Did Jenelle have any idea of that? The way she’d run up to me in the parking lot had seemed rather… romantic. Did she think this was going to be flowers and candles? If there was going to be anything between us, it’d be sex. There’d be talking and flirting, sure, but that was where it’d end. I wasn’t looking for a life partner. I wasn’t even looking for a short-term fling.
I closed my eyes and braced myself as a shiver rocked through my body. Considering the heat of those kisses, whatever happened between us was going to be hot.
But whatever it would be, it’d have to wait. Once Mercy went back to her, then things between us could get started.
On Monday, Max pulled me aside before we saw any clients. His face was serious, his eyes filled with concern as he led me into the waiting room. “Did you have a chance to think through what happened with that client?”
“Yes.” I’d spent the entire weekend reflecting on it. “Again, I’m so sorry. I was unprofessional, and I know it. I’m going to respect appropriate boundaries from now on, I promise.”
He frowned at me. “I’m still going to remove you from her case. I’ll give it to another social worker.”
“You don’t have to do that.” My heart jumped. It’d seemed like Jenelle only wanted to see me at work for now, so if I wasn’t assigned to her case, I might not see her at all. The idea shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did. “I already know her and her daughter. We have a good rapport. If you reassign them, they’ll be starting from scratch. They need my help. Really.”
His jaw tightened. “This wasn’t what I had in mind when I challenged you to help Jenelle.”
“I know, but it will only be in a professional way. I swear.” At least, it’d stay professional until they were out of our care. “I’m trying to do the right thing, here.”
“Well… okay. Since no one knows about this but you and me, I’m going to go against my better judgment.” His eyes narrowed at me. “But if this becomes anything it shouldn’t be, so help me, Sylvia…”
“It won’t.” I held up a hand in salute. “Scout’s honor. I won’t sleep with her, I won’t date her, I won’t even talk to her outside of work.”
“Okay. Remember, I’m letting this slide because I trust you. Jenelle is your client, not your friend, and certainly not anything more than that.”
“I know.” He could’ve written me up if he wanted to. I definitely needed to stick to my word and not contact Jenelle outside of work. “And I brought my lunch today. You don’t need to buy anything for me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I wasn’t planning to.”
I slunk back to my desk, where I looked at the case notes from Friday afternoon’s visits. For the rest of the morning, I was on edge, keenly conscious of Max observing me. I met with a young man whose girlfriend had overdosed, who wasn’t quite ready to be the sole guardian of his infant daughter. In the afternoon I had an in-home visit with two grandparents who were acting as foster parents to their grandchild.
I went about my activities almost on autopilot. Some part of my brain was always humming in the background, thinking and worrying about me and Jenelle.
By the time Tuesday afternoon rolled around, I’d worked myself into an anxious mess. What was I going to do when I saw Jenelle? What was I going to say? Things would be so weird now that we’d kissed. And what if she thought I was in love with her or something? Did I need to pull her aside and clarify that?
Max sat with me in the waiting room in the minutes before she was supposed to arrive. He was silent, and I understood what he was doing – providing a subtle barrier between me and her. He was taking the time away from his own work, but he had a good reason. It would reflect badly on him if anything were to go amiss.
At a quarter to the hour, Jenelle hadn’t arrived. The minutes slowly ticked by, and I tried not to glance at my watch. I wasn’t going to give Max any hint of my nervousness. He didn’t need to know she was usually here early.
The door swung open and I jumped up – then saw it was Mercy. Her foster parents took seats while I brought the little girl into the playroom.
“Mommy’s not here yet?” she asked.
“No, sweetie. She’s coming.”
Jenelle showed up less than two minutes later, making no excuses for her lateness. I sucked in stabilizing breaths as I watched her greet her daughter. Her hair was up in a puff, highlighting her cheekbones, and she wore a dark yellow top that looked gorgeous against her skin tone.
As She spun Mercy around and kissed her on the cheek, I tried not to think about how those arms had wrapped around me, how those lips had pressed against mine. Professional, Sylvia.
I hung at the edge of the room, taking notes while Jenelle did her thing. I tried to keep my tone as neutral and objective as possible, even though at this point I was firmly in favor of Mercy being returned to her.
Jenelle barely glanced at me during the visit, which shouldn’t have been a surprise. This was how she always used to act, borderline ignoring me. Was it an act, though? Or was it really how she felt? Was her mind in the same state of turbulence as mine? Or did she even see me at all?
She never called over to rope me into one of their games, and she dissuaded Mercy when she tried. My heart hurt when she did that, silently shaking her head at the little girl and guiding her attention back to her.
It shouldn’t have mattered. I was only trying to be professional, and whether or not I played games with them was not a relevant part of my job. The only interactions I technically needed to have with Jenelle were the ones when I was following up about the case plan. As long as we could be civil during those conversations, I’d be fine.
So why didn’t I feel fine?
There was nothing in particular for me to follow up about today, especially when I was so sick and confused over her behavior. When the two hours were up, I said goodbye with a little wave, hoping neither of them would be able to pick up my disquiet.
I headed back to my desk and started typing up the case notes. I had half an hour to go before I had to leave for the next visit.
Ten minutes into that time, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I knew who it was without even checking – and my intuition was correct. The screen said Jenelle when I carefully slid the phone into my lap.
I glanced around, making sure Max was nowhere to be seen. Then I opened the message. My heart thundered at the illicitness of what I was doing – and yet there was no question of not doing it.
Hey, she’d written. Sorry if that was weird. Figured we should be extra careful.
I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She didn’t hate me after all. Our kiss hadn’t changed anything. I figured as much. Let’s keep it that way for a while and slowly get back to normal.
I pressed send, then followed it with another message. And don’t text me. Too dangerous.
I deleted the entire message thread.
My throat was tight as I slipped the phone back into my purse. What was I doing? All this cloak-and-dagger stuff was still putting my livelihood at risk. And for what? A woman I only wanted to sleep with?
I had to be crazy. There was no other explanation.
Because I already knew, if Jenelle texted me again… I was going to respond to her.
Fourteen – Jenelle
My boss at the strip club seemed blissfully unaware of the detour I’d taken from my station the other night. The strippers, however, had noticed.
“Who was that girl in here with you?” Teva asked as we walked in at the start of our shift.
She was straight, and probably the biggest gossip the club had to offer. I knew whatever I said would be reported loudly to whoever happened to be in the strippers’ changing room.
“No one,” I said. “A friend.”
“I saw you take off with her,” she prompted. “Took you a few minutes to come back.”
“Mmm.” I walked behind the bar, hoping that’d get her to buzz off.
No such luck. She leaned on
the bar rail and kept pumping me for information. “She was very pretty. Is she your usual type?”
“Don’t worry about my type.”
“Well, I’m just curious. I don’t know what kind of girls you go for.”
“None. I don’t have time to date.” I picked up a clipboard and opened the fridge, blocking her from me with the glass door.
She spoke through it anyway. “All I know about your love life is that you weren’t into Ginger.”
“What?” I slammed the fridge door shut. “How do you know about that?” Ginger had told the others I’d rejected her?
Teva shrugged, smiling smugly. “Word gets around.”
God! I’d really thought she’d keep that between us. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing for her to tell other people? “We’re just friends.”
“If you say so. I’ve never seen her this upset about not getting what she wanted before. And trust me, she’s tried that move on everyone.”
I gaped at her. “She has?”
“Pretty much every girl who works here, straight or gay. It’s like a rite of passage.”
Well, I felt a little less special. “Anyway, there’s nothing more than that to my love life. You’re not missing anything.” Not that I’d tell her, anyway.
“Okay, Jenelle.” She walked off toward the changing room.
I took a deep breath, leaning on the bar to collect my thoughts. If Ginger tried making moves on everyone, why had she waited so long to do it to me?
As I set up the bar, my thoughts of Sylvia took over. She’d looked gorgeous in the small glimpses I’d allowed myself today. I’d tried so hard not to look at her, but it was impossible not to notice her presence – the shape of her as she walked by, the fruity scent she left lingering behind her. She’d been curt in the texts she sent, but that was understandable. I’d promised not to text her at all, and then I’d felt the need to.
That woman had really gotten under my skin. We’d barely kissed, and I was losing my shit over her. I barely knew her, for heaven’s sake. We’d had, what – one proper conversation? I didn’t know her hopes, her dreams. Her goals, her accomplishments, her entire life story. I couldn’t have said where in town she lived, or who with. If she had siblings or not. I didn’t know enough about her to like her – and yet how could I deny the fact that I did?
One thing I was pretty sure of was that, despite what she’d said, she had a really big heart. She clearly cared, even if she didn’t see it herself. Still, I couldn’t say if I’d want her to be my girlfriend. We were so different, and uptight snobs had never been my type. But there was something between us. If it was simple physical chemistry, well… we’d find out. That would be enough for me – at least, I thought it would.
I shook my head, bracing myself as the first customers began to trickle in. The wait to get Mercy back felt like it’d gotten so much longer.
Over the next few weeks, I did my best to be the ideal mom that CPS wanted me to be. I went to work and submitted job applications, even getting a few more interviews. I didn’t go out drinking or dancing. Other than work, my main activity was diligently attending my visits with Mercy.
And okay, there were a few text messages between me and Sylvia. But they were short and innocent, usually relating only to the visits with Mercy. We didn’t speak about our personal relationship. In person, we kept our distance from each other – although there were some long, lingering glances that sent shivers coasting down my spine.
I had to admit, I was liking her more and more. She knew how to keep her distance, but also how to maintain my interest. The little morsels of her that I got were enough to know she was delicious. They fueled my hunger for her without coming anywhere close to satisfying it.
In simple terms, I was into her. And the flirtation was a bright spot in my life when things seemed otherwise impenetrably dark – even if we were flirting as mildly as mild could be.
I was thinking about her one night, as usual, as I took a post-work shower. The water dripped down my body in a torrent of wet heat, making my skin prickle and my nipples harden. I ran my hands over my curves, vaguely wondering what it would feel like if they were Sylvia’s hands rather than my own. Would she touch me gently? Or after all this build-up, would she grab at me with desperate passion?
I stepped out of the shower, watching out for the creaky floorboard, and toweled myself off. I wished I could fast-forward to the day when I’d have Mercy back, the day when I could see where things went with Sylvia. If I was lucky, it’d be a matter of months. Right now, it felt like forever.
As I wrapped the towel around myself and pulled my shower cap off, my phone rang from the other room. The catchy ringtone had me nodding along. I hadn’t heard that tune in a while. It took me a moment to realize there was a reason for that.
That was my sister Chandra’s ringtone.
I handled the phone carefully, as if it was a live grenade. The screen confirmed what I already knew – Chandra’s name lit up the display in black and white. My heart lurched in my chest as my finger hovered over the screen. Should I pick up? I missed her terribly – but then, she’d betrayed me so badly.
In the end, curiosity won out. “Hello?” I asked, only the slightest quaver in my voice.
“Hey, it’s me.” Chandra sounded the same as ever. “How’ve you been?”
“How I’ve been?” My shoulders tightened and drew back, and I fixed the towel around my chest as I took quick, irritated steps around the living room. Any vestiges of my arousal were gone. I was all business now. “Are you calling to apologize, or not?”
“Excuse me?” There was that condescension, as thick as ever. “Are you still on that? I thought you might be happy to hear from me.”
“Oh, please.”
“I thought you might’ve had the time and space to reflect on what happened and take your share of the blame.”
“What share?” I felt like throwing the phone across the room. Mercy being taken was her fault, all hers. “And why did you call me if I’m so awful?”
“For the millionth time, I’m sorry I flaked out on you that night. I really am.” I could hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “You have to accept your part of the responsibility. If the issue was just Mercy being alone for one night, she would never have been taken.”
“And yet she was,” I growled. She had some nerve to try to tell me any part of this was my fault.
“As for your other question, why I’m calling?” She spoke over me, ignoring everything I had to say, like she always did. “Darius proposed, Jenelle. We’re getting married. You’re my sister, and I want you to be there.”
My stomach turned over. This shouldn’t have been a shock. She and Darius had been on-again, off-again for at least two years, maybe three. And she’d always hoped to get him to settle down. If I’d been a better person, I would’ve been happy for her. Instead, all I felt was empty.
When we were kids, we had everything in common. We tramped through the neighborhood side by side, chattering about life and the universe. Even in high school, we shared some of the same friends and interests. When I got pregnant, she stood by me. It took me a little longer to finish high school, so I graduated side by side with her.
We’d been equals once, and then having Mercy had put me behind her. But that was okay, because Mercy was better than any life accomplishment. Now Chandra was going to have it all. The spouse, the kids, the white picket fence. And here I was with none of the above. Mercy had been my joy in life for so long, the one thing redeeming me from a life of pointless drudgery – and now she was gone.
“Jenelle?” Chandra prompted. She sounded quieter now, softer.
I cleared my throat. “Do our parents know you’re inviting me?”
There was a long pause. “No. Not yet.”
“You should probably tell them.”
“Jenelle, don’t be like that.”
“Like what?” I clenched my jaw. I felt like putting my fist through the wall. “They’r
e bankrolling this wedding, aren’t they? They should have control over the guestlist.”
“They’d want you there, if…”
“If I wasn’t such a degenerate heathen. I know.” Their words from the last time we’d spoken rang through my mind. “You can tell them these things don’t change, and I’ll be like this for the rest of their life. But they don’t have to worry. I’ll stay far away from them so I don’t bother them with my filthy, disgusting existence.”
“Jenelle!” She sounded horrified. “I was going to say they’d want you there if they could get their heads out of their own asses and realize you’re still the same girl they raised. The one they love.”
I shook my head, a sick feeling rising in my stomach. “Tell them that, not me.”
“I want to!” she said. “I’d love nothing more than to have you there, all three of you. Even if you don’t talk to each other, it’d mean the world to have you there for my big day. You’re family, and it makes me sick that we haven’t been talking to each other. I’m ready to go to bat for you, I just need to know you want me on your team. I’m not going to confront them over you and then you don’t even want to show up.”
I swallowed. That was far from what I’d expected her to say. The anguish in her voice sounded genuine, and for a moment I was tempted to say yes – to let her talk to my parents about me and ask them if I could attend.
Then I remembered who I was talking to.
“I don’t think so,” I said coldly. “Why should I trust anything you say? Why would I believe you’d even talk to our parents? Why should I show up for you when you didn’t bother to show up for me?” My voice was laced with bitterness.
“Jenelle!” The word came out almost as a cry. “I’m trying here, okay? I don’t want things to be like this between us. I made one mistake. One! Are you ever going to forgive me for it?”
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