Chapter 11
It was mid-December. A time of year Joshua already loathed. He felt as though he'd spent the past weeks living in a vacuum. Everywhere he looked, Christmas glowed and shimmered. Every store window blazed with red and green.
He closed his eyes and could see her. Those big brown eyes sparkling, that sweet, succulent mouth just waiting… In his mind, he could hear Jessie's throaty laughter. He could smell fresh peaches. Aw, hell.
All he could think of was Jessie. Jessie mischievously wearing a crown of holly. Jessie laughing up at him before welcoming him home. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie.
Jessie loved holidays. Christmas was her favorite. The story about her dream book had almost broken his damn heart when she'd told it. All those carefully cutout pictures from newspapers and magazines. All those unfulfilled dreams and wishes.
If any of that had been true. He'd convinced himself that even that had been part and parcel of her lies. She'd wanted that damn baby. She hadn't had a change of heart. She'd planned and executed her attack with the finesse of a general. Her weapons were state-of-the-art, old as Eve, and had almost worked. God, she had been furious when he'd told her he'd had the vasectomy. Furious!
He didn't want to think about Jessie. The fact that this time of year would forever remind him of her pissed him off even more.
He depressed the button to open the gates to the estate, dreading the dark and empty house. He was glad he'd invited Simon over for drinks before they went out to dinner tonight.
He'd hardly seen Simon since he'd met Jessie. He liked his uncle's company, even when he knew the older man was doing something to manipulate him. Well, tonight he'd tell Simon in no uncertain terms that Jessie was definitely a conversation topic that was off-limits. They'd have a few drinks, get a meal and life would get back to normal.
He'd given most of the servants the month off. He was sick of the dark, accusing looks from his staff. They had adored her. To them, he was the villain of the piece. He should tell them about the miracle conception.
Since Jessie had left him, he was getting used to coming home to a dark house. He'd become accustomed to Jessie waiting inside for him. She'd have had every light in the place on in welcome. He didn't even want to think about her warm smile or her comforting arms. The house she had briefly made into a home was now a house again, a place he dreaded entering.
Well, he'd been fine without her before, and he'd be fine again. He didn't need her.
His fingers tightened convulsively around the leather steering wheel. Traitorous little witch. He'd narrowly missed making a complete fool of himself. The tabloid press had already made mincemeat of her. A calendar girl who couldn't even cut the full twelve months. Speculation ran rampant. Joshua ignored it as he always did. It was the job of his public relations team to control what was in the press, only bringing to his attention anything needing his immediate input.
In this instance Joshua turned a blind eye, instructing the PR people to do nothing to stop the innuendo and speculation. He didn't give a damn what happened to her. Jessie had made her bed. Now she would have to lie in it. He didn't even care who she lay in it with.
He wanted to believe she had been nothing but a brief interlude. Quickly forgotten. But the reality was she'd sure as hell changed his life. Never again would he have a mistress for a set period. God, he already felt like a hermit. Sex was the last thing on his mind.
She'd even ruined that for him.
He planned to spend the holidays in London this year, and had no intention of telling his friends and business associates there that he was even in the country. Part of him regretted giving her the house in Tahoe. She wouldn't even let him dislike the holidays in his usual location.
It started to rain. A fine depressing mist coated the bare branches of the trees, bowing down the shrubs in the long beds as Joshua pulled the Jag up to the front door. He should change his plans and go somewhere sunny instead, he decided, sprinting up the curved front steps and unlocking the door. Somewhere hot and clean.
Somewhere he'd never been with Jessie.
The first thing that struck him as the front door closed behind him was the smell. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.
Obviously he'd gone over the edge. The house was completely empty, yet he smelled a strong scent of pine and cinnamon and the pleasant aroma of apple wood burning.
Joshua tossed his overcoat over the table in the entry hall and strode down the hallway to his den. And came to a dead stop, his eyes narrowing.
The Christmas tree took up the entire corner by the windows. Brilliant with small white lights, glittering with gold and green and shiny red, the smell permeated the room. In the enormous fireplace, a fire blazed, sending up sparks of blue and orange, which reflected off the packages piled haphazardly beneath the tree. A plate of home-made ******s sat beside the crystal decanters on the drinks trolley.
Jessie.
Joshua's heart took up a frantic rhythm. He drew in a breath as if he were dying.
Jessie was home.
He flexed his still sore right hand. Fool. If she were here he'd kick her out in about two seconds. He didn't need her, and he sure as hell didn't want Christmas, this year more than any other. Damn her.
"Jessie!" He spun away from the room, storming like a demented fool through the empty, quiet house, shouting her name. Everywhere he looked were signs that Jessie had come.
And gone.
Crazed, he threw open doors to unused rooms, banging through closets. His bedroom carried a trace of her scent, but no Jessie. Her side of the closet still held her clothes. Every damn dress he had given her. He slammed the door shut to block out the scent of peaches and Joy and loneliness.
He was enraged at her intrusion. Just when he'd gotten over her. Damn her. How dare she just walk into his house and destroy what little peace of mind he'd found?
The image of his Jessie, big with another man's child pressed against his synapses. Would that picture ever go away? Or would it be replayed with one of Jessie holding the other man's child to her breast?
Joshua went back downstairs. His jaw ached and he realized how hard he was gritting his teeth. She had done this to torment him. He wouldn't allow it Slipping back into his controlled and more manageable persona, Joshua poured a stiff brandy. Trying to show his appreciation for the 1884 Bas Armee, he ignored the tantalizing scent of fresh-baked ******s.
He took the drink with him, staring down at the presents beneath the tree. A green felt cloth, sprinkled with what looked like gold dust, lay like a blanket over something long and curved. Pinned to it was a note.
Joshua crouched down; his fingers trembled slightly as he slipped the note off the fabric.
"Suspend disbelief," she'd written. "Pretend you are seven years old and you've just come downstairs Christmas morning." Joshua closed his burning eyes for a moment. "I can't be part of your future. I've only been a small part of your present. I wanted to give you back something of your past." She hadn't signed the note.
"Damn it, Jessie." He took a deep gulp of Armagnac.
He carefully removed the cloth then sucked in a breath. It was a train. Perfect in every detail. The Lionel engine, black and shiny, was followed by the coal tender. Behind it freight cars and flatcars carried smaller presents.
The train disappeared behind the sudden mist in his eyes. Joshua sank to his knees, blinking rapidly. Joshua flicked up the on switch. The train started with a whistle and a moment later a puff of smoke rose from the stack. A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. It hurt deep inside him.
She had arranged the track around the room, under the desk, around the chairs and tables. Joshua watched it for almost half an hour, clearing his mind. He had no idea why she'd done it. He didn't want to be charmed.
He stood to refill his glass, absently taking the plate of ******s back to his vantage spot on the floor. Biting into a ******, he closed his eyes, listening to the clack-clack of tiny wheels on small tracks. He would have given his soul to own this train at seven.
Jessie had remembered.
Jessie who had never received a present until she turned twenty-one. Jessie who'd never owned a toy until she was an adult. Jessie who had never asked him for a damned thing.
A small package slipped from a car as it passed his knee.
With trepidation Joshua opened it. Inside was a red Duncan yo-yo. The next package was marbles. The next a Swiss Army Knife. Blue.
Each gift represented something he'd wanted as a child. He opened a gaily wrapped package from under the tree and found the flannel shirt she had promised him in Tahoe. The next box contained a brown bomber jacket.
He tugged off his suit jacket and slipped his arms into the sleeves, smelling leather and a faint, faint trace of Jessie. He slipped his hand into the pocket to pull out the long white silk scarf. She'd heard every secret his heart had revealed and made them come true. She hadn't forgotten anything.
He sat back as the brandy warmed his insides and the fire caressed his skin. He picked up a throw pillow off the couch. It still carried her scent. "Damn you," he seethed, crushing the pillow to his chest. As always the scent of her aroused him. He groaned deep in his chest.
"Damn you to hell," he said. After all, she had sent him there.
He viewed the dozens of precious gifts and mounds of wrapping paper that lay around him, as his train made another circuit of the room. He'd wanted all these things as a child. And Jessie had given them to him. Twenty-seven years later.
As the train continued its route about the room Joshua reached for the last gift beneath the tree. It was a narrow, flat box wrapped in gold paper with an iridescent red ribbon. This gift had been buried beneath all the others, almost behind the tree trunk.
Joshua sipped at his drink. He wanted to believe everything that had happened in his office had been a bad dream. That Jessie had never betrayed him. That Jessie was going to walk in any moment, her liquid eyes loving him, laughing that throaty laugh of hers.
The presents were so typical of her, so unexpectedly right. She knew him so damned well—which was why she had been able to sneak under his defenses and render him senseless.
No. Make that stupid.
He turned the last package over in his hand. His fingers twitched against the bow. He frowned as he looked down to see his thumb caressing the silky gold paper. He felt ridiculously reluctant to open this last gift of Jessie's. As if by not knowing what it was, he could keep her here in the room with him for just a few more minutes.
Why the hell did almost everything that woman did have to charm him so? His gaze lingered on the piles of shiny paper tossed about the room. Had she meant for him to do more than 'suspend disbelief' for the minutes it had taken to open her presents? Had Jessie imagined he was fool enough to believe that bullshit about both the birth control and his vasectomy not working?
The bitterness of gall filled him. He, a man who never vacillated, never had a moment of indecision or ambivalence, was suddenly filled with the most serious of doubts.
More than anything he wanted to believe Jessie's ridiculous story. He shifted from anger to agony in the blink of an eye. It hurt to breathe. He felt as though he were slowly dying without her. Joshua dashed another three fingers of brandy into his glass and tossed it down his throat.
Gasping for air, he waited a moment for the moisture from the alcohol-induced tears to leave his eyes before he glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. The last thing he needed right now was company. Did he have time to call off the evening he'd planned with Simon? Not unless he caught his uncle on the car phone, and what the hell would he use as an excuse?
I came home and Jessie had been here. If I close my eyes I can smell her. She left me every present I'd ever wanted in my life. The box in his right hand cut into his palm. And she took away something I never knew I wanted… until I met her.
He shifted in an attempt to ease the uncomfortable tightness in his chest and leaned against the edge of his desk. He was no romantic fool. The arrangement with Jessie was no different than he'd had with numerous other women. Jessie's premature departure was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"Yeah, right!" Joshua said out loud as the engine whistled and emitted small puffs of smoke. He closed his eyes. The box in his hand crumpled along the edge as his fingers tightened.
The wind picked up outside, clicking small branches annoyingly against the windows. While he had been sitting on the floor playing like a child, darkness had touched the sky and darkened the room. He hadn't bothered with lights. From beneath the chair across the room he could see the narrow beam of the headlight on his train. That small beam, the amber glow of the dying fire, and the little white lights twinkling on Jessie's tree provided enough light.
Joshua put the empty snifter on the desk, then went over to the fire to open the last gift before Simon arrived.
The paper crackled before revealing its delicious secret. The thought made him smile. Just as Jessie had intended, no doubt.
He took the Swiss Army knife Jessie had given him out of his pocket, stroked the smooth plastic with his thumb, then opened the blade and cut the tape.
Sitting on his haunches before the fire, Joshua carefully removed a sheet of paper from inside the box. The paper smelled of Jessie and it took him a moment to open the single fold.
"Joshua," she wrote. "Please forgive me for what I have done to you. Simon and Felix only kept their silence because I begged them not to tell you."
The paper rustled in his hand. What the hell did Felix and Simon have to do with this?
"I never meant to lie to you, but I wanted a baby so badly. I must admit I would have done almost anything in my power to achieve my goal. I erroneously believed I would conceive immediately. I never for a moment thought that I weald fall in love. I think even after I changed my mind about getting pregnant, I subconsciously knew I could never make you love me. There were so many times we were in such a hurry I forgot all about protection."
Yeah. Right!
"I wish I could have been there to love and protect you when you were a child, but since I wasn't, I hope the presents will mean something to you."
"I understand, with your deep mistrust of women, why you didn't believe me about our baby. I know you have been lied to about this before. But the fact remains—we did make this baby together."
Sure, Jessie.
"I know you never want to see me again. I am so sorry for causing you pain."
There were wet splotches blurring the writing. Tears of course.
If you change your mind… we'll be waiting. If not, then I hope eventually you will be able to forgive me and find a love of your own."
"I will love you forever and a day."
"Your Jessie."
He was tempted to toss the box and its *******s into the fire. He'd had enough. She had managed to reduce him to idiot status with the gifts as it was. The band tightened around his chest, just where his heart should have been.
Damn it, Jessie.
The box contained several items. Joshua rose and turned on the desk light so he could see everything more clearly. He couldn't take much more. He wanted to dispense with this last gift before his uncle came in.
It was hard for him to breathe as he opened the next folded piece of paper. Joshua frowned, rotating his shoulder. What the hell… ? It was a credit slip from Tiffany's in San Francisco. What had Jessie done? Returned all the jewelry he'd given her? It didn't make sense. Stapled to the back of it was a similar receipt, informing him that the rest of the jewelry was at his lawyer's office for safekeeping.
He held on to it for a few moments before setting it on the desk. He was suddenly dying for another drink, but his feet couldn't have moved across the room right then if he'd tried. Intrigued, he flipped open the next document. What the… ?
A cashier's check… for over six million dollars? Where on earth had Jessie got this sort of money? And why was she giving it to him?
He removed a trifolded legal document from Jessie's Pandora's box. It looked well-worn, folded many times as if it had been opened and read many times. Light reflected off a shiny square stapled to the top right-hand corner. His eyes scanned down to the signature at the bottom of the page. He stared for a confused moment at the petition for dissolution of marriage.
He frowned, absently tilting the shiny square to the light. It was a Polaroid picture. A picture of a gangly young girl with wiry orange hair and huge brown eyes, filled with anticipation.
The pain came so suddenly it knocked him to his knees It ballooned in his chest making Joshua grimace and squeeze his eyes shut as he staggered back against the desk. The red wave washed over him leaving him shaken and breathless. Sweat slicked his skin.
Jessie had managed to do what she'd planned all along. Not ******* with ripping out his heart, she had managed to induce a heart attack instead.
Headlights swung up the drive. Too far away. Too late.
Joshua snagged the phone, cradling his left arm against his chest. He managed to hit speed dial.
"Hi, this is Jessie. I can't come to the phone right now… "
A firebomb exploded in his chest. Like flame it shot down his arm.
The receiver dropped from his nerveless fingers. It clattered onto the moving engine and then fell to the carpet with a dull thud. Dimly he heard the whistle of the train as its wheels spun uselessly. Then his pulse thundered in his ears blocking out everything else.
The phone. Had to… 911… call… pain… Oh, God. This was it… had to… had… Black snow swirled, his vision dimmed and he felt himself falling into a dark hole.
"J-Jessieee."
* * * * *
"You're damned lucky," Simon said from his seat beside Joshua's hospital bed.
"I'm fine. It was only a severe anxiety attack." Joshua grimaced, feeling ridiculous.
"It could have been a heart attack. The doctor said it was a warning to slow down."
"Yeah. It certainly had that effect." Joshua moved restlessly beneath the covers, his long legs uncomfortable in the too short bed. "Thanks for getting there in time to help, Simon."
"You scared the hell out of me when I found you. Thank God, I remembered I had a key. When I saw you lying there you were so still, and your lips were turning blue. Hell, boy, I almost had a heart attack seeing you like that." Simon got up to pace. Joshua envied him his mobility. They had stuck all sorts of monitoring tubes into him.
Simon ran a hand through his white hair. "You do what they tell you, you hear? They said twenty-four hours' observation and you'd better comply. I have every intention of going before you do, so don't screw up my plans. Understand?"
Joshua shifted restlessly under the covers before reaching over and removing something from the bedside drawer.
"Explain this to me while I wait," he demanded, his jaw tensing. The machine beside the bed beeped.
"What's th—? Oh. Jessie's divorce papers."
Joshua closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. The monitor beside the bed emitted several high-pitched, nurse-alerting beeps. She bustled into the room, tsk-tsking, and warned him to take it easy. She took his pulse, straightened sheets and generally annoyed Joshua further. Simon gave him a warning look.
The moment the woman left Joshua said coldly, "Simon? An explanation."
"She said she was going to give you the darn thing. Well, there you have it. Jessie's divorcing you."
"Hard to do since we were never married," he said, needing to hear Simon confirm what he suspected.
"Jessie is Vera, son."
The monitor emitted a series of beeps. "It's true then."
Simon nodded slowly.
Joshua sat up against the metal headboard ignoring the tape tugging painfully at his skin from his movement. "Are you telling me that you knew all along that Jessie was Vera? All these years when you casually mentioned the new decorator Conrad and Archie were training, you knew who she was?" He winced as he pulled the needle from the back of his hand.
"Got her the job, myself." Simon stared, fascinated, as Joshua ripped another tape and needle combo off his skin. "Do you know what you're doing?"
"Obviously not." Joshua grimaced as a bead of blood welled on his hand. He looked up at his uncle. "Jesus, Simon. Whose side were you on?"
"You married that poor child and walked out on her without even taking the time to learn her name. She became part of the family that day—someone had to help her. Felix and I took her under our wing. It was the least we could do."
Joshua swore. He tossed aside the blankets, swung his feet to the cold floor and stood up.
"Where do you think you're going?" Simon asked, alarmed.
"There's something I have to do. Then I'm coming back to finish off you and Felix." Joshua slammed drawers. "But first I have to find my clothes."
"She always was a grasping little bitch," Simon said mildly, watching his nephew with penetrating blue eyes. Another drawer slammed.
"Don't call her a bitch," Joshua warned through clenched teeth. "Aha." He found his shoes, then his socks. Why the hell couldn't they keep everything together?
"Grasping."
"Jessie never asked me for a thing, Simon."
"Selfish, then. All women are."
Joshua opened the wardrobe and removed the rest of his clothing. "Jessie is the most generous, kindhearted woman I've ever met." For a moment his hands were filled with brown leather and the mingling scents of Jessie and unfulfilled needs. He tossed the jacket on the rumpled bed.
"Incapable of loving a man, though."
"Bull." Joshua pulled on underwear and stood to fasten his pants. "Jessie is filled with love."
"All she wanted was expensive presents. That's what they all want."
"Jessie didn't want presents."
"Wanted the notoriety of being with Joshua Falcon in public. Liked the Lear, I bet."
"No." Joshua slipped on his shirt. "She didn't care much for the Lear. She said she preferred the commercial flights because the people were so damn interesting." He buckled his belt and looked on the bed for his socks.
"Well, hell," Simon pushed. "A mistress should know her place. She should have taken pride in the fact she belonged to you, darn her." Simon glanced at Joshua from beneath heavy lids.
"A woman doesn't belong to a man like a dog, Simon."
"No? Well, I don't see why she was humiliated when the gutter press labeled her your 'Calendar Girl.' Hell, she knew it was only for twelve months."
"Ten." Joshua plopped down to pull on socks and shoes.
"Couldn't go the distance, could she? She didn't even have to put in a full year to reap the benefits."
Joshua searched his pockets. "There were no benefits, Simon. Jessie gave it all back. Hell, the only way I could give her jewelry was to tell her it was fake."
Simon hooted. "And you believed that, son? Hell, a woman can spot a cubic zirconium at forty paces. A clever ploy, no doubt. Women can be very conniving. We men have to watch ourselves. God forbid we give them an inch."
"Give it up, Simon. I know what you're trying to do."
Simon sighed before rising. He gave Joshua a hard look. "Jessie's the best thing to happen to you in your life." Simon turned his back to stare out the window. He watched Joshua in the reflection before he turned around again. "Don't let what your father did with his marriages mark your life. You could change that pattern, Joshua."
"Jessie is a fine woman. She has spunk and backbone and as much integrity as you do—and more love in her than a man could use up in three lifetimes. How could any man be so damn stupid as to let her slip through his fingers?"
"Well, hell," Joshua said caustically, feeling the sting of his uncle's displeasure added to fats own guilt. "Excuse me for being human!"
"We'll discuss your alleged species later, in the meantime what are you going to do about Jessie?"
"What the hell am I supposed to do? She hit me with a one-two punch to the groin."
"Are you sure it wasn't your heart?"
"I doubt she thinks I have one." Joshua slipped the folded piece of paper off the bedside table into the pocket of his jacket. "Didn't I have my wallet when they brought me in?"
"In the nightstand," Simon said absently. "You haven't lost a thing. Jessie gave up everything for you. She gave up a job she'd trained for and loved. She gave up most of her friends. She remained at your beck and call even when you didn't—beck or call, that is." Simon heaved a weary sigh as he rose from his chair. "Tell me, Joshua, have you ever considered what being your mistress does to a woman like Jessie?"
Joshua eyed Simon, who looked as old as he felt at the moment, but said nothing.
"As men, have we ever considered what it must be like when everyone knows the woman we're with is only temporary? Not good enough to have them stick around. Patti pounded into my head how a woman feels. I tell you, son. It stinks. They're forever scorned and pitied. The trash magazines tear their guts out for public consumption. And we turn around and start hunting for the next woman before they even know we're done with them, oblivious to the carnage we leave behind."
"I've never treated Jessie that way."
"Asked yourself why?"
Joshua gave the older man a penetrating look. "I've thought about it." His tone was grim. "In the past weeks, I've thought of little else."
"Well then?"
Joshua stared at his uncle. "You want this for her very badly, don't you?"
"I want this very badly for both of you, son. But mostly for you because, I have to tell you, I believe Jessie could limp along with her life without you. But I don't believe you're going to manage much of a life without her."
"She's pregnant."
"Congratulations."
"The child isn't mine."
"Don't be absurd. Of course it is."
"I had a vasectomy years ago."
Simon shook his head. "It wouldn't be the first time nature won over a surgeon's knife. If you have doubts, check it out. Hell, you're already here. When you're finished, ask your doctor for a refund."
Joshua sank down on the side of the bed. "Jesus, you crafty bastard, haven't I gone through enough humiliation for one day?" Simon smiled. "Guess not."
* * * * *
Jessie sat in her car looking at the diner. This is where it had all begun. The beginning of the end. Rain sluiced down her windshield, blurring the lights. The whop-whop-whop of the wipers was starting to get on her nerves.
A sharp white spear of lightning illuminated the sky: thunder rumbled overhead. Perfect, just perfect. The cold desolation squeezed around her heart, and she choked on the lump in her throat.
Her eyes were dry, but still burning from the last bout of tears, as she got out of her car. Bareheaded, she made a mad dash for the door. The familiar smell of grease and pine cleaner assailed her on the way to a back booth. She removed her damp raincoat and glanced around. Half a dozen customers, most of them truckers, occupied the adjacent booths.
A young family sat at the counter. Mother, father and two cute toddlers. Jessie stroked her hand down her tummy and gave the little girl a smile. The child played peekaboo over the back of her chair until her mother reprimanded her, making her turn around to eat.
Jessie enjoyed the momentary distraction. A gum-chewing waitress rounded the counter and asked if she wanted coffee. She ordered food she wasn't hungry for, then stared morosely at the scratched beige Formica tabletop.
For the past few weeks she'd stayed in a hotel in San Jose. She hadn't wanted anyone to know where she was until she'd figured out what she was going to do, and where she was going to go.
Joshua Falcon's reach was long and deadly. The rational part of her mind told her to move to another galaxy far, far away. Unfortunately, she wasn't that smart. She had other plans.
Her heart did a one-two thump. Anger would have been wonderfully cathartic, but she had no right to it. Other than the way it had been delivered, everything Joshua had said in his office had been true. From his point of view.
She didn't have a leg to stand on. Her pain, however, despite knowing she'd asked for it, was very real. She'd always prided herself on taking responsibility for her own actions. She was one-hundred percent responsible for her own broken heart. Joshua had never lied to her.
The waitress set down the special. Jessie poured a blob of ketchup on the plate beside the fries. She had wanted this baby. She wasn't sorry about any of it. She waved a fry in the red blob before biting it in half.
She'd taken a chance on love. And lost.
Until the next round.
If she was mad at anyone, it was herself. For believing she could change a man so set in his ways. The Glacier. Rock hard and implacable. Slow to melt. So accustomed to a woman's betrayal, Jessie ached for him.
She sipped the industrial-strength coffee as she glanced around. So much had changed in her life since she'd last been here. It was strange to see everything had remained the same at the diner. The same dusty plastic plants hung from the yellowed ceiling. The same rips marred the same vinyl seats. The same cheap tacky Christmas decorations sprouted haphazardly about the place.
Jessie sighed. At least there were some constants in life.
She glanced at her watch then looked out the rain-sprinkled window. She squinted against the bright flash of lightning that illuminated the almost empty lot. She waited for the thunder but the whop-whop-whop outside sounded more like her aged windshield wipers.
She ate two more fries, eyed the greasy battered fish, then picked up the fork and swam the cod through a ketchup sea.
It was very late, well after ten. Jessie wondered what time Joshua had arrived home tonight or if he was even in the country. What had his reaction been to the tree and gifts? God, she hoped it softened him a little, made what she'd done a little easier to take. With Joshua it was impossible to guess how he'd react.
She'd give him twenty-four hours to digest everything, then she'd use whatever it took to make him see he loved her, too.
Wherever he was, he'd better be alone. Jessie straightened. It was early for mistress number… whatever, but Joshua had been angry enough to ignore his own calendar.
Jessie rested her cheek on her hand and closed her eyes as pain swamped her. She couldn't bear thinking of him with another woman. She'd promised herself she would never read another paper or watch tabloid TV ever again. She couldn't stand the thought of Joshua kissing another woman.
Beneath her fingers she felt the warmth of her cup as it was refilled. "Thanks." Jessie wondered what the waitress thought of her sitting here mumbling to herself and opened her eyes.
Unless waitress attire had drastically changed since she'd worked here, someone else had poured her coffee. Jessie's heart leaped to her throat. Wishing, and not daring to hope, she kept her eyes on the pair of size twelve Haas shoes beside the table. She heard the creak of leather.
"Jessie."
The familiar voice sent a shock wave through her. She slowly lifted her gaze. He looked exhausted, but gloriously handsome. His dark hair was disheveled. He wore jeans and the brown bomber jacket over his red Tahoe shirt. He handed the coffeepot he'd commandeered back to the waitress and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Have you stopped having evening sickness?"
She swallowed hard, gripping her coffee mug with both hands because she wanted to touch him so badly. "Yes. I feel wonderful now."
Joshua sank into the seat opposite, his eyes fixed on her face.
"How did you find me?" She couldn't tell by his somber expression what he was thinking.
"I leaned on Conrad and Archie. They told me you were on your way up to the cabin. Then I hopped the helicopter. I had a feeling you'd stop here."
Jessie looked out at the parking lot. Amazingly, a black, silver and burgundy Falcon helicopter was parked next to her car.
"I wanted to go to the cabin one more time." Jessie's eyes stung. Not now, damn it. "I was going to mail the deed back to you next week."
He took her hand, his eyes grave. "I wanted you to have it." Joshua's fingers tightened around hers. "Damn it Jessie." His voice was tight. "This isn't what I came up here to discuss." He ran his splayed fingers through his hair.
It stood up in shark fins. Jessie stared.
"If you came for more apologies, you have them." She tried to pull her hand away, but he used both hands to hold her in place. She gave him a pointed look. "But I won't apologize into infinity."
"I don't want apologies."
"I can't handle… What do you want, Joshua?"
"I want you to marry me."
Jessie squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them the look she gave him was cool. "I don't blame you for wanting to hurt me because of the lies I told you. But please," she started to rise and he held her firmly in place, his hands warm around hers, "please, don't taunt me."
Jessie bit the inside of her lip to keep it from trembling. Her eyes filled with the annoying tears that still plagued her. She stared out the window, willing her eyes to dry.
"Mommy? How come that man's kneeling down by the lady?" The sweet piping voice of the child at the counter brought the noise in the diner to an abrupt silence.
"Turn around, honey. It's rude to stare."
Jessie turned as the child was forced to look away by her mother.
"Marry me. For real. Forever, Jessie." Joshua's voice was so low she had to strain to hear him.
Hope leaped in her heart. She opened her eyes slowly. Joshua was on one knee, head bowed, beside her. "Oh God, Joshua." Jessie's sob caught in her throat. "Please, don't." She couldn't bear to see him so humbled.
He looked straight into her eyes. His were sheened and his jaw clenched. "Be my wife, Jessie." His voice had an almost imperceptible break in it. "Please."
She reached out and touched his face. His skin felt chilled.
His hand covered hers. "Say yes."
"Get up, please."
"Say yes first."
"We have to talk," Jessie said desperately, not allowing hope to bloom. "There are so many things we haven't sai—"
He rose and put two fingers across her mouth. "Shhh. We have a lifetime to say all the things we want to say." He sank into the seat opposite, his eyes fixed on her face.
She tasted blood as she chewed the inside of her lip. Life was hard enough on a child. She would never subject the baby to a father who didn't love it wholeheartedly.
"It's Thursday," he said, his lips twitching slightly as Jessie looked at him blankly. "Remember? You told me once you only married strangers on Thursdays." He picked up her hand, toying with her fingers. Jessie felt the electricity of his touch down to her toes.
"That was a lifetime ago," Jessie whispered, stunned he'd remembered. "So much has happened in between—"
"Yes. I finally grew up." He sounded impatient with himself. "I should have held on to you then, Jessie. We could have had those seven years together if I hadn't been such an insensitive ass."
"You were my knight in shining armor," Jessie told him quietly, her fingers gripping his. His gaze was so serious as he scanned her face.
"A pretty damn tarnished knight." His lips twisted. "I allowed what my mother and Stacie had done to me to color my emotions. And, like a fool, I almost lost the best thing to happen in my life." He tilted her chin with his finger. "Can you ever forgive my transgressions, Jess?"
"You know I have." A hot wash of tears bathed her cheeks. Her stomach churned as she fought the impulse to throw herself into his arms.
"Ah, Jessie." He leaned forward and dabbed the tears spilling down her cheeks with her napkin. "I went home late yesterday afternoon," he said, turning the napkin to a dry corner. His pale eyes remained fixed on her. "I was dreading going into that damn cold, dark house one more time. Ready, in fact to put it on the market. You were everywhere, Jess. Everywhere and in everything. Everywhere I looked, everything I heard, everything I tasted and smelled."
"And I realized I could sell all my houses, the yachts, the planes, it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. Because no matter where I was, no matter what I did, you would always be there with me. In my heart."
She stared at him wide-eyed, her heart in some kind of weird time warp. Too terrified to believe what he was saying. And just as terrified not to.
"I opened each of the presents you gave me and I wondered who had taught you to be so loving. Who had shown you how heart-achingly wonderful a loving touch could be. Not your mother. Not a man."
He dropped the soggy napkin and reached in his pocket, then withdrew his handkerchief and resumed blotting her tears. "I realized, almost too late, that what you were giving me was what you had always craved for yourself. Tenderness, caring, trust and unconditional love."
She wanted to say something, anything. But her heart seemed to have stopped beating. The world, her world, had paused on its axis.
Again Joshua reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out an envelope, then laid a small blue box on the table between them.
"I love you, Jessie Adams. I might be a slow learner, but when I've learned the lesson, I assure you, I never forget. I can't imagine my life without you. Please, remarry me and put me out of this misery."
Jessie stared down at the box with blurred vision.
He nudged it closer.
"What about the baby?" She took his hankie from him and wiped her cheeks. He gave her that smile she loved, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes, and pushed an envelope across the table.
"And I love our baby."
"You don't believe she is your baby," she reminded him, forgetting how to breathe.
"It's… a she? She is my baby, Jessie. If she's part of you, then it's part of me." He smiled. "Do you know what a good father does for his children?"
Jessie could think of a thousand things. She shook her head.
"The best thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother."
Jessie's chest ached.
She dabbed her eyes with the hankie again. "I'll be glad when my hormones get back to normal," she said waspishly. "I hate all this crying in front of you."
He smiled. "You can do anything you like in front of me, Jess."
"What's in the envelope?"
"Open it and see." He took a sip of her coffee. "Only you would be more interested in the envelope than the jewelry box."
She gave him a look before she opened the small velvet box. "This is definitely real." The diamond was not ostentatious, just exquisitely beautiful, surrounded by baguettes, in a simple gold setting. She pushed it across the table and stuck out her left hand. "Put it on quickly," she demanded.
Joshua laughed. Coming around to her side of the table he eased her against the window. She closed her eyes as his fingers threaded through her hair. She tilted her mouth. Then he kissed her. Softly and leisurely and with every fiber of love he could muster. She felt giddy when he let her up for air.
The few patrons of the restaurant applauded and Joshua made a big production of sliding the ring on her finger. His gaze devoured her face before lowering to rest on her tummy.
"God, Jess," he said breathlessly, one hand reverently touching her through her thick sweater. When he finally looked up, his eyes had filled with tears.
"I love you, Joshua Falcon."
"I know you do, Jessie. And I plan to spend the rest of my life cherishing you. There'll never be a day you won't know how much I love you in return."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely, un*****ocally, and positively." He pushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Are you going to open this?" he asked, his arm around her. He nudged the envelope closer.
"Is it important?"
"No. Just a small test I had."
"What kind of test?"
"Sperm count."
She looked at the sealed opening.
"And you haven't opened it?"
"The results make no difference to me, I told you that."
"And you'll marry me again and love the baby no matter what that piece of paper says?"
"Without a moment's hesitation," he assured her.
Jessie handed the envelope back to him. "You open it."
"It makes no—"
"Open it."
She watched as he slit the envelope open with his Swiss Army knife, unfolded the single sheet and scanned the test results.
"Well?" She raised an eyebrow.
"It says—" Joshua swallowed roughly and looked at Jessie with his heart in his eyes. "It says you are marrying an idiot who adores you, and that we'll live happily ever after, and have at least two more children."
Jessie felt the smile blossoming from her heart. "I love a happy ending, don't you?"
--The End--
26-08-08, 04:08 PM
Chapter 10
جديد مواضيع قسم الارشيف
العرض العادي
