***
“He did a great job, actually,” Justin told me later as we snuggled in his bed. I’d stayed through the night two times now, but otherwise I felt compelled to return to my own apartment for Clint’s sake. Justin understood; though I longed to stay with him, he dutifully drove me back around the lake every night. We’d make out like teenagers in his truck in the parking lot, then again on my landing. We’d spent just about every free minute with each other in the last month, and sometimes my happiness was so complete that it scared me a little. I knew exactly what Justin had meant when he’d told me he couldn’t count on anything anymore, but I forced myself not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts.
“And he listened to you?” I asked.
“Of course. He’s the kindest kid I’ve ever known, seriously. When I think of how I acted at that age. Damn. You know.”
“No, tell me,” I teased him.
“He’s so sincere,” Justin marveled. “I was such a shit at that age, so mouthy to Dad. And I would bet that you never so much as laid a hand on Clint when he was naughty.”
“No, but he’s never really been naughty,” I admitted. “It’s like he sensed that I had a rougher time because his dad was gone and didn’t give me trouble.” Justin’s arms tightened around me. I went on, softly, “I’m not feeling sorry for myself, truly. Moving back in with Mom and Ellen and Gran was the best thing I could have done. They helped me so much. It wasn’t like I was ever truly alone.”
“But you were hurting so much,” Justin said, his just above a whisper. “I remember those days. I remember how you looked that first summer, Jilly. God, it was heartbreaking.”
“But you were there too and you made me laugh, brought me back to life,” I reminded him. In the next instant I was struck with a Notion. It was intense and sudden, and I made a small sound, bringing my hands up to my forehead instinctively.
“Jilly, what’s wrong?” Justin asked, rolling to his elbow. He sounded so concerned but I couldn’t answer for a moment, as a vision of Jo sobbing ripped through my mind.
“It’s Jo,” I told him, moving my hands away from my face. “She’s crying.”
Justin had known about my ability to sense things forever, since we were kids, but he’d never actually witnessed me experience it. He looked at me with such seriousness, cupping my face with one hand, keeping his other arm tight around my waist. He asked, “Are you all right? That hit you so fast.”
I breathed in and looked up at him; he was angled above me, his eyebrows drawn in with concern, his hand so warm as it bracketed my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. I said, “I’m just fine, sweetheart. But Jo needs me right now.”
He nodded, saying, “I’ll bring you home.”
I dressed quickly while Justin pulled on his jeans and shrugged back into his t-shirt. Once dressed, he caught me close and hard for a moment at the foot of the bed, whispering, “God, I love you Jillian.”
“Justin,” I whispered, clinging to him, kissing his neck. I finally said, “I don’t want to leave, but she needs me.”
“Blythe?” he guessed. We’d discussed it several times since the Fourth.
“It must be,” I said. “Dammit.”
At the café, ten minutes later, Justin held me close in the cab of his truck and asked, “Should I stay? I worry about you out here all alone.”
I kissed his chin, not wanting him to go back home alone either. Joelle wasn’t here yet, I could sense immediately, but would be soon. And she needed me. I tipped my face against Justin’s neck and inhaled. His arms tightened again. Eyes closed, I murmured, “I’m just going to wait for her on the dock.”
“I know, but you’re mine now and I worry about everything,” he said against my hair. “What if you fall asleep down there and get kidnapped?”
At that I did giggle, knowing he was half-kidding. I teased, “By a pirate ship that pulls up to the dock?”
He laughed a little too, but said, “Not funny. Call me later, all right? I don’t care how late.”
“I will,” I assured him, and we kissed a slow, sweet kiss. I stood in the parking lot minutes later and watched his taillights head back around the lake, sensing his reluctance. But he understood, I knew that too. And my sister needed me right now. Or would, very shortly.
Less than a half hour later I was smoking my fourth cigarette (after appropriating the pack on the windowsill), when I heard Blythe’s truck pull into the lot, just up the incline from the dock. I tensed, waiting, but only a minute later Jo was alone, coming out onto the dock where she knew I would be, as Bly drove slowly away. I turned to her and said without preamble, “I’m sorry, Joelle, I am so sorry.”
“Oh, Jill,” she moaned, sinking beside me, her voice ravaged by tears. Immediately she bent forward and hid her face, sobbing wretchedly.
Jo, dammit. I knew this would happen. I wanted to ask for details but wisely kept my mouth shut, rubbing her back and projecting my love for her into my touch. She kept repeating, her voice cracked and choked, “I love him, Jillian, I love him so much.”
But again I remained silent, letting her cry, letting her know I’d be here, no matter what.
Chapter Eighteen
August 2003
“So what do you want for your birthday?” Justin murmured against my neck. I tilted my head to give him better access and he pressed soft kisses along the top of my shoulder while I shivered and clutched his forearms, secure around my waist from behind. I was drowsy and so warm; Justin was like my own personal furnace, and I loathed the thought of getting up. Just one more minute, I kept thinking, and then five minutes would pass. I slipped my leg between his and closed my eyes.
“Just you,” I murmured back, and felt him smile against my bare skin.
“You’ve got me,” he assured me, his voice low and content. “I mean something you don’t have already.”
“A unicorn,” I whispered, then giggled a little. “I still don’t have one of those.”
“Done,” he whispered back. “A unicorn with a pink horn. And rainbow streamers in its mane and all that shit?”
I giggled more as he bit my neck. I said, “That’s it exactly. How did you guess?”
“I do have a little sister,” he reminded me, his hands warm on my belly.
“Clinty was just asking me about what I wanted too,” I said. “I honestly have everything I want.”
“Jilly, quit with that. You get spoiled on your birthday in my book.”
“I think I did give you extra coffee on yours,” I teased. “But that was back in May when I was so attracted to you I could hardly be near you.”
“Oh, really?” he asked, sounding satisfied. “Same goes for me, with you.”
“That morning you stretched right in front of me. That was just cruel,” I told him, reaching to slide my hands over his bulging muscles, just because I could. I shivered again, with delight, as his strong arms tightened around me.
Justin snorted a laugh, saying, “Yes, I’ve always thought of myself as a cruel man.”
“You are,” I insisted. “With your work shirt that’s always unbuttoned and showing your chest hair. It drives me crazy.”
He was laughing in earnest now, his head tipped back. I rolled to face him and poked his ribs, which made him curl forward and grab for my tickling hands. “My ch…chest hair?” he managed to gasp out, catching both my hands before I lit into his sides again.
“It’s sexy,” I informed him, laughing now too, wrestling to free my wrists from his iron grip. He used his considerable size advantage and pinned me onto the mattress.
“Well I’m glad you think so,” he said, shaking his head, grinning down at me. “I have plenty.”
“I love it,” I said, glaring up at him, pretending to be angry at his teasing. “Now let me up!”
He shook his head wordlessly.
“I mean it,” I said, squirming to free myself, hampered by my breathless giggles. “I can’t breathe!”
“Oh that’s the oldes
t trick in the book,” he said, keeping my wrists held out to the sides, one leg braced over both of mine. “No way am I falling for that.”
“You’re in trouble,” I pronounced; though my efforts were clearly futile, I still struggled.
“I’m not the one flat on my back,” he said, then laughed again at my expression.
“Justin Daniel Miller,” I threatened. “I will…withhold sex from you!”
In response he pinned my wrists even more firmly into the mattress before bending down and kissing my neck, softly, the kind of tender kiss that made shivers ripple all along my body.
“I will not…fall for that,” I whispered, but his dark eyes were both amused and confident. Slowly he kissed the opposite side of my neck, a warm, sensual kiss that made my eyes close inadvertently.
Willpower, Jillian, I told myself.
But I was no match.
He breathed against my skin, then kissed the edge of my lips, again soft as a feather. A butterfly’s wing grazing my mouth. My nipples were hard as gemstones against his chest and I arched against him, making a small sound in my throat. He grinned lazily and then fell for my trap, releasing my wrists to cup my breasts in both hands. As he freed me I twisted to the side like lightning and shimmied from beneath him, shrieking and laughing as he lunged and caught me around the waist, the sheet hampering my escape efforts.
“Nice try,” he murmured, this time pinning me flat on my belly with his weight, forearms braced around my shoulders. His breath was warm on my neck as he said, “Now, tell me what you want for your birthday and I’ll let you up.”
“I’ll scream!” I told him.
He laughed heartlessly. “No one to hear you.”
Justin kissed my back, moving slowly over my shoulder blades. I felt feverish, shivering and heated, as his hands stroked languidly over my thighs and drew them apart.
“Too bad you’re holding out on me,” he murmured against the back of my neck, caressing me in earnest.
“Don’t stop,” I ordered breathlessly, curling my fingers around the sheets and clutching tight. And then, “Oh my God, Justin, don’t stop.”
He smiled against my skin and muttered, “I wasn’t planning to, baby. Now come here.”
***
Later I remembered what I’d wanted to ask him and murmured, “You don’t think Jackson is planning anything for tomorrow night, do you?”
“He hasn’t said anything to me if he is,” Justin said sleepily from behind me, kissing my ear. “What would he have planned?”
I shrugged, still uneasy about Jackie being in Landon. He’d been here all month, starting back in July when he’d fought with Blythe and been part of the reason that Bly landed back in jail in Oklahoma, where he still had a week of his sentence to serve. Poor Jo. She was distraught these days, bitchy and worried, and to make matters worse, Jackson had abruptly decided that he wanted her back. He had even gone so far as to try to take advantage of Jo’s drunken stupor just over a week ago. Of course I hadn’t let that happen, but still. Jackson was cagey, and manipulative, and he had the edge over Blythe in the fact that he was the girls’ father and shared so many memories with my sister. I wouldn’t rest completely easy until he was safely home in Chicago, without Joelle.
“Jo knows better,” Justin murmured. He sounded slightly more alert as he added, “Although you know he’s been trying to win her back. I told you I think he’s truly sorry, but it won’t last. I mean, I like the guy. He was my best friend once upon a time. But I wouldn’t trust him to keep his word.”
“Jo gets that, but she’s worried about the girls,” I said. “It’s plain as day that Ruthie especially wants them back together. Jo feels guilty, I can see it all over her face. Dammit, I wish Bly would hurry and get back here.”
“He will. And all kids want their parents together,” Justin observed. “Even when it’s the worst decision in the world.”
“Do you?” I asked him quietly.
“Sure, at some level. But they were the wrong match, I knew it from the time I was a kid. Doesn’t make it any easier though.”
“I always wondered if I’d feel that way if I’d ever known Mick,” I said. “If he’d been around long enough to allow for a few memories. But it’s always just been the womenfolk.”
“Do you think he’s still alive out there?” Justin asked.
“If so, I don’t know that it would matter anymore. He’s a stranger to us.”
“Still, I’d like to thank him,” Justin said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked in surprise.
“For being around long enough to get Joanie pregnant with you,” Justin told me. “For giving me the love of my life, that’s why, smart ass.”
“Aw, sweetheart,” I said, all melting and mushy yet again.
He leaned on one elbow and I tilted my head to kiss him one more time.
***
I found Gran in the kitchen at Shore Leave the next afternoon, stirring up the frosting for the chocolate cake that was even now baking in all its glory in the oven. She gave me a grin and allowed me to snag a fingertip of the decadent, creamy concoction in the ancient yellow bowl that had been used for frosting-making for all of my life.
“You excited for tonight?” she asked.
“Of course,” I replied. “It’s been a long time since Jo and I have had a birthday party like this.”
“It’s so good to see you so happy, honey,” Gran observed, and I leaned over onto my elbows and smiled into Gran’s familiar golden-green eyes.
“I am,” I said, though I was usually the last person to make such statements; at some level they scared me too much, as though to speak aloud your good fortune was just begging for it to be snatched away. But for this moment, in the warm kitchen where I had spent at least half of my life, I allowed myself to acknowledge it.
“When Great-Aunt Minnie told me I’d be all right all those years ago, did she mean about Chris?” I asked softly then.
Gran pursed her lips and paused for just a moment in her stirring. Finally she said, “I don’t honestly know, Jillian. Minnie told me some things and kept others entirely to herself. She knew it was too much a burden for people to bear. I don’t know how she did it. Or how you do it, doll. The Notions strike you hard sometimes, don’t they?”
I nodded. “But not the way you make it seem. I can’t imagine not having them. Minnie used to tell me that I would never see more than I could handle.”
“Have you ever?” Gran regarded me somberly.
“No…but there’ve been times when it deserted me, and I didn’t know why. Like with Christopher.” My voice was very soft.
“It’s because the boy has been for you all along,” Gran said, her voice likewise soft. “That’s why.”
I felt tears spring into my eyes at just the thought of my Justin. How much I loved and needed him, and I knew Gran was right.
“Now, you go and get yourself fixed up, honey. I’ve gotta finish this cake before you eat all of it,” Gran snapped good-naturedly.
Despite the fact that words of affection normally got Gran all bristly, I said, “I love you, Gran. With all my heart.”
“I love you too, fool girl. Now get!”
***
By evening Shore Leave had been transformed into a birthday wonderland. The air was beautiful, clear and crisp with the approaching autumn. The lake was indigo, glass-smooth as dusk approached. The yard was decorated with lanterns and Christmas lights, the picnic tables laden with food, the cake taking center stage, a gooey chocolate masterpiece. Eddie Sorensen and Jim Olson had been playing up a storm and everyone was laughing and dancing, even Jo. I was glad to see her smiling, though it was about half sincere; I knew she’d been unable to talk to Blythe for at least a week. But I felt a ribbon of relief as I observed her dancing with Dodge.
Justin had been almost giddy with excitement all evening, like a little boy with a secret. No matter how much I pestered and teased and threatened, he wouldn’t tell me what
he had up his sleeve. Clint was likewise smiley and kept shooting little looks my way too. I’d been in Justin’s arms all evening; he’d braved the dance floor since the music began. When Dodge came to cut in, he’d teased, “Sorry, she’s taken,” to which Dodge responded by simply wrapping his arms around both of us and proceeded to waltz us around in circles.
Clinty came to dance with me after the cake pictures, and I marveled anew at my handsome son, already taller than me by inches. I’d noticed one of the younger Henry girls (their aunt Laura had been in my grade) watching him with rapt attention all evening. Her name was Claire, a cute little thing, and she’d been in Clinty’s class since kindergarten. Clint, however, was apparently oblivious to her attention.
“Happy birthday, Mom,” he said, grinning down at me.
“Thanks, sweetie,” I told him, then poked him in the ribs. “Hey, what’s Justin’s secret tonight?”
Clint’s blue eyes glinted and he said, “Oh, no. It’s a secret for a reason, Mom.”
“You know then? Tell me!” I nagged, but he only shook his head, grinning.
“There’s a girl with her eye on you,” I couldn’t help but tease him, and I giggled to observe my son’s eyebrows lift and jaw all but drop. He became instantly wary, looking around the dancing crowd as though she was a spy, or perhaps armed.
“Nuh-uh,” he said. His voice cracked as he asked, “Who?”
“Oh, no,” I responded gaily. “That you’ve got to figure out on your own. Unless you tell me a secret…”
Clint yelped good-naturedly, “I can’t believe I almost fell for that!”
The music ended and Clinty ran off to grab Liam in a headlock and speculate who might possibly be checking him out. I navigated my way through the crowd to find Justin. He was sitting with his dad, Wordo and a couple of other men, all of them holding beer bottles and paper plates of cake.
“Here, sweetheart, I’ve got room,” he told me, angling his knee for me to perch upon, which I did, swiping my finger through his frosting. He hooked one arm around my waist, his beer bottle near my hip. I appropriated it for a sip.
“Happy birthday, Jilly,” Wordo told me, grinning. “Has Justin given you your birthday spankings yet?”
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