And if that meant Cole had to go on the road with him, so be it.
Jay focused on muscles and Cole, keeping his thoughts away from Ellen. He saw her Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, like clockwork. Eight o’clock in. Work her muscles. Eight-thirty out. Muscles. Cole. Not woman. Not Ellen.
He was going to keep his word to her. To her mother. And to himself. He was going to treat her issue. Help her heal. He was not going to hurt her.
“Have I done something to anger you?” she asked after their session on Wednesday.
“No, of course not.”
She looked at him. “You’re sure?”
Meeting her gaze wasn’t easy. Especially with the feel of the back of her thighs still so fresh against his fingers. “Of course.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“We have no problem that I know of.”
“You’re acting like you don’t know me.”
“I don’t, really.” And he wouldn’t. He would help her. He would not betray her trust with lustful indiscretions. He would not play with her heart, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be around for long.
“Yes, you do.” Her unwavering stare was not as hard to take as it should have been. He admired her guts. “Now tell me what’s going on.”
He could lie to her. Of course, that would be a betrayal of trust, too.
“I made a promise.”
“To who?”
“You. Your mother. Myself.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
Ellen turned toward the waiting room. “Same time tomorrow?” she asked over her shoulder.
Jay nodded.
He didn’t walk her out.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ON WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, in between a plastic canvas class, which she taught, and water aerobics, which she merely sat in on, Ellen listened to her sister Shelley lament, via cell phone, about a conductor she was working with in Phoenix. Shelley had auditioned for, and won, a solo soprano role in a cantata being performed with the Phoenix symphony in the fall and the conductor rode her mercilessly, if you believed how Shelley told it.
Ellen, who was used to her dramatics, suspected that her sister had a crush on the handsome young artist.
She hoped so. After Shelley’s trouble in high school—a time when her sister had turned to the wrong kind of guy for the love and protection her father had taken away—she hadn’t shown much interest in men.
After work, she stopped by the Stricklands’ house to turn on the air conditioner and cool the place since they were returning from vacation later tonight. Then she went to Rebecca’s apartment near the university to help her youngest sister with the lasagna she wanted to make for her husband. Finally, she headed home to finish the caboose on the train she’d painted on her son’s wall. On a whim, she added a puppy in the window since Josh wanted a dog.
Maybe it was time to get him one. She could tell him about it the next time she talked to him. Maybe she could even have it waiting here for him when he got back. Hard to believe she still had almost two weeks left without him. What kind of puppy would he like? What kind would be best for them to have?
What was she doing? Trying to buy her son’s affection with a puppy? She’d told him they would get a dog when he was old enough to take care of it. To train it. Five was still a little young for that.
Really, what she was doing was trying not to think about Jay. In a couple of short weeks she had become addicted to the feel of his hands on her body.
For the past four days, she’d been thinking about those hands doing other things to her, too. Sliding her clothes off, stroking her sides, brushing the sides of her breasts.
The heroines of Shelter Valley stripped to their panties for their massages. A tidbit she’d learned from one of the millions of discussions between her mother and her friends that Ellen had been privy to.
What would Jay do if she stripped down to her panties before pulling the sheet up? She imagined herself lying in wait in the near nude, with the soft lighting and her garden music playing. Thought about him opening the door. Coming inside.
He’d reach for her, start to stroke. And find her skin waiting for him.
Sitting alone in a hot bubble bath that night, Ellen thought of Jay’s fingers. And her nipples puckered.
He’d said he wanted her. That’s what had started all of this fantasizing.
Hadn’t it?
Or had it begun before that?
A vision of him, Black Leather, roaring into town on that powerful machine of his, came to mind. And her lower belly got that feeling.
Sitting straight up, Ellen splashed water all over the floor. “Oh, my God,” she said aloud. Her voice didn’t quell the buzzing. She thought of Jay’s jeans—his zipper. Imagined that zipper opening. Imagined his hard penis coming toward her.
She put her hand between her legs, applying pressure in an attempt to hold off the buzzing. She was turned on. The thought of Jay’s penis didn’t shut her down. It revved her up.
She pictured it again. Applied more pressure.
Oh, my.
BY THURSDAY MORNING, Ellen was a charged conglomeration of excitement, practical justification and fear, trying to focus on holding herself together.
She went to her appointment because that was what she’d agreed to do. Her sessions with Jay had become routine. Though she thought about undressing, she didn’t, of course. There was a huge gap between thought and action—a gap Ellen wouldn’t really cross.
She covered herself with the sheet, placed her head on the support and waited.
She wanted to have sex. For the first time since she’d been raped, her body pulsed with need. She could have taken care of the need herself—self-pleasuring had been suggested in counseling. But that had never been a goal. Being alone, period, wasn’t her goal.
She didn’t want just an orgasm. She wanted to have one with a man. Because of a man.
Jay was there to facilitate her ability to welcome physical touch. He’d said that he’d do what it took to help her heal.
He’d said he was sexually attracted to her.
He’d said—
The door opened. Ellen closed her eyes. Waited for the pressure of his hands. And let her mind take her wherever it wanted to go.
JAY WAITED FOR ELLEN in the hall. He’d managed to get through the half hour without having a single errant thought regarding her body or person—managed more easily than he had all week, due to his level of stress.
He was meeting Cole this afternoon. Jay was no clearer about what to do, or say, than he’d been before he found out the kid existed.
“Has David been able to find out anything more about my mother?” he asked when Ellen joined him.
“Not that I’ve heard. He’s been asking around all week. He had a dinner with the senior classics last night and I know there were a few folks there he was eager to speak with. How are you coming with your research?”
“Nothing yet.”
The kind of tedious reading, rereading and cross-reference reading he was doing could take months. Years.
He’d expanded his search from wedding dress ads and jewelers to any articles written on the subject of tennis in Arizona over a three-year span.
This morning he’d called his landlord about sub-leasing the place. His first month was almost up and he was ready to move on.
Had to move on.
“I’m free tonight. I’d be happy to read for a while,” Ellen offered. That smile of hers, as though his quest meant something to her, nicked at him.
“I’m busy.”
“Oh.” The smile on her face became forced. He hadn’t meant to be so abrupt. He had to stay away from Ellen, not be cruel to her.
“I’m going to meet Cole tonight.”
“Wow.” Eyes widening, she stared at him. “Does he know about you, yet?”
“Nope. It’s been left up to me to tell him.”
Opening the door to his room, Ellen reentered. Curiosity dragged
Jay in behind her.
“Do you have any idea what you’re going to say?” Ellen’s arms hugged her midsection, almost as though it was hurting.
“Nope.” He’d never been one for planned speeches. Not even when he’d taken a speech class his freshman year of college.
“What are you guys going to do?”
“I have no idea.”
“You’re going to show up and wing the whole thing?”
“Pretty much.”
“Jay, this is a huge deal. It could affect the rest of that boy’s life.”
Chin jutted and lips pursed, Jay nodded. He fully understood the ramifications. But he couldn’t figure a way out of watching the train wreck.
“You know that already,” she said, dropping onto the chair. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He wanted her help. That was no good. Jay had a problem and his instinct was to run to Ellen.
The same as everyone else around here.
What was with him? Was this sudden need for a confidant because of Ellen? Because she exuded something that drew people to seek out her particular brand of nurturing?
Or was there something wrong with him? Had this town done something to him? Was being enmeshed in an atmosphere of goodwill messing him up? Either way, his malady would be cured by getting out of town.
“I don’t practice family counseling, but I did a six-month internship as part of my senior year at Montford. And I’m certified as a family counselor.”
Her brown eyes were so wide and warm and welcoming, as though, if he lowered his defenses, she’d suck him in like some kind of creature in a science fiction horror show.
“I could go with you. Sometimes it helps the child to have an advocate there—someone he can vent with. Cole might be angry. Really angry.”
“If he needs to vent, he can vent on me. I can take it.” He’d faced down violence in prison and won. He could handle a twelve-year-old kid. “The boy deserves time alone with me, to react without judgment or assessment.”
“I was thinking about you, too.” Ellen’s soft words brushed by him. But returned to linger, to tease him with a softness that wasn’t a part of his life. “He’s your son. You’ve been rejected by your father. It’s not going to be easy for you if the meeting goes bad.”
“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
Nodding, she stood. “Can I tell you what I think?”
“Of course.”
“Will you listen?”
He wasn’t sure, but he had an idea Ellen had his number. He was scared shitless. But he had to do this on his own.
“I’d appreciate hearing anything you’ve got to tell me,” he finally said. Because this wasn’t only about him. This was about a boy who would soon find out that he’d been lied to his entire life.
“You’re coming in from behind on three fronts. Cole has been lied to, you’re the bearer of the bad news and you’re the other half of the lie. He might not believe that you didn’t know about him until recently. Initially, he might reject everything you tell him. I’d talk to him a bit before telling him you’re his father. Let him get a feel for you before he has to deal with you in a personal way. Take him for a ride on the bike. It’ll help if he thinks something about you is cool. And trust your instincts. If you don’t feel tonight’s a good night to tell him, don’t.”
“No night is a good time to find out your life is a lie.”
Ellen didn’t say anything. At least not with words. But the way she looked at him…she could have been cradling him in her arms.
“What?” he asked. “You think I’m not that much different from Cole. I’m finding out that my life was a lie, too.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you were thinking it.” He wasn’t accusing, simply stating.
Even her shrug was sweet. “It’s the truth.”
His truth. He’d deal with it. Had dealt with worse.
“If I don’t tell him tonight, I become party to the lie his mother has been feeding him all these years.”
“There’s a chance he’d see it that way regardless.”
Hands in his pockets—mostly to keep them to himself—he nodded. “Any other words of wisdom?”
“Be yourself. And no matter what he says, don’t abandon him. Not in word or in action. Stick with him like glue. You’ve got twelve years of insecurity to overcome. He needs to know that, no matter what, you aren’t going to abandon him again.”
“I didn’t abandon him the first time.”
“Yes, you did, Jay. Not on purpose, not knowingly, but the boy grew up without his real father. In that light, your innocence in the deception might not matter to him at first. Eventually it will, but tonight, his biggest crisis will be learning the truth and dealing with it. There probably won’t be a whole lot of room for understanding. Remember, he’s only twelve.”
Jay tried to remember being twelve. And came up blank.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ELLEN FINISHED WORK EARLY Thursday since it was doctor visit day and residents were occupied with their checkups. More family members than usual visited, hoping to catch the doctors on their rounds. The staff was distracted. Not much call for a social director and, unless the doctor had news that precipitated a major decision, she wasn’t usually needed as a counselor, either.
During the day she had read to Gladys Cottrill, a woman she’d known since kindergarten. Gladys, old even then, used to volunteer at the elementary school, reading to the kids during story time. She talked with family members about concerns a couple of residents had. She helped the nursing staff find charts and run errands for doctors as best as she could. She comforted residents who thought they were going to be forgotten or who were stressed by what they might hear.
Eventually, she got out of the way. She’d promised the canning ladies that she’d be there by noon, and she was fifteen minutes early. She spent four solid hours with them boiling lids and various other beginner jobs as she watched and learned the art of canning. And before she left she begged a case of tomatoes and beans for Joe to deliver on her next visit up the mountain.
Jogging was next on her agenda. Being on the streets of Shelter Valley, soaking up the hot August afternoon sun, rejuvenated her. She loved the mountains that protected the town, the desert that set it apart, the natural beauty that surrounded it, reminding its inhabitants that there were strong powers that watched over them.
And could take care of them.
She couldn’t imagine feeling this safe by herself on the streets anywhere else. The self-defense classes she’d taken in Phoenix had stressed that women should always use the buddy system for outdoor activities.
Not being able to jog alone would trap her in a life she didn’t want. She got claustrophobic just thinking about it.
Thoughts of other places reminded her of Jay. He would be on his way to see his son. He’d probably been right to go alone. But she wished she could be with him. He’d had to face too much of life alone already.
She didn’t doubt his capability—certainly Jay could handle what life gave him. But did there come a point when someone had been disappointed so many times that he lost his ability to be open to sharing? And caring?
She missed seeing the sewer grate in her path and stumbled, then righted herself. Why did the thought of Jay being alone bring tears to her eyes?
Randi Foster, baby sister to Will Parsons, was in her front yard with another new puppy. She waved as Ellen passed. Ellen returned the gesture. Randi, the women’s athletic director at Montford, was also advisor to the university’s pet therapy club.
Had Jay ever had a pet? Would his son want one? And why did the man’s personal situation matter to her?
When thoughts about her bath the night before sprang to mind, Ellen turned toward home, got in her car and drove to the Sheffields’. She needed a dose of reality and who better to get that from than the twin children of a psychologist?
“Ellen!” Calvin and Clarissa, nine now, me
t her at the door with hugs. “Mom! Ellen’s here.”
“Shh,” she said, hugging them both. “How does ice cream sound?”
She’d been watching these two since their birth. Had been sickened when two-year-old Calvin had been abducted by his father’s former student. They’d all been in Phoenix to support Phyllis during the trial.
“Hey, stranger, how you doing?” Phyllis approached, wiping her hands on a paper towel.
“Good. Can I take them for ice cream?”
It was after six and the twins ate at five. Phyllis was a stickler with their schedules.
“Of course,” she said with a penetrating gaze. “Maybe when you get back we can talk.”
Phyllis had been there for Ellen many times after the rape. Always the voice of solid reason and compassion.
“Maybe,” she said now. Phyllis was also one of her mother’s closest friends. And there was no way in hell she wanted her mother to know the kinds of things that had been plaguing Ellen’s mind all week.
“Guys, go get your flip-flops,” Phyllis said to the kids.
As soon as they were racing each other up the stairs, Phyllis said, “Your mom tells me you’re in therapy with the biker guy in town.”
“Yeah.” Of course, considering Phyllis’s profession, Martha would have run to her. Made sense. Friends or no.
“Well, I told her I think it’s a good idea. Thought you should know that.”
Heart beating a tattoo against her chest bone, Ellen stared at the other woman. “You do?”
“I do. I did some checking. He’s reputable. And his theories are sound. It’s been seven years, El. You’ve tried all of the traditional counseling. Trying something different might work. If you don’t attempt it, you’ll be consigning yourself to less than the life you want.”
The air left Ellen’s lungs. She sucked more in and grinned as big as she had when she’d passed her state certification. “I can imagine what Mom had to say about that.”
Flopping rubber descended, but Ellen didn’t miss Phyllis’s sardonic words. “Yeah, well, I’m tough. I can take it. You can’t live your life for your mother, El.”
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