Jessica shook her head sadly, knowing how wrong she had been. That last winter, when she was four months shy of her eighteenth birthday, everything had fallen apart. She had left this room and this house, and until today she had not returned.
She went to the window and crept onto the seat, folding her legs under her and leaning her head against the frame. What would I give to change the past? she wondered. To go back to that year and do everything over again, make it come out right this time? She closed her eyes and gave in to the rush of memory, so long suppressed. Like the flood from a bursting dam it washed over her and engulfed her.
Chapter 2
Jessica was ten when her sister, Jean, was born. Her mother died shortly after having the baby, and George Portman soon discovered that he could not care for two children by himself. He hired a nanny for Jean and sent Jessica to boarding school, which left him free to pursue the consuming interest of his life: running his business. Jessica remained away, except for brief vacations, even spending summers at camp, until she developed mononucleosis during her sophomore year of high school. At first she was treated for flu in the infirmary, but when she did not improve, the headmistress called in a specialist who diagnosed the problem. Concerned about the long-term nature of the illness, the doctor felt that Jessica should probably go home to recuperate. The principal passed this recommendation on to Jessica’s father, who sent for his daughter.
Portman engaged a nurse to care for her, and all through that spring and summer Jessica languished in bed, forbidden to do anything other than read and watch television. The treatment consisted of little more than rest and proper diet, and once she felt better she became restless, eager to get up and resume her life. She studied at home and took make-up exams to complete her courses. By August blood tests indicated that her red blood cells had returned to a normal level, and she was pronounced fit to resume her education.
But George Portman was convinced that her previous school had neglected Jessica’s health and decided to keep her at home. He enrolled her in the Bright River Regional High School, where she began her junior year in the fall.
For the first time in her life Jessica was exposed to the atmosphere of a co-educational public school. The transition from the uniformed young ladies of her boarding school past to the denim clad students who surrounded her now was a thrilling and heady experience. She was accustomed to being in class with girls, even if they dressed and behaved quite differently, but the boys! She couldn’t get used to their size, their voices, their constantly felt masculine presence. They seemed to be everywhere, large and muscular with coltish bodies and shining, shaggy hair, talking and laughing, lounging indolently in doorways and watching her with covetous, curious eyes.
Was it because she was George Portman’s daughter that she drew so much attention? She thought so, not realizing that most of them didn’t know who she was, but were attracted to the new, pretty blonde in their midst. When she was identified, sometimes she was resented, as the children of mill hands comprised a large portion of the student body. But as time passed, her natural, unassuming personality caused those who might have held her parentage against her to forget about it, and Jessica began to blend in and adjust.
She had been in the school for almost a month and had made a friend, when something happened to change her life. The friend was Madeline Conway, whose father ran the delivery service for Portman Mills. Jessica had known Madeline previously, from some company picnics and Christmas parties she’d attended, but when the girls discovered they were in the same homeroom their acquaintance ripened and they became close. Maddy, as she was called, was outgoing and chatty, Jessica’s unofficial tour guide. When Jessica had a question or wanted to inquire about some procedure or regulation, Maddy was sure to know the answer.
One day at the beginning of their lunch period, Maddy and Jessica were standing at the latter’s locker when Jessica felt a pair of eyes on her. The staring persisted while she put her books on the shelves, until she finally became uncomfortable enough to turn and look. She met the gaze of a tall, broad shouldered dark boy in a senior letterman’s jacket. Instead of turning away, flustered at being caught, he continued to look at her steadily, completely unruffled by her awareness of him.
Jessica glanced away, but then was drawn back to him. He was still looking, his serious, thoughtful expression oddly mature and definitely unnerving. They remained that way, locked in silent communication across the crowded corridor, until another student touched the boy’s shoulder and he turned. Jessica looked back at Maddy,who was observing the scene with interest.
“What was that about?” she asked Jessica, nodding toward the dark boy, who was now walking off after casting a departing glance over his shoulder.
“That guy was staring at me,” Jessica replied.
Maddy smiled slyly. “Don’t you know who that is?”
Jessica shook her head, slamming her locker door closed with a bang.
“Only the bad actor of the football team, that’s who,” Maddy said with relish, obviously enjoying her role of knowledgeable informant. “Jack Chabrol. His real name is Jacques—don’t you love it? He’s a senior and his family is from Canada, you know, the French speaking province. He has this terrific accent, you should hear him. They just moved here about three years ago. There’s a sister in ninth and a bunch of little kids running around. He lives in that old brick tenement down by the river.”
“Too bad you don’t know anything about him,” Jessica commented dryly.
“Hey, I make it my business to find out these things. I’m surprised you weren’t aware of him. His parents work in your dad’s factory.”
That gave Jessica a moment’s pause. Her father was notorious for using cheap immigrant labor, and apparently the Chabrols were part of his underpaid work force.
“He’s suspended from the team right now,” Maddy rambled on, “but he’ll be reinstated soon. The coach needs him too much to bench him for long. He had a fight with the captain, Jeff Thompson, when Jeff tossed off some remark about his family.”
“His family?”
“Yeah, Jeff was making fun of the way they talk, or something.”
“Oh,” Jessica said thoughtfully.
“Cute, isn’t he?” Maddy asked, nudging Jessica in the ribs.
“I didn’t notice,” Jessica sniffed, but her barely suppressed smile gave her away.
“Hah,” Maddy said derisively. “You’d have to be dead not to notice, and at last check you were very much alive.”
“I will be dead if I flunk this trig quiz,” Jessica said, deliberately changing the subject.
“I got a fifty on the last one,” Maddy said gloomily. “At this rate I’ll be thirty-five before I graduate from high school.”
Jessica continued the conversation about the upcoming test, but her mind was on the encounter that had just taken place. Whether she would admit it to her friend or not, she knew that from now on, as she passed through the corridors of Bright River High, she would be looking for a certain face in the crowd.
On the following afternoon, Jessica was sitting in last period study when Jack Chabrol sauntered through the double doors of the auditorium. He flashed a hall pass at the monitor, Miss Chambers, who barely glanced at it and waved him toward the sea of students. Last period was an “open” study hall, which meant that it was a catchall for those kids who weren’t scheduled for a class. People wandered freely in and out of it, frequently excused for student council meetings, team practices and other activities. Jessica watched, her heart beating faster, as Jack approached and slipped into the empty seat behind her.
“Hi,” he said into her ear, as Miss Chambers shifted a stack of papers on her desk and bent her head again.
When Jessica didn’t answer he added, “I saw you in the hall at lunch yesterday.”
Miss Chambers continued to scribble, so Jessica turned her head and whispered, “You’ve never been in this study before.”
“That’s true. I have a standing excuse for football practice, but I’m suspended from the team for a while.”
Maddy was right about his accent. When he said, “That’s true,” the first word came out as “Zat’s,” and Jessica thought it was delightful.
“So,” he went on. “You’re new, aren’t you? I would have remembered you from last year.”
“I transferred in from private school in September.”
Miss Chambers looked up and sent them both the death ray. Jessica dropped her eyes to her book.
Silence reigned for several minutes, and then a folded note dropped over Jessica’s shoulder and onto her desk. She shoved it under her hand until Miss Chambers was completely absorbed, and then opened it to read: “Meet me by the flagpole after the last bell. I’ll wait.”
Jessica shifted in her seat and looked at Jack fully for the first time. At close range his brown eyes were flecked with gold, and he had a small scar, long ago faded to white, at the base of his chin, just below the cleft. She nodded, and he smiled.
That was the beginning.
* * * *
On their first date Jessica insisted on meeting Jack at the movies. He dismissed her reluctance to have him come to her house philosophically; lots of girls had difficult parents. But when she wanted to walk home alone, he was determined to accompany her, and it wasn’t until they arrived at their destination that he understood the reason for her behavior. He hadn’t asked Jessica’s last name because he didn’t care what it was, but he did know the owner of the imposing colonial on the knoll at the edge of town. When Jessica paused in front of it and turned to face him, he released her hand, his expression changing.
“This is your house?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“Old man Portman is your father?”
“Yes.” Then, unable to stop herself, she added anxiously, “Does it matter?”
“Does it matter to you?” Jack countered.
“No.”
“But we both know it will to your dad,” he went on, and Jessica couldn’t disagree. Portman’s reputation was widespread and well deserved. He regarded Bright River as his private fiefdom, and Jessica as his inviolate property. It went without saying that the son of two of his factory workers would not be considered an appropriate companion for his daughter. And Portman was not one to stand idly by and let his child pursue her own course. If he discovered that Jessica was seeing Jack, there would be a price to pay.
“This is why you didn’t want me to pick you up tonight,” Jack said flatly.
Jessica looked away.
“How long did you think you could keep it a secret?” Jack asked. “Somebody at school was sure to tell me, or I would have seen your name. This just happened so fast that I didn’t think...”
“That I might be the daughter of the least popular man in town,” Jessica finished miserably.
Jack put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. They didn’t talk for a long moment and then he said, his lips against her hair, “If I did go to meet him, would he throw me out?”
“I don’t know what he would do. I can’t think about it,” Jessica murmured, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek to his sweater. “I’m sorry,” she added softly. “I know it’s horribly unfair.”
“Oh, I understand,” Jack said bitterly. “Certainly a serf like me is not fit company for George Portman’s little princess. And I’m a Canuck who can’t speak proper English to boot. Your father would probably have me shot.”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way.”
“It’s true, isn’t it? He didn’t spend a fortune sending you to those fancy schools in order to have you hang out with me.” Jack made a disgusted sound and added, “How could I have been so stupid? I should have realized before this what the situation was.” He paused. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
Jessica drew back from him and looked into his face. “Is that what you want?” she whispered.
In answer, he pulled her back into his arms. They had only known each other a short time, but it was already clear to them that their developing relationship was too important to surrender to circumstances.
“Maybe I should just pick you up some night and introduce myself,” Jack said desperately, clearly preferring the confrontational approach to the other one available to them: sneaking around and meeting in secret.
Jessica demurred. “No, Jack,” she said sadly. “You have to consider your parents’ jobs.”
“You think he would fire them?” Jack said, aghast. It seemed an extreme reaction to a disobedient daughter’s dating choice.
Jessica, who knew her father, considered it a strong possibility. “He once got rid of a cook we had because she used to bring her little girl to work and he caught me playing with her a couple of times.”
Jack received this disclosure with a long silence. Then he said, stroking Jessica’s hair absently, “We’ll just have to be careful, that’s all. Keep a low profile at school, so word doesn’t get back to your father. It’s good that we haven’t been together much so far. I don’t think we’ve attracted much attention.”
“Maddy knows, but she won’t say anything.” A note of humor crept into Jessica’s tone. “Won’t it seem odd that you don’t have some girl clinging to your arm everywhere you go? I’ve heard that was your usual practice in the past.”