The Giving Season

by Rebecca Brock

  It had been a long night. She’d managed to avoid him after that kiss in the barn yesterday, and he seemed to be staying out of her way as well. It was just so hard to face him now. Knowing what she knew, she couldn’t act like nothing was wrong, like the thought of Michael and Ann together didn’t give her heart a vicious twist.

  But they needed to be together. The sad thing was that Jessy had ever thought for a moment that she might have had a chance.

  She turned away from the window and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the dresser mirror. Usually she could almost forget how big she really was, pushing the reality of her weight into an abstract concern. Even though her size influenced every aspect of her life from the clothes she wore to the way she sat down, she could usually manage to deny that she was as big as she really was.

  But not now. Now she felt every ounce of her weight, saw every flaw. She looked wide and bulging in her flannel nightgown. And to think that once upon a time she’d believed that maybe one day she would meet someone who would see her good qualities before he saw her flaws.

  The one night she had spent with Charlie, he’d had to get drunk before he could bear to make love to her. And she couldn’t call what they’d done making love. She’d been a virgin, scared to death, sick with fear that he’d look at her and be disgusted. And he’d been so drunk that she could have been anyone. To say it was perfunctory would be generous to Charlie. For her, it was painful in every way possible.

  But the next morning, when Charlie had woken up, he had looked at her and been horrified. Even though he had tried to hide it, she saw the truth in his eyes. She would never be anybody’s idea of beautiful or desirable or sexy. He got away from her as fast as he could, apologizing profusely without looking her in the eyes, and they’d never discussed that night again. He seemed to forget about it by the next day.

  But Jessy thought of it every time she looked at her body. How must she have looked to him? How must she look to Michael?

  A knock startled her out of her thoughts. Michael opened the door before she could jump back into bed or grab a robe, and for a moment all she could do was stand there in mortified silence as they stared at each other.

  “Sorry,” Michael muttered, looking away as Jessy snatched up a heavy chenille robe and slipped it on, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.

  “What do you want?” The words came out wrong, sounding far more abrupt than intended, but she didn’t apologize. She pushed her hair over her shoulders and tried not to look as awkward as she felt.

  “I couldn’t sleep last night.” Michael looked at her again. His eyes were dark-ringed, his cheeks unshaven, his dark hair dusted with melting snowflakes. “I couldn’t stop thinking about—everything.”

  Jessy needed something to do, something to keep her busy so she wouldn’t have to face Michael directly. Without a word she began to make up the bed, hoping that he didn’t notice how she had also tossed and turned and messed up the covers. She hadn’t been able to sleep, either; every time she closed her eyes, she saw Michael and Ann together, talking—laughing—making love.

  Michael sat down at the windowseat, silent as he watched Jessy make up the bed. Jessy didn’t look at him, but she knew all too well that he was staring at her. She knew how thick her waist must look to him as she kept her back to him, how broad her hips were as she leaned over the bed. For an instant she wanted to scream at him to stop looking at her, stop comparing her to Ann.

  “What happened with us?” he finally asked, his voice a rough whisper.

  “First of all, there is no ‘us.’” Jessy fluffed up a pillow and tossed it onto the bed, anything to keep from looking at him. “It was all just a mistake. Bad decisions.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jessy stiffened and finally turned to face him again. “It means that I shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t have kissed me. It means you’re still in love with Ann—and that unless you get your act together and remarry her, you’re going to lose your children.”

  Michael slowly frowned. “What—? How in the hell did you come up with that?”

  “That’s not important—”

  “I think it is.”

  “What’s important here is the fact that unless you do something, you are going to lose custody of your children.”

  “And by ‘do something,’ you mean get back together with Ann.”

  “Yes!” Jessy couldn’t hide her exasperation. “You still love her, and it’s obvious that she still loves you—”

  “So we should get back together for the kids’ sakes.” Michael’s disbelieving smile twisted. “You’ve been here exactly a week, Jessy. What makes you think you know how I feel about Ann? Or about you, for that matter?”

  “I’m just a friend,” Jessy murmured, needlessly smoothing down the quilt and arranging pillows.

  “What?”

  “I said, I’m just a friend.” Jessy straightened and faced him full on. This entire conversation was becoming surreal. “Like you said, I’ve been here all of a week. You’ve known me for six, maybe seven days. Days, Michael. I feel like I’m pushing it by calling myself a friend.”

  “But we’ve spent every one of those days together.” Michael ran a hand through his snow-dampened hair, forehead furrowed.

  “Being friends with someone isn’t the same as—”

  “Who said I just wanted to be friends?”

  Jessy would have done a double take at that moment had she been able to move. Or breathe. Or react in any way but to stare dumbly at him in shock. The conversation had moved from surreal to completely absurd. She couldn’t begin to comprehend even the possibility of what he could mean by that remark. She couldn’t accept it.

  “I shouldn’t have said that.” Michael shoved his hands in his pockets, then changed his mind and folded his arms over his chest, trying to look more casual than he felt. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” Jessy asked quietly.

  “For everything.” Michael took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m not doing this right at all. I don’t know how to say things like this. Never have.”

  “Say things like what?”

  “That I—” Another deep breath and time-buying sigh. “I—have feelings for you.”

  16.5pt"“Feelings?” Jessy sat down on the edge of the bed, utterly baffled by the entire situation. “Michael, I don’t think you know how you feel. Especially about me.”

  Michael laughed grimly. “And I suppose you do.”

  “I know that I’m not the kind of woman who inspires love at first sight,” Jessy said quietly. “And I know that if we hadn’t been forced to share that motel room, you would have never even given me a second glance. Right?”

  Jessy knew by the look of shamed surprise in Michael’s eyes that she was absolutely right. A sudden swell of disappointment and hurt choked her for a moment, but she willed it away. If nothing else, the pain would make it easier for her to let go.

  “I may not know you very well,” Jessy continued, voice softening, “but I saw something in the way you looked at Ann that—well, maybe you weren’t even aware of it, but it was there. And I saw it in the way Ann looked at you.”

  “And you don’t see it when I look at you?” Michael walked over to the bed, towering over Jessy. She raised her head, even though she didn’t know how in the world she was going to be able to meet his eyes. “Jessy—I don’t know any other way to tell you that I like you—”

  “Of course you like me,” Jessy said quietly, lowering her head again. “It doesn’t take a whole lot of effort to like somebody—”

  “Would you please, for once, stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself?” Michael snapped, losing his patience.

  Jessy froze, stunned as she managed to meet Michael’s eyes again. For a moment the silence in the room felt like a tangible thing. Michael’s face paled as he abruptly turned away from her, looking out the window to the rising sun.

  “What?” Jessy couldn’t hide the
sharp edge of anger in her voice.

  “You heard me.” Michael faced her again, meeting her glare dead-on. “Every other word out of your mouth is some kind of self-deprecating remark and I’m getting just a little damn tired of it.”

  “Oh, okay—so is this the standard ‘How do you expect anyone to love you if you can’t love yourself’ speech?” Jessy could feel rage thrumming through her entire body, could hear it trembling in her voice. “If it is, then spare me, Michael. Because I’ve heard just about every variation of it that there is.”

  “Then why hasn’t it sunken in yet?”

  “For God’s sake—” Jessy muttered, turning away from him as she strode towards the door. She opened it wider, an unmistakable gesture that Michael ignored.

  “I’m just trying to help you, Jess—”

  “Help me? How is this helping me?” Jessy caught herself and looked away for a moment. “Please leave me alone.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Jessy gritted her teeth. “What do you expect me to do, Michael?”

  “I don’t expect you to do anything.” The sharpness of his tone inflamed Jessy’s rage even further. His anger easily matched hers. “Damn it, Jessy—if you can’t even accept how I feel about you—”

  “You haven’t heard anything I’ve said, have you?” Jessy stood, braced for battle. “Michael, you don’t have ‘feelings’ for someone you’ve only known for a week. And you’ve got to think about the kids—”

  “The kids love you.”

  “I don’t mean that.” Jessy pushed a hank of hair away from her eyes and paced the length of the room. “Have you even stopped to think of what Ann might do if she found out about this? You were the one who said she’d try to take the kids away from you.”

  Michael remained stubbornly silent, eyes hard as he stared at Jessy.

  “You were married to Ann for a long time. You built a life and family with her. As you said, you’ll always love her because of the kids.” Jessy took a deep breath and sighed. “I know you like me, Michael, but it’s just because I’m a distraction from what’s worrying you. It’s not love or anything else. This isn’t some kind of silly fairy tale.”

  Michael’s jaw twitched as he ground his teeth, looking away from Jessy for a moment as he shook his head.

  “So what are you saying?” he asked quietly. “That Ann and I should get back together for the kids’ sake?” Michael’s gaze met hers again, a bitter smile twisting on his lips. “That’s pretty damn noble of you, Jess.”

  “I’m not trying to be noble, Michael.” Jessy’s voice was little more than a whisper as she looked into his eyes again, hoping to make him understand. “I’m trying to keep those kids from getting hurt.”

  “Do you think that I want them to be hurt?” Michael’s brows drew together in a fierce scowl. “Do you think I want her to take them away from me?”

  “Of course not.” Jessy stared him down, unblinking as she returned his glare. “I just don’t think you’re considering your other options.”

  “And those would be—?”

  Jessy couldn’t speak for a moment, too exasperated, too frustrated, to think clearly. She wasn’t doing this right. She didn’t have enough practical experience with these matters to know what to do or say. What if she did have a relationship with Michael? Would Ann be spiteful and try to use that against him in order to win custody? What would losing the kids do to Michael and Lyssa? It all seemed like too much to risk for a so-called relationship that wouldn’t last past Christmas. There was just far too much at stake.

  “Michael,” she said softly, “I think you know in your heart what you should do.”

  “In my heart,” Michael repeated dully, nodding as he slowly walked to Jessy. “In my heart, I know that my feelings for you are more than—”

  “Don’t,” Jessy whispered. Part of her wanted desperately to hear him out. But for the kids’ sake—for her own sake—she couldn’t let Michael delude himself into thinking that his feelings for her went any farther than friendship. The silence that settled between them chilled her to the soul.

  “Michael,” she finally said, “you don’t know me. Not really. And I don’t know you. All we really know about each other is that we’re both lonely—and that we met at a time when we both needed a friend.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Michael muttered. “We’ve had this argument before—”

  “And we’ll keep having it until you realize the truth.”

  “And what is the truth, Jessy?” Anger made his tone brittle. The lines in his brow, between his eyes, deepened. “Come on—I’m listening. What is this mysterious truth that you and only you know?”

  Jessy hesitated a moment before speaking. The reasoning that sounded so good to her own mind suddenly seemed pathetic. Regardless, she forced herself to keep Michael’s steady gaze, forced her voice to remain calm and controlled.

  “I don’t belong here, Michael.” Jessy swallowed hard, pausing a moment as Michael angrily rolled his eyes and turned away. Jessy continued, raising her voice slightly, forcing him to hear her words. “You want someone in your life, someone to share your family with, but it’s not me. I can’t step into Ann’s role when she—when she’s never really left it.”

  Michael slowly turned to face her again, stunned. “So—you could walk away from this. You could walk away from us.”

  “I don’t want to, Michael—but if you’d just stop and think about it—” Jessy shook her head, voice dropping almost to a whisper. “I don’t really have any choice.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” he repeated, the slightest undercurrent of mockery in his voice. “After everything—”

  “What everything, Michael? We’ve only known each other a week.” She caught herself, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You’re getting pity and loneliness and infatuation all mixed up. It’s not me you feel anything for, Michael. It’s the idea of having someone. That’s all.”

  Mouth set in a tight line, Michael nodded his head, rubbing at the back of his neck as he took a deep breath and then slowly, deliberately released it. He looked away from Jessy for a moment, swallowing hard when he finally glanced back to her again.

  “I—uh—” He shrugged, as if struggling to retain his composure. “I don’t know what else to say. I guess you’ve just got it all figured out. You obviously know what’s best for me and my kids, so—I don’t suppose there’s any use in arguing with you, is there?”

  Jessy’s gaze was unwavering as she looked back at him. “You know that’s not what I’m saying.”

  Before Michael could reply, Ben opened the door and poked his head into the room. “Daddy? Can we ride horses today?”

  Michael turned to face him, plastering a makeshift smile on his face as he lightened his tone. “Sure, Benny-boy—go on downstairs and eat breakfast first.”

  Ben grinned and disappeared again, footsteps thundering down the hall. Michael turned back to Jessy again, smile gone.

  “I know you’re self-conscious about your weight, Jessy. I’ve seen the way you try to hide yourself, the way you avoid mirrors. If that’s the reason why you can’t believe what I’m telling you—”

  “My reasons are none of your business,” Jessy said sharply.

  It was as though she had slapped his face. Michael said nothing for a moment, studying Jessy with an intensity that made her feel foolish and mean. Neither of them spoke; neither of them looked away. It was a war of wills that would have no winners.

  “Fine,” Michael finally said, his tone clipped and cold. “If you’ve decreed that this is the way it’s going to be, then I guess you’re right. It’s none of my business.”

  He strode past Jessy, taking particular care not to touch her. Somehow that was worse than anything he could have possibly said. She felt suddenly repugnant, acutely self-conscious. Michael paused at the doorway, half-turning to face her again, keeping his eyes averted as he spoke.

  “I don’t understand why you’re
doing this, Jessy. I know you’ve got your reasons. I know they’re none of my business, but—” He shook his head and finally met her eyes again. “But if you think I can’t have feelings for you—or God forbid, maybe even fall in love with you—because of something so unimportant as your weight, then—”

  His voice trailed away as he held her gaze for a few long moments, his eyes darkened by either rage or regret—Jessy couldn’t tell the difference anymore. Without another word he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  Jessy sank down on the bed, staring at the reflection of herself in the dresser mirror, looking at her protruding stomach, her drooping breasts, her double chin. Even with all the good qualities she knew she possessed, she could never get past this, the unlovely exterior. And if she couldn’t accept it, how could she ever expect someone like Michael to accept it?

  Wrenching her gaze away from the mirror, she looked at the door again, wondering just what she had done.

  “Hold on, hon—don’t wiggle around the saddle.” Michael held onto Ben as he led the pony along the edge of the corral. Marie and Libby sat on the fence, watching and waiting their turn. The three of them were unusually quiet this morning, acutely aware of Jessy’s absence. They hadn’t asked Michael yet why she wasn’t with them, but he knew it would just be a matter of time. And then the fun would begin.

  “Daddy, look!” Marie jumped down from the fence. “Here comes Mommy!”

  Michael stopped and turned around, his already thin smile fading when he saw Ann’s car coming up the driveway. He’d forgotten all about her day with the kids. He helped Ben scoot down from the pony, remaining inside the corral as the kids ran to meet her. Maybe he could get away with avoiding her completely—

  Ann saw him and waved, immediately making her way over to him.

  Michael took a deep breath and sighed, feeling as if he were girding himself for battle.