by Sharon Sala
Suddenly the hallway ended and they were walking out into a light. Before she could ask Raphael where they were, Luke was suddenly standing before them. She felt the smile spreading on her face and the joy growing in her heart and remembered what it felt like to make love to this man.
She turned to Raphael.
“It’s over, isn’t it, Rafie? Now we can all live happily ever after.”
But Raphael shook his head, and to Jade’s dismay, he began to fade before her eyes.
“We can’t live anywhere,” he said. “But you can…and with Luke. He loves you, honey. Trust him enough to love him back.”
Raphael was fading swiftly now. Jade could still see him, but she could also see through him. It was enough to send her over the edge of panic.
“No! Rafie, no! Don’t go. Please don’t go!”
Now he was completely gone. Although she could still hear his voice, there wasn’t a wisp of him left.
“Live your life to the fullest, Jade Cochrane. Live for yourself…and for me.”
Then Jade felt Luke’s hand on her arm and the rush of his breath against her cheek.
“Sweetheart…it’s time to go. Are you ready?”
Jade felt torn between the past and the future, caught between betraying Raphael and following her heart to Luke. She turned to face Luke and saw the love on his face and the truth in his eyes, and still she couldn’t make her feet move.
Then, suddenly, she felt a pressure in the middle of her back, as if someone was pushing her forward. Tears filled her eyes, then spilled down her face, because she knew it was Raphael, still giving her a nudge in the right direction.
In the dream, she reached for Luke’s hand, taking comfort in the warmth and strength of his touch as he led her forward toward the light. She wanted to turn around, to make sure that Raphael was truly gone, but something inside told her not to look back.
She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.
It was morning.
Despite Luke’s best efforts, the storm front refused to budge, and he accepted the fact that it was going to take him longer to get home. So bright and early that morning, he made a call to Jade.
“Cochrane residence.”
“Hey, Velma, it’s Luke. May I please talk to Jade?”
“Yes. I’ll have to give her a buzz on the intercom. I think she’s in her studio, and my knees aren’t up to those third floor stairs.”
“Studio? Third floor? What’s been going on?”
“Oh, the Mister has been plotting a surprise. He took the two biggest room on the top floor and made an artist’s studio for Jade. She was so pleased. My, but that girl can paint, can’t she?”
“Yes, she can.”
“Okay, hang on. I’ll get her on the phone.”
A few seconds later, he heard an extension pick up, and then the hesitancy in a very beloved voice.
“Luke?”
Just the sound of her voice made him smile.
“Hello, baby…how ya’ doing?”
“I’m good, Luke. Really, I am. I have an appointment with Dr. DiMatto today, and last night I had a dream that was different…even good.” She paused, then added, “You were in it.”
His smile widened. “I was?”
“Yes. You came and took me out of the dark.”
His vision blurred, and he was glad she couldn’t see his face.
“Jade, darling…”
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “Now tell me about L.A. Last night you were so brief. It was Solomon, wasn’t it?”
He had to gather his thoughts, because he knew she would want to know everything.
“Yes, it was him. He didn’t mean to, but he gave himself away.”
“What’s happening? Can they do anything? It’s been so long.”
“The Feds arrested him. He’ll be charged with kidnapping, and a host of other things that will keep him behind bars for the rest of his life.”
“Was he connected to Frank Lawson’s hit man?”
“I don’t think so. They’re still in the investigation phase, but I’d say not. It’s storming here, so planes aren’t flying. Even if I rent a car, I can’t be there before Saturday at the earliest. Are you all right with that?”
She knew he was referring to her fear of sleeping alone.
“I slept in my old bedroom last night. It’s next to Daddy’s room. Even though I didn’t have nightmares, I knew he was nearby. But I will get better. I am getting better. I know and accept that it’s going to take time.”
“I’m with you, baby. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Truly? You know in your heart that I will always be there for you?”
“Yes, Luke. I do.”
“So when I get home, we’ll talk about us, okay?”
She hugged the promise to herself as she leaned against the window.
“Yes. We will talk about us.”
“Tell Sam I called. Tell him what’s going on. I’ll call you tonight when I stop to get a room.”
“I wish it would be here,” she said softly.
Luke groaned. “Not half as much as I do, sweetheart.” Then he glanced at his watch. “Okay. I gotta go. As my granddad used to say, ‘I’m burning daylight.’ Love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said softly, and visibly winced when the connection ended.
Luke headed due east. The days passed slowly, marked by his phone calls to Jade and the times when he had to stop for food and gas, or to sleep. He caught a plane in Denver, then had another long layover in Oklahoma City, when the storm caught up with him again. Finally his plane took off, and he relaxed, knowing he would be with Jade before dark.
During the same time, Jade had gone through two sessions with Antonia DiMatto, finished the painting of Luke and started studying for her GED. Her goals were simple. Education, healing and Luke, and not necessarily in that order.
As predicted, her drawings had hit the tabloids, causing a stir all over the country as women recognized husbands, sisters recognized brothers, and parents recognized sons. Some of the faces belonged to men who, like Margaret Cochrane, were already dead. Others were already incarcerated for similar crimes against other children. But there were a few, like Frank Lawson, whose lives had been carefully crafted lies, lies that had come tumbling down around them like the proverbial house of cards.
The pictures spawned a melee of separations and divorces—even a couple of arrests.
Jade felt vindicated in a way that nothing else could have done. She felt no pity for the men who’d created perfect worlds for themselves, only for the women who’d married them and the children they’d continued to molest.
Luke had called her at least twice a day since he’d started home, and today, he was due to return. She didn’t know how to say what she felt in her heart, but she knew that she wanted him home. She needed to see his face, to know that he’d seen the worst of her life and to accept that he still loved her in spite of it.
And there was another milestone that had happened since he’d been gone. After that night, when she’d slept in her old room and dreamed that last dream, the dreams hadn’t come again. Not even the nightmares—not even Raphael.
She didn’t hear him in her head anymore. He was just a memory in her heart. It was Luke’s voice that called to her from the miles and through the phones, making her laugh, teasing her into embarrassed giggles and praising her for staying so strong.
But three days was a lifetime for a woman trying to be reborn. Even though her father stood strongly at her side, she needed reassurance from the man who held her heart.
Twenty-Four
It was just after four in the afternoon when Luke pulled into Sam’s driveway and started toward the house. The noticeable absence of media on the way through the neighborhood had been startling, and then he realized that eventually the news of something new had inevitably superseded the drama of one woman’s long journey home.
He’d thought lon
g and hard, on the long drive home, about what he should do to keep Jade become the woman he knew she could be, and though it hurt him to think that absenting himself from her, even for a short while, would be helpful, he knew it was true. She would never be able to completely trust herself until she learned how strong she really was. And that wasn’t going to happen if he stepped into Raphael’s shoes and began cosseting her from any-and every-thing she didn’t want to face.
So it was with mixed feelings that he pulled up to Sam’s house and parked. Before he could gather his thoughts, Jade was at the door. He saw her and waved as he got out.
And then she was coming toward him on the run, with the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. He caught her in midstep, lifted her off her feet and then swung her around. Her arms snaked around his neck. Her head dropped back against his arm as they circled in place. Then he felt her lips on his mouth and heard her laughter as she called out his name.
He was home.
Luke had stayed for dinner with Sam and Jade. Paul and Shelly Hudson had come over, and he could tell that Shelly was doing what she could to reassure Jade that she was special to all of them.
Their questions had come at him fast and furious all through the meal. He’d done his best to answer without promising something out of his control, but he was confident that both Lawson and Jacks would go to prison. What Luke hadn’t known until his arrival in St. Louis was that the drawings had gone national.
“Jade, how do you feel about that?” he asked.
“What? You mean am I worried about people seeing me and knowing that all those men—”
“No!” His answer was abrupt and ended her train of thought. “What I should have said was, are you expecting those men to be brought to justice, too?”
“Oh.” She thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. “Not really. I mean, I wasn’t the only one. The other girls with the People went through the same things I did. What’s happening is good enough for me. I understand about the statute of limitations, and I know that proving my claims would be next to impossible. However, guilt is its own brand of justice, right, Daddy?”
Sam’s pride in Jade grew with each passing day. While he would have liked to see each and every mother’s son of them crucified, he was willing to settle for the man who’d scarred her and the one who’d sold her.
“You’re right about that, honey. Now how about some dessert? Velma made chocolate cake.”
“I’m in,” Luke said.
“Me too,” Jade said.
“I shouldn’t,” Shelly said. “But I’m going to anyway.”
Paul patted his stomach. “Never too full for cake.”
“I heard that,” Velma said, as she entered carrying a tray with five hefty servings of chocolate cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on each plate.
“What if we hadn’t wanted any dessert?” Sam asked.
“Then I’d be eating good tonight, wouldn’t I?” she quipped, and smirked when everyone laughed.
Later, the Hudsons left with promises to return the favor of a meal soon. Shortly afterward, Velma went home, and Sam retired to his room to read before going to sleep. Luke and Jade finally had time to themselves. Luke knew he could stay, but he didn’t think he should. Jade had embarked on a mission to regain control of her life, and if he behaved as if she needed to be protected again, it wouldn’t be sending her a positive message. The only problem was, he didn’t know how to tell her. Oddly enough, it was Jade who showed him how.
“I want to show you something,” she said, and led the way upstairs to her new studio.
Luke didn’t let on that Velma had already spilled the beans about Sam’s surprise.
“Oh…man…this is amazing,” he said, as he moved around the rooms, admiring all that she showed him.
Then he realized there was a canvas on an easel near the window.
“Is that the painting you were doing?”
“Yes.”
“May I see?”
She nodded, then turned away, unwilling to look at Luke’s expression as he saw it for the first time.
He hadn’t known it was of him. He studied the portrait, realizing that she’d done it from that sketch she’d made the night he’d stayed by her bed. In it, she had portrayed him as someone weary, but faithful—ever watchful toward the covered figure lying alone on the bed.
He turned toward her.
She was still looking away.
“Jade.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
She did.
“Is this the way you see me?”
She nodded.
He took her in his arms, then hugged her.
Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry.
“You humble me. I am honored, more than you will ever know.”
“You watched over me…like Rafie used to do.” Then her expression changed. “Only Raphael lied to me. You don’t.”
Luke sighed. She was still transferring her grief into anger, but not in a positive way.
“Raphael didn’t lie to you.”
“But he didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
“Well, maybe he tried so hard to protect you as a child that he never gave you credit for growing up. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was just that he didn’t know he could lean on you, as you had once leaned on him.”
The tears in her eyes welled and spilled over. “Then that’s my fault, not his, because I was always leaning on him. Every night. Every time a strange man got too close. Every time I panicked and wanted to run.”
“So you’re not really mad at him.”
She swiped angrily at the tears, scrubbing them away as if they offended.
“I think the person I’m maddest at is me.”
“Do you know why?”
“Because I’ve leaned on everyone in my life except myself.”
“So what’s your solution?”
She sighed. “Depend on me first.”
“And that’s my signal to go home,” he said gently.
“But I didn’t mean…I don’t want…”
“Yes, you did,” Luke said gently. “And yes, you do. I won’t be any farther away than a phone call. And I fully expect to be taking you to dinner soon. We’ll talk and go places and everything a man and woman do when they’re falling in love.”
Now the tears fell, silently and swiftly.
“Promise you aren’t mad at me.”
“God no,” Luke said, and took her in his arms. “I’m so in love with you that I ache. I want to marry you and make love to you for the rest of my life. I want babies and grandchildren and laughter….” Then he swiped his thumb across her cheek, momentarily stalling the flow from her eyes. “Even tears. It’s what living is all about, and I want to do it with you. Only you’re not there yet, and we both know it.”
“How will I know when it happens?” she asked.
“You’ll know. And when you do, you’ll tell me, and then I’ll give us both something to dream about. Right now, you need to learn to trust yourself before you give your trust to me.”
She nodded.
He touched the canvas again, feeling the love with which she’d painted it.
“Is this mine?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, and tried to smile, then gave up and buried her face against his shirtfront.
“Love you, Luke Kelly.”
“Love you, too, darling. Sweet dreams.”
Then he picked up the painting and made his way home.
October: St. Louis, Missouri
It started raining in the night. Jade heard the rumble of thunder and rolled over in bed long enough to see a brief flash of lightning.
She could almost hear Raphael telling her that rain washes all the troubles away, but he wasn’t around to remind her, and anyway, she knew that was no longer true.
She got out of bed and stumbled to the windows, then pulled the curtains shut. The room seeme
d chilly, so she got another blanket from the closet and spread it at the foot of her bed before crawling back between the covers.
Now she was warm and settled back in the bed, but she couldn’t find her comfort spot. Frustrated that she’d awakened so early, she glanced at the clock. It was a little after four. It would be daybreak before long, the first day of October. She pulled the covers up close around her ears and then snuggled deep down in the pillows.
Almost immediately, her thoughts went to Luke. It had been a week since she’d talked to him, and it had probably been the longest week of her life. Over the past two months, he’d taken her to dinner, laughed with her, teased with her, and at the end of each evening, deposited her safely on Sam’s doorstep, then waved as he drove away.
Then, seven days ago, he’d called her unexpectedly, and told her he would be gone to Alaska for most of the week and that he would stay in touch. She hadn’t talked to him since, part of which was her fault.
The first time he’d called, she’d been in a session with Dr. DiMatto and had turned off her cell phone. When she’d tried to return the call, his phone had been off. They’d been playing phone tag ever since.
But his absence had only confirmed something she’d known for some time. She didn’t want to live her life without him. Antonia DiMatto had told her she was ready to move on. Her father kept telling her over and over how proud he was of her. And last month, her grief had come to a point where she could face doing a painting of Raphael.
There had been an aspect of the portrait that she hadn’t seen until it was done. It had been her father who’d been the one to call it to her attention, but now, every time she looked at it, it stunned her. No matter where you stood, Raphael’s eyes always seemed to be looking just beyond the viewer’s shoulder, as if he was looking at something that no one else could see. She didn’t know how she’d done it. It had been unintentional, and something she doubted she could ever duplicate.
Thunder rumbled again. She rolled over onto her back and thumped the covers again but couldn’t get comfortable. The bed seemed too large—too empty to sleep in alone.
She’d learned to live with herself—even be comfortable with herself. Only now and then did a twinge of anxiety surface, but then she would think of what she’d been through and know there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do on her own. But out of that had come another realization. She’d come to understand that she didn’t want to live alone. She loved Luke Kelly, as fully and completely as any woman could love a man. It was time to make that call.