Authors: Misha Crews
“Do I seem romantic to you?” Jenna had asked suddenly, as Rose was drawing this picture. Her voice had held a sharp edge, but Rose knew that it was not intended to cut. When Rose hadn’t answered, Jenna went on. “Young widow with a child, alone and in need of saving, or something silly like that?”
Rose had just looked at her, knowing that something more was coming.
“Well, I’m not romantic. There’s nothing remotely romantic about losing your husband or raising a fatherless child,” Jenna had said severely.
“I know,” Rose replied, keeping her voice soft.
“Do you?” Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t see Frank as some kind of knight in shining armor?”
Rose had tried to keep the look of distaste off her face, but Jenna had seen it and smiled.
“You don’t like Frank?” Jenna had asked. She didn’t seem upset, just thoughtful. “Why not? Most people like him.”
“He’s not sincere,” Rose had said before she could stop herself.
Jenna considered that. “Is anybody?” she asked.
Rose bit her lip. She felt as if she was getting in over her head with this conversation, but she wasn’t sure exactly why. “You are,” she’d ventured.
“No, I’m not.” Jenna turned away, rubbing lotion into her hands. “I’ve told many lies in my life, Rose. Most of them have been to try to make people happy — or to try to keep them from being unhappy. But they’re still lies, and that’s no good.” She’d met Rose’s gaze, and the sorrow had poured out of her. “I’m not in the least sincere.”
Rose had considered. “What about Mr. Balentine?”
“Adam?”
Rose nodded, feeling a smile spread across her face. She liked Mr. Balentine, better than she’d let on to anyone. She tried to hide her expression before Jenna looked at her.
“Yes,” Jenna had said eventually. “I would say that Adam is definitely one of the most sincere people I’ve ever met. But even he has his disingenuous moments.”
“Everybody does,” Rose had offered.
Jenna’s eyes flicked up, and a knowing look came into her eyes. Heat suffused Rose’s face as she realized that Jenna had guessed her innermost feelings. For a long, mortifying moment, she was afraid that Jenna would press her about it. Rose sat very still, waiting for the worst.
But Jenna just turned back to the mirror. A smile curved up the corners of her mouth as she said, “Lucien used to tell me that most human beings are drawn to people who are similar to them in some way. Adam — Mr. Balentine — is intelligent and caring and loyal. And I think that anyone who is attracted to him must be like that, also.” In the mirror, she met Rose’s eyes. “Do you know what I mean?” she’d said.
Warmth spread through Rose as she nodded. That was probably the nicest compliment she had ever received, and Jenna had delivered it without even making a big deal out of it.
It must be wonderful to be an adult, Rose had thought, and be able to say such perfect things without even trying.
Then she’d blurted out, “So how are you similar to Dr. Malloy?”
Jenna had been so surprised that she’d dropped her lipstick, and turned to face Rose with a severe look on her face. “There are very few people in my life who could ask a question like that and get away with it,” she said. Then her face softened. “But you’re one of them. And I guess it’s a fair question, considering our conversation.” She played with the folds of her dress while she thought about it.
“Frank and I have both lost people that we love,” she said at length. “And until you live through that, you don’t really understand what it’s like. We comfort each other.”
Rose waited, knowing that there had to be more. Jenna was going to marry Dr. Malloy, after all, so there
had
to be more. Didn’t there?
“But of course, we also have a lot in common,” Jenna went on, much to Rose’s relief. “It’s hard to explain, actually, but Dr. Malloy and I both share a similar outlook on many things — politics, and human rights, and art — so many things that I’m passionate about. And Christopher, of course.” Jenna’s eyes lit with love as she spoke her son’s name. “Frank is a gentle man. He’ll be a wonderful father. I think that’s the most important thing.”
“And you love him,” Rose dared to say.
Jenna’s head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. “Of course I do.”
But Rose had had the distinct impression that, whether Jenna knew it or not, this was one of the times when she wasn’t being completely sincere.
Stella padded into the dining room, rousing Rose from her thoughts.
“What are you up to, sweetie? Still bored?” Stella leaned over and gave Rose a loud kiss on the ear.
“Not really,” Rose admitted.
Stella gingerly touched the edge of the sketchpad. “That’s a beautiful drawing,” she said admiringly. “I think you get better every day, you know that?”
Rose blushed. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
Stella hunkered down and ruffled Rose’s hair in a way that Rose loved and hated at the same time. “Tell you what, kid, since this day has turned out to be a wash — no pun intended — why don’t we make ice cream tonight? What do you say?”
Without waiting for an answer, Stella planted another kiss on Rose’s cheek, and tickled her side. Rose giggled in spite of herself. She loved Jenna in her way and admired her greatly. But she was always so,
so
glad that Stella was her mom.
C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN
I
T WAS NOT THE WORST RAIN
that the city had ever seen, but it was bad enough. Flash floods took drivers by surprise, police erected barricades along several streets, minor traffic collisions caused cuts and bruises. And although most folks agreed that it was no night for pyrotechnics, Arlington Hospital treated a typical number of people for minor burns from firecrackers.
But Jenna, for one, was glad for the storm. When she had gotten up that morning and heard the weather report on the radio, her heart had lightened. Stormy weather meant that it was going to be a day just for herself and her son, and that was the kind of day Jenna liked best of all.
The first thing they’d done was spend a few hours “having school” in the dining room. Christopher had started playschool in the spring, and ever since then he had been begging Jenna to send him to “real school.” He’d taken it very hard when she had explained that he would have to wait until September of the following year to start kindergarten. As far as Christopher was concerned, that was eons away.
So on some mornings they’d have school at home, and Christopher always considered this a special treat. Since Jenna knew that it wouldn’t be long before school became the bane of his existence, she had decided to enjoy his enthusiasm while it lasted. And she did so love to watch him grip that oversized pencil in his little fist and diligently trace the letters that she’d drawn for him.
After school was over, they had lunch. Christopher decided to share his bologna sandwich with Fritz, which Jenna elected not to notice. And after lunch, Christopher picked out one of his favorite books, and they settled down on the sofa to read.
Jenna was halfway through
Peter Rabbit
before she realized that her son had fallen asleep with his head on her lap. His dark hair curled at his temples, damp with perspiration. Jenna fanned him gently with her hand as she leaned her head back against the sofa. She smiled to herself, feeling the good warmth of her son’s body next to her own. This was a good day.
There won’t be many more days like this
.
The thought made her wince. Eventually she and Frank would get married, and the little family unit of herself and her son would have to expand to accommodate a third party. It was all for the best, though. As she told herself so often, Christopher needed a father. Jenna had grown up without a mother, and although Lucien had done the best he could, Jenna knew that she’d missed out on a very special relationship.
Well, she didn’t want her son to miss out on anything. Not ever. He was going to have a father, and that’s all there was to it.
But he has a father
,
her mind whispered. He has a real father, who wants to be close to him.
Jenna pushed the thought away and tried to relax. The sound of the rain pounding against the windows was soothing. Her eyes drifted closed as she sighed.
There were so many things she didn’t want to think about. Frank. Adam, and the sad, lost look he had worn when she had left him in Dupont Circle. Maya and her little boy Joseph. Jenna wondered what they were doing today, wondered if she would ever hear from Maya’s brother. It had been weeks since she’d gone to his house, and she’d heard nothing so far. So many things….
Jenna had just drifted off to sleep when a cold, wet nose shoved firmly into her hand. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked around the living room, which was dim from the storm. The cold nose touched her hand again, and she focused on Fritz, whose giant head was almost level with her own.
He pranced impatiently, emitting an urgent whimper that had her rolling her eyes.
“Now?” she whispered to him. “I’ve been trying to get you to go out for hours, and you choose now?”
His only answer was to whine — but softly, as if he knew that Christopher was asleep and didn’t want to wake him.
Jenna sighed. “Fine,” she said, and she set about trying to stand up without disturbing her son. She settled Christopher gently on the couch before following the anxious German Shepherd to the back door and opening it for him. She watched with amusement as he launched himself outside in spite of the heavy downpour. Usually Fritz hated going out in the rain.
The phone on the wall rang, and she reached out to pick it up. It was probably Kitty, calling to make sure they were okay.
But it wasn’t Kitty’s voice that she heard when she put the receiver to her ear. It was Adam’s. Jenna stiffened, the knowledge of her trip to find Maya biting heavily into her conscience.
“I heard on the radio that there’s been flash-flooding in some areas.” Adam’s voice echoed hollowly down the phone line. “I just wanted to make sure that you and Christopher are all right, that you have supplies on-hand in case the power goes out.”
Jenna forced herself to relax. He sounded genuinely concerned, not as though he was in the mood to pressure her into confessing something. “Yes, we’re fine. We probably won’t even lose power, but if we do we’ve got candles and batteries — everything we need.” A smile formed on her face. “It’ll be like camping. Christopher will probably enjoy it.”
“Sounds like fun,” Adam said. Jenna could hear a wistful sound in his voice, and she knew that he wanted to be there with them, looking after them, enjoying his family.
And suddenly she realized that she wanted him to be there, too. In fact, he was probably the only person that she would welcome into the house that day, the only one whose presence wouldn’t create ripples in the serenity of her day with Christopher. Adam, she knew, would fit in. And that worried her.
She hurried to change the subject. “How’s your house coming along?”
After a pause, Adam said, “Just fine, thanks. Should be finished by September, along with the other two on the street.”
“That’s wonderful,” Jenna said, and meant it. “I’m glad that you’re going to stay in the area. It means a lot to Bill and Kitty to have you around.”
“Just them?” His voice turned soft.
She twirled the phone cord around her finger. “Christopher too, of course.”
“And you?”
“Me? Well, I — oh, for God’s sake!” The words burst out of her lips as Fritz came barreling back inside and started to shake out his coat, exploding dog-scented water all over her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She explained what had happened as she pulled some rags from under the sink. She wiped the dog’s thick wet fur and his muddy paws. Then she shook her head as he galloped happily away, probably going to check on Christopher.
“That dog is a nuisance,” she said. “But Christopher loves him, so what am I going to do?” She sighed as she looked around the kitchen. Beads of muddy water clung to every surface — including her blouse and shorts.
“You need a man around that house,” Adam said with mock-sternness. Then he laughed. “Someone to help with the heavy lifting and dog-related chores.”
Jenna was silent, not sure what to say.
After a moment, Adam caught on. When he spoke again, all the humor was gone from his voice. “But of course, you’re going to have a man around your house soon enough, aren’t you?”
“That’s right,” she answered tightly.
Pain wormed its way down the line. “Well, maybe I should let you off the phone in case he’s trying to call. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s worried about you and Christopher.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” Jenna kept her voice indifferent. “I need to get this place cleaned up anyway.”
There was a long pause. Then, “Fine. You know where to find me if you need me.”
Jenna heard a click. She stared at the phone, a long-familiar pain sitting dully in her heart. “But that’s just the point,” she whispered. “When I need you, where will you be next?”