Runway Romance (Love in the Air Trilogy)

by Merri Hiatt

“I’m too awake now.”

  “Then we can finish our conversation.”

  “I think you have much more interesting conversations to engage in at the moment.”

  “Jenny’s being polite. Take Malelough up to your room and do the wild thing. I need coffee.”

  Jenny followed Kate into the kitchen while Patricia showed Malelough to her room. As they quietly sipped a fresh pot of French roast, the sound of moans and the headboard hitting the wall filtered toward them.

  “This is going to be fun,” Kate said with a scowl.

  “This is the first guy Patricia’s had stay over for so long. Should be interesting to see how she changes with a man on her arm.”

  “She’ll deny that she changes at all.”

  “Of course she will. We all do. But we also all change, at least for the first few months.”

  “I think by the six-month mark I’m really me around a guy. If I stay with ‘em for that long.”

  “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been truly myself around a man. I used to think so, but looking back, I still tucked part of myself in a little box behind my heart. Afraid of getting hurt. Like if he didn’t really know me, then I could keep that part hidden away and he’d never really get to me.”

  “But then he can never really get to you.”

  “I know. Crazy isn’t it? He can’t hurt me, but I don’t feel like he really loves me, either.”

  “And we do it to ourselves. Time and time again.”

  “How do we stop?”

  “You mean how do we stop without getting hurt?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

  “When you do, let me know, okay?”

  “You’ll be the first one.”

  The sat in silence, except for the occasional giggle drifting down the stairs from post-sexual pillow talk.

  “What time’s your doctor’s appointment?”

  “Four.”

  “My offer to go with you still stands.”

  “I don’t want a lecture.”

  “You won’t get one.”

  “I don’t want a Pollyanna, either.”

  “My name starts with a J.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “You’re supposed to be. If you were nonchalant, I’d be worried.”

  “Patricia thinks I should carry the baby to term.”

  “Patricia can decide what to do with her body when she’s pregnant. This is you. The only person you have to answer to is yourself, and God, if you believe in God or a god. Or a goddess. Or lots of gods. Or Buddha. Or…”

  “I get it. I’m not sure what I believe anymore. The closest religion that ever made sense to me was Taoism. Even then, I didn’t understand a lot of it. I felt it, deep inside. A connection.”

  “I think we’re all seeking that connection. We find it in different ways.”

  “How do you find it?”

  “God. Well, Holy Spirit, really. What can’t be touched with your hands, but is so very real. That’s what I’m drawn to.”

  “You wouldn’t stick your fingers in Thomas’ wound?”

  Jenny smiled. “No. I’m not a concrete kind of gal. I like all the ethereal stuff. Jesus’ body not being found in the sealed tomb, where it should have been. So many explanations and scholars taking the story apart and putting it back together again. I couldn’t care less. I imagine Jesus ascending to heaven as a sort of floating apparition. That’s exciting to me.”

  “I want facts. Cold, hard reason.”

  “Mormons can give you all the facts you need. They have answers for everything. I think that’s why a lot of people really take to their teachings.”

  “Then I think about all the other gods and how they’re different, and the same. It’s all overwhelming.”

  “That’s for sure. I think you come to understand bits and pieces. Sort of like eating a steak. If you shoved the whole thing in your mouth, you’d never be able to chew it, let alone swallow it. But, if you cut off a small piece and chew it thoroughly, it’s easy to digest.”

  “God is like steak, huh?”

  “Religion is like steak. God is a T-bone, Buddha is a pot roast, and let’s see, who would be ground round?”

  Kate laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard religion reduced to classes of meat.”

  “Me, either, now that I think about. Any way I can make money off this grand theology of mine?”

  “I’m sure there is.”

  “Not to change the subject or anything, but I’ll be ready at three-thirty. If you want me to come with you, I will. If not, I’ll just be a phone call away.”

  “Thank you. When my sister died, I never thought I’d be close to another woman again. She was my best friend.

  I only knew you as Paula’s friend, until the day of her memorial service. I still have the necklace with the little vial that you slipped in my pocket. I remember finding it later that night. I saw there was something written on a piece of paper, so I unscrewed the top.

  It was damn hard to get that paper out. I couldn’t imagine how you ever got it in that tiny space. I finally had to hunt for the tweezers.

  I was afraid it was going to be a scripture verse or some trite saying you might find stitched on a pillow at a retirement home.

  ‘You are not alone.’ That’s all it said. No name or phone number. I had no idea who had given it to me. I didn’t realize at the time that that was part of the gift. It made me look at people differently. Anyone could have written those words.

  I would have gone on for years wondering who the thoughtful person was who gave me such a precious gift when I was feeling so very alone, but I didn’t have to. I saw you again at Jane Billoughly’s service. I remembered Jane because she was Paula’s friend, too.

  I fought this deep aversion to going to the service. It dredged up my sister’s all-too-recent death. Something urged me onward, though, and I found myself at the church.

  It was after the service that I saw you hugging Jane’s mother. I forget her name. You put something in her pocket and I knew it was you.

  At first it felt less special. I thought you must do this at every memorial service you attend. I was actually really annoyed with you then. I didn’t want to be number eighty-one on some list of recipients. But I was there when she found the necklace in her pocket. It was a scripture verse about the sadness lasting only a night and joy coming with the morning light, or something like that.

  I found your phone number when I was going through Paula’s things and called you.”

  “I always wondered where you got my number. I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to intrude, either. Grief is a personal thing. I just wanted you to know you weren’t alone.” Tears skimmed the surface of Jenny’s eyes.

  “Don’t do that crying, but not really crying, thing that you do. You’ll have me crying.”

  “I’m glad you know it was me.”

  “I’d really like it if you’d come with me to the doctor.”

  “You’re not alone.”

  “I know.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was almost three o’clock when a light rapping on the front door brought Kate out of a thoughtful fog. “May I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m looking for Jenny.”

  “Are you Rich?”

  “Do I dare say yes?”

  “Are you wearing protection?”

  “Will I need it?”

  “It could go either way. Come on in.” He was cute, Kate had to give him that. “Have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.” She paused at the hallway. “She may not want to see you.”

  “I’m aware of that. Thanks for letting her know I’m here.”

  Kate thought Rich had nice eyes. Kind eyes. She found herself rooting for the slimy bastard in spite of the fact that he hadn’t told Jenny he was married and had a kid.

  “Jenny? There’s someone here to see you.” Kate waited outside Jenny’s bedroom for a reply. Hearing nothi
ng, she knocked on the door. “Jenny?”

  “I heard you.” There was a long pause. “Is it him?”

  “Yeah.”

  Several minutes passed.

  “Do you want me to tell him to leave?”

  Jenny opened the door. “I’ll tell him myself.”

  Kate opened her mouth, but shut it just as quickly when she saw the fire in her roommate’s eyes.

  Jenny took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and headed to the living room to give Richard Novatney a piece of her mind. He was sitting in her favorite recliner. Sonofabitch! Who said he could sit in my recliner!

  Richard stood up. “Thanks for seeing me.”

  “Get out.” Jenny’s tone was cold and her words fell like hard stones.

  “I thought you were going to let me explain.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “Jenny…”

  “Get out!” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice. Stay cool, Jen. Don’t let him see how much he’s hurt you.

  “This is all a misunderstanding. Becka and I are old friends. She needed to get married because…”

  “I don’t care.” Jenny walked past him and opened the front door, holding it at arm’s length so he wouldn’t have to come one inch closer than necessary when he left the house.

  “There are two sides to every situation. Why are you being so stubborn as to not even consider that this story has two sides?”

  “I barely know you. I’ve thought about why you didn’t disclose this information sooner and the answer is simple, you didn’t want to get caught. I get it. But I’m not some woman you can toy with. I have real feelings and I don’t like being betrayed by a liar.”

  “I’ve had about enough of your name calling.”

  “I haven’t even begun.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” Rich scowled as he headed for the open doorway. “But let me remind you of one thing, I wasn’t keeping the information from you. I just didn’t think to tell you about Becka and Maya because it’s more of an arrangement than anything.”

  “Now there’s a glowing recommendation. Is that supposed to make me feel better? Great news! You don’t give a damn about your wife and kid.”

  “You’re twisting everything around.”

  “They’re your words, not mine.”

  “Why do I always end up with the neurotic ones?”

  “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means exactly what I said. Is your hearing stunted, too?”

  Jenny’s eyes narrowed and she felt her left hand balling up into a fist.

  “What, you gonna hit me now?”

  “Get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that song before.” Rich strode through the doorway and onto the porch.

  “You can sing it on your way to hell!” Jenny slammed the door so hard the glass rattled.

  Patricia and Kate ducked behind the sofa, not sure if Jenny would welcome their eavesdropping or turn her wrath on them.

  “Asshole! Why in the hell did he even come here?”

  Kate held up a white tissue, waving it back and forth in a sign of peaceful surrender.

  “What are you doing back there?”

  “Eavesdropping.” Patricia stood up. Kate followed her lead. “What was he saying about that woman? Something about how they’ve been friends for a long time and she had to get married?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t listening.”

  “He never said he loved her,” Kate said.

  “He’d have to, wouldn’t he? He married her. And they have a kid together.”

  “He didn’t say that.” Kate walked over to her favorite chair and sat down. “Don’t kill me, but I think you should get the full story.”

  “I agree with Kate. Something’s off here. Rich may end up being the knight in shining armor in this little tale.”

  “Pffft! I highly doubt it.” Jenny scoffed at the thought. “The best thing I can do is forget all about him. I’ll just push him out of my mind and take up knitting or something.”

  “You can’t knit someone out of your heart,” Patricia said.

  “Who said he’s in my heart? We had a mutual lustful appreciation of one another, that’s it.”

  “Then why are you so angry?” Kate asked. “I mean, if you don’t feel anything for him, it should be easy to let go, right?”

  “Right. It is easy. It’s just the principle of the thing. I don’t like being lied to.”

  Kate and Patricia exchanged glances.

  “Stop that! Don’t make this into something more than it is.”

  “I thought you were the one making more out of this than anyone,” Kate said.

  Jenny sighed. Even while they were fighting, there was a part of her that wanted to reach out and pull Rich close, to fill her lungs with his scent. Maybe he was right, maybe she was neurotic.

  “Maybe you two should write each other a letter. Then you can’t interrupt each other and tempers won’t flare,” Patricia said.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be upstairs entertaining your boyfriend?”

  “I was. He’s taking a shower. All the yelling interrupted us.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “I needed a break anyway. The man has stamina up the ying-yang.”

  “Where exactly is the ying-yang?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t know, but wherever it is, Malelough knows how to get there.”

  Jenny flopped into her recliner. “What am I gonna do, you guys?”

  “I thought you already decided you were severing ties with him?” Patricia said.

  “I’m miserable.”

  “See! You are in love. Go talk with him.” Kate got up and began pulling Jenny out of the chair. “I’ll drive you over there.”

  “I don’t even know where he lives.”

  “But you know where he works. Call Stacy and get his schedule.”

  “I guess I could. It’s probably not even worth it.”

  “If he’s got you all riled up, it’s worth it.”

  “What do you think’s going on with this old friend of his?”

  “She could have gotten pregnant and he offered to marry her, you know, to save face,” Patricia said.

  “What if he’s the father?”

  “From what I overheard that doesn’t sound likely. What father would call his own kid an ‘arrangement’?”

  “It does sort of sound like the kind of thing he’d do. Noble. Caring for another person more than himself.” Jenny cringed. “I called him a lot of names.” She bit her lower lip.

  “He should have explained all this right from the start, then there wouldn’t have been all this confusion,” Patricia said. “It’s really no wonder you assumed he was a liar and a cheat.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to explain anymore? What if he’s over me already?”

  “If he was over you, he wouldn’t have come here to talk with you.”

  “I practically told him to go to hell.”

  “Don’t think about that now. Here.” Kate handed Jenny her cell phone. “Call Stacy and find out when he’s working.”

  “I’m not so sure about this.”

  “Or you could sit around the house pining away for the Mr. Right that you let slide through your fingers because you were too damn stubborn to make a phone call.” Patricia’s hands were on her hips and her stance held a stern mother’s pose.

  “I’ll call. I’ll call. Man, you two are bossy.”

  “You asked us for help, remember?”

  “I guess I forgot that part.”

  “Selective memory,” Kate said. “Shaun O’Leary has it, too. The entire time I was in Ireland he told me the same five stories over and over again. I was hearing them in my dreams.”

  “Did you find anyone in Ireland you hadn’t already slept with?” Patricia asked.

  Kate stuck out her tongue and made a bratty kid sister face. “At least I don’t bring my bedmates home with me.”


  “I didn’t bring Malelough home. He’s visiting.”

  “Sh… I can’t hear.” Jenny motioned for a pen. Patricia grabbed one and Kate grabbed a yellow sticky note. When she hung up, she said, “He’s working tomorrow night, graveyard shift.”

  “It’ll be so romantic on the tarmac under the moon and stars,” Patricia said.

  “Or else he’ll mow you down with that luggage truck he drives around in,” Kate said.

  “Kate!”

  “What? We don’t know how he’s going to respond. It could go either way.”

  “He’s not going to chase you down the runway. He’ll be glad to see you and you’ll work all this out.”

  “I hope so. I’m beginning to think I really jumped to conclusions.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What do you wear to a midnight meeting outside where you may end up as roadkill?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. Kate was just being Kate. Rich is not going to hit you with his truck,” Patricia said.

  “Actually, he almost did the day we met. It happens more often than you’d think.”

  “Well, just keep an eye out, and your ears open.”

  “I think that’s better advice for him than me.”

  “It’s good advice for both of you.”

  Jenny glanced at the clock.

  “Are you going with Kate to the doctor?”

  “She hasn’t decided yet.”

  “You’re a better friend than I am.”

  “Why?”

  “You didn’t try to talk her out of having an abortion.”

  “That doesn’t make me a better friend. You’re entitled to your opinion.”

  “Yeah, but it’s Kate’s decision in the end. I should have been more supportive, like you.”

  “I don’t know if not speaking up is the right thing or not. I just went with my gut. I’d have a hard time knowing what to do if I were in Kate’s shoes. All the logic and reason make sense. Then I think about those tiny little fingers and toes. I mean, it’s a whole other person that you helped make. How do you deny your baby life?”

  “Why didn’t you say any of this to Kate?”

  “Because I knew she’d already thought about it all, probably from more angles than I can think of. She wouldn’t make a decision this important on a whim.

  It reminds me of those t.v. talk shows where they bring in fourteen year old girls who say they want to get pregnant and have babies. Come on! That seems inhumane to me. They’re still practically babies themselves. How can they possibly care for another human being when they can’t even take care of themselves?”