From that moment, E. J. had known for certain the part of her that wanted to be with a woman could never see the light of day. She wouldn’t lose her son, not for anyone. And yet, years later when her marriage to Marcus ended, she still decided to explore the possibility, despite her fears and the potential repercussions—regardless of the wounds it could rip open in her son. How selfish can I be? And now, for him to find out she was sleeping with an ex-con and a woman? And, as Jacob’s dream image had said, the hated member of his wife’s family? She buried her face in her arms. Could she have screwed this up any worse?
The pipes clanked as the shower turned on.
To complicate matters even more, she had to admit she had let herself become emotionally involved with Jinx, no matter how much she had lied to herself before now and denied it. The depth to which she had felt Jinx’s pain and sadness, the degree to which she had wanted to protect her, the strength of her anger at Nora Tanner, Jinx’s father, and even Andrea, made her feelings impossible to refute any longer. What was she supposed to do with that, though? It was her and Jinx, or Jacob. She couldn’t hurt him again. She couldn’t lose him. He was her son.
She had to let go of Jinx.
How could she face her, though? She knew she couldn’t, not and see that look in her eyes, that same look she had seen at the top of the stairs, the same look she had seen when talking about the loss of her mother, of her father, of Andi. E. J. would be just one more person who had cared about Jinx and abandoned her. No, E. J. couldn’t face her.
She listened to the running water.
She scrambled out of bed and started pulling her things together, hoping to be gone before Jinx got out of the shower. You’re a coward. She swallowed back the tears and kept moving, running—the way she always had.
CHAPTER TEN
Jinx turned off the water and toweled herself dry. She was amazed E. J. was still there. She’d sensed several times—more like every other minute—E. J.’s desire to flee. Jinx had seen her go pale at the initial confession and had been certain it was all over in that instant, but E. J. had stayed. Again, at the explanation of the length of her sentence and the brawl in which Val had been killed, she was sure E. J. would bolt, but she’d rallied. Throughout that first night, she’d become aware E. J. had kept the focus on Jinx’s childhood, Jinx as the innocent instead of the criminal, but when they’d finally gotten to her life on the streets and the bank robbery, E. J. hadn’t shied away. She’d said she would stay, and she had. And with all those memories stirred up, when Jinx had woken from an old nightmare of kneeling beside Val, covered in her blood, to E. J.’s comforting touch and this morning to the feel of E. J. beside her, she hadn’t been able to believe it.
She knew better, though, than to think the discussion was over. E. J. could still walk out of her life. After all, they hadn’t even touched on who Val was, or anything that’d happened in prison, but if E. J. was still here, Jinx still had a chance. In the years since Val’s death, she’d learned to believe in hope, in possibilities, in letting go of how something could happen and just hold on to the knowledge that it could. Without that, she probably never would have gotten out of prison, never would have returned to try to heal her relationship with Andrea, and certainly never would have met E. J. Sure, there’d been times when hope had all but deserted her—when Andrea had slammed the door in her face, when one of the women she’d briefly dated excused herself to use the restroom after hearing Jinx’s much-abbreviated version of her past and had never returned to the table. When Jinx was working up the nerve to tell E. J., that damned voice in her head kept saying, you’re an idiot if you think she’s going to want anything to do with you. But E. J. was still here, and Jinx did have hope. She was different from who she’d once been, and that had to count for something.
She wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at her reflection. She had changed. She didn’t look all that much different—healthier certainly, older, but other than that, pretty much the same. She was a different person, though, from the one who’d walked into that bank so long ago, from the one who’d stolen and lied when she lived on the streets.
During her time in prison, she’d seen a lot of things, met so many people, heard all their stories, and through it all, she’d learned a lot about herself. She’d figured out her life was her own responsibility and was built on her own choices, even if they were hard ones. She’d realized the importance of family, of connection and relationships, and though she’d found she could make it on her own, she preferred to be involved with people she cared about and who cared about her. She liked to help people, to be useful, to share what she had with those who could benefit from it, and she’d learned the meaning of the adage, giving and receiving are one and the same. Then, when she’d been released, Reggie and Sparkle had opened their hearts and home to her, given her a job, and been there for her on every step of her return to the outside world, all due to their gratitude for what Jinx had done for Sparkle’s little sister, Trisha, on the inside.
And now, she’d met E. J., a woman so different from anyone she’d ever been with, who kept coming back so unexpectedly, who was more than a one-night stand, more than a fling, as Jinx had thought. Now, she’d stayed after hearing everything—well, almost everything—unlike the others with whom Jinx had tested the waters of truth. Jinx knew the day ahead wouldn’t be easy. Some more tough stuff remained to be discussed and explained, but a day of that with E. J. would certainly be easier than a day alone, facing the realization that no matter how much she’d changed, the fact of who she’d been might always make her unacceptable to anyone she cared about. She drew in a steadying breath and left the bathroom.
She pulled on a pair of jeans and her new Bad Dog T-shirt from the dresser, then slipped into a pair of flip-flops before grabbing her keys to head out for E. J.’s coffee. In the doorway, she halted at the scene.
E. J. leaned over her open suitcase on the bed, rummaging through its contents. Her laptop, returned to its case, lay beside it.
All optimism faded, and Jinx felt sick to her stomach. “What are you doing?” she asked reluctantly. But she knew.
E. J.’s movements stilled, the mere length of a flinch, before she continued her frenzied search for whatever the lost item was. “I can’t find my phone,” she said, her tone sharp.
Jinx couldn’t speak. She had to say something to keep E. J. from leaving, but she couldn’t think of anything.
E. J. straightened and turned to face her. She wore gray slacks and a fuchsia blouse, the attire of someone going out into the world, nothing like what she’d worn for just hanging around Jinx’s house. “Do you know where it is?”
Her expression was one of fear, conflict, and regret, much like that first morning at the hotel when it turned out they’d be at the same wedding. But now, she looked resolved, too. That can’t be good.
“E. J., please don’t leave.” Jinx’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “I’m not that person anymore. Let me explain.”
E. J. squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she turned and looked out the window. “I know you’re not. I can feel that.”
Optimism sparked. “Then please stay. Hear me out.”
E. J. hesitated. Her lips trembled, then firmed. “I can’t,” she said, turning back to Jinx. “I can’t do this. I’m not made for drama, for complications. This is too…I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Jacob.”
“To Jacob? What does any of this have to do with him?”
“I can’t hurt him again. I was careless with him when he was young. I should have been there. And then, I was selfish. I ignored my vow never to act on my attraction to women because I thought I could keep it away from him, but now, here I am with you, a member of his new family—the member who’s been banished. And in addition to being a woman, you’re a…”
“Say it.” The hope Jinx had held for the day gave way to resignation. At least she’d know. She’d hear it from E. J.’s own lips and wouldn’t have to
guess.
“Okay.” E. J.’s voice rose. “You’re a criminal. You’ve been in prison. And not just for a little while…for twenty years. Jacob’s a lawyer. He’s married into a family of lawyers—your family of lawyers—so even if I wanted to tell him I’m gay, which I don’t, there’s now all the rest of this to deal with. I won’t lose my son.”
Maybe E. J. was right, but Jinx wasn’t willing to let her go without a fight. “This isn’t about Jacob. This is about you and me…about us.”
E. J. studied her, then inhaled deeply. She straightened her back and her face went calm. “There is no you and me. This was fun, but that’s all.” It sounded rehearsed, a practiced response used many times. E. J.’s guard was up, and it was like they’d never met.
Jinx’s temper flared at not being allowed to talk to the woman she knew. “I don’t believe that’s what you think. Or what you feel. I’ve been with you. I’ve felt you open up to me, to us. I’ve felt you feel us.”
E. J. averted her gaze but remained rigid. “You don’t understand, and I don’t expect you to.”
There was that same line from that first morning, too. Is that her standard brush-off? Surely, they’d shared more than that. She couldn’t be that wrong about what she felt. “Then, damn it, E. J., explain it to me.” Now, Jinx’s voice rose. “I opened my soul to you this weekend. I told you things I’ve never shared with anyone. I talked about my mother to you. I’ve cried in your arms, and all I get from you is, you don’t understand and I don’t expect you to? What the hell is that?”
“It’s all I have,” E. J. yelled. “I don’t do…” She waved her hand in the air. “…this. It’s too complicated. It’s too risky. I can’t love…” She turned back to the bed and yanked open her purse. “It’s too much.”
Jinx froze. What had E. J. almost said? That she couldn’t love Jinx? Does she? “E. J.?”
“No,” E. J. said firmly. She tore through the contents of her suitcase again. “God damn it, where is my fucking phone?”
Jinx watched her grow more frantic. She could feel her anxiety continue to rise. E. J. was done talking. That was clear. What had her own thought been Friday night? If her past was going to be a deal breaker, better to know now than later when it would be more painful. She couldn’t imagine the ache in her heart at the mere thought of watching E. J. walk out the door being any worse, though, and yet, she knew it would be. She sighed and looked at the floor. “It’s on the counter next to the microwave.”
E. J. glanced at the kitchen, then zipped her suitcase closed and grabbed her purse and laptop. She crossed the room and snatched up her phone. She paused.
Jinx kept her eyes down and inwardly begged E. J. not to say anything else. If you’re going, just go.
“Jinx, I’m sorry.”
The sound of her name on E. J.’s lips forced her to blink back tears. All the other times, she’d loved hearing it, whether E. J. was just talking to her, being playful, or whispering in her ear in bed, but this time, it felt like a knife in her chest. She clenched her teeth. The silence grew awkward, but Jinx wasn’t going to tell her it was okay, or she understood, because it wasn’t and she didn’t. She wasn’t about to make this easier for her. She turned away and listened to E. J.’s footsteps as she walked to the front door.
When E. J. stepped outside, there was another pause. She released a long sigh. “Could you move your car? I can’t get out.”
Jesus H. Christ! Could this exit drag out any longer? Keys in hand, Jinx stalked past E. J. and down the porch steps. As she backed into the street, she looked at the Lexus and remembered how excited she’d been to see it in her driveway just two days earlier, how good it’d felt to be the one E. J. wanted to be with after a bad day, how unbelievable it’d been that E. J. had asked to spend the whole weekend. Now, such a short time later, she watched as E. J. drove off down the block.
Jinx glanced at her house. Her throat closed and her chest constricted at the thought of going back inside, seeing the dishes from the wonderful dinner E. J. had made and the rumpled blankets on the bed they’d shared. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel until her anger resurfaced and overrode her pain. She climbed from her car, returned to lock her front door, then headed off for Canine Complete. There was always work to be done there. She could keep herself distracted all day.
*
Jinx stepped through the side gate into the kennels. She knew at this time on a Sunday morning she’d find Reggie feeding and chatting with the boarded dogs before letting them out for exercise and socializing. During the first six months Jinx was home, when she’d lived with Reggie and Sparkle, she’d helped Reggie on Sunday mornings since most of the rest of the staff shared that day off, but once Jinx had moved into her own place, Reggie had insisted she take that day to relax as well.
Jinx watched her through the long row of windows that ran the length of the kennel. Reggie offered soft greetings to reassure any dog new to the experience of being boarded or a boisterous good morning to those who were regulars and familiar with her and the daily routine. She always knew exactly what someone needed, whether canine or human. Between salutations, she seemed to have a perpetual smile. The comfort it gave Jinx made her smile as well.
When Jinx entered the kennels, Reggie looked up and flashed a wide grin, but it quickly vanished. “What are you doing here?” she asked, but the concern in her eyes said she already knew. Jinx had told her and Sparkle the day before that E. J. had returned to town and was spending the weekend. She’d also said they were in the middle of a discussion about her past.
Jinx’s throat closed on any response. She couldn’t say the words, but she didn’t have to. She shrugged. “Can I help?” She gestured to the food bucket.
Reggie watched her for a moment, then closed the distance between them and took her into a hard hug. “I’m sorry, Jinx.”
Jinx wrapped her arms around Reggie’s broad middle and held on tight. “Thanks,” she said just loud enough to be heard over the din of barking dogs.
“You want to finish feeding?”
Jinx nodded, knowing if she tried to say anything else, she’d end up a blubbering fool. She’d been enough of a fool where E. J. was concerned. It was time to pull up her big girl panties and move on. She took the scoop from Reggie.
“Okay,” Reggie said, stepping back and giving Jinx an affectionate slap on the shoulder. “I’ve got a couple of training sessions. When you’re done here, head on up to the house. Sparkle’s making peach pie to go with dinner. The kids are coming over, and Trisha will be here. You’ll spend the day with us.” She turned and walked outside, the matter settled.
Gratitude flooded Jinx. She’d known this was where she’d spend the day, but Reggie’s immediate and unsolicited confirmation reminded her there was one place in the world she was always welcome, no matter what. It didn’t alleviate the pain of E. J.’s rejection, but it gave her somewhere to be, people to be with, a place she could feel she belonged.
Jinx picked up where Reggie had left off and fed and watered the next three dogs, taking time to love on them a little and assure them they’d be running free in the yard soon. When she opened the next gate, a huge Rottweiler bounded toward her. Her mood instantly lifted. “Hey, Dylan. I didn’t know you were here.” She dropped to her knees and looped her arms around his thick neck.
His owner, Ms. Meyers, a quirky English teacher and poet, brought him in religiously once a month, and Jinx always looked forward to her time with him. His full name was Dylan Thomas, after the poet. He snuggled up to her, his stub of a tail wagging excitedly, and bathed her face with a huge, sloppy, wet kiss as was his customary greeting. He always made her laugh, and thankfully, today was no exception.
She scrubbed her hands over his back, causing him to wiggle his whole rear end frantically. “I didn’t know you were staying with us. Where’s your mama?”
He licked her again.
She chuckled. “Okay, that’s enough.” She wiped her face on the sleeve of
her T-shirt. “Let’s see what wisdom you have for me today.”
In addition to her affection for him, Jinx enjoyed the custom tags Ms. Meyers made for him—a new one every time Jinx saw him—each of which held the inscription of a different quote from one of her poems. She joked that it was the only way to ensure some of her work would be published. The quotes always somehow seemed to fit whatever Jinx was going through at any given time, which made her think of a friend she’d made in prison, a yoga-practicing, meditating guru of the cellblock who’d been dubbed Namastacey. Her real name was Stacey Evans, and she was serving life for drug trafficking and assaulting a federal agent, but she’d found a new path in prison and, thus, a new way of being. Namastacey always said that you already know everything you need to know, and as a reminder, it showed up all around you if you just paid attention.
Jinx scratched Dylan’s chest with one hand while she found the tags dangling from his collar with the other. Today’s quote read, Lovers grow cold, attention fades; But love only sleeps, always to bloom again. “Huh,” Jinx said and rubbed the dog’s huge head. “Once again, sage advice.” Following her confrontation with Andrea at the wedding, and three days of wallowing in self-pity, Dylan had come into the shop with a tag that read, To mope is for fools, for fools have lost hope. Today’s quote was an equally strong eye-opener.
Jinx knew it was the truth. E. J. leaving her life didn’t mean she wasn’t loved, or that she’d never have romantic love. She hadn’t been looking for that when she’d met E. J. She was still trying to get her life together, to learn how to live on her own, and to figure out how on God’s green earth to get her sister to talk to her. Those were her priorities. If all that was true, though, why did watching E. J. walk out this morning hurt so badly? Why did she now feel so empty? Was it just her ego? She never would have believed someone as classy and successful as E. J. would find her attractive, and with her past being what it was…E. J. could have anyone she wanted. Why would she choose an ex-con whose own family even had no interest in her?
Embracing the Dawn Page 13
