Switched, Bothered and Bewildered (26 page)

"And if he doesn't find out, then who am I? He thinks I'm Jillia-a-a-an." The same sobbing hiccup divided "Jillian" into seven syllables.

"Wow, I see your point. You're screwed."

"Thanks," she sobbed harder. "Not only that, I certainly haven't left much for Jillian to work with when she gets back."

"Isn't she all cozy with the carpenter man at your place?"

"Oh, that's just a summer fling. She has it bad for Jackson. She told me."

"My, my, things are certainly a mess. On the other hand..."

Jana Lee lifted her head up slightly, hoping Ollie had some words of comfort.

"No, I was going to say that sometimes love has an amazing way of overcoming all odds, but in

this case, I'd say you're screwed no matter which way the wind blows."

"Geez, Ollie."

"Might as well face facts. Now wash your face and quit that caterwauling. There are other men out there. Buck up, honey. You'll be out of here by Friday, and from what I hear from Jillian, there's a large selection of cute manly builder types running around your house. Oops, I shouldn't have said that."

"What is she up to now?" Jana Lee sucked in a breath and stopped crying. There were tissues piled five inches high on the desk.

"Minor repairs. A little painting. Nothing to worry about." Oliver got up.

"When it comes to Jillian, nothing is minor."

"See? You can think about what she might be doing to your house instead of your hopeless situation with Jackson. Jillian has great taste, even if she is a little over the top," Oliver reminded her.

"So clever, changing the subject. She does have good taste, though, there is at least that." A deep sigh escaped Jana Lee's lips, and she flopped back in the chair.

"Her apartment
is
marvelous," Ollie said.

"I have enjoyed the peacefulness of the place. It's been a great break from my mess of a house." She took in a few ragged breaths and held out her hand to Oliver. "Thanks, Ollie, I don't have too many friends to talk to. Jillian took up a whole lot

of space when we were young, and I guess it's a notorious trait of twins to have problems opening up to others."

"You're welcome," he said, patting her hand. "And I consider you very easy to talk to." Oliver smiled at her. "Now, I'll tidy up the last-minute things and you get ready to leave early today. You're in a state. There's no reason you have to stay late." He let go of her hand, nodded and slipped out the door.

"Easy to talk to, but not so easy to love," she said to herself, very quietly.

Suddenly she missed her daughter terribly. She thought how nice it would be to at least spend some time with Carly here in San Francisco. They might mend some mom-daughter fences and take in the galleries.

She poured a glass of water from the pitcher she kept on the shelf and sipped till she felt calmer, then she acted on her impulse. She dialed her house in Washington.

¹⁷

A Pair of (-tearts

Jillian had forgotten how much she liked sex. Sex was good. Sex with Dean was
really
good. They'd taken every opportunity over the weekend to explore just how good. It was how good in the kitchen, how good in the bathtub, how good in the shimmering Seabridge Bay water at night, and quite a few how good in the bedroom.

They'd made it two steps into the house after a quick hamburger dinner run Saturday night and stripped each other down for a frantic, crazy, hot session on the new area rug. Monty Python was not amused and huffed off through the plastic sheeting into the utility room to eat. Jillian had rug burns, but she didn't care.

Dean Wakefield had scratches, but he didn't care either. He also had the hands of an artist; a very, very creative artist. His strength was a constant turn-on to her, and she could hardly keep her mouth to herself.

As if that wasn't enough, Dean could cook.

He sent the crew home at noon on Saturday and Sunday, much to their delight, and much to her pleasure. Carly came home right on time after her boat trip, and boy, that kid knew exactly what was going on. After an afternoon of cleanup and preparation for the finishing details, she cornered Jillian.

"You, my aunt, are
doing it
with the Dean man. Look at the way he's looking at you. It's like . . . close to disgusting. And look at you, you're all glowing and ... I don't even know how to put it."

"Well, there's hardly any point in denying it. I am an adult, you know, and long overdue for a torrid affair."

Carly poured herself a glass of lemonade that Dean had made and left to chill in the fridge. "Is that all he is, Aunt Jillian? A torrid affair? Aren't you supposed to be leaving on Friday?"

Dean, fortunately, had stepped outside to hammer on something. He was busy building a new storage cupboard for the corner of the living room. They'd picked out a cool prefab unit to

hold the TV and stereo stuff. Dean was fun to shop with. Jillian loved this whole shopping-painting-sex-food thing they were doing. The shopping had really been fun, with Dean showing her all kinds of antique stores around the county so they could shabby chic up Jana Lee's house.

Jillian didn't say anything to Carly She just stared out the window at Dean in his T-shirt and jeans. He had on a backward Mariners baseball cap.

"So?" Carly pressed.

"Maybe we'll find a way to see each other."

"Ya, right, with you back working your butt off at Pitman Toys?"

"Maybe you're too young to be talking about this, young lady."

"Nice try. I'm wise beyond my years. I have friends whose parents have been married several times. We've seen stuff."

"And where are you on the boyfriend scene?"

"I'm not seeing anyone special. We go to the movies in groups, you know, maybe there's three boys and four girls, or whatever, and there is one boy I like, but I've got other things to do besides moon at some boy. I'm serious about my art."

"I love that. Just remember to have fun too when you get older. God forbid I should encourage you to loosen up, your mother would kill me, but

there's more to life than work. I should know. I've completely screwed up, and here I am thirty-five and alone."

"No kidding." Carly drank more lemonade and made a face at Jillian.

Jillian made a face back at her. "So what about the boy?"

"He's an exchange student. He's going back to France at the end of the summer. His name is Averil. So what's the point?"

"Wow. Those French exchange students with that accent and all. Very hot."

"He's very sexy," Carly said.

"Okay. Your mom has had the big talk about birth control and safe sex and all that jazz, right?"

"Mostly we had to sit through that in sex ed, but she did a pretty good job. I thought she'd faint, really," Carly laughed.

"I bet. So my big advice is before Averil goes home, kiss him. That's all, just give him a big, juicy, American-girl kiss. No extra stuff. He's European. You never know what he's been up to."

Carly snorted a laugh into her lemonade. "So, so funny. By the way, my mom doesn't sound so good. Are you sure she's okay?"

"Why, did she say something?"

"Not really, just the sound of her voice. She sounds sad. I know that sound in her, she's worn a hole in sad."

"I didn't notice. She told me everything was fine."

"Aren't you supposed to have some psychic tie with your identical twin?"

"I think she's better at that than I am."

"Whatever. You should call her."

"I will. What's up for today?"

"I'm working on a canvas outside. I'm trying a landscape."

"Need help hauling stuff out there?"

"Sure. Is this okay, or should I be painting walls instead of boats and seagulls?"

"Na, go paint seagulls. We've got things under control here. We're almost done. Dean's going to clean the floors in here so we'll all have to be outside."

Jillian followed her niece to the spare room, where all her art supplies were neatly housed in a rolling tray unit. They decided to set up a mobile studio and hauled it all through the back door down toward the water's edge.

Carly set up her easel and a card table and ordered Jillian around as if she were an executive. That girl definitely took after her aunt. Really, she was an interesting combination of Jillian and Jana Lee. Artistic, but business minded. Of course that organizational streak had ended with the art supplies, as evidenced by the original state Jillian had found Carly's bedroom in.

As Jillian left her niece on the sloped lawn and

flat, stone-covered landing that made up Jana Lee's side yard, she heard her cell phone ringing. She ran for it and felt an interesting strength in her legs, like maybe all this fresh air, hard work and lovemaking had finally paid off. She felt
wonderful.

And she noticed that when Carly had mentioned going back to Pitman, she hadn't felt quite as panicked. Somewhat, but not the full-out heart-pounding deal.

The caller ID said Pitman Toys. Jillian was stupid not to have left Jana Lee a new cell phone, but she would just settle up the long-distance charges when she got back and tell them her cell had fritzed out on her or something. She was getting good at making stuff up, sadly.

At least she was being honest with Dean now.

"Hey, Jana, what's up?" Jillian said. After a few minutes of her sister talking about their contract, the weather, the office, nothing really, she had to agree with Carly; Jana Lee sounded down. Maybe Pitman did that to everyone. Maybe this whole thing had been too much for her sister.

"God, Jana, you sound stressed. I feel terrible for putting you in this position." She did, too. But at the same time she also felt better than she had in years, so there was a selfish part of her that was really glad she'd asked her sister to do this, and a caring part that was sorry she had put her sister

through it. She was nothing if not a woman with two sides.

"I'm okay. I just miss my daughter. I know this is asking a lot, but do you think we could arrange to have her flown here? We could see the city, and it could just look like she was visiting you, you know?"

Jillian was taken by surprise. She fell silent and thought about the logistics of that, but really, it was obvious that Jana Lee was having a hard time. "Would you like me to come back early?" she asked. She felt a knot in her stomach when she said that, but it wasn't so much about going back to Pitman this time: It was about leaving here. Leaving Dean.

"No, no, I really don't want you to come back yet, I have something I'm finishing up. I just wonder if Carly would be up for a trip."

"Did you ask her yourself?" Jillian asked.

"No, I didn't get this wild idea until just now. You can go ahead and ask her."

Jillian could feel the importance of this thing in her sister's voice. And after all, she'd gotten her into this; it was the least she could do. "I'll talk to her and get back to you."

"I might leave. I had a late meeting and I'm tired."

"Should I know about this?"

"No, it's all about the Little Princess project, and believe it or not, I was actually quite capable

of approving doll dresses and fabric for a blue dragon toy."

Jillian laughed. "I always thought there should be a prince to rescue us from Harvey."

"Me too. He'll have to wait for next season. So talk to my daughter, and let me know. I've got some savings—I can pay for her ticket."

"Don't be silly, it's my gift. Besides, I am the queen of finding cheap airfare, even late ones. Standby is always good, and there are seats open during the week."

"You're the genius."

Jillian wondered why her sister always said that. She was no genius, and Jana Lee had so much more going for her. "Okay, sis. I'll catch you later." She hung up the phone and slipped it in her shorts pocket. Carly would probably be thrilled to go hang out in Frisco. She'd love the museums and the galleries.

The feel of San Francisco crept into Jillian's memory. It was odd, but she didn't miss her apartment, or the city, or a favorite restaurant, or anything. She didn't even have a favorite restaurant because she ate while she read reports and mostly had the lunchroom caterer send her meals to her office.

Oliver had told her once that this was no way to dine.

These days her favorite thing was a double cheeseburger and a milk shake in Dean's truck or

one of Dean's amazing stir-fry dinners at the picnic table on the deck.

Dean pulled Jillian into his arms and wrapped her in his warmth. The steel fire pit they'd bought and positioned on the deck was crackling, and flames teased the night sky. A waning moon rose red-orange across the bay.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't get too attached to his fly-by girl, but moments like these were making it difficult. They'd made a deal to enjoy the time they had with complete abandon. They'd certainly done that.