
Her lips twitched, but she did not reply and instead put a plate down on the table for him, and a stack of bread.
Jon noted how her eyes traveled over his bare chest, and he grinned. “Come here.” She was in her bathrobe, her hair still uncombed, and she looked as lovely as she had the first day he had met her.
“No.” Naomi folded her hands and stood like a schoolgirl, solemn, a little sad, and very still. “We have to talk first. I want to know if you’re only here because of what happened last night or if you have come back to me.”
“You silly girl.” He nearly choked on the bacon. “I never left you! What makes you think that?”
“But you did leave me! You got out of the car and told me you had enough of me.”
“Are you crazy?” Jon lunged for her and caught her sleeve. “Come here. Don’t stand there as if you’re going to be punished.” There wasn’t a lot of resistance as he pulled her down on his knees. “I was very hurt, that’s true. You, telling me I have no say in Joshua’s life, that hurt, Naomi; it really did. I want to be his father; I want to do everything right for him.” He hesitated, uncertain if this was the right time, the right moment to talk about this, when they should actually be talking about the abduction and what had happened to her. “Can’t you please trust in me? Do you really think my decisions are that bad?”
“No, of course not.” With a sigh, she settled against him. “I know you mean well. I was just so terribly hurt when you signed those documents for Harvard without letting me have a say in it. It felt as if…” She hesitated. “It felt as if suddenly everything I had hoped for, everything I worked for, didn’t mean anything anymore. As if you and my father had decided that my time with Joshua was over, and it was your turn to take over. I felt pushed aside, and it hurt terribly, when I had never done anything but work toward that music career for him.”
Under the Same Sun (Stone Trilogy) Page 31