Island Hearts (Jenny's Turn and Stray Lady)

by Vanessa Grant

  Any man who married Monica would end up having a big family. What kind of a father would Jake make? Loving. Stern sometimes. Monica would have to watch him, be sure he didn’t become too intensely involved in work to have time for his children. My God! Would they ask her to be godmother?

  Jenny could picture their children. She blinked back the tears, angrily tore off a paper towel square from the holder and roughly dabbed at her eyes.

  They looked good together – his dark maleness beside her soft, feminine fairness, his suntanned skin against her white fragility. Their children—

  The kettle was boiling, steam whistling through the small hole. She turned it off, set it aside, listening to the sounds it made as the water stopped boiling. She had to get out of here, away from them both before the tears really did come. She’d never be able to explain tears to Jake.

  She stood very still, breathing heavily as if she’d just run a hard race. She took a deep, calming breath, slowly forcing her heartbeat slower. If Jake wanted coffee this time of night, he’d be planning to go back to work when he left Monica. Did Monica realize that?

  Monica might have it wrong. Jake wasn’t one for hinting. Or marrying.

  Jennifer. He always called her Jennifer. As if he were different from everyone else, wouldn’t call her the same name everyone else used. Sometimes, she wondered if it meant that she was special to him. More than once he’d looked at her as if he wanted her – but he wanted so many women, and she wasn’t about to become one of the crowd.

  It was a good thing he called her Jennifer. It reminded her of Lance, kept her on guard.

  She made herself remember Lance as she checked her face in the mirror above the sink, making sure there was no sign of tears. She’d been seventeen, so much in love, so desperately in love with him. She’d given him everything, held nothing back when he asked. She’d been happy, ecstatic, touching the clouds in her new love, in the sudden awareness of her own womanhood, the knowledge that she would never be alone again.

  Her lover. He’d touched her with intimacy, told her she was the only woman he would ever want. Marriage was a word they hadn’t needed to speak. Jenny had known, with foolish confidence, that Lance was hers forever.

  Forever. Until the night she told him that she was expecting his child.

  Then had come loneliness, emptiness. Aunt Georgina had found her crying once. After that, Jenny had kept the tears inside, grew a wall around her hurt until she could hardly feel it.

  She wouldn’t cry now, either. This was nothing, only a fantasy she sometimes gave way to, thinking of Jake touching her with love. He’d never know about it; no one would.

  She walked silently back into the entrance hallway. Silence from the living room. She held the hanger with one hand as she slipped her coat off it, careful not to let the metal hanger make noise as it swung free of the coat.

  “Where are you going?”

  Jake, moving towards the door, prowling, like a tiger. Keeping tabs on her again.

  “Why?” she demanded, thrusting her chin out aggressively.

  He laughed, but she knew he was irritated. “Just answer, Jennifer. Don’t evade. Don’t turn my question back on me. Where are you going?”

  “Out.” She didn’t care how angry she made him. She wanted him to be angry. She caught herself breathing quick and shallow, preparing for angry words she’d never intended to say.

  His eyes narrowed, watching her. “I’m sorry, Jennifer, but there’s nobody else who can get that video ready for shooting. As soon as we get it done, you can have your time – take an extra week if you like.”

  “I’m not angry.” He knew she was lying but she didn’t care. “Jake, step aside, please. I’m going out.”

  His face hardened. He planted himself more firmly in her path, the muscles of his thighs tensed against his slacks. She felt tension all through him. “It’s late. You can’t go prowling around Vancouver alone this time of night.”

  She laughed bitterly. “Can’t I? I’m a big girl, Jake.”

  “Coffee’s ready,” Monica’s soft call came from the living room where she was setting out a tray with cups and coffee.

  He grasped her arm roughly, holding her back. “Jennifer—”

  She jerked away. “What makes you think I’m going to be alone?”

  Why was he so angry, so aggressively determined to keep her in the apartment?

  Monica came up and linked her arm with Jake’s, smiling a query.

  Jenny said, “I’m just going out for a bit. See you later.” Then she left quickly, while Monica was still clinging to his arm.

  She couldn’t seem to get warm, even when the car heater started blasting at her. She drove to the studio and found it cold there too.

  It was Friday night. No time to be working, but she knew she couldn’t do anything else tonight. Where else could she go to be alone? She turned on the computer, opened the web browser and tried to pretend she wanted to be sitting at a cold computer console doing research.

  When a key turned in the door, she didn’t pause. She was ready for him now. She was calm again, able to tell herself that it didn’t matter who Jake married or didn’t marry.

  She didn’t look up, because she wasn’t quite that calm.

  “I thought you were out with your George?” He was leaning against the doorway, watching her thoughtfully. “Or Wayne?”

  She bent her head, her long hair dropping like a curtain between them. She touched a key to get a printout of the data on the screen. The noise of the printer covered her failure to answer him.

  “You should be home in bed, Jennifer.”

  “So should you.”

  She still wouldn’t look at him, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “I guess we’re both crazy,” he said, touching her shoulder briefly with his hand as he walked past her. Then he was sitting at the easel on the far side of the room, sketching something as if he would lose it if he didn’t get it on paper quickly.

  They worked together without talking for over an hour. When Jenny made a pot of tea, Jake didn’t seem to notice the steaming mug that appeared beside him, although he absently picked it up later.

  He was working, drawing dark black lines on the design he had sketched. She stood beside him for a moment after she put the tea down. She could smell his aftershave faintly – he was using a different scent tonight. Perhaps something Monica had given him.

  She had an urge to touch him, to make him look at her. If she did, he’d have a question in his eyes. Yes? What did you want, Jennifer?

  She would have no answer, so she went back to the computer, opened the browser again and started asking for more information.

  A few minutes later, she looked over and saw him slipping out of his suit jacket, tossing it towards a nearby chair without looking to see if it had landed.

  He held his shoulders stiffly. She could see the muscles moving through his light shirt. If she were Monica, she’d walk over and massage his shoulders, soothe the stiffness away.

  What was wrong with her these last couple of days? All these years, she’d kept her crazy attraction to him under control. Now, suddenly, she kept looking, imagining, wanting. She couldn’t seem to stop herself.

  He didn’t notice when she picked up his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack near the door. He didn’t look up until she put on her own coat.

  “Going home?” He dropped the pen, leaning back as if he were giving up for the night, too.

  “Yes.” She slid her hands into the pockets, feeling for her keys. “I’ll be back in tomorrow.”

  “I won’t.” He kneaded the back of his neck with one hand, wincing as he did. “I’m going over to Victoria for the weekend.”

  She said tonelessly, “I know. Monica told me.”

  “Do you want me to drive you home?” He stood up, started looking around.

  “Your jacket’s here on the hook,” she told him. He spotted it then and nodded, moving towards her and the jacket. Self consciously, she
stepped back. “I don’t need a ride. I’ve got my car. Don’t stop working.”

  “It’s all right.” He looked back at the easel, nodding to himself. “I’ve got it now. I had an idea – I had to get it on paper.”

  She shook off a fanciful idea that he was lonely, that he didn’t want her to go yet.

  He took his jacket off the hook, his eyes watching her with uncomfortable intensity. “Jennifer, you’re acting oddly these last couple of days. Is everything all right with you?”

  Surely there was no way that he could know how she really felt? She said firmly, “I’m fine. It was a surprise seeing George again.” The distraction worked. He frowned at George’s name and she buttoned her coat right up to the neck, shivering again. “Jake?”

  “What?” he asked absently.

  She hesitated, but she had to know. “Are you going to marry Monica?”

  Jake’s eyes were too darkly shuttered. Jenny hadn’t a chance of seeing his expression. She felt his sudden stillness, knew he was watching her with a look she couldn’t interpret. She looked down at the buttons of her coat, absently undoing the top one, then doing it back up again.

  “Am I going to marry Monica?” he repeated slowly, thoughtfully. “Yes, I probably will.”

  She didn’t answer. She had thought she was prepared, but she hadn’t really believed it was true. She felt her face grow stiff, knew that she mustn’t let him see. She bent over her buttons again, then turned her collar up and moved towards the door.

  “Jennifer—” She heard him move behind her. She grasped the door handle and turned it. She had to get away from him, quickly.

  “Goodnight, Jake.“

  Chapter 3

  Jake slammed the door and erupted into the office, his camera and attaché case tangled with the overcoat slung over his arm. In the next room, Jenny stopped pretending to concentrate on the notes in front of her. She’d been waiting all morning for Jake to come in.

  Last night she’d tried to convince herself that she didn’t care who Jake married. In spite of Hans – in spite of her own relegation to the drudgery jobs this last year – she didn’t want to stop working for Jake.

  Sometime in the night, before the sun rose again, she’d finally admitted to herself that she couldn’t bear to watch Jake and Monica making their life together. She didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but she’d fallen in love with Jake.

  Now she had to get herself far away from him. Thank God for George!

  “Jennifer? Where are you?”

  She clenched her hands together, called out, “I’m in here! In the library.” He came around the corner, wet with rain, smiling over something he was about to tell her. “Jake, I’ve got to talk to you about—”

  “I’ve got some great footage on that city hall demonstration – just have a look at this video tape!”

  Startled, she asked, “What demonstration?”

  “A delegation turned up at city hall, leading a cow into the council chambers – protesting re-zoning to put a slaughterhouse in their neighborhood. The whole thing descended into chaos! Police, aldermen, the Mayor! One of the demonstrators threw a pitcher of water at Gerstch, and Gerstch is suing for assault. Can you believe it? Gerstch’s supporters are picketing city hall.”

  “And the cow?”

  He grinned widely, revealing a deep dimple in his chin. “I think the cows have been arrested – they left, led away by two city police officers. It’s going to hit the National News tonight. I’ve already got it sold to both networks – oh, and that crazy woman who wants to pass a law about couples kissing in Stanley Park is trying to propose a motion to ban cows in city hall.”

  “It sounds like a circus.”

  “Edit this tape, will you?” He dropped the tape onto her desk. She could see the excitement still gleaming in his dark eyes. “I need a short – about five minutes – for the networks. The sensational stuff, commentary—” He spread his hands out in an all-encompassing gesture of the work he wanted her to do. “You know the routine. Then deliver it for me, please. I’m going over to the North Shore— yes, Charlotte? What is it?”

  Charlotte was hovering, holding out a pink slip of paper to Jake. “Your lawyer called – he called twice. He needs your signature on a contract.”

  He said briskly, “You call him. Tell him I’ll drop by tomorrow morning.”

  “And Monica called,” Charlotte added, revealing a second pink slip.

  “I’ll call her later. Remind me when I get back from the North Shore. No!” He waved her away. “Don’t tell me the rest of the messages! Anything that can’t keep ‘till tomorrow?”

  Charlotte frowned at the papers in her hands. “Well, no, but—”

  “Then leave them for tomorrow. Too busy today. Jennifer, you look after anything that won’t hold. I—”

  “Jake—” If she meant to go through with it, she would have to make him listen now. Jenny insisted, “Jake, I’ve got to talk to you. Now!”

  He shook his head, turning away. “Not now. Tomorrow morning. I’m off now.”

  She followed him out through the outer office. “Jake, it can’t wait!“

  “Impossible. If tomorrow won’t do, call me at home tonight. Charlotte, send some flowers to Monica for me – and a note.” He stopped suddenly. Jenny was following him so closely that she almost crashed into him. He looked down at her with a sudden, penetrating intensity. “How’s George?”

  “George is fine,” she answered impatiently. “Charlotte’s waiting to know what to put in Monica’s note.”

  He blinked. “Oh, yes. Ah—” He looked at Charlotte, said, “ ‘Sorry, darling. Can’t get away tonight. Thanks for a lovely weekend.’ How’s that?” he asked Jenny with a smile.

  Charlotte turned away. So did Jake. If she didn’t stop him now, it could be days before she got another chance. Desperate to stop him, she found herself shouting, “Jake! I’m quitting!”

  There was a sudden, total silence as Jenny’s words echoed. Charlotte’s jaw dropped, showing her gold capped tooth. Jake didn’t say a word, just grabbed her arm and dragged her across the office in three short steps, then pushed her into the studio and slammed the door behind them, closing Charlotte out – and Jenny in, alone with Jake.

  “All right,” he said grimly. “You’ve got my attention. Let’s have it.”

  She took a deep breath. With his eyes boring into her, it was harder to sound firm. She’d never seen him look quite so threatening, his cheekbones jutting out sharply under glowering eyes. She remembered suddenly that his Haida ancestors had been warriors feared everywhere on the Pacific coast.

  “Let go of me, Jake! You’re hurting my arm. You heard what I said.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m quitting. I quit.”

  “You can’t quit,” he said flatly. “I won’t let you.”

  “You can’t stop me,” insisted Jenny, with a conviction she couldn’t quite feel.

  He loosened his grip on her arm, but she knew it would tighten again if she made a move. Impatiently, he said, “Let’s get to the point, shall we? What’s your grievance?”

  “Grievance?” She shook her head, confusion showing in her eyes for a moment, then anger. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m quitting – I’ve been trying to tell you all morning, but you won’t stay still long enough for me to get out a word!”

  He grimaced. “You didn’t have any trouble out there just now. You got your message through. I take it this is about your holidays. I honestly don’t know how we can—”

  She stamped her foot in frustration. “It isn’t the bloody holidays! Oh, partly I suppose it is – and a lot of other things, too. But it makes no difference now. I’m leaving. I’ll get the organizing done for the Eglinton thing – then I’m gone.”

  She’d never seen him so much at a loss before. He’d fallen silent, staring at her as if he didn’t know how to handle this. She pushed down a strong urge to change her mind, tell him it was all a mistake.

  In the next room,
Charlotte was phoning the florists with Jake’s love message for Monica. Staying wouldn’t change that.

  She made her voice businesslike. “You were going to the North Shore?”

  “To hell with the North Shore!” he exploded. “What’s this really about? Someone else offered you a job? How much, Jennifer? How much were you offered? If it’s a raise you’re after—”

  “It’s not money. It’s not another job.”

  “Then what is it, for God’s sake?!” He turned angrily away from her, then spun back, coming too close. She could feel the violence and frustration radiating off his body in waves.

  “Stop shouting at me, Jake!”

  He took a deep breath. Jenny’s hands clenched. She’d never seen him so angry before. His blazing eyes made a lie of the flat calmness in his voice. “Why are you leaving?”

  Lamely, she said, “I’m going away,” then added, “Sailing. With George.”

  “George again?” He glared at her for long seconds, then said, “Fine. Have your fling – your damned holidays! But cut this nonsense about leaving! You can’t leave!”

  He moved closer. She stepped back, moving around her desk and sinking into her chair. She felt sick, weak from the strain of shouting at Jake and having him shout at her.

  “I’m really going,” she insisted, not looking at him. “I’m not coming back.”

  “Just like that?” He waved an arm, gesturing at her desk, the worktable they often used together. His motion caught her attention and she found herself looking into his eyes, seeing an unexpected vulnerability that was quickly shuttered as he said, “Five years – and you’re just going to leave?”

  Tonelessly, she explained, “I’ve got a month’s holiday starting next week. You promised me that last winter. In January, you said—”

  “I remember what I said, for God’s sake!”

  “Don’t swear at me!” she shouted back.

  He didn’t lower his voice as he retorted, “You’re in a temper today, aren’t you, my lady? What’s gotten into you?”