Just Jayne

by Ripley Proserpina

  I understood what he was saying. Maybe that was why he was looking at me, because he knew, somehow, that I would. Rivers knew who he was, and what he could change, and he couldn’t change into the person Rose Oliver wanted to be.

  Even though he loved her.

  Anyone with eyes could see he loved her.

  “I’m going to my room,” Rivers said. “I’ll see you this evening.” Shoulders slumped, he trekked across the living room and shut the door to his room behind him.

  “I don’t understand,” Charlotte said. “I probably never will. I’d do anything to have someone love me the way Rose loves him. I’d give up anything.”

  “There are some things a person can’t change,” I said. “And if they did, then they wouldn’t be the type of person someone would fall in love with.”

  “Have you ever had your heart broken?” she asked. “It sounds like you have.”

  I didn’t answer but sipped my tea. If I’d done what the guys had asked, forgotten everything and run away, pretending Bree didn’t exist, it would have changed me from the inside out. I’d have become someone I didn’t like. Someone who could put her own happiness above everything else.

  If I did that, I wouldn’t be the woman Klaus, Ten, Diego and Lee had fallen in love with.

  I wouldn’t be Jayne.

  47

  Jayne

  “Jayne.” Rivers shook me awake. I blinked bleary eyes at him. It had been almost a week since Rose had visited, and I hadn’t seen much of Rivers during that time. He changed his schedule, coming in after I’d gone to sleep rather than for tea like I’d become used to.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I want you to come with me today,” he said. “I have some patients—children—who could use company.”

  I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I won’t get them sick?”

  “You’ll wear a mask, but I thought you might like to try a small outing for a few hours.”

  I pushed back my blankets. The idea of having a task, something worthwhile, even if it was reading a book or talking to a child, sounded wonderful.

  “Give me a minute,” I said, and rushed into the bathroom to do what I needed to do to get ready. When I emerged, Rivers was waiting for me at the door. He handed me a coat, and I slid it on before we left.

  “There’s a bus,” he said, “to the hospital. We can take it, or we can walk. It’s very close.”

  “Let’s walk,” I replied. I wanted to see if I could do it.

  Rivers walked next to me. In the early morning hours, the streets were quiet. Every so often a car, taxi, or bus went by. But for the most part, we were alone.

  “Charlie is four,” he said. “His mother and father have to work, so he’s often at the hospital with only the nurses for company.”

  “Four,” I said. “That’s young to be left alone.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “He’s been sick for a long time, and I know his mother would like to spend all her time with him, but they have other children. And they need to work.”

  I couldn’t imagine being in that position. Having to choose between providing for your family or comforting your child?

  “What sorts of things does he like to do?” I asked.

  “See?” he said, and stopped. “I knew this was a good idea. Most people would ask me what’s wrong with him. What is he sick with? But not you. You want to know his interests, you ask about who he is as a person, not as a constellation of symptoms.”

  It felt like I’d passed a test I hadn’t known I was taking. “I used to be a teacher,” I said.

  “Used to be?”

  I shrugged, though he couldn’t see it. “I still am, I guess. Though it feels very far away.” So much time had passed between when I’d taught Sophie and now. It was like another lifetime.

  The hospital loomed ahead, and Rivers didn’t ask me anything more. We went inside and I signed in as a volunteer. Then, decked out in scrubs and a face mask, I was led to Charlie’s room.

  The little boy, his bald head shining in the sunshine, greeted us with a smile. His door was open, and I noticed how there was a sign on it: Charlie White. Four years old. Loves Lego Bricks, cartoons, sword fights, pudding. Doesn’t like needles, yucky tasting medicine, sticky things.

  There were photos of the boy with his family and a small, fluffy dog.

  Oh God.

  But I pushed away all the sadness I felt for him and smiled. “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi.” He hid a little behind Rivers, watching me cautiously.

  “This is Jayne,” Rivers said. “She’s my friend and she’s going to keep you company.”

  “Okay.” He seemed unsure, but his doctor patted his leg reassuringly.

  In the corner of the room was a plastic bin of toys. “I see you have Legos,” I said. “Do you want to build something together?”

  His eyes lit up, and he nodded. Sitting tall, he pointed to the bin. “There’s a new set. With trucks.”

  I couldn’t help but notice his skinny wrists and the IV in the back of his hand.

  “You’ll keep out Jayne out of trouble?” Rivers asked.

  Charlie giggled and nodded. I pulled the adjustable bedside table over the little boy’s lap before getting the Lego set. Rivers side-hugged the boy and nodded at me and left.

  The next few hours I thought of nothing except Charlie. For a boy who was confined to bed, he was happy and content. Around lunchtime, he sank back into his pillows, and his thin face seemed even more drawn. “I don’t feel good,” he said.

  “Want me to get the nurse?” I asked. He had a few strands of blond hair left on his head and I smoothed them. While we’d played, I’d sat next to him on the bed. It hadn’t taken him long to start to lean into me, at one point climbing into my lap so I could read him a story.

  I settled into teaching without even realizing it. As we read Dr. Seuss, I left off words, letting him fill in the predictable rhyme. We’d made color patterns with blocks and tried to guess what weighed more, Legos or crayons.

  “Yes,” Charlie said.

  I went to the door and flagged down a nurse at the station. “He doesn’t feel well,” I said when she was close enough.

  The woman glanced at her watch. “His anti-nausea meds are wearing off. It’s time for another dose. He’ll probably fall asleep,” she said. “He usually wakes up again when his mum gets here in the afternoon.”

  I hadn’t seen Rivers in a while, but I was happy to stay with Charlie while he slept. Sitting in a nearby chair, I held his hand as the nurse added his medicine to the IV line.

  She was right. In minutes, he’d fallen asleep. Now that I wasn’t doing anything, I realized how tired I was.

  But what a wonderful distraction.

  I stared at Charlie’s peaceful, sleeping face. This was something I could do. I could keep him company and keep him happy.

  “Jayne?” Rivers’ whisper reached me across the room. He gestured from the doorway and I walked over. “Are you ready to go home?” he asked.

  “I thought I’d stay while he slept,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to the boy. “Or until his parents get here. I don’t want him to wake up alone. He doesn’t feel well.”

  Surprising me, Rivers took my hand and squeezed it. “I’m so glad. I knew you’d enjoy this.”

  “I do,” I said. I squeezed his hand back and then dropped it. “Thank you so much for bringing me.”

  “There are other children,” he said. “Some who have families who work, some who don’t have families at all. I was thinking, maybe you’d like to check in with them. You said you were a teacher…”

  I nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

  “I’ll organize it,” Rivers said. “But I’ll let you get back. See you in a few hours?”

  “Sure,” I replied.

  He turned and took a step down the hall before turning back. Reaching into the pocket of his coat, he searched for something. He withdrew a smal
l paperback book. “While you wait,” he said. “I know you’re not much of a TV watcher.”

  I glanced down at the book. It was pocket edition of useful Arabic phrases. “Thanks.”

  He smiled at me, touched my elbow, and left.

  “What did you do to make grump Dr. Cynjin smile?” Charlie’s nurse asked. “And can you share it with the rest of us?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I said.

  The woman shook her head, a wry smile on her face. “I don’t believe you.” But she walked away, and I went back to Charlie’s room.

  I leaned my forehead on my hand as I flipped through the pages of the book Rivers brought me. Without Charlie to entertain me, I started to get sleepy, so I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. Just for a second.

  I stood inside Bree’s room at Fairfax Manor. My feet were cold, and when I glanced down, I saw that my feet were bare.

  Grace was asleep, and somehow I knew I could sneak out of my room.

  A sense of excitement and anger filled my chest at the opportunity to be free. Even for a little while.

  In a flash, I found myself in my bedroom, staring down at a stranger in my bed. She was pretty, not like me. There was nothing plain about this girl.

  But what was she doing in my bed? I touched her shoulder and her eyes popped open. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I’m Jayne,” I said. “This is my room, what are you doing here?”

  “Jayne?” she asked. Her eyes were the same color as mine, hazel, but almond shaped and fringed with dark lashes. “This is my room.”

  “No.” I shook my head and glanced around. For the first time, I noticed the strange clothes in the wardrobe. And the photos on the bureau. Photos of this girl with Klaus, Lee, Diego, and Tennyson.

  I walked over and picked up a photo of all of them. The girl was clad in a wedding dress, and leaned against Ten’s arm while the other guys crowded around her, kissing her hair, holding her hand, or with an arm wrapped around her waist. “No,” I whispered. “They love me.”

  “What are you doing out?” Someone snatched the picture from my hands and I spun. The guys stood behind me, shielding the stranger from my gaze. Tennyson was the one who’d taken the photo from me. Glaring, he repeated his question. “What are you doing out?”

  “This is my room,” I stuttered, glancing at the other guys for help. All I met with was stoney-eyed stares. “Who is she?”

  “This is my wife, Jayne,” Ten said. “Our wife.”

  Klaus stepped forward and grabbed my arm. His grip was painful as he tugged me forward. “You can’t be in here.”

  “This is my room,” I said again. It was. That was my bed. That was my wardrobe. Those were the men I loved. What were they doing?

  Klaus dragged me out of the room, Ten and Lee close behind me. Diego moved forward, gripping the edge of the door while he held the strange girl at her side.

  “Diego?”

  “Come on.”

  I stumbled down the hall, up the stairs, and back into Bree’s room. Grace was awake, and she held a syringe. “No!” I cried. “I’m not crazy! Don’t!”

  The guys held me as Grace stuck me with the needle. Their faces blurred, but somehow I could still feel their hate. “I love you,” I said as the medicine dragged me under. “Tennyson. Don’t.”

  “Jayne!”

  I shot awake.

  Rivers held my shoulder, staring down at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Bad dream,” I replied, rubbing my eyes. Charlie was still asleep. “Sorry.”

  “Charlie’s mother is here, checking in with the nurses. We can go now.” He moved away, giving me room to stand and stretch.

  I picked up my coat from the back of the chair and put it on. “Okay.”

  He was already ready, and led me out of the hospital. We walked in silence for a little bit. The emotions caused by my dream stuck with me, and I felt off-balance and anxious.

  “Jayne,” Rivers said. “I know I’ve said this before, but you can trust me. If you needed help, I will help you.”

  “You are helping me,” I answered. “Today was the best day I’ve had since I arrived.”

  He sighed. “Not—not with a job.” He pushed his hair off his forehead. “With your life. Your safety.”

  “You’ve done that, too,” I replied. I turned to face him. “I don’t understand, Rivers. I feel like we’re having parallel conversations.”

  He stared off down the street for a moment and then reached into his pocket to withdraw two envelopes. The first was my credit card, thank God. But the second had a return address for Seattle, Washington. There were multiple addresses printed on the front: my New York address, care of my old employer, Fairfax Manor, care of the guys. And then here. How in the world had this gotten to me?

  I checked the name on the front. Jayne Burns.

  “Why did you lie about your name?” Rivers asked.

  The wind blew and I shivered.

  “Come on.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and hurried us home. By the time we got inside, my teeth were chattering.

  Once inside, he set about making tea while I sat at the table. I set the bank card aside but opened the other. To my surprise, it was already open.

  “Did you…?” I supposed I had no argument. I had lied to him about who I was.

  “I did,” he replied, sitting across from me. “I held onto the credit card until you were well enough to leave. I knew as soon as I gave it to you, you’d run to a hotel. My sisters are worried about you, and they have enough to worry about.”

  His motives were good, even if his actions sucked. “That wasn’t right, Rivers. You should have told me it arrived. I could have been helping with groceries, or rent, at least.”

  “I had another motive, Jayne,” he said, and dropped his gaze to the table. It was the first time he’d acted uncomfortable around me and I wondered why. “You’re a rich woman. That letter? It’s from a lawyer in America. You had an uncle who died and left you his quite substantial estate.”

  “How long have you had that?” I asked, a little bitterly.

  “Just yesterday,” he said. “It’s been around, you can see from the addresses. But I imagine once you reapplied for your credit card and gave this address, it made it possible to find you. The truth is, I was struggling to figure out how to tell you about it. But then I heard you cry out while you slept, and I realized, this may be something you desperately needed. Are you in danger?” he asked. “Hiding from someone?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not in danger, and I’m not hiding, but…” I wanted to assure him I wasn’t running from the mob or some gang. “I had my—you see, I was engaged and I—the person I thought I was marrying wasn’t—”

  The more I stumbled through an explanation, the wider his eyes became. Nodding, he reached for my hands. “We have so much in common, Jayne. It amazes me. I admire you so much, and as for giving me a false name, I understand. The man you were to marry wanted you to change who you are, or asked you to compromise on something that shouldn’t be compromised.”

  “Yes,” I got out. “In a way.”

  “It takes strength of character to do what is right, even when it is hard. Especially when it is hard. I want to propose something to you.”

  He was so earnest, I nodded.

  “Stay here, with us,” he said. “We’ll get your passport and I imagine you had a visa?”

  “I did,” I said. “But with a different job, I don’t know if I can use it.”

  “We’ll make it work. But you could work in the hospital. And then, we’ll figure out what’s next.”

  It was something to consider. Charlotte and Ann had become my friends, and Rivers, too, in a way. I’d enjoyed my time with Charlie so much, and I could be happy doing what I did today. “Okay.”

  He sat back, surprised. “Really?”

  “Yes,” I said, but glanced around. “Except, you have to let me help with rent and groceries. And
maybe we should think about renting a new flat. One with an extra room. Not that the sofa isn’t comfortable…”

  He chuckled. “I’d argue, but I’ve seen how much money your uncle left you. So it’s a deal?”

  For now. “Yes.” It would keep me busy. Hopefully, it would keep me so busy that I wouldn’t have time to think about anything.

  48

  Jayne

  Everything had been moving so slowly that once I decided to stay, I was shocked at the pace things happened.

  I had my replacement passport, but no visa. My work visa was specific to my job with Sophie, so while I waited for a new one, I volunteered my time at the hospital.

  We moved into a nicer home nearby. I was working on a way to buy it without the Cynjins finding out. I wouldn’t stay here forever, and it would be nice if I could leave them with something to show them how grateful I was for the kindness they showed me.

  I called the lawyer in Seattle and was sad to learn that I had almost gotten to meet my uncle. Apparently, he’d come to believe my aunt had lied to him, and he’d tracked me down. His lawyer had called Fairfax Manor to tell me of my uncle’s illness, but I was in California at the time. I assumed, after everything that happened so quickly, Mrs. Foster just forgot.

  So, I was a rich woman now. Set for life, really, and if I had wanted to, I never had to work again.

  I would, though. The children were the best distraction I could have. They gave me purpose and a reason to wake up. Maybe that sounded dramatic.

  The problem was, as soon as it was quiet, I thought about the guys. And it wasn’t long before thinking about the guys overwhelmed me and made me sink into blackness. I tried to hide it, but every so often, I’d catch Rivers watching me, or Ann and Charlotte whispering.