by Misha Crews
Jenna stiffened. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Adam is important to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”
Hurt. There was that word again. “Well, I don’t want him to get hurt, either.”
“Are you in love with him?”
Some part of Jenna thought she should be reprimanding this young woman for her impertinence. But Midge didn’t actually seem impertinent, just concerned. “Are you?” Jenna countered.
Midge considered the question. “I care about him. I’ve never let it get beyond that.”
Jenna looked away, feeling her stomach clench. “Lucky you.”
“I’ve never let it get beyond that,” Midge repeated, “because I knew, from the first day I met Adam, that some part of him belonged to someone else. And tonight I found out that the someone is you.”
“What makes you say that?”
Midge’s eyebrows rose. “I have eyes, my dear.”
Jenna wasn’t sure how to answer that. She considered several responses, some of them less polite than others. What she finally ended up with was, “I’m engaged to someone else.”
“Ah.”
“He’s a very nice man.” Jenna heard the defensive note in her voice but she couldn’t disguise it.
“I’m sure he is.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?”
“I have no idea, actually. And let’s be honest, it’s really none of my business, except as how it relates to Adam. So maybe we should just leave it at this: When you love someone, you try to do what’s best for them. Even if that means walking away from them.”
Walk away. Hadn’t she tried to do just that? And yet here she was, back again. Jenna’s eyes abruptly filled with tears, and she put a trembling hand to her forehead. She reached for the railing, but she missed and staggered a step. “Oh, God, I think I drank too much.”
“Don’t worry, there’s a lot of that going around tonight.” Midge took Jenna’s arm and helped her into a chair. “You’ll be all right. Let me get you a glass of water.”
“No, don’t go.” Jenna grabbed her hand. “Just sit with me for a minute, will you?”
“Sure.” Midge sat down and held Jenna’s hand loosely in her own.
Silence grew between the two women while Jenna regained her composure. She felt embarrassed by her outburst and for asking Midge to remain with her. Noise from the party buffered the air like static. They could hear the sound of good-byes being called from the front of the house.
Jenna heard her own voice speaking, and what she said surprised her. “When I was young I was very much on my own. Isolated, I guess you could say. Then I met Adam, and Bud, who later became my husband, and all I wanted was to be part of a family. I threw myself into it, into wanting that. Adam went off to fight in the war, and while he was gone I married Bud, and I became really and truly part of his family. But now Bud’s dead, and I have my son to care for. He loves his grandparents, and they love him. We’re still a family. And yet now I find myself wanting to create something new — something bigger, I guess.”
“With Adam?” Midge asked. “Or with your fiancé?”
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?”
Midge squeezed Jenna’s hand, a sympathetic gesture that had tears dancing behind Jenna’s eyes once again.
“Do you really know Jack Kerouac?” Of all the things she could have said at that moment, Jenna wasn’t sure why she’d asked that particular question.
Midge laughed. “Not well, but I did meet him once or twice.”
“What’s he like?”
“Brilliant. Charming. Magnetic.” Midge paused, then a mischievous grin twisted its way across her face. “And great in the sack.”
A bark of laughter escaped Jenna’s lips. “Well, well. I definitely didn’t expect you to say that.”
“Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.”
“Indeed it is.”
They looked at each other, eyes glowing in the darkness. “Party’s almost over,” Midge said. “Are you going to go home, or will you stay awhile?”
Jenna spoke without hesitation. “I think I’ll stay.”
Midge nodded. “I had a feeling that would be your answer.” She didn’t sound happy.
* * *
The noise level dropped gradually, like water receding at low tide. Even the music became quieter, more subtle, as if it too were preparing the house for slumber.
Adam lay on a deck chair, looking up at the stars. There was a cigarette in his hand, but he couldn’t remember having taken a puff. Someone had lit it and handed it to him as they were leaving the party. And then laughter had erupted, as if it were the best joke they’d heard all night. He looked at the thing, then stubbed it out on the deck. He wasn’t in the mood for a smoke right now. What he wanted was another drink.
He sat up. Dizziness washed over him in a tidal wave, and he put a hand to his head. Okay, maybe he should rethink that drink idea.
Adam heard footsteps behind him and turned around carefully. It was Midge. She sat down on the edge of his chair. “Everyone’s gone,” she said softly. “Or almost everyone. Jenna’s in the kitchen, washing dishes. I told her not to bother, that I arranged to have a woman come in tomorrow and clean, but she said she wants to make herself useful.”
“That’s nice.”
“Ray’s asleep in the back of my car. I’m going to drop him off at his place and then head home.” She paused. “Unless you want me to stay, for some reason.”
He reached out and took her hand. She continued in a rush. “I could always dump Ray in a cab, help Jenna clean up. You might need me for something.”
Adam’s voice was quiet. “Midge, you know how much I value you. And I appreciate your friendship more than you’ll ever know. But — ”
“Don’t say it,” Midge said, with a catch in her voice. “I understand. I understand everything.”
Adam smiled wearily. “You’re going to make some man a wonderful wife one of these days.”
Midge grinned back, suddenly chipper again. “You’re damn right I will,” she laughed. “But for now I guess I’d better drive Ray home.”
He squinted up at her. “Are you sober?”
“As a judge. And that’s more than I can say for you.” She stood up. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Not too early,” Adam insisted.
“Not too early,” she echoed.
Then she was gone, and Adam was alone, waiting for Jenna.
He had known that Jenna would still be here after everyone else had left. It was in the way she had looked at him tonight, in every gesture she had made. She wanted to talk to him. Alone. He smiled and closed his eyes, at home with the faint wooziness still buzzing inside his head. He didn’t want to think about what was going to happen, he just wanted to lie there in his whisky daze and enjoy the anticipation.
Jenna had something to say to him. Maybe she would tell him that she was breaking up with Frank. Maybe she would suggest they move to France, or Spain, or some other place that was beautiful and far away. Adam would sell this house in half a heartbeat if it meant he could whisk Jenna and Christopher away and start a new life.
“Adam.” Jenna’s dulcet voice came from behind him. “I’ve brought you some coffee.”
He pushed himself back up into a sitting position. Coffee would be good. Necessary, in fact, if he were to have a semi-intelligible conversation with this woman. But sober or not, he wondered how could he keep from gathering her in his arms and making love to her. Especially when he was so tired of ignoring the impulse to do just that.
Jenna sank down next to him in the spot that Midge had just vacated, and handed him a heavy mug of black coffee. He sipped, grateful for the feeling of the strong, hot liquid burning its way down his throat. The world came more sharply into focus, and his thoughts stilled. Where before they had been slippery, now they were firm and easy to grasp.
“Thanks,” he said. “I needed that, pro
bably more than I realized.”
Jenna cleared her throat and came right to the point. “Adam, I want to talk to you about something.”
“I know.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled away, lacing her fingers together. “What’s wrong?”
Her laugh was both brief and nervous. “You won’t like what I have to say.”
Adam took another sip of coffee and tried not to guess at what that might mean. “I doubt you could say anything that I wouldn’t like.” But he wasn’t as sure as he sounded.
Jenna squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve been to see Maya.”
He pushed himself into a sitting position. His head was clear now, that was for damn sure. All the effects of alcohol had been banished with one blow. “What? You told me you would wait for me before you did anything!” But he wasn’t surprised. Jenna had wanted to meet that little nephew of hers more than anything, and she wasn’t exactly known for her patience. When she wanted something, she usually set about getting it in the most direct way possible.
“I realize that,” she said. She looked like she’d been preparing for this conversation. “But I thought that things might go more smoothly if I went on my own.”
“And did they?”
Jenna told him the whole story — going to the address he’d given her, meeting Alexander, and finally, meeting Maya and Joseph. When she got to the point where she described Joseph, her face went soft and dreamy. “You should have seen him, Adam,” she whispered. “He looked just like Denny. So handsome, and such nice manners. Very talented on the piano, too. Kitty would be very proud.” Kitty had always wanted her boys to learn piano, but they had stubbornly refused. Somehow, Adam didn’t think that Kitty’s first reaction to this situation would be that of the prideful grandma.
Adam wanted to be angry with Jenna, but the emotion wouldn’t stick. Her joy at having found her family, her distress when she told him how the meeting with Maya had ended, her earnest longing for a reconciliation and some sort of future with all of them being one big happy family — all of it was too much. How could he be mad at her after all of that? And what good would it do if he were?
Still, he had to say something, didn’t he? If only to save her future heartbreak. “Jenna, you have to stop this dreaming. Bill and Kitty, wonderful though they may be, are not likely to accept a colored grandson any time soon.”
“I think you’re wrong, Adam. I think you’re wrong about everything. You’re not a mother; you don’t know how it feels to have a son. If it were Christopher’s child — ”
“But it’s not Christopher’s child; it’s Denny’s. And you know that this is a pipe dream. You need to concentrate on keeping the family you have, not go off chasing a new one.”
Jenna turned her head. He could see her trembling. Adam spoke again, softly. “I know how badly you want to make it up to Bill and Kitty for deceiving them about Christopher. I know you think that if they could accept Joseph, it would somehow make up for that deception. But the two things don’t necessarily balance each other out. Surely you must see that?”
Jenna nodded jerkily. “I do see it. But I don’t want things to be that way.”
He turned her chin to face him, gently. “And you’re just going to bend the universe to your will, is that it?”
“I would if I could.”
He laughed softly. “Don’t I know it.” And then, because he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head and kissed her. For a moment, she gave herself fully to the kiss, lips soft and warm against his. But then she pulled away.
“No,” was all she said. One hand was on his chest, holding him back.
“Jenna.”
“I said no. I won’t do it. I won’t hurt you that way.”
“Sweetheart, you’re not going to hurt me.”
The look she gave him chilled him to the bone. “I will, Adam. Not intentionally, of course, but as surely as we’re sitting here, I will cause you pain. It’s inevitable.”
He gripped her arms and pulled her close, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Nothing’s inevitable. Do you hear me? Nothing.” And he lowered his head to claim her mouth again.
At first Jenna resisted, pressing her hands to his chest. But the coolness of her lips quickly melted, until her mouth was molten under his, and her arms slid around his neck, pulling him to her.
After that, things moved very quickly. Adam wanted to savor the moment, to take his time, but Jenna wasn’t having any of that. His shirt was the first thing to go, then his trousers. And finally her dress and underclothes seemed to melt under his fingers, until at last she was naked, her skin silvery and flawless in the moonlight as she rose over him, settling herself onto him in one long, fluid motion.
They moved together in a rhythm old as time. He looked up, cupped her cheek with his hand. “You love me,” he whispered.
“No,” she whispered back, face contorting with passion.
“You do. You love me. Admit it.”
“I don’t.”
His hands slid down her back, cupping her buttocks as she moved gracefully along his length. She cried out, gripping his shoulders, and he pulled her down, down, down to him, so he could kiss her mouth. “I love you,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes.
“Say it,” he begged. “Tell me the truth. Say what you feel.”
He watched her face, saw her crest the wave and saw it break. Her eyes flew open, pupils wide, eyes glowing like jewels. “I love you,” she gasped. “I do. I love you, Adam.”
And his breath was a cry of love and triumph.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
JENNA WOKE SLOWLY. CONSCIOUSNESS CAME TO her little by little, like dawn breaking over the mountains. Her eyes fluttered open, absorbing flashes of golden light and rich color. At length the colors coalesced, became objects, and she knew where she was.
She lifted her head and looked around. The room was bright with morning sun. The floor-to-ceiling windows were open to the sunlight, their curtains drawn back and gathered in the corners of the room, but the foliage around the house assured privacy. Furniture was minimal — the bed in which she lay, an easy chair, a chest of drawers. The highly polished maple floor glinted cleanly under the blue woven rugs that matched the quilt.
Adam’s bedroom. She was alone in his bed, covered by a quilt but clothed only in memories of last night. The sound of running water came from behind a closed door, telling her that Adam was in the shower and that she had precious little time before she had to decide what she would say to him.
Oh, this was a mistake. Jenna had known it last night, and she knew it now. And when he came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist and a smile on his face, her heart sank. This was going to be so much harder than she’d hoped. Midge was right. She was going to hurt him, no way around it.
“Well, good morning, Sunshine,” he said brightly.
“Morning.” Jenna pushed herself into a sitting position and glanced around for her clothes. Her gaze lighted on a bathrobe laying across the chair on the other side of the bedroom. He leaned over to kiss her, and she pressed her lips against his self-consciously.
He plopped down next to her on the bed, propping his head up on his fist. If he noticed how she moved away from him, he gave no sign. “Did you sleep good?”
“Yes,” she said honestly. Hoping to distract him, she added, “Your house looks as beautiful in the daylight as it did last night.”
“Thanks.” Adam grinned. “I was going to say the same about you.”
Jenna laughed. “Oh, I doubt that the word ‘beautiful’ describes me at this particular moment.”
Adam’s eyes glinted. “You might be surprised.”
This was unbearable. Jenna knew she needed to say what she had to say and then leave. But she couldn’t talk to him like this — naked, vulnerable in his bed. Her smile faltered but held. “Hand me that bathrobe and give me a minute to verify that, will you?”
“Sure.”
She escaped to the bathroom, with his robe wrapped around her. After availing herself of the facilities, she finally felt ready to look in the mirror. And as soon as she did, she wished she hadn’t. It wasn’t exactly her finest hour in any sense of the term. Traces of the previous night’s makeup lingered on her face like guilt, smudging her skin, and her hair was sticking up in all directions like the feathers of a duck in distress.
She washed her face and used Adam’s toothbrush, then ran wet fingers through her hair, managing to restore some hint of neatness to her appearance. And still she could not bring herself to face Adam.
Last night had been intense, joyous, making all other aspects of her life pale in comparison. That was how she always felt with him: as if nothing else in life held as much color, as much vitality as he did. The only exception was her son—who, of course, was also Adam’s son. Did that make things better or worse? Again, the impossible confusion of the situation overwhelmed her, and she leaned against the sink, head swimming.
She had to put a stop to all of this. It was bad for everyone, including Adam. She kept pushing him away, then allowing him to pull her back. If she was ever going to find peace, she needed to end things with him, once and for all. And there was only one way to do it: quickly.
She turned the doorknob and exited the bathroom, heart steeled to get this over with. But the moment she caught sight of Adam, lying on his back with his arms behind his head, smiling as he waited for her, she felt her resolve slip.
He started talking as soon as she walked in. “I’ve been lying here thinking brilliant thoughts. Would you like to hear them?”
No, she thought.
“All right,” she said. She crossed her arms and leaned against the bureau, trying to keep as much space between them as possible.
Adam rolled over on his side, eyes sparkling. His towel loosened a notch and she tried not to notice. “Well, I’ve been thinking that we’re in love.”
Jenna started to speak, and he continued quickly, not giving her a chance to interrupt him. “I know that you’re in love with me, because whether you know it or not, you have a special smile that you only give to me. And if that’s not enough proof, you actually told me yourself last night.”