by C. B. Stagg
“Jillian, sweetie, I need a new roll of aluminum foil. Could you run and grab it from the pantry?” Surely Mrs. Lowe was throwing me a bone, trying to give me a break from the tension that was currently a monster with three heads.
“Sure.” I smiled, but my heart wasn’t in it. At the sound of my voice, Bennett looked my way, meeting my eyes. Time froze. And without uttering a word, I told him I was sorry with every fiber of my being. He told me he was sorry, too.
The aluminum foil was on the top shelf. It always had been. And I was five foot four on a good day, so even with the aid of the stainless steel step stool that hung neatly on the inside of the pantry door, there was no way I was getting that roll of tinfoil on my own.
“Bennett, be a dear and go help her. I forgot how high up it is.” I heard her request from where I stood, trying to decide whether or not to climb the shelf when Bennett shuffled in. The pantry was just that—a pantry. Add two people to the collection of supplies it took to run the cafe, and it became a sardine can. But even knowing this, I didn’t move to allow him room when Bennett cleared his throat. I just stood right in his path and looked at him with a wide stance, a set jaw, and loads of fake confidence. I was trying to say, If you want me to move, you’ll have to do it yourself.
It didn’t work. The man was like a mouse, contorting around me, able to fit into a space no bigger than a coffin. It was impressive.
“How’s the leg?”
“Same as it was yesterday. Fine.” He stood on his toes and stretched his arm high, causing his deep green thermal to rise up, showing the well-toned muscles in his back. “You’re in my way.”
“Bennett, why won’t you talk to me?” Stand your ground, Jill, stand your ground.
“I’m talking to you now.” His air of disinterest caused physical pain in my chest and I wanted to bang my head into the metal shelves that surrounded us. Men were impossible. I threw my arms up. Or, I tried to, but in the process, I hit the back of my left hand on an industrial-sized can of green beans, so I dropped them to my side in defeat. Bennett, by that point, had stopped trying to get the foil, probably figuring out that the task was just a ploy by the Lowes to force us together. It had to be uncomfortable for them, being right smack in the middle of our unspoken emotional crossfire.
“Fine. I’ll talk. Since when do you have a boyfriend? And since when is said boyfriend the governor’s son? How did I spend the entire last month with you—working together, sharing meals, sharing my life with you—without this coming up, Jillian?”
“Jill. Please.”
“What?” His patience was growing thin. He wanted answers.
“Please don’t call me Jillian anymore. Just Jill from now on, okay?” He nodded. “I’m sorry I never told you, it just never came up and… when I was with you, it was like he didn’t exist.”
He chuckled, but not the funny, haha kind. No, it was more like the, quit feeding me this line of bull, spoiled rich girl who wants to have her cake and eat it too kind. I was familiar with both.
“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter at this point anyway.” He checked the time on his simple watch—black with a rubber band, few dials, and even fewer features—probably purchased at Walmart for fifteen bucks. Because that’s who he was. Bennett led a simple, uncomplicated life, while the place I came from was demanding and convoluted. And how I felt about him or how he didn’t feel about me was of no matter. “Y’all should get on the road. And board your plane. To Austin. To the governor’s mansion, is it?”
And that was the root of it all, wasn’t it?
At the end of the day, we were of two different worlds and the walls separating us were too great to scale. For Bennett’s sake, of that I was glad. He was out of my league. He was pure and good and drew his happiness from the happiness of others. He was hardworking, bighearted, and gave everything in life all he had. One day, he’d meet a girl and love her the same way. And in that moment, looking into his eyes, I knew without a shred of doubt that I’d give up my whole world, everything I’d ever known, to be the woman on the receiving end of his love. That was the truest truth in all of this.
I reached out and placed my hand on Bennett’s jaw, feeling the golden scruff of his beard against my skin. And for a few beats of my heart, he leaned in and closed his eyes. But love has consequences. Millions of them. And we both knew that.
We both heard Gareth’s voice at the same time. He stiffened, and I yanked my hand away from the sweetest touch I’d ever known, feeling the loss like a death. Bennett backed out of the pantry and swept by as Gareth moved into the hallway.
“We’ve been here long enough, Jillian. Get your things and let’s go.” Another command, the only way he knew to communicate. I caught Bennett’s eyes over Gareth’s shoulder. Say something, I willed to him. Say anything to keep me with you. Don’t let me go. Don’t let me walk away.
But it was all for nothing. Bennett jerked his head toward the door and with a sad smile, mouthed, Go! That was it. The decision was made. He didn’t want me and he was telling me to go back to my life, to my comfort zone with my Prince Charming. The place where I really was the princess he accused me of being all those months ago, when my world still revolved around me, and not him.
Gareth grabbed my hand. I didn’t resist and within twenty minutes, I would be on the governor’s plane, Austin bound, to face a perfectly orchestrated life I no longer wanted any part of.
We left my car in the covered parking lot and raced on to the tarmac, to the awaiting plane. From the corner of my eye, I saw people gawking at us, probably wondering who would be boarding a private jet in a small, country town on Thanksgiving. Gareth saw them too and pageant waved to his adoring fans. They probably had no idea who he was. No one on the planet thought Gareth Johnson was more important than Gareth Johnson.
“Mr. Johnson, your father—” Gareth held his hand out flat just inches from the pilot’s face to halt his statement. I’d have given my eyeteeth to see the older man sucker punch him right in the jaw. He deserved it. Arrogant asshole.
“Davis, I am well-aware of the time and I’m sure my father will hold nothing back in letting me know his feelings on my sudden disappearance, but right now, I need you to get us in the air.” Without waiting for a response, Gareth walked past the man, clanking up the steel stairs rolled out for just such an occasion, dragging me behind him.
I hated flying. Hate wasn’t even a strong enough word, so when Gareth started in on me the minute the door was closed and secured, I closed my eyes and turned my head.
“Stop being a child, Jillian.” His words were dipped in hate and disgust. He was baiting me. A woman I hadn’t noticed before gasped and I opened my eyes just in time to see her cast her wide eyes to Gareth. Her pointy little chin was trembling and she swallowed over and over again, her mouth opening in between, like she had something to say but kept forgetting. Gareth cleared his throat.
“Uhh, Jillian, this is Mallory.” He swiveled in his chair to face her and with a much softer tone, said “Mallory, this is Jillian. My, um… she’s… ”
“The Walker girl. Yes, I know who she is, Mister Johnson.” Cutting his eyes back to me, I raised my eyebrows, questioning him on her sudden onset of hostility. “May I get you a drink, Miss Walker?” Apparently, her anger extended to me as well.
“No thank you, Mallory. If you could just leave us, please.” She lowered her head, shrinking a good three inches, then spun on the toes of her four-inch stilettos. She disappeared back into the cockpit, calling behind her that we’d be taking off shortly.
“Jesus, Jillian, did you ever think I may have needed a drink?” He ran his hand through his hair, which had been neatly combed to the side. He had the hairstyle of a five-year-old boy on Sundays. I just laughed.
“Oh, I’m surprised good ole Mallory didn’t quench your thirst on the flight in.” He shook his head, but his silence and the color rising from his neck to his cheeks spoke volumes. I heard the engines come to life as our speed picked up
. This was the worst part. I’d rather have a root canal than fly anywhere. Unless it was Scotland. I think I could manage that flight, knowing what was on the other side. I pinched my eyes shut and pictured the moors of Scotland, all patches of heather and peat moss. I’d been obsessed since I was small. It was my happy place, so I let imaginary bagpipe tunes drown out the confuzzled thoughts pinging around in my brain.
“I’ll be right back,” Gareth announced as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stood. Takeoff was uneventful and the pilot assured us it would be a smooth flight. I opened my eyes, assuming he was headed for the lavatory, but he turned the other direction.
“Really, Gareth? It’s bad enough you’re screwing the help, but do you have to do it when I’m right here?” I was shaking my head. He sat back down, looking like a dog caught digging up its owner’s prize-winning petunias.
“Why do you even care? I certainly can’t get it from you?” Well, we were finally going to do this. Okay.
“You did once. After plying me with Southern Comfort and Sprite. After I was so drunk I didn’t know my own name. You remember that, don’t you?” I was practically yelling and he was smoldering, his breaths deep and audible. I took it down a notch or ten and added, “You raped me that night, Gareth. You couldn’t get what you wanted, so you just took it.” I tucked my chin to my chest to gather some composure.
“It’s not like I wouldn’t have gotten it eventually. It was mine to take.” There was no remorse in his voice, no compassion, no guilt. And the sad thing was, he probably believed the shit he was spewing. Because it was his, wasn’t it? My father had promised him a virgin and that’s exactly what he got.
“Why screw me when you were getting plenty from Lori and whoever else? You couldn’t have waited a little longer?” The tears that had been stinging the backs of my eyes vanished, replaced with a new awareness. This man was my betrothed. He was the one whom I was supposed to promise to love and cherish and obey in a few short years. This was my future, wasn’t it?
“Lori and I were just messin—”
“Is this what my life will be like with you? Am I expected to marry an off-brand Kennedy, just to be an off-brand Jackie O? You really think I’m just going to stand there and look pretty, while you sleep your way across Texas and then Washington DC?” His Adam's apple bobbed, but he didn’t answer right away.
“Mr. Johnson, Ms. Walker,” a deep voice said over the intercom. “We will be landing in Austin in roughly ten minutes. Please remain seated and buckle up if you aren’t already.”
“Jillian,” he started. “You grew up with your parents. What was their marriage like?” They were roommates at best, married in name only. “Once we’re married, I honestly couldn’t care less what you do, as long as you’re discreet. And the sooner you pop out a kid or two, the better.”
“Pop out a kid or two? Are you kidding me? Do you even listen when I talk? The steering wheel of my car punctured my uterus. It’s highly unlikely I’ll ever have children.” I choked on that last part. It was the first time I’d said it aloud.
“Good. Then I won’t have to worry about you bringing some bastard home from your dalliances.” His toxic words stole the breath from my lungs and I had to take a minute to recuperate.
“And what dalliances would those be exactly?” This jerk is unbelievable.
“Like the one you’re having with that blue-collar trash pretending to be your knight in shining armor this morning.” Oh my God, he is talking about Bennett.
My breath caught in my throat as the wheels touched down on the runway. It seemed like only seconds went by and we were coming to a complete stop and men in navy blue work coveralls and orange vests were pushing a rolling stairway to the door of the plane. Gareth retrieved his attaché case from the overhead compartment and stood by the door, staring at it, as if he could make it open with the power of his mind. I may have chuckled a little as I fetched my own bag from the same overhead bin, thinking, Bennett would have gotten my bag down first, and maybe even carried it for me.
The second the doors opened, Gareth flew down the stairs to the awaiting town car that would, no doubt, take us both to the governor’s mansion. I, however, took my time. “Goodbye, Miss Walker,” Mallory chirped, regaining her cheerful composure. “I hope you had a nice flight.”
I smiled, then straightened my expression and looked her straight in the eyes. “My flight was delightful, thanks so much. But I recommend you get an appointment with your lady doctor as soon as possible. Mister Johnson is coming off a bad case of the clap and he’s also known to have crabs.” I smiled again, and waggled my fingers at the now teary girl. “Toodle-oo. And have a happy Thanksgiving.” Next thing I knew, we were flying down the highway, headed toward the heart of Austin, and with a police escort to boot.
Chapter 19
Bennett
I WAS FALLING for her. I’m not even sure how it happened or when it started, but I was definitely falling for her. I knew it the minute my lips touched hers and the stormy chaos in my mind stilled. She was my answer, she was my cure. And now she would be my undoing.
I dialed. It was late, but it needed to be done.
“Hello?” His voice was soft, gravelly even. Surely he hadn’t been sleeping.
“Doc? Did I wake you?” His low, rumbly chuckle brought a little spark back to the darkness inside me.
“Naw, Rosie fell asleep on my arm while we were watching reruns of M*A*S*H and I just hate to move, you know?”
I wish I knew. We chatted a few minutes, about everything and nothing, but when the silence became earsplitting, he asked.
“And the girl? Rosie will kill me if I don’t ask.” I pulled a few deep breaths.
“How did you know, Doc? When you met Rosie, how did you know?” I realized this was something I’d have asked Chance, if he were still alive.
He laughed again. “Well, I dunno if I should admit this, but when I met her, a George Jones song popped into my head. She was smooth as whiskey, sweet as wine, and warm as brandy. How could a man ask for more?”
Well, Jillian was all that and more. I told Doc everything. How we met, the tire, the volunteer work, the bet, the dinner, the kiss, and the boyfriend. “It was a pipe dream anyway. How could I expect her to love me? I’m broken. I’m not complete. That damn desert took so much from me, sometimes I wish… ”
“Ben, let me tell you something. The moon is only full and complete a few times a month, but there’ve been countless songs written about it. You are not broken, you’re normal—it’s just your new normal.”
For not being my father, or anyone’s father, really, he sure was good at it. He always gave me so much to think about. “Well, do you at least have everything you need?” I laughed. No, because everything I need hopped on a plane bound for Austin a few hours ago.
“I’m good. Go take care of Rosie and I’ll call you next week.” Setting the phone back in the cradle, I closed my eyes and tried to picture Jillian and me as an Us, but the only image I could visualize was a hunk of cement, dirty and jagged and chipped, sitting next to a sparkling diamond—colorless, flawless, priceless.
I declined the Lowe’s offer to spend the rest of the evening at their place. I wouldn’t have been good company, so I had just showered, called Doc, and crashed. I’d never begged for sleep like I did the night she left, but I did just that. My journal sat on the little built-in counter I used as a desk untouched, its pages empty. It was the perfect description of me.
There, but not. Alive, but not living.
I prayed I would fall asleep before I fell to pieces. But sleep never came, thanks to the tsunami of thoughts flooding my brain.
The simple fact was, I was in love with her.
And it had nothing to do with sex. She wasn’t just a woman to sleep with. She was a woman to wake up to for the rest of your life. What an honor that would be. It sickened me that it belonged to someone else.
When he cornered me in the dining room of the cafe on Thanksgiving morning, he w
as marking his territory. Jill was his and that was that. He called her ‘my friend,’ but he was wrong. Friends don’t look at each other the way she looked at me, like I was in control of her universe. Gareth Johnson told me he could offer her the world. But if love were stars, I could give her the galaxy.
But could I? Was I enough?
That roadside bomb in Iraq broke me. I completely fell apart, and no woman needs a broken man. In theory, I’d come home and just like Humpty Dumpty, I’d put myself back together again. I needed to get myself together, before I could love someone else. Only that was impossible. There were pieces missing. I’d left so much in the desert, I didn’t know how to rebuild the man I once was. But I knew I could never be enough for Jillian Walker.
I spent the rest of that restless night bouncing between worthy and worthless, but I woke up with a startling realization. I could stop loving her about as easily as I could stop my heart from beating. And I was a fighter, not a quitter. But I needed a plan. However far-fetched, I was going to fight for this. Battling for something unlikely to happen was better than giving up on everything I never knew I wanted.
With a renewed confidence, I walked to the corner store for a newspaper. But the face smiling at me from the front page was a clear indication I’d lost the war before the first shot had even been fired.
Chapter 20
Jill
“JILLIAN, DARLING. It’s so nice to see you.” My mother lightly pressed her cheek to mine, her definition of affection. In my ear she whispered, “Glad Gareth was able to talk some sense into you.” She reeked of Chanel No. 5 and my stomach rolled.