The Triad

by Sarah Ettritch

*****

  Her stomach churning, Jayne entered the Thompson house, hung her cloak, and glanced into the living room. Mo looked up at her from the sofa. Jayne swallowed at the sight of Mo’s red eyes and the slump of her shoulders. So, Lesley had told her.

  “Did you enjoy your walk?” Mo asked flatly. Then she blew out a sigh. “I’m not angry with you, okay.”

  Jayne lowered herself onto the sofa next to Mo. “Where’s Lesley?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to kick herself. “I’m asking because I hope you’re still speaking to her.”

  To her surprise, Mo smiled. “If I wasn’t, we’d be in real trouble, considering we’re Joining in a few days.” The amusement in her eyes quickly died. “When we saw you coming to the front door, she said she’d make tziva. I guess she wanted to give us a few minutes alone.”

  “In case you want to yell at me?” Jayne hesitated, then took one of Mo’s hands. “You’re both my Chosens.”

  “I know.”

  A lump rose in Jayne’s throat when Mo’s fingers tightened around hers.

  “I’ll deal with it. I’m not saying I’m happy about it, but given this,” she lifted Jayne’s hand and squeezed it, “at least I understand that she still loves me. I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt, but if I didn’t know that my feelings for you haven’t changed my feelings for Les, that she’s still as special to me, I…well, I don’t know how I would have reacted. I doubt we’d be sitting here like this.”

  Jayne had hoped that Mo’s experience with loving two women would temper her reaction to Lesley’s revelation. Their relationship was the foundation of the triad. It had to remain strong.

  “I also know that your feelings for Les don’t affect your feelings for me,” Mo said, but her voice lacked conviction.

  “Of course they don’t,” Jayne said, surprised that Mo might believe otherwise. Then again, their relationship was young; it hadn’t grown over years, survived a separation, and persevered through the ups and downs of life. “We have a lot of years ahead of us.” To her horror, her voice quavered.

  Mo’s forehead puckered; she let go of Jayne’s hand and pulled her into a hug. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll be moody for a while, but I know you and Les love me. I do.”

  Jayne was supposed to be comforting Mo, not the other way around! She held Mo close and, even though she was fighting tears, murmured, “You didn’t upset me. And I do love you.” In case a tear escaped, she didn’t lower her head to press her cheek against Mo’s.

  “I love you, too,” Mo said.

  Jayne squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to fall apart. We have a lot of years ahead of us. Not just her and Mo—the triad. A family. Love. A life she’d never dared hope for, and one she’d never take for granted. No, Mo hadn’t upset her. Jayne was fighting the purest of tears, tears born of love, and joy, and awe. She loved. She felt loved. It no longer mattered how Rymellans treated her. She’d finished paying for her parents’ crimes. Her punishment was over.

  *****

  Mo bounded up the stairs to the Middletons’ second floor, entered her bedroom—and her jaw dropped. “What are you doing?” she snapped at Nathan.

  He quickly sat up and swung his legs off the bed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m in my own flaming bedroom!”

  “It’s not yours for much longer.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “Can you at least wait until I officially don’t live here anymore before you start planning how you’ll redecorate? Why don’t you stick with your own room?”

  He shrugged. “This one’s a little larger than mine.”

  “It won’t be long before your Chosen Papers come.” Mo moved to the closet and slid its door open.

  “I’m only twenty-one!” He paused. “I thought you’d taken all the clothes you needed over to the Thompsons’.”

  She had, but her need to get away from everyone had outweighed her fear of leaving Les and Jayne alone together—not that they were by themselves. She’d left them with Adelaide, who’d wanted to review the timetable for their Joining Day one last time. “All I have to worry about is flying everyone to the Chosen House for 13:20,” Mo had said, “everyone” meaning Papa, Jayne, Andrew, Nathan, Carol, and Ronald. Then she’d feigned a shocked look and claimed to have forgotten to bring over the pants and shirt she wanted to wear that afternoon. She might have fooled Adelaide, but doubted her excuse had flown with Les and Jayne. Mo wasn’t sure whether she was miffed or grateful that neither one had insisted she stay, or offered to go with her to fetch her clothes. “I decided I want to wear something different today, okay?”

  “All the socializing getting to you?”

  Mo bit back a retort. Arguing with Nathan wouldn’t make her feel any better. “A little, so I came over here hoping to get fifteen minutes to myself.” Hint, hint.

  “I’ll get out of your way, then.”

  Good, Nathan wasn’t dense. Mo pulled a shirt off a hanger, then turned around in time to see Nathan moving to the doorway, where he paused. “While you’re here, maybe you can talk to Andrew.”

  “Why? He’s seemed okay at all the gatherings.”

  Nathan snorted.

  “Isn’t he at the workshop?” Stupid question. “Oh, no, he wouldn’t be.” Her family would be at the gathering that afternoon, as usual. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Nathan clasped his hands over his heart and answered in a high-pitched voice, “He’s lovesick.”

  Flaming Argamon! “I’ve talked to him. I’ve talked to Ann. I’m out of it.” She had two flaming relationships of her own to worry about.

  “You introduced them.”

  “So it’s my fault? No way. Look, they’re adults. Let them sort it out.”

  Nathan frowned. “I tried to set him up with someone. He wouldn’t even listen! She was his own age, too. Not some old woman.”

  Old woman? Okay, patience depleted! “That fifteen minutes I wanted is almost down to ten. Get out!” When he grinned at her, she wanted to throw the shirt at him. Maybe her desire showed in her eyes, because he ducked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Brothers! A sudden wave of melancholy dampened her exasperation. She was moving out—had pretty much moved out. She’d miss Andrew and Nathan’s affectionate teasing. Then she chuckled at herself. She wasn’t moving to another sector. She’d see her siblings almost as often as she did now, especially since the Middletons and Thompsons were practically one big family.

  Mo sat on the bed and dropped the shirt next to her. Now that she was alone, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. Cry? No. Break things? Nope. Stoke resentment and anger toward Les and Jayne. She couldn’t. Every time indignation stirred or jealousy clenched her hands and tightened her jaw, her relationship with Jayne deftly countered the attack, as if pouring a bucket of water over an already sputtering fire. She couldn’t rail at Les, couldn’t mentally shout, How could you turn your back on our relationship? and How could you do this to me? How could you hurt me like this? when she knew from experience that Les wasn’t rejecting their relationship, hadn’t set out to hurt her, and that a relationship between Les and Jayne didn’t mean that Les didn’t love her, or that their relationship was somehow less important and special. And you went first. Yeah, okay, there was that one little detail. Hadn’t she asked herself if she could handle this when the day came? She’d been thinking more about Les and Jayne sleeping together, but still. How had she responded? She’d promised to remind herself that it wouldn’t be some airhead. It would be Jayne, who respected her, Les, and, most importantly, their relationship.

  All this rational thinking didn’t mean that Mo wasn’t hurt and didn’t feel betrayed. Oh, no! She flaming hurt and knew she was in for a rough time. When Les felt comfortable becoming involved with Jayne, Mo would chew her thumbnails off, slam a lot of doors, and “moody” would be the understatement of the year. But she’d still love Les. She’d still love Jayne. She’d throw her temper tantrums so that resentment wouldn’t f
ester. Her Chosens weren’t out to get her, or hurt her, or make her feel as if she didn’t matter. Argamon, Andrew was pining after Ann—inexplicably—and probably feeling unloved and unappreciated. Mo had two Chosens who loved her, and she’d cling to that unbelievable, yet true, reality when the hurt threatened to overwhelm reason. Her relationship with Jayne would keep her in line, too. If Les had fallen for Jayne first…if Mo didn’t know that a relationship between Les and Jayne wouldn’t mean the end of her relationship with Les…she didn’t want to think about what would have happened. She did not want to think about it.

  So why had she run here, under the ruse of fetching clothes she didn’t need? Maybe she’d wanted to live up to her reputation as the jealous and hot-headed Chosen of Les Thompson, to show Les and Jayne that she was upset in the only way she could when they were constantly around people. Or maybe she’d wanted to sit in her bedroom and say good-bye to her old life and fantasies. How many times had she lain on this bed, dreaming about being Les’s Chosen and the wonderful life they’d share together? Well, hey, she’d got it half right. They were Chosens, and you know what? They could still strive for that wonderful life—all three of them. Mo had a few doors to slam first, but each one would bring them closer to that idyllic life—or so she’d tell herself!

  She glanced at her comm unit. Argamon, she’d left the Thompsons’ twenty minutes ago. The conversation with Adelaide must be over by now. She had to get back! She snatched up the shirt and sprang off the bed, grabbed the first pair of pants she saw from the closet, and raced downstairs.

  *****

  Not wanting to disturb Mama, who was reviewing the Joining Day agenda on her comm unit one last time, Lesley carefully shifted position on the living room sofa. In one of the chairs facing the sofa, Jayne crossed her legs.

  Mama finally looked up. “All right, we’re set.” She frowned. “Beep Mo and remind her that we have to leave here at 12:30.”

  “She’ll be back in time,” Lesley said, hoping her words were true. If she had to go to the Middletons’ and drag Mo back here, Mama would demand to know what was going on. Mama’s mood was already becoming increasingly high-strung as the Joining Day approached. The prospect of Mo causing some type of scene during the remaining celebrations would keep her up at night.

  “She’d better be.” Mama rose from the sofa and stalked from the living room.

  Lesley and Jayne’s eyes met. “Maybe we should have gone with her,” Jayne said.

  “Mama wouldn’t have appreciated all of us leaving. You saw her face when Mo walked out.” Mo might have smelled the smoke rising from the two holes Mama’s eyes had burned into her back as she left.

  Jayne was silent for a moment. “You had to tell her before the Joining Ceremony.”

  “I don’t regret telling her. I expect her to be up and down for a while, but she’ll be okay. It would have been better if I could have told her when we weren’t expected to constantly have smiles on our faces, but it couldn’t be helped.” If Lesley had kept her feelings for Jayne from Mo until after their Joining Ceremony, she would have cringed every time she looked back on their Joining Day. Everything—the ceremony, the supper, the grinning faces in the images—would have been lies, and certainly not how Lesley wanted them to begin their lives as officially Joined Chosens. Mo would have been justifiably angry that Lesley hadn’t told her earlier, unless Lesley had lied about when she’d recognized her feelings for Jayne, something she’d never do.

  They lapsed into an awkward silence. Lesley scrambled for something to say. They hadn’t had much opportunity to be alone together since they’d confessed their feelings for each other. As Lesley’s acceptance of Mo and Jayne’s relationship continued to grow and she regained her equilibrium over her emotions, her friendship with Jayne would naturally evolve into more, in its own time. She didn’t want to rush. She refused to pressure herself, and knew Jayne wouldn’t pressure her, either. This awkwardness would pass, especially if she stopped thinking about that conversation outside her aviacraft every time they were alone, and focused on simply talking to her Chosen—starting now. “How are you holding up? I’m starting to feel fatigued with all the socializing, so I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

  Jayne’s mouth turned up at the corners. “I’m okay. At this point, I’m more worried about seeing my relatives.”

  “Especially your brother?”

  Jayne nodded.

  Lesley wondered if Jayne would ever explain to her and Mo what had caused the rift with Robert. Maybe they’d find out on their Joining Day, hopefully in a way that didn’t involve shouting.

  “I’m not looking forward to speaking to the others, either, except Carol and Ronald.” She sighed. “Having them all there will feel so hypocritical, but at least only Robert will be in the Joining Chamber.”

  “And he won’t be at the main table.”

  Jayne smiled. “Thank you for persuading your mama—”

  The front door thumped shut. Through the archway, Lesley saw Mo shrug a knapsack off her back and hang her cloak. Mo lifted the knapsack from the floor and strode into the living room. “All done?”

  “If you’d waited until we’d finished with Mama, we would have gone with you,” Lesley said, curious to see what Mo would say in response. The fact that whatever clothes Mo had fetched—if any—were now a wrinkled mess in her knapsack confirmed Lesley’s suspicion that Mo hadn’t forgotten her clothes for that afternoon.

  “We might not have had enough time,” Mo said. “I didn’t really need to be here, so…”

  “So you remember what time we all have to leave the supper to have our images taken? And how long we’re expected to greet those arriving at the hall? And what time we’re expected to have our first dance?” A tradition that had caused Mama much consternation. How would a triad have a first dance together? After consulting with the Joining Day planner, whom Mama treated more like an advisor, she’d decided to choose a longish song and have each couple in the triad dance a third of it.

  Mo’s brow furrowed. “You two know, right? I won’t be there by myself.”

  Lesley must love her. She’d want to throttle anyone else. “Are the clothes you have no intention of wearing in that knapsack?” she asked lightly.

  Mo’s face tightened. “You know, I think I’ve just hit some type of record, because for the second time in an hour, I feel like throwing something at somebody. I just wanted five minutes to myself, okay?”

  “You didn’t want us to go with you,” Jayne said, perhaps still wondering whether they should have accompanied her.

  “No, I flaming didn’t! What’s next? Do you both want to squeeze into the bathroom with me next time I go?” Mo chuckled at the absurdity of her own remark, then slung the knapsack over her shoulder with a groan. “Look, I know you’re both concerned, but I’m okay. Yes, I might be a little snappy now and then, but I’ll deal with it. I’m still looking forward to Joining with both of you. Try to remember that when I’m ripping your heads off.” She slowly exhaled and shifted her attention to Lesley. “Anyway, I better go upstairs and pretend to hang these clothes before I run into your mama. Why don’t you both come with me?” When neither Lesley nor Jayne rose, Mo said, “I’m being serious. I’ve had my alone time. Come with me.”

  As Lesley stood, she exchanged an amused look with Jayne. Mo’s mood would be all over the place in the coming days and weeks, but she’d put on a brave face in public, and Lesley would be there for her in private. Knowing that Mo would need plenty of reassurance about their relationship was another reason Lesley didn’t want to move beyond friendship with Jayne right now. They’d both focus on supporting Mo. Rather than resenting Jayne’s involvement, Lesley was grateful that she wouldn’t have to look out for Mo on her own. Mo would be a priority, but with her commander training and her own emotional turmoil to deal with, having Jayne there to pick up her slack with Mo would be a relief. She’d never wanted to share Mo, but since she had no choice in the matter, she was glad
it was Jayne—someone she trusted, and someone who loved and appreciated Mo, foibles and all.

  *****

  Jayne nodded gratefully to Ronald when he handed her a glass of water. She took a sip. The cold water eased her dry throat. “Thanks.”

  He nodded, moved a stack of workbooks from the sofa to an end table, and sat down. “I hope I remember the names of those I’ve met.” He shook his head. “I’m terrible with names.”

  “What’s that?” Carol bustled into the room and placed a tray with two tzivas and a plate of biscuits on the coffee table. She picked up one of the mugs and sat next to Ronald.

  “I was just saying that I hope I remember everyone’s name.”

  “Don’t worry about it. They won’t remember ours,” Carol said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She frowned at Jayne. “You all right?”

  Was her mounting nervousness that apparent? With most of the socializing behind her, she’d hoped to feel relieved, maybe even excited, on the eve of her Joining Day. Sure, she’d expected apprehension and nerves, but not moments of sheer terror that tightened her chest and made her feel like hyperventilating.

  “Jayne?” Carol said.

  Jayne drank more water and ignored Carol’s question. “I don’t know why we have to spend the night apart.”

  “It’s tradition. Though I guess you’ll be seeing one of your Chosens before you reach the steps.”

  Yes, poor Mo had to fly all the way out here to pick them up, when they could have just stayed at the Thompsons’. At least Jayne wouldn’t have to walk to the steps with Robert alone. The Adamses and Middletons would walk together. Mo would be with her. There was no reason to be nervous. Her stomach knotted.

  “I’m glad we finally got to meet Lesley’s brother,” Carol said. “She looks like him, much more than Karen.”

  Ronald reached for a biscuit. “I can’t believe how much the Middletons resemble each other.”