Just Jayne

by Ripley Proserpina

  They nodded, but Klaus was glaring. With a huge sigh, Warner ran his hand over the top of his shaved head and gestured toward the plane. “Then we might as well go.”

  Klaus and Lee started up the stairs with Ten and Diego following. I was about to put my foot on the step when Warner touched my arm. I turned to face him and saw he was watching the guys. When Diego reached the top step, he spoke. “I think we should start over, Jayne. If you’re with them, it’s important we get along.”

  I didn’t know if we’d ever get along, because there wasn’t much this man could do to hide his dislike of me. But I wasn’t going to do anything to make our relationship any worse. And I could give him another chance, if that was what he was asking for. “Okay,” I said. “For them.”

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile just as Diego turned at the top of the stairs and narrowed his eyes. “Jayne.” He held out his hands all while staring at Warner.

  Without another word, I hurried up the steps and into the cabin. Minutes later, we took off. I held Diego’s hand, and he turned our hands over and began tracing the lines on my palm.

  “You know,” he said. “I really can read your palm.”

  “Really?” I asked, spreading my fingers wide. He reached over our head and flicked on the light before bringing my hand closer to his face.

  He used his finger to trace a line that ran horizontally. “This is your heart line. It represents your emotional side.” A line split it, running down my hand, and he touched it. “And this is your head line. Your cold, calculated side.”

  “Why does my head have to be cold and calculated?” I asked. “Maybe my head is my reason and lets me take chances with my heart.”

  He bent his dark head, touching his lips to the center. “Maybe,” he whispered, and I shivered at the feel of his breath on my hand.

  “What do the little lines in it mean?” I asked. “The ones that crisscross it like a chain?”

  A muscle jumped in Diego’s jaw, like he was clenching his teeth, and I nudged him with my shoulder. “Come on, you started this.”

  “It’s just silliness. No one really believes a palm can tell the future,” he said. I turned my hand and cupped his cheek, smoothing my thumb over his cheekbones and the smattering of barely noticeable freckles there.

  “Diego,” I whispered, and he sighed.

  “The chain shows trauma, and it can mean sadness.”

  I took my hand from him and studied it. “Where does it start?” I asked and wiggled my index finger and then pinky. “Here or here.”

  “Here.” He pinched my index finger and wiggled it. “When it starts here, it means you’re picky.”

  I lifted one shoulder. “I am pretty picky.”

  Diego’s face was in profile, so I caught the quick upturn of his mouth. “Yeah?”

  “Very,” I replied and dipped my head to quickly kiss him. It was the first time I’d initiated a kiss, and he sucked in a breath.

  His hand was warm as it slid around my neck, holding me in place while I nibbled at his mouth. I drew back to look into his eyes, but his were closed. It was a moment before he opened them to stare at me.

  “I want to be alone with you,” I said, and his eyes widened.

  “I was hoping for that,” he replied.

  “We’ll make it happen,” I said, but the pilot came over the intercom and told us we were beginning our descent. “That was fast.”

  “It’s just a little up and down,” Diego whispered. “An hour compared to six. That’s why we fly.”

  An additional six hours would have been nice, but then again, I’d never be ready to see my aunt.

  The plane landed, and we were on our way, the bright lights of LA turning the night to day. I’d forgotten about the tangle of interstate and freeways that made up southern California. Lines of headlights. Billboards. That was the backdrop to this world. Even when driving through the million dollar plus neighborhoods, I still thought about how just a little ways away was a maze of concrete.

  I wondered why it didn’t bother people to be surrounded by so much ugliness. I could barely get a feel for the land here, covered by so many people and high rises.

  Everyone was quiet the closer we got. It struck me that I didn’t have to tell anyone where she lived, but I was too busy lost in my past to do more than have the thought.

  My stomach tightened as we coasted into the driveway. We were here. The driver pulled the car to a stop in front of the huge glass doors and waited.

  The guys seemed to be waiting for me, so I flashed them what I hoped was a believable smile and opened the door. The last time I’d seen this house, I’d been dragged behind Dr. Moore and thrown in the backseat of his Audi before he drove me to Gatesdale.

  My gaze automatically went to the floor to ceiling windows as I walked. I could almost see Gregory’s face in the window, leering at me as I screamed.

  I knocked on the door, and I was surprised when Georgie opened it. “Yeah?” she asked. She squinted at me and suddenly drew back. “Jayne?”

  “Hi, Georgie,” I said.

  She looked over my shoulder, and her eyes widened. “Holy…” Her hair, blonde and straight like her mother’s, was perfect and fell in lovely waves over her shoulder. Georgie and I were about the same age, but there was something to her that made her seem older. My initial impression was that she was just more sophisticated than I was, but it was something else. A hardness, and while her word denoted surprise, her face certainly didn’t. Her forehead didn’t move. “Are they with you?”

  “Yes,” Klaus answered for me.

  “Is she awake?” I asked. “Did you tell her I was coming?”

  Georgie opened the door wider and indicated we should come inside. We did and I shivered. It looked the same. Still white. Still marble. And when my cousin spoke, her voice echoed. “Any time she’s awake, she’s asking for you.”

  “Who is it, Georgie?”

  A figure came out of the kitchen, and I lifted a hand to wave. My aunt had two daughters. Georgie was the youngest, and Cierra was the oldest. The last time I’d seen her, she was wearing a velour suit that had Juicy written across the ass.

  She looked totally different now. Her hair was short, and she wasn’t wearing makeup or anything that looked designer. “Jayne?” She held out her hand. “Good to see you.” Then she narrowed her eyes at her sister. “I thought you were with Mom.”

  “Someone had to get the door, Cierra. And you were too busy steaming your vagina or something.”

  And there were the girls I remembered.

  Immediately, their conversation devolved into a back and forth of blame. Like I had when I was a girl, I stood back and waited until they were done. I wouldn’t get anywhere reminding them I was waiting. This would take as long as it took.

  From the look on the guys’ faces, they were equal parts shocked and annoyed. Finally, the sisters ran out of insults and noticed me. “Come on,” Cierra said. “I’ll bring you up.”

  “Okay. Do you guys want to come?” I asked.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Georgie said. “Why don’t they stay downstairs with me?”

  “We’ll come with you,” Ten said and took my hand. Georgie’s eyes bugged out of her head. Well, they almost did. I had a feeling she wasn’t quite able to express her emotions with her frozen forehead, but I knew shock when I saw it.

  Cierra led us up the winding staircase and down the hallway to my aunt’s room. At the end of the first hall was the closet where she used to throw me, and I shivered as we passed by. It was different seeing the places that had held so much terror for me as child.

  Now I could see how small the closet was, and how close it was to the rest of the house. If someone yelled from here, it would have been impossible to ignore them, and yet that was what the entire household had done.

  Cierra knocked on the door and opened it. From my place behind her, I could see my aunt’s room was nearly empty except for a hospital bed and a bedside table. />
  In a flash I saw it as it used to be. Gauzy curtains blowing in the air conditioned breeze. Her walls were lined with mirrors, and in the old days, they’d reflected orchids and lounges.

  The mirrors were still on the wall, but now they reflected only the bed and the dying woman infinity times. I caught a flash of my own pale face and swallowed the nausea being here caused.

  “Jayne?” My aunt’s voice had changed. It was deeper and cracked when she said my name.

  “I’m here Aunt Augusta,” I said.

  “Come in here, I can’t see you when you lurk.” The form on the bed shifted and in a mirror, her face was reflected until she turned over. “You always lurk.”

  “I’ll wait for your downstairs,” Cierra said and left.

  The guys came inside with me, and I glanced back at them. “We’ll be right here,” Lee said.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Klaus added, to which Ten nodded.

  “You’re not alone,” Diego said.

  Right. They stood like sentinels as I approached the bed. The woman propped on the pillows was a far cry from the one in my memory. This one was nipped and tucked so tightly her skin was drawn against her skull. In fact, she looked like a skeleton. One that was barely hanging onto life.

  She licked her chapped lips and stared at me. If I thought she would have softened in her old age, I was wrong. Hate filled her eyes, and her lips seemed to tremble as she searched for words.

  I reached for her hand. “You wanted to see me, Aunt Augusta.”

  She curled her fingers so her hand was in a fist and I couldn’t hold it. It was a small gesture, but it hurt. Linking my fingers together, I stared down at her and waited.

  “I don’t know why, Jayne, but you were born to ruin my life.”

  Someone took a step toward me. I was tempted to look in the mirror to see which of the guys approached, but I didn’t. I could do this. Hoping they’d understand, I shook my head. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “Don’t condescend to me, Jayne,” she said and started to cough. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me? Even as a little girl, you’d look right through me. So much hate. So much evil.”

  “I was just a lonely little girl, Aunt Augusta,” I countered. If I’d looked at her with anything, it had been fear.

  “You were a horrible child. Lying. Selfish. The day you left was the best day of my life.”

  It was one thing to think something and another to hear it. And as far as I’d come, I didn’t want to be hated. I didn’t want the person who was tasked with loving me to tell me I was unlovable.

  “What did you want?” I asked. “If you hate me so much, why ask to see me?” There was a chair next to the bed, and I pulled it closer.

  My aunt laughed, and it turned into a cough. Each breath she took sounded harsh and wet, like her lungs were filled with liquid. It took her a moment to speak again. “In a hurry, are you? Need me to die so you can go on with your life?”

  I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, and I glanced over. The guys had come closer. They gazed at me, sympathy and pain written all over their faces. Here were people who cared about me. Maybe they didn’t love me, but they hurt for me. That meant something. Turning back to my aunt, I said, “You don’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here. So say what you need to say and I’ll go.”

  She pointed to her bedside table. “In that drawer.”

  I went to it and opened it. Inside was a certified letter, brittle and yellowed with age. “What is this?” I asked.

  I didn’t recognize the return address, a law firm in Washington.

  “Open it.”

  I took out the letter and read the date. It was from more than ten years prior, and it was from a lawyer who was writing on Matthew Burns’ behalf. Matthew was my father’s brother, and he was asking to see me. He and his brother were estranged, and he’d just learned about me. “I don’t understand,” I said. “I never got this.” She could have sent it to me. This was after Gatesdale, so I would have gotten it. Dr. Moore would have burned anything sent to me or sold it. Going from the date on the letter, I was in high school when this was sent, and the administrator there was flighty, but honest.

  “I called him. Told him you’d died at Gatesdale. He didn’t ask for proof, and I didn’t offer it. I never heard from him again.”

  Her admission hurt me more than her hate had. Here was someone, an uncle, who wanted to know me. He’d searched for me and tried to get in touch with me. And my aunt… she didn’t want me, so why had she kept me from him. “Why?” I asked.

  “Your mother and father ruined my life. I don’t know why my husband loved you. You were sickly and cried all the time. And I swear, he loved you more than his own children. And here was another person, searching for you. You didn’t deserve it, Jayne. I should have thrown the letter away, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but just like everything else having to do with you, it poisoned me.”

  Her own actions had poisoned her life. She was a horrible woman, and this just proved it. Not only was she cruel to me, but she’d lied to people about me. Because of her, I spent the first eight years of my life beaten and tortured, and the next six years in hell, and nearly died because of her neglect.

  What did she want from me? Forgiveness? To clear her conscience? She coughed again, and this time it took a while for her to breathe. She pointed to an oxygen tank, and I adjusted the cannulas over her head and under her nose before turning it on.

  For the entire airing of her past, my aunt hadn’t noticed the guys, but now she did. She stared at them and then back at me before breaking into a hacking cough. She might have been embarrassed, but I doubted it.

  I held my uncle’s letter in my hand and stood. “If you want my forgiveness, you have it,” I said. “Goodbye, Aunt Augusta.”

  “Just like that,” she whispered. “Goodbye, Jayne.

  Klaus steered me out of the room and down the stairs.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” Georgie met us at the bottom. In the time we’d been gone, she’d changed her outfit and added another layer of makeup. “It’s been so long.”

  “We are,” Lee said.

  “Bye, Georgie,” I said. “You have my number if you need me.”

  Ten opened the door, and Klaus hustled me through. I got in the car, not really seeing anything because I kept replaying my aunt’s words in my head.

  I stared out the window at all the beautiful mansions and wondered if they held the same hate and secrets that my aunt’s did.

  “You never have to go back.”

  I turned away from the window.

  Lee was facing me, his knee drawn up on the seat. “That part of your life is over.”

  Nodding, I turned to the window again. It was over, but hearing how much she hated me, after all this time, made all of the hurt fresh. “How long were we in there?” I asked.

  “Fifteen, twenty minutes,” he said.

  Huh. So all it took was fifteen minutes to turn me back into a broken-hearted little girl. Funny. I thought I’d moved beyond this.

  “Jayne?” Ten, who was usually so full of confidence, seemed nervous. I blinked, trying to get myself together.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Did you say something?”

  “We’re here.” He pointed out the window at a house.

  “Is this your house?” I asked.

  “For now,” he answered, drawing his eyebrows together. “Are you okay?”

  “Off balance,” I admitted. “And probably jet-lagged.” I reached past Lee to take his hand. “I’ll be okay.”

  27

  Tennyson

  The ride from her aunt’s house was silent. I think all of us were in our heads at that point, but I was plotting. I wanted the old woman to suffer for what she’d put Jayne through.

  And I wanted her to suffer for the poison she’d spewed today.

  It hurt to see Jayne fold in on herself and get lost.

  Diego helped her out
of the car and inside, but I hung back, indicating for Klaus and Lee to stay with me for a moment. We waited until the door shut behind them and then I spoke, “I had no fucking idea.”

  “I thought I did,” Lee answered. “Reading the descriptions of that school and the articles written about it. I wondered who could send their child there. Now I know.”

  “I’m glad she’s dying,” Klaus said. “I hope it takes a long time.” He crossed his arms and glared at the ground. “I hope she suffers.”

  “I don’t know what she needs,” I said. It wasn’t something I typically did: figure out what people needed and then give it to them. I was used to my needs being anticipated, but this time, I really, really wanted to help Jayne. There was one way to figure that out. I had to ask her, and for that… “I need time with her.”

  “Right now?” Lee crossed his arms. “You want us to just leave her like this?”

  “I know,” I said. “If you asked the same thing of me, I don’t know if I could do it. But you’re stronger than me, so I’m asking it. Can you give me the night with her?”

  Lee looked at Klaus, who linked his hands behind his head. My friend paced the length of the driveway, kicking stones into the yard hard enough they ricocheted off the fence.

  “Yeah,” Klaus said. “I can do that. I don’t fucking like it, but…”

  “Just the night,” I said. Anticipation filled my veins as I thought about having the opportunity to put her first and show her what I was capable of. I’d meet all her needs. Anything she wanted, I’d give her.

  28

  Jayne

  Diego showed me to a room that overlooked the ocean and pointed out a bag on the bed. “If you need anything—” His phone chimed, and he glanced at it and frowned. “I’ll be right back,” he said. He put the phone in his back pocket before taking my hands. “Are you okay for a minute alone?”

  Maybe? “I think so,” I answered.

  He frowned and glanced toward the door. His phone chimed again, and he swore quietly under his breath. “Just for a minute,” he said, and rushed out of the room. I heard his feet pound down the stairs, and then I was alone.