by Helen Conrad
Tears blurred her eyes, making packing difficult, but she managed to get it done. She carried her case downstairs and called a cab. Then she went into the study to say good-bye to Reid.
He was sitting in the gloomy room, smoking and staring out the window at the sunlight on the ocean. She listened for a moment to the steady rush of the waves on the beach and watched the smoke rise in purple spirals from his hand.
“I’m going,” she said at last, and he turned to look at her. “I—I just want to thank you ...”
“Do you need a ride to the airport?” he asked harshly.
“No, I called a cab.”
One eyebrow raised. “None of your playmates could bother to drive you?”
She flushed. “I’d like to part as friends.”
“No.” His eyes darkened stormily. “We can never be friends.” He rose and came to help her carry her bag outside. “It’s been interesting, Jennifer,” he said evenly as they waited for the cab. “You’re a real education.”
She swallowed hard; Tears were stinging, and she didn’t want him to see them. The cab drove up the driveway, and she turned to look at him. “I love you, Reid.” The words were on her lips, but when she tried to get them out, she choked.
“Good-bye,” he said gruffly, turning on his heel and striding back into the house.
She got into the cab and drove away, dissolving into sobs as the car made the bottom of the drive.
It was great to be back at work at The Magnificent Munch. A few days to get back into the routine and it was as if she’d never left. Almost.
“Good to have you back,” said Eddie, satisfaction
glowing in his eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t last with that stick-in-the-mud for long.” -
“I don’t want to talk about Reid,” Jennifer had answered, her eyes flashing dangerously. “The subject is off limits.”
He must have passed the word, because no one else asked her a thing about her weeks away.
The days passed sluggishly at first. Every time she turned around, she thought she saw Reid.
“He’s not coming again, you idiot,” she chided herself. But then the back of a man’s head would catch her eye and she’d rush forward, heart thumping, and find a total stranger staring into her flushed face.
A week went by without a sign of him, then two weeks; finally, her emotions began to simmer down. Dark haired men only gave her a momentary twinge, not near-heart failure, and blue eyes only made her smile, remembering.
She heard from her mother occasionally. They had a good relationship now, a comfortable one, though they’d never have the closeness Jennifer might have wished for. Still, it was fine. They cared about one another, and if her father couldn’t bring himself to forgive—well, that was his problem. Jennifer was ready, should he ever find a way. She was satisfied that she had done all she could to bring about a change of heart. The rest was up to him.
“Reid’s doing fine,” her mother said one Sunday evening. “He took us out for dinner at the club last night. Wasn’t that nice of him? We hadn’t been there since Tony died. Astrid Marvel came along. Such a lovely girl. Did you meet her when you were here?”
The lump in her throat affected her speech, and she had to lie to her mother and claim she was coming down with a cold.
It sounded as though Reid had picked his life right back up where he’d left off before she’d fallen into it. That was good. That was as it should be. But it made her cry.
Her life was pretty much the same as well, with a few major exceptions. She no longer had much interest in the things she used to do. When Eddie and Martha suggested a night on the town, she found a reason to stay home instead. And when she turned down a chance to race power boats off Catalina, Eddie couldn’t believe his ears.
“Come on. Are you sick-—or what?”
She smiled at him. “Just tired. I’ve got some things I want to think over.” He had to be satisfied with that.
In truth she did have things to think over. She was considering applying to the Business Management School at UCLA. They’d done awfully well with The Magnificent Munch, but she knew she had a lot to learn about running a business. And she was anxious to learn all she could.
“Going back to class?” Eddie groaned. “Don’t be ridiculous. How boring!”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say, in an annoyed voice, “Grow up, Eddie,” then she remembered where she’d last heard that.
She enrolled in the extension division. Classes began. Suddenly it had been almost three months since she’d seen Reid. She had survived.
September turned to October, and the evenings got cooler. She had a new reason to keep her home when the others went carousing. She had to study.
She’d used that very excuse one Friday night a week before Halloween. She’d spread her books all over her living room, sharpened her pencils, put out stacks of fresh paper, then stared at a wall, listening to soft jazz on the radio.
News came on. She didn’t want to hear about more terrible things happening in the world, so she turned the dial, searching for something else to listen to. The clearest signal she came to was an oldies station.
She stopped there, listening, a smile on her face. That summer before she’d run away when she was a girl, Reid had listened to an oldies station. She’d listened with him, while he worked on his car, and she’d learned every old song from the fifties and early sixties by heart. That summer feeling came back to her again, that summer of being close to Reid.
She left the station on and sat in the corner of her couch, remembering, feeling. “Tears on My Pillow” and “Only the Lonely” seemed to get right to the heart of her misery. Tears came, but they brought relief. When her buzzer rang, she almost ignored it, not wanting company. But it rang again, and she lifted the receiver.
“What is it, Carl?” she asked the security guard.
“There’s a guy here to see you,” the security guard said, his voice doubtful. “I don’t know, Miss Thornton. He looks a little scruffy to me.”
Scruffy? Even Eddie was into the latest styles these days. She didn’t know anyone who still dressed scruffy. “What name did he give?”
“See,” Carl muttered darkly into the phone, “that’s another thing. He wouldn’t give me any name. He just said, ‘Tell her Golden Boy is here.’ Just like that.”
Jennifer’s breath caught, then came more quickly. “’Golden Boy’?”
“That’s it. What shall I do, Miss Thornton?”
Hope beat like a wild bird in her chest. “Let him up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Let him up! I’m sure!” Her voice had gone up an octave, and she cleared her throat to force-it back down. “I’ll handle him.”
“Well, okay, if you say so.”
She glanced around her messy apartment, thinking she should clean it up, but she couldn’t move. All she could do was sit and stare at the door, waiting, fingers trembling.
It had to be Reid. Why had he come? Just passing through? To see how she was doing? To tell her he was marrying Astrid? A thousand possibilities flew through her mind, and she held her breath, waiting to hear his step outside her door.
When the knock came, she rushed to let him in, flinging open the door and staring out into the hall. For just a moment she couldn’t speak. It was Reid all right. But not the Reid she’d come to love during the last summer. Somehow, this was much more the Reid she’d loved years ago.
His dark hair was sun-tipped and tousled and much longer than it had been a few short months before, curling about his ears and creeping down to touch the edge of his collar. Instead of the crisp slacks and shirts or sweaters she’d grown accustomed to seeing him in, he was wearing an old T-shirt with “Insanity Is a State of Mind” written across it in lurid fluorescent script and raggedy jeans.
Familiar-looking jeans. She stared, then looked again. Did she recognize those patches? The paisley material over one knee, material that had come from her own shirt; the embroider
ed patch over the other knee, flowers that she had worked herself; the large store-bought patch over the back pocket that said, “If Today Was a Fish, I’d Throw It Back.”
Her gaze slowly rose to his eyes. They shimmered, unreadable.
“Hi,” she said tentatively.
“Hi, yourself,” he said back. “May I come in?”
“Oh—sure.” She stood back and watched as he entered. “Where—why—I mean, what are you doing here?”
He turned and gave her his lopsided smile. “Not the most gracious welcome I’ve ever had, but I guess it’ll have to do.”
He looked so good she wanted to take hold of him with both hands, but she didn’t dare. Not yet.
“It’s been a long time,” she said mindlessly.
He nodded, staring at her. Then he turned and began going through her apartment, studying the figures she had displayed on her shelves, looking through her cd’s.
“I suppose you’re busy tonight,” he said with elaborate casualness.
“No . . . no.” She found herself following him around the room. “Actually, I’m staying home to study.”
“Study?” He whirled and stared at her, surprised.
“Yes.” She gestured toward her books. “I’m taking courses at UCLA.”
He digested that bit of information for a long moment. “Courses in what?”
“Business.”
“You’re kidding.”
That did it. Anger kindled in her dark eyes.
“No, Reid, I’m not kidding. I’ve been running a business for a long time now. I want to get better at it, even though I’ve been pretty darn successful. It may be hard for you to believe, but I’m not a total flake.”
He nodded slowly but didn’t speak. Turning, he went back to leafing through her things.
“Well,” he drawled, “I just came by to tell you I’ve got a new address. I’ve moved.”
“Moved?” She frowned. “How can you move? You’re not selling your parents’ house!”
“No”—he shook his head—“but I closed it. I also resigned from the law firm, leaving everything in Dan’s capable hands. I’m going to live down by the embarcadero. A cute little cottage with an ocean view. If you climb up on the roof, anyway.”
“What?”
“Yes, well, you see . ....”. He shoved his hands into the pockets of the old jeans, looking up at her from under his eyebrows, James Dean style, looking so much like the young Reid. “There’s this lady I’ve been in love with for a long, long time. She likes little ramshackle places to live in. As long as there are flowers in the yard.”
Jennifer’s heart was a butterfly, and it was interfering with her breathing. He was talking about her . . . Wasn’t he? But what if he wasn’t?
“Oh, really?” she managed to say.
“Yes. I thought it would be the sort of place that might tempt her to come back to me.”
She opened her mouth and said breathlessly, “That sounds like a good idea.”
He shrugged slightly and turned to look out her window at the city lights.
“Are you and—and this lady going to . . . get together or anything like that?” Get married was what she was really asking, but she didn’t dare say the words.
“I don’t know.” He began moving around the room again, avoiding her eyes. “You see, this lady has never once said that she loved me.”
“What?” Jennifer stopped, in shock. “Oh, that can’t be true.” Was he talking about her? How could he say such a thing?
“It’s true. I don’t know why. I told her I loved her. I asked her to stay with me.” He whirled and stared straight into her eyes. “But she said she couldn’t do that. So I decided to ask again.” He came closer, so close she felt as though she could feel the heat of his body against hers. “But I’m not sure that she wants me because she’s never said she loves me.”
Jennifer swallowed, feeling faint with his closeness. She loved him so much ... surely she’d told him; But when she tried to think of a time when she might have said the words, her mind was a total blank.
“She ought to tell you, then,” she said in a voice that sounded like sandpaper on a rough surface.
He nodded, still holding her gaze. “I wish she would.”
Jennifer swayed. Her heart was beating so loudly she could hardly think. “I don’t know about this crazy lady of yours,” she said hoarsely, “but I love you. Does that help?”
“You?” He raised an eyebrow. “I never knew that.”
“Oh, Reid,” she began, almost sobbing, and then she caught sight of the devil in his eyes. “Reid!” she cried indignantly. “You’re teasing me!”
She came at him with both fists raised, and he caught hold of her, laughing. His arms came around her, holding her tightly.
“Say it again,” he murmured huskily into her curly hair. “If you really mean it, say it again.”
“I love you,” she gasped, reaching up to put her arms around his neck. “I love you, I love you, I love—“
His mouth took hers, stopping the words in her throat, but her kiss underlined the emotion. He was hot and sweet and she was so, so hungry for him. His hands slipped under her sweater, caressing her naked breasts, squeezing gently at the tips, and she made a cry low in her throat, a deep, primeval message of love and need and desire. She reached down to touch him, and in no time they were shedding clothes and rolling on the thick carpeting, too impatient to make it to the bedroom. His plunge sent fireworks arcing through her, and they rose together into the shooting sparks, into the firestorm, then they clung together, laughing weakly and kissing anything that met their lips.
“I love you, I love you . . .”she continued with what he’d interrupted.
“Okay”—he put a finger to her lips—“enough. I believe.”
She searched his gaze. “Do you mean to tell me you really weren’t sure?”
He shrugged. “You never said it.”
She thought for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know why. I sure thought it enough.”
He stroked her hair. “I think you weren’t secure; enough to say it. You didn’t know where we stood.” He kissed her softly. “I love you so much, Jenny darling. I nearly went out of my head when you left me.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
“I thought you’d left because I was smothering you
“Oh, no! That wasn’t it at all. I was afraid I could never be the kind of wife you needed for the life I thought you wanted to lead.”
He nodded. “That was more or less what your mother told me when I finally let her talk to me about it.”
“When was that?”
“Almost a month ago.” His grin was slow and warm. “It takes me awhile to assimilate these things. I had to work up to it slowly. Then I had to settle things so that I could leave.” He sighed, pulling her closer against him. “All the time I wasn’t really sure you would want me when I got here:”
She laughed low in her throat. “I guess I’ve put those questions to rest, haven’t I?” She smiled at him lovingly. “But where do we stand, Reid? Have you really left the law firm for good?”
“Yes.” He traced her features with a gentle fingertip. “I’m going to concentrate on a different type of law. I’m going to help people with real life needs, not corporations and hedge fund managers.”
“Really?” Joy cascaded through her. This really was the old Reid.
Then she frowned. “But are you sure you’ll be happy? I couldn’t become a country club lady, no matter how hard I tried. What if you can’t be—“
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. And I’ve already begun with my first client.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I’m helping Mickey find a way to get Kevin enough satisfaction so that he will leave Meggie alone. The visitations have all been cancelled.”
“Oh. Wow. That’s wonderful!”
“And she told me she’d talked to you about opening a branch of the Magnific
ent Munch in her vacant store front.”
She stared at him. Was he going to make all her dreams come true? “Do you really think we could do that?”
“Sure. Now that you’ve got a good lawyer.”
She laughed and kissed him.
He rolled onto his back and looked up at her. “See, this is what I want to talk to you about. All along, we’ve looked at this as an either/or choice. You were at one end of the spectrum, living wild and free, while I was at the other, immersed in upper-middle-class society.”
She nodded slowly. That had seemed to be the range they had to choose from.
He smiled at her. “But it occurred to me as I was thinking about it over the last few weeks that I don’t really want either one of those life-styles. And I don’t think you do either.”
She went very still. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Oh Jenny, Jenny,” he said lovingly. “We don’t need the wild parties, the dangerous stunts, the crazy characters, and we don’t need the hoity-toity country club scene. We’ve both tried those things. Maybe we’re finally ready for reality. Something a little more down to earth.”
“Such as?” She thought she knew where he was headed, and a grin began to grow on her pretty face.
“Such as—think of this: a woman and a man, a little house, a fireplace with a roaring fire, a dog, the patter of little feet.”
She reached down and licked his earlobe. “Little dog feet?” she teased.
“No.” He batted at her and caught her around the neck. “Little human feet. The kind that come attached to a head full of curls and a wide milk mustache.”
His warmth crept through her, nurturing her soul. She’d never felt so toasty and loved before. Suddenly she remembered Nita, the little girl who’d been lost in the washroom next to the freeway. Her family had been poor, but when Jennifer had brought their little girl home, the wealth of their family feeling had shone in their eyes.
That was what Jennifer wanted, what she’d always wanted. A family—a real, loving family, where everyone cared and no one felt like an outsider. Now she knew, without a doubt, that she and Reid could have that together. Like a gift from heaven, it was in her hands. She had only to hold it to her heart.
