by Amii Lorin
"Where you afraid—or hoping—my plane had gone down over the Pacific?" he drawled.
The atmosphere between them was decidedly cool for several days.
Her mother had promptly invited him to dinner, and over their after-dinner coffee Adam said smoothly, "Oh, by the way, darling, I saw mother while I was away, and she sends you her love, her regrets, and her promise of a fabulous wedding gift as soon as she gets back to the States."
Adam had informed them that first night that none of his family could make the wedding as they were all out of the country. At Jen's raised eyebrows and look of surprise, he'd explained that his mother was overseas on an extended leave of absence. He had then explained to her parents that his father and brother were permanent residents of Japan.
The ruffled waters between Adam and Jen smoothed out enough so that by rehearsal time—the night before the wedding—they were even smiling at each other again.
Jen's wedding day dawned pink and beautiful, and by the time Jen's brother-in-law placed the stereo arm on "Here Comes the Bride," the sky was a sunshine-spattered, cloud-free blue.
Everything was perfect and went off like clockwork. The ceremony at eleven. The allotted thirty minutes for picture taking directly after the knot was tied. The announcement of luncheon being served at eleven forty-five, thereby allowing two hours and forty-five minutes for Jen and Adam to be duly toasted, have some lunch, cut the cake, and circulate among their guests before slipping inside to change and leave in time to make their plane, destination unknown to all but Adam and Jen.
Following the game plan like a well-trained soldier, Jen looked around for Adam at two twenty-five. When he was obviously not in the crush in the yard or at the bar, she headed for the house. On opening the screen door to go in she encountered Vicki on her way out.
"If you're looking for Adam," Vicki said in an oddly strained tone, "he's in Daddy's den. He has a visitor, and when he asked me if there was somewhere they could talk privately, I told him to go in there."
"Thanks, Vic."
As she walked by Vicki, Jen gave a fleeting thought to her strange tone, but in too much of a hurry to linger and ask about it, she shrugged it off and headed for the den. The door was slightly ajar, and with a gentle push Jen opened it a few inches more, a smile and words of apology on her lips. The words were never uttered and the smile faded from her lips as Jen stood transfixed, staring at her husband of two and a half hours and the exquisitely lovely, sobbing woman he held so protectively in his arms.
The woman was obviously Oriental, or at least partly so. Tiny in comparison to Adam, she had long, straight, shiny, raven-black hair and a face that belonged on a delicate silk wall hanging. And at the moment her dark, almond-shaped eyes looked heart-catchingly beautiful drenched in tears. Jen took one unsteady step back, then froze as the woman's soft lilting voice came faintly to her.
"I-do-not-wish-to-sound-ungrateful-Adam-but-I-don't-know-how-I-can-bear-it."
Jen bit down hard on her lip as Adam's hand came up to stroke the silky black hair. Her teeth dug in harder when the afternoon sunlight struck glintingly off the fine gold chain looped around his wrist. The softly soothing sound of Adam's reply drove her back another step.
"The pain will ease, eventually, I promise you. And if you ever need me, I'll be there, always."
Numb, Jen was unaware of her bridal bouquet sliding out of her frozen fingers. Turning slowly, she walked blindly down the hall and into her bedroom. Standing at the foot of her bed, staring at nothing, her hands smoothed the material at the front of her gown over and over again. She was still standing there, smoothing, when Adam entered the room some ten minutes later.
"Jennifer."
The sound of his voice reached her; the tone of sharp concern did not. Blinking her eyes, she focused on him and saw the small bouquet he held in one hand.
"We have to change and get out of here or we'll miss our plane." Adam spoke slowly, carefully. "And you have to toss this"—he lifted her flowers—"to the single girls."
"Yes, of course." Her movements jerky, Jen turned away from him, her hands going to the zipper at the back of her neck. Then, except for the slight trembling in her fingers, she became still again. Her voice sounded gratingly harsh in the quiet room. "Has she gone?"
"Jennifer—"
"Has she gone?"
"Yes." Adam sighed wearily. "She had asked the cabbie to wait." He sighed again, this time from right behind her. "Jennifer, she didn't—"
"I think you said something about having to change," Jen interrupted sharply, her fingers tugging at the zipper. The bouquet flew by her, landing on the bed. Jen went stiff as his fingers brushed hers.
"Let me do that," he growled. Jen stood as lifeless as a mannequin until the zipper reached the end of its track, then she moved away from him with a terse "Thank you."
Somehow she got through it. Changing clothes in the same room with him. Tossing her flowers to the laughing group of single girls and managing a teasing remark when Liz, blushing bright pink, caught it. Responding to the hugs, kisses and the good wishes of everyone. Smiling all the while. Somehow she got through it all.
Inside the car the atmosphere was electric with a tense silence. Unable to bare her highly imaginative thoughts, Jen launched into nonsensical chatter.
"Did you see the look that passed between Liz and Ted when she caught the bouquet?" Jen despaired at the false lightness of her trite tone, yet unable to face the strained silence, she went on, "I don't think it will be too long before they're facing a minister—"
"Shut up, Jennifer."
Her breath failed her as Adam's voice slashed across her jabbering. The very roughness of his tone produced the quiet he obviously wanted, for hurt by the harsh order, Jen withdrew, firmly hanging on to thoughts of Liz and Ted.
How perfectly suited to each other they seemed to be, she thought enviously. Liz had been the first person Jen had called about her and Adam's engagement.
"I knew he wasn't the one-night-stand type," Liz had exclaimed gleefully. "I can't wait to tell Ted. When can we get together, Jen?"
Although Jen had winced at the way Liz had phrased her opening statement, she had laughed and promised to get back to her about a dinner date for the four of them.
They had spent several evenings together during the last months and the camaraderie they had shared at the motel had been solidly reestablished.
Jen had no idea how long they'd been driving before she realized they were not heading for the airport, or that Adam had not said a word since demanding she shut up. Although she was sure she knew the answer, she asked, "Where are we going?"
"Home." Adam's tight lips hardly moved around the one word.
"But we'll miss our plane!" Shifting around, Jen looked directly at him, then wished she hadn't. His mouth twisted derisively, and the glance he shot her held cool contempt. He didn't bother to reply but returned his concentration to the road.
Jen didn't attempt to break the silence for the remainder of the ride to the house. Hands clenched in her lap, she nurtured her anger while trying to ignore the feeling of loss his glance had instilled.
When they reached the house she preceded him inside with a cool detachment she was nowhere near feeling. Inside she was a churning mass of emotions and urges, the uppermost being the urge to fling accusations at him. The only thing that kept her silent was the childish determination that he speak first.
Walking into the large rectangular living room, she stopped in the middle of the floor, back to him, and waited.
Still without a word to her, she heard him walk across the room and then the dull rattle of plastic against plastic as he lifted the mouthpiece to the phone and punched out a number. In disbelief she heard him cancel their flight reservations and then punch out another number. Unable to contain herself she spun around to face him as he coolly canceled their hotel reservations in Hawaii. With a sigh of regret, she said good-bye to all the secret hopes she'd had for their time together at
that hotel.
Adam's face was expressionless when, his phone call finished, he looked at her. "So much for that bright idea." He smiled wryly. "I don't think either of us are in the mood for the honeymoon suite now." One dark eyebrow lifted questioningly. "Are you ready to hear it?"
"No!" Spinning around, Jen walked jerkily across the room, lengthening the distance between them. In her blind haste to get away from him, and in her fear of hearing him tell her the tiny beauty he'd been holding was a "friend," she scraped her leg on the corner of an occasional table as she hurried by.
"Jennifer!" Adam's warning, coming an instant too late, followed her sharp gasp of pain. With a few long strides he was by her side, his hands grasping her upper arms to steady her. "How long is it going to take you to realize what a foolish young woman you are?" His harsh tone was emphasized by a lightly administered shake.
"Adam, I don't—" What she'd wanted to tell him was she didn't have the sophistication to live the way his parents did. That she was selfish, and possessive, and the idea of sharing him with someone else was unendurable. He didn't give her the chance to say it.
"Yeah, I know," he cut in bitterly. "You don't want to hear it." He gave her that oddly sad smile. "I thought I heard the gavel drop when I picked your flowers up off the hall floor."
"What?" Jen stared at him in confusion.
"You had made your judgment then already, hadn't you?" Adam rasped. "And the verdict was: Adam Banner, guilty as charged."
"Adam, stop—" Jen began, and again he cut in fiercely.
"Stop what?" Suddenly all the harshness was gone, in his hands as well as his voice. "Stop hoping, praying, that you'll begin to see sense?" His hands moved up her arms and over her shoulders caressingly. "Stop aching for the woman I know you can be?" Bending his head, he brushed his lips along the taut line of her jaw to her ear. "Jennifer —Jennifer," he murmured. "This is our wedding day. You are my wife. I don't want to fight with you." His lips moved seductively to the corner of her trembling mouth. "I want to love with you." Sliding his mouth over her slightly parted lips, he whispered, "And I know you want it too."
Jen's resistance was very short-lived simply because, with his mouth moving in drugging enticement on hers and his hands evoking a trembling response from her body, she didn't want to resist. Sighing softly, she left her forgotten handbag drop to the floor and, slipping her arms around his neck, parted her lips still further for him.
Adam gave a muffled groan and, sweeping her up into his arms, mounted the open, spiral staircase to the second floor and their bedroom.
Slowly, taking time to stroke, caress, explore, they undressed each other until her only adornments were her wedding band and the engagement ring that complemented it, and his, a larger matching band that circled his finger and a fine gold chain that circled his wrist.
When, finally, he stretched his length beside her on the cool sheets, she lifted her mouth to his, eagerly, breathlessly.
"I was beginning to be afraid our interrupted journey was never going to be resumed," Adam groaned against Jen's hungry lips. The quivering response that sent the heat pounding through the pliant body she arched against him seemed to rob him of all control. His voice a hoarse incitement, he warned, "I don't know how much longer I can wait, darling. It's been so long and I want you so badly."
They spent their honeymoon week in seclusion in the house, the majority of the time in the bedroom. As if by mutual agreement the subject of the exquisite, dark-haired woman was studiously avoided. With an iron determination Jen had not realized she was capable of, she pushed all thoughts and fears of the future to the deepest reaches of her mind.
In the weeks that followed, their life fell into a pattern that Jen kept pleasant by simply refusing to acknowledge let alone face, the uncertainty that hovered at the fringe; of her consciousness.
Adam was kept busy and worked long hours settling into the executive position he'd been given by his company. Jen kept herself busy after working hours by playing housewife. That there seemed to be a hush-before-the-storm, waiting atmosphere surrounding them, she ignored with an unfamiliar adroitness.
As the days grew long and hot with summer, Jen allowed herself the luxury of believing the growing closeness between them could cancel the necessity of an eventual confrontation. Her cocoon of complacency was shattered in mid-July, six weeks to the day of their wedding.
In an effort to more quickly familiarize himself with the routine of his newly acquired department, Adam had worked most Saturday mornings. On this fateful morning Jen was dawdling over her second cup of coffee while glancing over the morning paper when the phone rang.
After a coolly impersonal "Hello" Jen's voice took on a sincere warmth on finding her caller was Liz. Although she and Adam had been out to dinner with Liz and Ted twice since their marriage, it had been over a week since Jen had heard from Liz. Jen soon learned the purpose of Liz's call was both urgent and exciting.
"Jen, please, please say you can go shopping with me this morning," Liz pleaded exaggeratedly.
"Okay," Jen laughed. "I can go shopping with you this morning. Now, do you think you could tell me why you sound like you're ready to explode?"
"We're getting married," Liz laughed. "Ted and I, I mean." Before Jen could get a word of surprise or congratulations in, Liz bubbled on, "He's been at me about it for weeks and last night, in a weak moment, I said yes. Jen, honey, you would not believe this man. When he decides to do something he doesn't horse around. He's picking me up late this afternoon, and we're taking an early-evening flight to Vegas. Vegas! Do you believe it?" Liz paused to gasp at a quick breath, then plunged on, "And I am determined to be completely outfitted. Can you be ready in a half hour? I'll pick you up, and we'll go into Philly to the Gallery."
It was not until after she was settled into the passenger seat of Liz's car that Jen remembered she had not called Adam. Oh, well, she smiled to herself, it will be more fun to tell him in person anyway.
It was after three when Liz stopped the car in front of the town house. Jen felt as if she'd been in a marathon race as they had dashed in and out of the many shops in the tiered shopping mall, pausing only long enough to gulp a quick lunch of sandwiches and iced tea.
"Oh, God, I've got to run or I'll never be ready when Ted arrives," Liz chattered, leaning over to give Jen a quick hug. "Thanks for going with me. Give Adam my love, and tell him we'll call when we get back."
Jen was smiling in anticipation of Adam's reaction to her news when she walked into the living room. The sight of Adam, still dressed in the lightweight business suit he'd put on that morning, a suitcase on the floor beside him, standing tense and tight-faced by the phone, wiped the smile from her lips.
"Where the hell have you been?" His harshly impatient tone brought her to an abrupt halt. "I've been calling everyone I could think of trying to find you. It's too late now, I've got to go." Shooting his left sleeve, he glanced at his watch and shook his head sharply before bending to grab the handle of his valise.
"Go? It's too late?" Jen repeated in shocked confusion. "Adam, what are you talking about?"
"Jennifer, I've got to go," Adam said gently. "The executive jet's waiting for me."
Anger spurred by renewed fear made Jen go hot, then cold. Where was this jet waiting to take him? Where or— the insidious thought crept into her mind—to whom? Watching him walk toward her, Jen was suddenly terrified by the thought that if he left now, their relationship would be irreparably damaged.
When he bent to kiss her she stepped back, twisting her head aside. "I thought you were finished with the traveling part of the business," she accused.
"This is different," Adam sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "There is no time to explain now. I have no choice, I must go."
The four words I have no choice hit Jen almost like a physical blow. Her reaction to the pain and fear gripping her was totally human, and completely contradictory. Her tone thick with sarcasm, she snapped, "Another emergency
call, Adam?"
Adam's body stiffened, then, turning away from her, he walked to the door. "As a matter of fact, it was." He turned the knob and opened the door before adding, "Only this time my father's dying." Without a backward glance he walked out of the house.
Jen never knew how long she stood staring at the door, her eyes wide with shock and horror. Adam's father was dying, and she had sent him away in anger. The shudder that tore through her body broke the self-condemning trance that held her motionless. What had she done?
Adam was away for ten days. Ten long days during which Jen examined his parting shot,, "Only this time my father's dying." Oh, the remark itself was fairly obvious. With those six terse words he'd told her clearly that his sudden departure from the motel had been due to his father's health. No, it wasn't his statement she didn't understand, it was his tone that nagged at her. What, exactly, had that tone conveyed? Sadness surely, but there was something else. Exasperation? Anger? Defeat? She couldn't pinpoint it, and so it tormented her.
Feeling suddenly very young and not too bright, Jen lived through those ten days by telling herself Adam would come back.
She was sitting on the sofa, staring sightlessly at the news on TV, when he came home after ten days of total silence. Without speaking, he dropped his suitcase to the floor inside the door, crossed the room, and sighing wearily, sank onto the end of the sofa, stretching his legs out with another long sigh.
Jen's heart contracted painfully at the look of him. His face was pale, with lines of strain etched deeply around his mouth, and he looked exhausted. Her voice husky with compassion Jen whispered, "Your father?"
"He's gone," Adam said quietly, his eyes studying the tips of his shoes.
"I'm sorry, Adam." Jen choked around the tears clogging her throat. "I'm—I'm sorry for everything."
"What does 'everything' mean?" Adam raised bleak eyes to hers. "Sorry you ever laid eyes on me? Sorry you married me?"
"Adam!" Jen exclaimed, shocked at the utter defeat in his tone. "You can't believe that?"
"I don't know what I believe anymore, Jennifer." Getting to his feet he stared broodingly at her a moment, then, swinging away, he walked out of the room with a muttered "And I'm too beat to go into it now. Good night, Jennifer."
