by Susan Fox
“They were planning to do it next summer after they graduate. But they don’t want to hold off on trying for kids. Then Matt got an offer of a last-minute deal on a Mexican Riviera cruise, and everything came together.” She grinned. “An impulsive decision, gotta love it! But it’s really out of character for M, who’s been planning her wedding since she was seven.”
“I guess there’s a lot to do to put a wedding together.”
“Ask Tree, she’s the one with the project plan. But yeah, they’ve done invites, picked out dresses, Kat’s guy is doing the photos. They’ve booked the place, and they’re working on finding a caterer.”
“A church wedding?”
“No, I told Tree it had to be VanDusen Gardens.”
When he shook his head, she said, “I’m sure you’ve driven past it, you just weren’t paying attention. It’s on Oak Street. A lovely, naturally landscaped botanical garden. It was one of our Sunday Winnie-the-Pooh ‘expotition’ places with Gran, and a favorite of M’s.”
“I hope your grandmother’s well enough to go.”
“Me, too.” Then she tossed her curls. “She will be. And there’ll be sunshine, even though Tree’s obsessed about renting tents, just in case.”
“Uh, having the reservation at Cape Lookout Park didn’t hurt. Sometimes a contingency plan comes in handy.”
“You sound exactly like my sister.” Her tone said she was rolling her eyes.
“I take that as a compliment.” When they got to her place, would she ask him in? He was curious to meet her family, but it could be pretty awkward. How would she introduce him? He remembered that line she’d tossed off when she was on the phone to her sister: I was born to shock. He could definitely see parents being shocked at his and Jenna’s relationship.
“It’s going to be bizarre,” she mused, “being involved with this wedding stuff when it’s not what I believe in. But I guess it’s right for M&M. They’ve sure always thought so.” She tossed him a sideways glance. “How about you? When you talked about the future, you used the term partner, not wife, and you agreed marriage is archaic.”
“Yeah, I’m not big into the institution. I do believe in commitment, though. I want to find a life mate, to commit to each other and to monogamy, to plan our lives together, to raise a family.” Might Jenna be that person? If she weren’t, what were the chances he’d ever find such a powerful connection with another woman?
“Glad to hear you’re not totally conventional,” she teased.
He saw a sign for an upcoming town. “Hopefully there will be internet here.”
“You don’t know? That little detail isn’t on your immaculately planned schedule?” she teased.
“I can be flexible,” he defended himself.
She chuckled. “I’ve seen evidence of that, Dr. Chambers, but mostly in bed. As for today’s schedule, when are you due back in Vancouver? Are your grandparents expecting you for dinner?”
“No. Believe it or not, I left it loose. The symposium starts tomorrow, so they know I’ll arrive sometime today. Wouldn’t hurt to call and give them an update, though.”
“How long is the symposium?”
“Two days. I have Wednesday to tidy up some odds and ends here, then on Thursday I’m flying to Bali to round up the team for the Indonesia project.” Leaving Vancouver and leaving Jenna. Unless his morning fantasy really came true. In the fresh light of morning, the path ahead had seemed so clear.
“Lucky you. At my house, we’ll be going crazy with final preparations for the wedding. Me and my sisters do much better separate than apart.” She made a pleading puppy dog face. “Guess you couldn’t squeeze me in your suitcase?”
“No.” He took a breath. Examined his mind, his heart. How could they find out if this was love if they lived half the world apart? “But I could get you a ticket of your own.”
She stilled, then tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“The team will be in Indonesia for six months, maybe longer. You could join us. But,” he warned, “everyone has to commit to the project. If you get bored, you can’t bail.” What was he doing, talking about the project, when really he wanted so much more from her?
Maybe it was a test. He was approaching Jenna the way cautious people went into the ocean. A step at a time, then a pause to see how they felt. He didn’t need to lay his feelings out there to be stomped on; he wanted to see signs she was feeling the same way. That she was ready to grow up and commit: to one cause and one man.
If she was, then he wanted to be with her, to explore the … magic between them. Because that’s what it was, he realized. Pure magic, with no scientific explanation.
“But …” She shook her head and, sounding puzzled, said, “I don’t get it. I’m not a scientist. What would I do?”
“You could assist other team members with things like measurements, recording data, liaising with the local people. You’re good with people.”
“I am,” she murmured, excitement threading through her voice. “And the falcon survey was all about recording data.”
They’d reached the town, and he looked for a café that had internet. “It wouldn’t pay much. Living expenses and a little spending money.” His project team was already complete and the budget was lean, but he’d happily sacrifice most of his own meager salary. Some of the jobs he worked on, like the one at the UCSC Long Marine Lab, paid decently; others were slave wages. He didn’t need a lot to live on, and it all worked out fine.
“I so don’t care about the money,” she said. “I’m just …” She shook her head again, gave a nervous laugh. “Wow. That’s an incredible offer, Mark. I can’t, uh, get my head around it. We need to talk more—”
“Yeah,” he broke in, seeing an internet café and a parking spot. “We will when we’re back on the road.”
“Right. Okay.” She unbuckled her belt. “I’m … wow.” She leaned over and planted a big kiss on his cheek, and he didn’t have a clue what she was thinking, aside from being stunned.
As they climbed out of the camper, he reflected that he’d never in his adult life done something so spontaneous and … okay, rash. It was rash. Had he done the right thing? Why hadn’t he thought things through and come up with a plan, the way he always did, rather than just blurting it out?
He’d stepped so far out of his comfort zone, he almost wished he could call back the invitation. Needing a bit of time alone, he said, “You go on in. I should call my grandparents.”
“Okay.” She wiggled her fingers in a “see you” wave and headed into the café.
He dialed his grandparents’ number and, after the second ring, heard his grandmother’s voice, still brisk in her eighties. “Mark, I wondered when we’d hear from you. Where are you?”
“In Oregon, north of Tillamook. Seven or eight hours from Vancouver, depending on the border.”
“Will you be home for dinner?”
“Maybe, but don’t count on it. You and Granddad go ahead. Save me some leftovers. This trip hasn’t gone according to plan so far, and who knows what today will be like.”
“You’ve had problems?”
Should he tell her about Jenna? His feelings were so big, so special, he was bursting to share them, yet he rarely discussed emotions with his grandparents. And these emotions were so confusing, his future with Jenna so uncertain. Undecided, he said, “There was a big accident yesterday that shut down the road for a couple of hours.”
“You weren’t involved?” she asked quickly.
“No, it was just ahead of me.”
“Good. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d flown.”
His grandparents always wanted him to fly because it was more efficient. They supported his choice of marine biology as a career, but didn’t understand his love affair with the ocean. “You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’ve had a nice drive despite that.”
“You’re presenting a paper at an important symposium. Isn’t that what you should be working on, not enjoying the s
cenery?” Oh yes, he’d learned his “all work, no play” philosophy from her and his grandfather.
“The paper’s written. I’m ready to go.” Maybe that was why he liked driving—it was about the only time in his life when he didn’t work. Much as he loved his career, a little downtime wasn’t a crime. He used to feel guilty, but Jenna had made him think differently.
As his grandmother told him about an operation she’d consulted on, he listened with half an ear, wondering how she and Grandpa would react if he took Jenna to meet them. In his opinion, he and Jenna could well form a solid pair bond according to his grandparents’ theory that each partner had to be both sufficiently different and sufficiently complementary. Yet he feared they’d look at her and see Alicia all over again.
Yes, Jenna was like his mother in a superficial way, but she made a contribution to society and was more responsible—even if she didn’t acknowledge responsibility as a virtue. She’d devoted more attention to a girl she met at riding camp than Alicia had ever given him. But Jenna’s philosophies of life would clash with those of his grandparents.
Best not to tell his grandmother about her yet. If Jenna didn’t really care for him, if she didn’t want to commit, then their relationship was going nowhere anyway. The thought made him feel hollow and chilled inside.
No, he’d be optimistic. Things would work out with him and Jenna, and his grandparents would look past her charming eccentricities and see her true worth. If they didn’t … Since they’d taken him in, he’d never gone against them on anything important. Their pride in him had been the strongest motivator in his life, except for the ocean itself.
Grandma concluded her story and said, “Try to get home for dinner. You’ll be busy with the symposium for the next two days, which leaves only Wednesday before you’re off to Indonesia.”
In grandparent-speak, this meant they’d missed him and wanted to spend some time with him. “I’ll try my best, Grandma. Even if I don’t make it for dinner, I’ll be early enough so we can talk for a couple of hours before bed.”
They’d talk about work. His and theirs. It was virtually all they ever discussed, and until now he’d never realized how limiting that was.
He closed his cell and took his laptop to the café, where he paused in the doorway. Jenna sat staring at a computer screen, seeming totally absorbed.
When he’d discovered marine biology, he’d felt the thrill of having a purpose in life. With Jenna, he felt a similar thrill. If they could work out their differences, they could live amazing lives together. But they sure did have differences; otherwise, he’d have told his grandma about her.
He walked toward Jenna and took the seat beside her. She jerked and shot him an uncertain look. He forced a smile. It was going to be an interesting conversation when they got back on the road.
When he opened his in-box and scanned the new messages, one from Adrienne, sent last night, caught his eye. It didn’t qualify as urgent, yet he opened it first.
Well? Is the sex still “weird”? LOL.
He shook his head ruefully. Yeah, he really had used that term, hadn’t he? But then, there was no perfect word to describe what happened when he and Jenna kissed and made love.
Seriously, how’s it going with Jenna? Have you figured out if she’s scared of love? And why? How about you? Are you falling, falling, fallen?? And when do I meet her?
Quickly, he tilted his computer to make sure Jenna, sitting beside him, couldn’t see the screen. He typed back,
OK, bad choice of words. Let’s try “amazing.” Falling? Yeah, seems so, at least for me. Her … Not so sure. Trying to figure her out. We’re really different people, but there’s a connection. I asked her to go to Indonesia.
He stared at the last sentence, then deleted it. No, that wasn’t for e-mail. Adrienne would be at the symposium, too, and they’d find private moments to talk. By then, he’d have a much better idea where things stood between him and Jenna.
Shit, by then they might be planning a future together, or they might have decided to never see each other again. Hard to believe that when he’d left Santa Cruz, his life had been stress free.
He darted a glance at Jenna, who was staring at an open e-mail. Yeah, life had been stress free, but far less interesting. Then he forced himself to pay attention to his own e-mail, most of it relating to Indonesia. A project he’d been so excited about, that would now feel a little empty if Jenna didn’t join him.
Chapter 11
I’d clicked open an e-mail from my young friend Anna but found myself staring unseeingly at the screen, unable to think about anything but the incredible offer Mark had made: to go to Indonesia for six months and be part of his team. To live in an exotic paradise and work hard on an interesting project.
To see Mark every day.
I forced myself not to glance over, not to try to see what he was typing away on.
Mark, the man who, in two days, had made me feel things I’d never believed possible. Physically and emotionally.
But I didn’t want emotional involvement. No freaking way. It was dangerous; it screwed up my judgment.
Maybe that wasn’t what he meant, though. He’d invited me to be a member of his team. Did he mean, I’d work for him but we wouldn’t have sex? Or would we? It was hard to imagine being with him and not wanting to leap him.
I realized my foot was jiggling with nervous tension. We needed to talk, and until then there was no point fussing. Determinedly, I read Anna’s message and sent off a reply.
Next I read an e-mail from Kat. Mostly, she raved about how incredible Nav was, then she said,
And Theresa’s locked up in her room every night having phone sex with Damien. Honestly, Jenna, it’s like some other person’s inhabited her body. You heard they had sex on Waikiki Beach, right?
“No way!” The words burst out of me. Quickly I glanced around, mouthing “sorry” to Mark and the others within earshot. Indonesia displaced in my mind, at least temporarily, I typed a reply.
You’re kidding, right??? Parallel universe, for sure! 10 days ago I was telling Tree she needed to dust off her hoo-ha and get back in the game, but she’s never listened to me before. LOL. Seriously, they just necked or something, right? Or had sex in a hotel room overlooking the beach?
Should I tell Kitty-Kat that I’d had some excellent action on the beach myself, with a very hot marine biologist? Yeah, I had fun shocking my family, but I’d be in for plenty enough flack when I showed up without Mellow Yellow. Best to leave Mark out of it, at least for now. Instead, I finished with:
Can’t wait to hear the full story. And meet Nav. Can’t believe the ’rents haven’t found his fatal flaw yet, but I’m up to the challenge
Hugs.
I glanced at Mark and saw he was focused on a spreadsheet. Yeah, he’d get along with my sister Tree.
Next, I sent a quick e-mail to my mom.
Mom, knock ’em dead at the SCC
I knew it was a super big deal for a lawyer to present an appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada, even though she’d done it half a dozen times before. I also knew that, if there was any possible way her side could win, my smart, determined mom would make it happen.
I’d barely sent the message when an e-mail pinged into my box from her.
Where are you?
I sat forward, typing quickly:
Tillamook. You?
She said:
Airport. I’ll call you.
My cell battery is dead.
Jenna, a cell phone is useless unless you keep it charged.
I groaned. In fact, I was quite happy not to talk to her, especially with Mark here beside me, staring intently at his laptop screen. Taking flack from her was easier by e-mail than over the phone.
How’s your car? (she asked.)
Mellow Yellow’s feeling mellow, and so am I.
I was sure my car was, now that it was being ministered to by Neal. As for
me, mellow wasn’t the right word. More like excited and totally confused.
I remembered that thing Mom had told me all those years ago, about falling a little in love with the man who awakens your sexuality, but not making the mistake of believing that love was a forever one. I’d made exactly that mistake when I was seventeen. Since then, I’d had lots of great sex with guys I really liked, but my heart had never been threatened.
Now, with Mark, the sex was on a whole different dimension. I felt … I had no idea what I felt.
I took my hands off the keyboard and dropped them to my lap. Glancing down, I saw his leg only inches from mine. Bare, tanned skin below khaki shorts tempted me to move my knee over and nudge his.
I wove my fingers together to keep from reaching out to touch him. I couldn’t be falling in love. I wouldn’t let myself. My life was perfect as it was.
My mother’s next e-mail arrived.
Don’t get so mellow you fail to pay attention to traffic.
I rolled my eyes and returned my hands to the keyboard.
I’m fine and I’m a careful driver.
Then, more slowly, I typed:
Mom, d’you remember when I was eleven or so, and you were giving me THE SEX TALK, you said something about falling for the first guy who awakens your sexuality?
I clicked SEND then jerked my hand away from the mouse, wishing I could pull the message back. Her response came.
Tell me you didn’t pick up a hitchhiker.
I groaned.
This is NOT about a hitchhiker. Forget it!!!!
She said:
That surfer? The Mexican one? Good God, Jenna, a surf bum?
No, a freaking marine biologist. Take that, Mom. But I wasn’t ready to share my personal life, especially with my mother.
No, not Carlos. It’s a hypothetical. Like you use in law all the time.