by Munn, Vella
“That we carried our father’s blood. He might be dead, but we were still his legacy. She...”
Cry if you need to. I’m here.
“Mackenzie hadn’t really mourned Dad. She was like me, in shock. Neither of us had truly wrapped our minds around losing him. I knew she had to accept reality but not let it define her life. To live a life our dad would have been proud of.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“I know but—you deserve to hear—I want you to...”
“Go on.”
“I knew what Dad would have said.” He sighed. “It’s gentle here, everything in rhythm. I love that.” He paused. “Her coming to terms with her grief and anger made a big difference. When she stopped trying to lock her feelings away, her life came back together.”
“That wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“I understood what she was going through.”
“Of course you did.”
When he didn’t respond, she started rubbing his knee. It was a gesture she’d once used to let him know she wanted to make love. This time she just wanted him to be aware that she was here and that she’d never felt closer to him. That she agreed that nature was in rhythm. “Why was your sister mad at your dad?”
“Because he didn’t need to die. He shouldn’t have taken that damn motorcycle onto the freeway.”
Grunting, Jes stood and headed toward the fire pit only to stop when he was halfway there and watch a squirrel scramble up a tree. Much as she wanted to touch him, he needed his space. “His bike scared Mom. He promised he’d stay on surface streets, but after the accident we figured out that he’d been late hooking up with a friend and—taking the freeway would have been faster.”
“His decision cost him his life. It also robbed his wife of her husband and his children of a father.”
“A stupid decision.” Jes glanced at her then returned his attention to the squirrel. “I was so angry at him. For a long time that’s all I was, furious.”
Say what you’re thinking. No more bottling things up. Let the squirrel and me hear. “Jes, those words are precious to me. This is something I’ve wanted to hear for years.”
He studied her for a long time. “I understand that, now.”
“Did your mother know how you felt?”
“No. She needed me to be strong.”
Whether he wanted her touch or not didn’t matter. She needed to hold onto him, so she joined him and laced her fingers through his. His breathing again became ragged.
“She was overwhelmed.”
“She wasn’t the only one. I’d lost my best friend and was furious when that was the last thing I wanted to feel.”
“Did you talk to anyone?”
He studied their entwined hands. “Several teachers reached out. So did my uncle on Mom’s side and my grandparents. I told them I was fine.”
“But you weren’t.”
He grabbed her and pushed her as far from him as he could without letting go. A tear leaked from his right eye. “Life went on. Days, months, and then years passed. Dad—sometimes I have trouble remembering what he looked like.”
Help him. “What kind of coach was he? Did he yell?”
“No. Never. He told me he refused to be like some of the coaches he’d had, ones whose sense of worth is wrapped up in how many games the team wins.”
“And that’s the kind of father you want to be.”
Looking vulnerable, he nodded.
“What about the players? Did they like him?”
“Some said they wished their dads were as understanding as mine.”
She knew what she needed to say, she just wasn’t sure how to get the words out. As she struggled to pull everything together, she brushed his chest. He shuddered and relaxed his hold on her a little. Let her come closer. Her sandals made no sound on the needle-littered earth.
You and I are alive, she wanted to tell him. Maybe more alive than we’ve ever been.
“You didn’t know what to do with your feelings,” she whispered.
“No, I didn’t.”
“There were so many of them. Your father was a good man, a model father and husband. But he did something stupid and you’d never have him back.”
“Never have him back,” Jes said. “Like what happened with us.”
Chapter Ten
If Jes was waiting for her to agree with him, she wasn’t sure she could give him what he wanted because so much emotion surrounded her. “Why did it take us so long to get to the point where we could talk about what really matters?” she asked.
“Maybe because getting over hating each other took a year.”
“I never hated you.”
He reared back. “You acted like it.”
She’d long wanted Jes to express himself, but now that he was in some respects she wanted back his silence. “I never said—”
“A woman who cares what her husband is going through doesn’t walk out on him.”
She jerked free. “I didn’t know what you were going through because you never told me—”
“I tried.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Right before you left, I asked you to meet me at that restaurant near the shop.”
“I remember,” she said around what she wasn’t sure was fury after all. “I was a few minutes late but you weren’t there.”
The restaurant, a café really, was in an industrial area. She’d felt out of place in her heels and skirt. The waitress had asked if she wanted to order but she was tied in too many knots to trust her stomach. If she’d ever needed her husband’s attention and advice, it had been then.
“I couldn’t help it,” he said. “An order had just been delivered and because my two best employees were in jail I was shorthanded.”
“You could have told me.”
“Yes, I could have.” He shook his head. “But I was so used to trying to convince you I had everything under control.”
When he’d finally shown up he’d complimented her on her outfit. It took looking back to realize she hadn’t been the only one without an appetite. Jes had held her hand while talking about the weather and suggesting she get new tires.
“I kept waiting for you to tell me why you wanted us to get together,” she said.
“I wish you’d asked. I was entering new territory with you, trying to anyway.”
“Maybe I should have sensed that, but you weren’t the only thing on my mind.”
“Oh?”
He hadn’t noticed her preoccupation and silences during their short time together. At least that was how she remembered it.
“No.” It no longer mattered, but Jes deserved as much openness from her as he’d given her when he’d told her about his father. Much more than she’d ever gotten from her parents. “I was expected at a meeting early that afternoon. I was going to be late but seeing you was more important.”
“Why?”
Why. A question she would have hungrily answered if they’d had more time together that day. Maybe, if they had, they wouldn’t be getting divorced.
“I’d been offered a promotion. It would have meant a substantial raise and becoming part of management. Validation of all the effort I’d put into my job.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I tried to but your cell phone kept going off.”
“Just twice. I was able to handle the first call without leaving. We’d been there, what, half an hour when I got the other one.”
From what she’d gathered, a larger than expected order had come in that required Jes’s immediate attention. After rubbing his forehead, he’d gotten up and kissed her. She’d said she was pleased for him. Instead of agreeing, he’d just looked tired. As she watched him trudge toward the door, she’d longed to rush after him.
But she hadn’t.
“You had enough time to tell me what was on your mind, same as I did,” he said. “I was going crazy trying to think of things to talk about. It was like being with a stranger.”
“We were like that a lot at the end.”
“Yes, we were. You were so darned quiet I was afraid...”
“Of what?”
He glanced at Mount Lynx then again gave her his full attention. “Please take pictures of that for me. That you were going to tell me you couldn’t do this marriage thing any more, that I’d made a mess of my role. I had.”
“No.” Her emotions were making her crazy. Jes was more perceptive than she’d ever given him credit for. “I hated how things were going between us but that’s not what was on my mind that day.”
“You wanted your husband to congratulate you on your promotion but couldn’t decide how best to tell him?”
If Jes wanted a thousand pictures of Mount Lynx she’d take them for him. “I felt trapped.”
“You didn’t want the promotion.”
“I didn’t want anything about the stupid job.”
His legs ate up the distance between them, and his hands settled on her shoulders, putting them back in contact with each other. “I would have understood. Believe me, I would have.”
Not long ago she would have countered by pointing out how little time he’d had for her. Now she understood how badly she’d messed up. How much baggage she’d brought to their marriage. Her parents’ idea of a vacation had been to take her to New York City, not camping out with nature all around. “We needed for me to have a stable job.”
“Not at the expense of your happiness or sanity. You didn’t take that promotion. Instead you quit your job. I wish you’d confided in me.”
“I wish I had, too.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Be honest. “I’ve thought a lot about that. It was the kind of job my folks approved of. Stability and room for advancement. I kept telling myself I needed to be thankful because I was making good money, to get over the insane notion that a photography career was possible. My dissatisfaction and longing for something I didn’t have—that’s what I couldn’t make myself admit to you.”
“You were envious of me?”
“I—yes, I was.”
“Because I never told you that it was far from perfect for me.”
“You tried to shield yourself from pain by not talking about losing your dad. You carried that same mindset to our marriage. I let you in large part because that’s what I learned from my parents.”
“The only way you could have what you needed was by leaving me?”
She couldn’t speak.
“Your absent husband was following his dream. At least that’s what I wanted you to believe.” He held her so tight it hurt. “Look at what you’ve accomplished. You’ve done it, realized your dream.”
Except for the husband part. I lost that.
Chapter Eleven
“I’ll always miss him,” Jes said. “But I’m grateful for the time we had.”
They were standing side by side, looking up at Mount Lynx. There was going to be a full moon tonight, perfect for picture taking. She still ached from the hug Jes had given her and hoped he understood why she’d slipped out from under his embrace—only her ribs weren’t why, were they?
Awash in emotions. Realizing that in some respects he knew her better than she did herself. Admitting she’d piled so much blame on her husband that she’d downplayed her role in their issues. She needed to apologize for keeping so much to herself but didn’t know how to start.
“I didn’t want to come here today,” he said. “Even with wanting to tell you about the offer for Silent Wheels, I kept wishing we could do it some other way.”
She’d almost forgotten about the money. “I nearly changed my mind more than once but kept telling myself we were civilized enough that—”
“Now I’m glad. This has been a powerful lesson in how important it is not to not bottle things up.”
“We’re kind of messed up.”
“Yeah, we are. I needed this conversation. Maybe I’ve never needed anything more.”
“I feel the same way.”
He lightly rubbed her arm. “I’m wrung out. Emotionally naked.”
“So am I.” I love how you touch me.
He smiled. It didn’t last long. “On my way up here—I might not say this right. You don’t have to do anything with it. In fact, it’s probably better if you don’t but—when I first saw you today all those complex emotions faded away. The only thing I thought was that I used to love you.”
I used to love you. She rested a trembling hand against his cheek. “You were once my world.”
He breathed deeply. “And you—were mine. That’s why—that’s why I want you to share in the proceeds of the sale.”
Something was happening beneath the surface, honesty being expressed in touches and locked gazes. She could either let the moment pass or hold onto it with every bit of strength in her heart. “Jes, I still love you.”
The words swirled around her like a strong wind. She’d never felt more exposed, never been so honest.
He closed then opened his eyes, moved his hand from her shoulder to the base of her throat. “And I still love you.”
A sensation she’d been fighting for hours took hold. Her cheeks were on fire and lightning touched every inch of her skin.
Her naked skin. Jes’s naked skin.
Alive and close. Emotionally opened up. Their bodies speaking to each other.
“How did we lose sight of that?” she managed.
“Stupidity. Life getting in the way.”
“What do we do now?”
“Change. I know I want to.”
She couldn’t speak for the tears she might or might not shed. His eyes glittered as he brought her hands to his mouth and kissed the backs of her knuckles. Her legs weakened. Earlier there’d been a heaviness to his features, but they were becoming lighter, younger, freer. She felt the same way.
I’m with Jes. We’re together. Trying.
“We’ve said so much,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I have anything more in me.”
“I’ll leave if you want me to. Maybe we need time to process what—time alone.”
She’d left him once and had gone a year barely speaking to him. She wouldn’t let that happen again.
She swallowed. “I need you here. Doing what we were once so good at.”
“And after?”
They passed through the door together and he closed it behind them. He pulled off his shirt and when she nodded he did the same to hers. Aware of how fragile this moment was, she unfastened her bra and tossed it at the couch. Shoes came next. On the way to the bedroom she noticed he was having trouble with his damp jeans. Thankful for having a task to perform, she brushed his hands from his waist and slipped her fingers between denim and skin. She pulled down his zipper while he waited with his hands inches from her breasts.
“My turn,” he said when he was naked with his erection waiting for her. He took hold of her shorts’ waistband and pulled her closer. She concentrated on remaining upright while he tackled the rest of her clothes.
Naked. Both of them. So ready for lovemaking she had started to break apart. To dismiss everything else.
Jes pulled back the coverlet and blankets and lifted her onto the bed. “Do you still have an IUD?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And you haven’t had sex since we—”
“No.”
He nodded. “Me either.”
Then he was beside her, stretched out on his side with his hand trailing over her breasts as he’d done thousands of times. Wanting him to know what the touch was doing to her, she cupped his erection, making small animal sounds as she did.
This was so easy, an act performed countless times with him.
And yet new.
Feeling newborn.
Gloriously alive. Opened up and honest. Hopeful. Scared.
Despite the long, lonely, and sexless months and sexual desire circling ever closer, she didn’t hurry taking him into her body. These moments were precious, a spring morni
ng and summer’s heat rolled together. She stroked the familiar-new parts of him while he did the same to her. Jes’s fingers were lightning and magic on her body, a precious gift.
He knew how to keep her at a slow delicious burn and when to throw more kindling on the fire. He’d always had a quicker sexual trigger so she took care to keep him from the edge, to help him float in that space between anticipation and fulfilment.
Loving everything about what she was doing, she licked his chest, closed her teeth around his nubs, walked her fingers over his ribs. Curled around him and touched her tongue to the tip of his penis.
I’m here. We’re here, finding each other again. Maybe finding each other for the first time. Living in the present.
She repeatedly kissed his penis, careful to keep the contact brief. Brief and intimate. Satisfying and exciting her. Testing her sanity. His erection fit perfectly in her palm, a heavy, heady weight that sent her thoughts first spiraling off into nothing and then taking her to the wonder of their marriage bed.
I still love you.
He eased her onto her stomach then trailed his fingers up and down the backs of her thighs and buttocks. She dug her nails into the bottom sheet. Her head thrashed, and she made more animal sounds.
Lost great chunks of her sanity.
Silently thanked him for being.
After too long, he slipped his hand between her legs and stroked her drenched sex.
“Ready,” he muttered.
Answering in the only way she was capable of, she rolled onto her back and opened herself to him. Ready! Oh, yes, Jes, ready!
Crazy making!
When he moistened her hard nipples with his tongue in that knowing way of his, the primitive creature she’d become dug into his shoulders. Growled.
He positioned himself inside her legs, slid his hands under her buttocks, and lifted. She splayed her hands over where she’d scratched him.
He still loves me.
Jes claimed her slow, entering her a little at a time, withdrawing and then going deeper, spreading her inner tissues and turning two into one. She wrapped her legs around him and pressed her heels against his buttocks.