Dear Editor

by Emily Sharpe

But the future? That was still looking good—although taking its time, from Jessica's perspective. Worth called her every evening now. She would have preferred talking to him in person, but she had to admit, isolating the sense of sound had its merits. She heard every nuance and syllable as he talked about his life now, the magazine, his plans and dreams, stories about his mother. Nothing about his past, but that would come, she was sure.

  If she'd been in the same room with him, she probably would have been too distracted. Even now, she hadn't admitted to him that when it was time for his call—nine-thirty sharp—she always made sure that she was bathed and had a glass of wine handy, with a fragrant candle burning by the bed, where she snuggled under a comforter in the dim light.

  "What are you wearing, love?" he'd asked the night before. Sitting at her laptop at the office, where she was supposed to be concentrating on an article, she was suddenly transported back to her bedroom as she remembered. "If you don't mind me asking, that is," he'd added, always the gentleman.

  In her mind's eye, Jessica took a sip of wine and giggled softly before answering. "You first."

  "Whatever the lady wants. I am immaculate in corduroy trousers, button down overpriced linen and cotton shirt, with a satin smoking jacket." For a second, she thought he was serious. Really? Who wears corduroy these days? But then he cleared his throat. "My dear, I have just gotten out of the shower—a very hot shower, just the way I like them. I'm under the covers in my altogether, which is the way I prefer to sleep. There is also a well-worn copy of Mark Twain's Roughing It at the ready for when our conversation is over. I'm rereading it for the umpteenth time."

  Jessica had set the glass of wine down on the bedside table and slid her free hand under the covers. What would it feel like to have his hands there right now? A little breathless, she'd murmured, "I think we must be dressed the same, then."

  "Well, you asked."

  "Actually, you asked."

  At the memory of Worth's low chuckle, Jessica looked quickly around the office to see if she might have moaned out loud where someone might have heard. She really needed to get this article done, but…

  "Touché," Worth had said. "Or 'touchy' as my friend used to say. And touchy is something I would like to explore again with you."

  "Which friend?" Jessica loved milking every reference to his past, pulling away some of those layers.

  Instead of answering, Worth had made a little sound of impatience. "He's of no consequence, I assure you. I'd rather discuss touching you, frankly."

  Jessica's patience was never her strong suit, although she had to admit that she had waited on Eric for a very long time, only to be disappointed. She seriously doubted that would be the case with Worth. So why the waiting game? Why just phone conversations every night? Why just talk about touching when she'd made it clear she wanted more? And what was so 'touchy' about talking about an old friend. Unless—Jessica swiveled her chair back and forth, grateful for headphones. Clair de Lune played softly, returning her thoughts to the previous evening.

  "Is everything all right, Jessica?" Although she couldn't see him, she knew he'd be frowning. He had such a keen sense of hurt and guilt. He seemed so cautious. Too cautious, after the bathroom incident on Halloween. It was almost like a bait and switch.

  "Bait and switch?" Worth had asked.

  Only then, did Jessica realize she had spoken her thoughts out loud. She was embarrassed, but at some level almost grateful. "Yes, bait and switch. You came on like gangbusters in that bathroom, and then turned into—"

  "Turned into whom?"

  Jessica had sighed, as she sighed now in her desk chair. "I don't know," she remembered saying, "someone less hungry, less passionate. I-I'd always hoped to find someone who wanted me that badly, and then when I thought I had, you remembered your manners."

  At the other end of the line, Worth had laughed. "I can buy that. It was a bit of an abrupt about-face. I went from out-and-out scoundrel, I'm afraid, to choir boy." His voice had dropped a decibel. "But may I remind you that alcohol was a factor. And, we decided to move forward and not dwell on that party." He'd made a little humming noise. "I especially liked being face-to-face with you, though. And I still do."

  Jessica squirmed a little in her chair, just thinking of his voice. As she had squirmed on the bed in spite of herself. Did the air go off? she'd thought. It was so warm. She had kicked the comforter off and let the cool air of the paddle fan overhead stir the air over her length. She had bitten her lip. Then she'd shaken her head and sat up. "Worth. I've had boyfriends, but I have only been with one man. I thought I'd marry—marry—"

  "Eric?"

  "Yes. I thought I'd marry Eric. I even thought I was in love with him until, well, until that night, at the party. But even though he said he loved me, it felt like there was something missing. I wanted more out of love. I wanted more out of a relationship. I want the kind of passion I felt on Halloween, so even though we're leaving that in the past, I want you to understand how life changing that night was for me. I felt…I just…I want that feeling, Worth. All the time."

  Worth had become serious too. "But you want more than passion, don't you? More than sex, certainly?"

  At the moment, Jessica thought, gazing around the office, I would settle for sex. Weeks of foreplay will do that to a girl. But she had managed to explain things more tactfully last night. She replayed her little speech in her mind: "I want it all, Worth. I want to laugh at silly jokes and have the car door held open for me. I want to discuss religion and politics and art and music. I want to be pursued by the object of my pursuit. I want to be cherished by the man I cherish. I want to be lusted after and appreciated and respected."

  "I see," Worth had responded. "You want a man who will be the perfect gentleman in public and then go all Darth Vader on you in private?"

  Jessica smiled again, remembering. Of course, that's what she wanted.

  "You want to make sweet, sweet, soulmate love on Sunday afternoons after church—"

  Jessica blushed in her chair as she remembered interrupting him. "And I want to make mad monkey love in the back seat of the car in an airport parking garage."

  For a few seconds, there had been silence on the line. Jessica had slowly lain back on the pillow, concerned that he was withdrawing again, turtle-like, into that maddeningly thick shell of propriety. Was she being impatient? Needy? Or was she just in love for the first time in her life?

  "Jessica?" he had finally said. "About that parking garage."

  Even now, Jessica took a deep breath as the piano accompaniment reached a crescendo in her ears. How had he put it, exactly?

  "I fly pretty often. Maybe one of these days, you'd give me a ride to the airport?"

  Chapter 9

  Sounding Board

  "Worth sounds absolutely wonderful, Jessica," Carol said, leafing through one of her many photo albums. Jessica sat beside her mother on the couch, having spent a quiet Thanksgiving together.

  Worth had been in Canada visiting his mother who had, unfortunately, fallen and broken her ankle. It would be even longer before she officially showed up at the magazine or was formally introduced to her son's lady friend. They'd talked by phone a few times, and Jessica could tell that they'd get along, but sometimes she wondered what was going on with Worth himself. He was due home tonight.

  Jessica sighed. "He is. But we haven't really spent much time together. He's been busy with various family corporations, meetings. He's always flying somewhere or other." And he hasn't asked me to give him a ride, that's for sure. "He hasn't been in the office that much lately. And now it's almost Christmas, and we're still not really a couple. No one knows except you and his mother, as far as I know. There are some things I want to ask him about, but I haven't had a chance." Her tone had turned wistful. I have, though. Maybe I don't want to know the answers. Could he have known that boy? Did he know the librarian? Did he—God forbid—have anything to do with it? Why does he always change the subject?

  Car
ol looked up from the album and gave her daughter a "really?" look. "You feel strongly about this man, I can tell. And you're thinking that if he's not wooing you, he might not feel the same way? No dating means no mating? Something like that?"

  Jessica shook her head. "Mom, everything about this man is infuriating. The first time we met, we—well, we hit it off right away. So well, that he was afraid he'd overstepped."

  Carol waited for more. When Jessica didn't elaborate, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, a story for another time. But since then, he hasn't been as attentive?"

  Jessica got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "He's very attentive, Mom. He calls every night, emails funny stories, describes the places he's been or people he's seen." Coming back into the room, she stopped. "I guess I never realized how important the physical aspect of a relationship is to me. I knew there was something missing with Eric, but I always wondered if it might be my fault."

  Carol shook her head. "You and Eric just weren't suited for one another. He's the way he is, which is fine, and from what you tell me about Donna, they've got a good thing going on. I'm happy about that. But—" her mother paused.

  Is she blushing? Jessica thought as she sat back down on the couch.

  "Honey, your father and I had something special," Carol said. "We were always open with each other, passionate, thrilled to be together. Even when I was carrying you, and after, and until he died, we never lost that feeling of being sixteen, hungry for one another."

  Jessica smiled sadly. "I know, Mom. I knew it every time I saw you together, knew that you were so much in love." She stroked her mother's back. "I guess I should have been thinking that it was possible for me too, instead of thinking that you and Dad were the only people on the planet to have what you had. Sometimes it felt like that, growing up, and after. I looked at my friends' parents. I looked at my friends, my co-workers. I didn't see anything like what the two of you had, anywhere. I think I thought it couldn't exist for anyone else, certainly not for me. I convinced myself that you and Dad were unique."

  Carol closed the photo album. "We were in love, that's all. Really and truly in love. I think that's what everyone in love is supposed to experience. The trick is to never fall out." She smiled. "But there is something I'd like to tell you. Since we're talking about love. And…intimacy."

  Jessica settled back into the couch as Carol opened the album back up and flipped to a particular page. "Do you remember when this was taken?"

  There was a photo of a retirement party for one of the firefighters. Jessica and her parents were standing arm in arm beside the party's honoree. On the other side, stood Chief Henderson and his wife, Angie, a pretty, petite woman who seemed to be leaning on her husband's arm for strength. She had not felt well that night, Jessica remembered. She'd been pale, tired.

  "Mrs. Henderson died not too long after, didn't she?" Her husband had not only had her death to deal with, she remembered, but a dangerous and busy career on top of raising their two kids.

  The two couples had done a lot together. The four of them had been close. After the funeral, Jessica's parents had been careful to include the chief at holidays and outings, but he had eventually started dating again. Still friends and co-workers, Chief Henderson had drifted into a new life that hadn't included Jessica's parents as much. Jessica assumed that he had remarried years ago.

  "Chet is retiring in a few months himself," Carol said, her eyes bright. "It's a year earlier than he'd always planned, but he, um, said he didn't want me to risk losing another man in a fire."

  Jessica's jaw dropped. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? You two? I thought he had re—"

  Carol waved her hand as if to slow down her daughter's thoughts. "He never did. And, yes, we are…dating. It's only been a few weeks, but it feels right. When it's right, it doesn't take a lot of time. I didn't want to keep it from you, honey. Or have you come over unannounced and be surprised."

  Jessica rolled her eyes, but of course, she was happy for her mother. "I see. So, you and the chief are doing a little more than watching old movies and popping popcorn, I gather?"

  Carol made a show of offense before beaming with obvious pleasure. "He is very much a gentleman and we're taking things fairly slow. But we're also old enough to know what we both want. One of these nights will turn into one of these mornings, I'm sure."

  Jessica hugged her mother, surprised by her own tears. "I am so happy for you, Mom. I know it's what Dad would have wanted, too." She suddenly felt a great sob rise within her, all of the emotions she'd been trying to hold at bay bursting out.

  Carol rocked her daughter until the sobs eased and then held her chin up so that she could brush the tears from Jessica's cheeks. She shushed her as she'd done when Jessica was a little girl. "I know that your dad wants me to be happy, honey. I don't expect it to be the same as it was with him, with Chet, but I think it may just be special in a different way. We'll just have to wait and see."

  Mother and daughter made tentative plans for the four of them to spend Christmas together, but neither had much confidence that it would happen. A fire chief's schedule was hard to pin down, and apparently, so was a magazine editor's. At least this one's.

  Driving back to her apartment later, Jessica couldn't stop grinning. Her mother and Chet, after all these years and all the experiences together with their spouses. Would wonders never cease?

  Her car's Bluetooth alerted her to a phone call. "Hey, handsome," she said, recognizing the number.

  Worth chuckled. "Hey, beautiful. I have a favor to ask."

  "Name it!"

  "Can I get a ride to the airport tomorrow?"

  Jessica's heart began to pound. "Sure."

  Chapter 10

  So Much for Spontaneity

  Jessica had tossed and turned all night. As she washed her hands in the employee lounge at work, her reflection chided her for it. She examined her make-up and fluffed her hair a little. Worth had sent her a memo by way of an intern earlier. "Please clear your schedule so that we can leave for the airport by 1:00." Like I could get anything accomplished today. We haven't been in the same room alone in weeks and now we'll be in a car? I still want to ask him about that boy, but if we're going to the airport…parking garage…

  The thought of being in the backseat of her car with Worth, tucked privately away in some dark corner of the airport parking garage, making passionate love—which would require gymnastics notwithstanding, since her car was not exactly an SUV—was so distracting a mental picture, that twice, she'd caught herself staring off into space. During conversations with others, no less.

  "What is up with you today?" Donna asked with a giggle as they both stood in line to make copies. "Halfway into my story, you completely zoned out."

  "What?"

  "Exactly." Donna made a face. "Hey, what's this about getting tapped to be the boss's driver? Are you going to complain to HR? That's so bogus. Eric would never dream of asking an employee to go that far out of her job description. With his money, Mr. Vincent could hire a limo or an Uber at least. Or pay to park his car like other people do, for crying out loud. Sheesh."

  Jessica bit her tongue before making any comment about what Eric might never dream of doing. "I was going that way anyway. It's no problem at all."

  "You are a much better employee than I am," Donna sighed. "I wonder if his trip is business or pleasure." She wiggled her eyebrows up and down for effect. "Mr. Vincent might have a rendezvous in Boston with some hot divorcee." At Jessica's horrified look, Donna punched her friend. "Just kidding! Why, are you hoping to sink your hooks into him yourself?"

  It was Jessica's turn for making a face.

  "Or are you after some other 'fish in the sea'?" Donna said, leaning in for what she hoped was juicy gossip.

  Jessica stepped away, grateful that the copier was finally free. Passing Donna, she made the copies she needed without comment and flashed her friend a big, entirely fake smile as she headed back to her
cubicle. "I decided to go vegan, didn't I tell you?"

  She left Donna shaking her head as she worked, muttering about unreasonable standards. I don't have unreasonable standards, she thought as she sat staring at her screen. Do I? Passion, laughter, respect, being adored by the object of her adoration—was that too much to ask?

  Back at her desk, Jessica forced herself to get some work done. She managed somehow to focus, so much so that hours had passed when the sound of someone clearing his throat nearby startled her. "Earth to Jessica."

  Jessica looked at her watch. Almost one! "Worth! I'm so sorry. It will only take me a second to get ready to leave—"

  Worth's face clouded. "I'm not going to Boston after all. I got snagged into something else. I'll call you later, okay?"

  Jessica kept her face expressionless for the sake of anyone listening or watching. Worth still advised keeping their relationship out of the office. Thus far, they had yet to raise the first eyebrow. Even Donna suspected nothing, apparently, or she surely would have said something.

  She waited until Worth started to walk away to allow her lips to turn into a pout, just as he turned back around. "May I have a rain check, though?"

  Jessica smiled in response, feeling her cheeks flush, hoping no one was watching.

  She went about the rest of her day as best she could. At least he asked for a rain check, so that's good, right? But how long was she going to have to wait this time? She felt like she was on a roller coaster with this relationship, if that was even what it was. Or maybe it was a Merry-Go-Round, where she went around and around in circles, getting dizzier and dizzier but never getting off. Either way, the tension was getting to her.

  It turned out that they had a lovely talk later, as promised.

  Christmas didn't work out with him, but she spent a wonderful holiday with her mother and Chet Henderson. His kids were grown too, of course, and hadn't been able to travel home for the holidays from their respective states.