Authors: Dianne Venetta
He looked at Jennifer, his gaze dark and penetrating.
You told her about my mother
.
Jennifer felt her bare arms turn to gooseflesh.
“One of the purest connections with our Father is through the Mother,” Beatrice continued. “From the riches of the earth to the heavens above, Mother Nature takes part in everything we do.” Beatrice’s eyes were intent, serene against the ravages of time, focused on the man before her.
Jennifer was amazed to witness Jax’s expression turn meek as a kitten. His eyes had stilled, almost mesmerized as he spoke. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
Jennifer wondered at his question.
“Complete.” Beatrice gave a sad nod. “It’s the cycle of life.”
But she suddenly understood. Jax was feeling his mother’s absence. Within a small space of time, his world had been flipped by the soft words of her mother.
Instinct wanted to fill the void for him, to soothe the hurt that must be coursing through him, but she resisted. Grief was a space nothing could satisfy, a hole no word could plug.
“Love is everlasting, on earth as it is in heaven,” Beatrice murmured, a bare wisp in the hollow of evening.
“For ever and ever,” Jax whispered, his tone coated in sorrow. Dusk descended upon them, casting shadows across the lawn. No one uttered a sound, each content to listen as the water flowed into the basin below. A sense of inevitability hung heavy in the air. Surreal and weightless, it reminded the end was near, yet promised love would endure.
Life was fleeting, attachments were temporary, grief worked its way in and out through time. Death made no judgment, snatched without quarrel.
Her chest tightened. Left one vacant without qualm.
Jennifer’s eyes met Jax’s and for an instant, recognition passed between them. He understood.
All she could do was wait.
Unfortunately for Jennifer, the fingertips of death crept quickly, slipped around her neck, announcing themselves with the shrill ring of her telephone. Bolting to life, she grappled through the black of night.
2:14.
A bone-chilling trepidation poured into her heart. The hospital paged her.
Fairhaven
called her at home
. Hand trembling, she picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Dr. Hamilton?”
“Yes.” Her heart tripped, knowing immediately what came next.
“Your mother is asking for you.”
“I’ll be there right away.” She smacked phone to its cradle. Fear wound through her limbs.
Your mother is asking for you
. Wasting no time, Jennifer hurried to dress. Unsteady hands rendered a simple task difficult, but her mind pushed. She couldn’t be late. Please, she prayed.
Don’t let me be late
.
Twenty minutes later, she stood staring at her mother’s still body through a blur of tears. Painted in soft light, the cream cotton blankets appeared velvet, her nightgown more satin than cotton, her ivory skin...
Pasty by comparison. Jennifer hurried to the head of the bed and reached for her mother’s slender hand. Startled by the touch of ice, her heart skipped.
No.
..!
Chapter Thirty-Three
Beatrice’s lashes fluttered. With that uncanny sense of hers, she opened them and turned toward Jennifer. Reaching out through the silence, her gaze deepened to a lucid blue.
“Mom,” Jennifer whispered, heart pounding with relief.
She’d made it
. She wasn’t too late.
“Jenny...”
Her mother’s speech was near indiscernible. Jennifer leaned forward, closing the space between them to inches. “Yes, mom, I’m here.” One hand clutched around her mother’s, she lightly rubbed the other across her forearm—for warmth, for connection, for something constructive to do. “You asked to see me.”
Beatrice’s smile never made it to her lips, but shimmered lovingly in her eyes. “I love you... More than life... I love you.”
The words sliced her heart in two. “I love you, too.” Grief rendered her hand limp. “So much. I love you, too.”
“You have...a beautiful life...ahead of you...”
She moved to caress her mother’s cheek, to brush the hair from her face. She wanted to scream—don't go!
Not now
.
I need you!
“Look...beneath the surface...” Her voice but a feather of sound, Beatrice’s speech was labored but clear. “That’s where your true love lies...”
She closed her eyes.
Denial warred with reality. No—not yet.
Please not yet
.
But they proved to be her mother’s last words. Jennifer’s face twisted in anguish. She pressed the thin hand hard against her lips. She hated the feel of skin and bones, but she needed the connection, the union. She needed her to remain.
Jennifer rolled the hand to her cheek, squeezing her eyes shut, she fought the fear coursing through her. She can’t go. There’s too much to live for. Too much she needed to do.
But as she reeled, deep inside Jennifer knew this was the end; an end she had already prolonged for too long. She hung on, because of her daughter. As if she could delay the inevitable.
But it was irrational. Beatrice Hamilton’s life was over. Her mother’s body was shutting down, turning out the light on life, returning to her husband’s side.
Leaving Jennifer alone. Aurelio summarily rejected, Sam a thousand miles away, and Jax...
Her heart broke as their recent weeks, filled with new beginning and life-changing moments evaporated from her thoughts. Jax may as well be a thousand miles away. No ties, no connection, he was but a blip on the screen of her subconscious. A dream.
Jennifer’s shoulders shook as she began to sob. She dropped to the bedside chair. Once her anchor, the cushions now felt rigid, like foreign objects. No longer a place to ease into the visit at hand, this was her post for the death watch.
Still breathing, her mother had lapsed into a coma.
Through the night, Jennifer nodded in and out of sleep. But as dawn seeped in through the blinds, her mind crawled to an awakened state. With a light brush across dry powdery lips, she determined her mother was still alive.
Allowing her hand to fall, Jennifer prepared herself to sit out the duration. She would not leave her mother’s side.
She had alerted her partners hours ago, grateful for their response.
Take all the time you want
.
We’ll manage your patients from this end
. Next she had called Sam, now bound for the next flight out of Ohio.
Which gave Jennifer comfort. She would help her carry this burden she had no idea how to bear.
Vigilant nurses moved in and out of the room, offering assistance and words of support. Jennifer appreciated them all, but refused their advice to break from her vigil. She couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t. Her mother was all she had and until she took her last breath, she wanted to be with her.
By noon, the doctor stopped in. He warned her it could be days before Beatrice finally let go. At this point, the best thing she could do was keep up her strength. Go home. Get showered. Eat something. They would call her if anything changed.
Reluctantly, Jennifer agreed. Since being roused from the dead of night, she had not eaten a morsel and admitted a shower might do her good. If only to renew her energy, enable her to resume her position. Releasing the frail hand, it was settled. Jennifer would return within two hours’ time. If need be, they were to call her cell phone directly.
# # #
“Jennifer,
I’m so sorry
.”
Jax had been waiting for her. Leaning against his truck, patient, determined, he had been here. Waiting.
She stared at him blankly. But how could Jax know?
“Sam called me this afternoon.” His words were rushed, as though he couldn’t get them out fast enough. “She couldn’t get a flight out until this evening and asked me to check on you—I told her I would.”
That explained it. Darn her, bless her, but that’s exactly something Sam would do. Caught between surprise and relief, Jennifer’s mind numbed to the courtesy of decorum and simply nodded she heard. Above them hung a low ceiling of gray. It dulled the beauty of her yard, but nourished her mood.
“Are you all right?” Jax swore under his breath, and brushed a hand through his hair. “
I’m sorry
—that was stupid.” He blinked hard, concern swimming in his eyes. “I
meant
is there anything I can do? How is she?”
The question unleashed a flurry of tears.
He cursed again. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said, not wanting him to struggle. Jax was here as a measure of good deed. He should know she appreciated it. No matter how mixed her feelings were at his presence, how much thoughts of her mother hurt, he should know she cared. “Thank you for coming.” She wiped fingers along the lids of her eyes. “Her condition hasn’t changed.”
“Does her doctor—“ he asked, but dumped the question as he stared at her. Brown eyes heavy with doubt, he seemed at a loss, but intent on being helpful, there for her.
“Her doctor doesn’t know...” Jennifer evaded the persistence of his gaze, unable to bear the yearning pulse of her heart, the desire to release her troubles and allow him the role of support.
Lover
.
The air temperature dropped by a noticeable degree. She rubbed her shoulders. “No one has any way of knowing,” she said abruptly. “Only time will tell.”
Sprinkles began to fall. Jax looked up, but before either could make a move, a crack of lightning cut across the sky, followed by a deafening roar. Rain fell.
Jax grabbed Jennifer by the arm. He slammed her car door closed and pulled her into a sudden sprint. Sailing up the steps and onto her back porch, he steered her toward a dry spot near the house. Shaking the water free from his hair, he released her arm. Allowing his gaze to settle on hers, he waited for direction.
Twisting straight dark hair into a makeshift ponytail, she gave a quick squeeze and release, wringing the water loose. The rain pounded overhead, fell in droves around them. It filled the silence with its beating.
“Jennifer?” he probed softly. “What can I do?”
Need gnawed at her. There was so much she wanted from him, but not the first idea how to ask. He understood what she was feeling, understood the connection, firsthand.
Jennifer turned and wrapped her arms around her body. There was so much she wanted—from him, from life—but not this way.
A lonesome feeling, the likes of which she had never known, encircled her body like a pack of hungry wolves. She felt lost in the present. No where to go, no one to turn to. By her own hand, she had committed herself to a life of solitude.
Absorbed in her grief and guilt, she had almost forgotten Jax was there until his arms slid around her body. Startled, she made no protest as he secured her within his embrace, cradling her against the warmth of his body.
Surprise evaporated as longing washed over her.
Immense longing
. The muscled wall of his chest behind her, the gentle rest of his head against hers... Never before had she needed the touch of another human being as much as she needed it now. Like a child seeking reassurance, everything would be okay, the world was not as scary as it seemed, she needed his touch.
She sank into his body. If only for a little while, she would steal this connection and claim it as her own.
If only for a little while
...
The sound of rain filled the afternoon.
As the two stood in silence, their common tie threaded through her chest, around her troubled heart, and laced them tightly together. Firm within his hold, she brought her head back and rubbed her cheek lightly against his. He drew her closer and swayed them back and forth in a subtle, calming motion. He stroked her hair, caressed her cheek. He kissed her. A simple kiss, delivered at the side of her head, the way one would do to ease the troubled heart of a friend.
She didn’t object. It felt good.
Right
. The two were crossing boundaries never before crossed. What should have felt awkward, felt perfect.
Meant to be.
Rain hammered the rooftop, blocking out everything beyond this porch, beyond this moment, as his lips stole their way down to her ear. Moving with feather-light pressure, he drifted to her cheek. He ran a hand up and down her arm, her skin erupting into gooseflesh beneath his fingertips. No longer crying, she moved further into the contour of his body. Matching his rhythm, she swayed, back and forth, back and forth.
She breathed in slow and deep. He pulled her closer and she gave in, into his strength, into his desire. Yes. This felt right. She turned.
She parted her lips in invitation. As she hoped, he dropped his mouth to hers, barely grazing, his movements hesitant, unsure. Dry and bare, her lips pulsed with desire. She moaned. Friendship was no longer enough.