Now and Forever

by Danielle Steel

  “I think Tom married me just so he wouldn’t lose track of her. He adored her, and she him.” Astrid smiled again, pleased at the look on Jessica’s face.

  “I can see why he loved her. Ian would fall head over heels for her.” Her tone changed as she said it, and she seemed to drift off. It was a moment before her attention returned to Astrid.

  “I think it’ll do you good to be down here, Jessie.”

  Jessica nodded slowly. “It sounds corny, but I feel better already. A little shaky”—she held up a hand to show the trembling fingers, and grinned sheepishly—“but better nonetheless. It’s such a relief not to have to go through another night alone in that house. You know, it’s crazy. I’m a grown woman. I don’t know why it gets to me so badly, but it’s just awful, Astrid. I almost hope the damn place burns to the ground while I’m gone.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I mean it I’ve come to hate that house. As happy as I once was there, I think I detest it twice as much now. And the studio—it’s like a reminder of all my worst failings.”

  “Do you honestly feel that you’ve failed, Jessica?”

  Jessica nodded slowly but firmly.

  “Single-handedly?”

  “Almost.”

  “I hope you come to realize how absurd that is.”

  “You know what hurts the worst? The fact that I thought we had a fantastic marriage. The best. And now … it all looks so different. He swallowed his resentments, I did things my way. He cheated on me and didn’t tell me; I guessed but didn’t want to know. It’s all so jumbled. I’m going to need time to sort it out.”

  “You can stay down here as long as you like. Mother will never get tired of you.”

  “Maybe not, but I wouldn’t want to abuse her hospitality. I think if I stay a week, I’ll be not only lucky, but eternally grateful.” Astrid only smiled over her hot chocolate. People had a way of saying they’d stay for a few days or a week and of still being there five weeks later. Bethanie didn’t mind, as long as they didn’t get in her hair. She had her own schedule, her friends, her gardening, her books, her projects. She liked to go her own way and let other people go theirs, which was part of her charm and her great success as a hostess. She was exceedingly independent and she had a healthy respect for people’s solitude, including her own.

  Astrid showed Jessica the choice of available rooms, and Jessie settled on a small, cozy, pink room with an old-fashioned quilt on the bed and copper pots hanging over the fireplace. It had a high slanted ceiling, high enough so she wouldn’t bump her head when she got out of bed. There was a lovely bay window with a window seat, and a rocking chair by the fireplace. Jessica heaved a deep sigh and sat on the bed.

  “You know, Astrid, I may never go home.” It was said between a smile and a yawn.

  “Good night, puss. Get some sleep. I’ll see you at breakfast.” Jessica nodded and yawned again. She waved as Astrid closed the door, and then called a last sleepy “Thanks.”

  She would have to write to Ian in the morning, to tell him where she was. To tell him something. But she’d worry about that tomorrow. For the moment she was a world and a half away from all her problems. The boutique, Ian, bills, that unbearable window in Vacaville. None of it was real anymore. She was home now. That was how it felt, and she smiled at the thought as she lit the kindling and put a log on the fire before slipping into her nightgown. Ten minutes later she was asleep. For the first time in four months, without any pills.

  There was a knock on Jessie’s door moments after she had closed her eyes. But when she opened them, sunlight was streaming in between the white organdy curtains, and a fat calico cat yawned sleepily in a patch of sunlight on her bed. The clock said ten-fifteen.

  “Jessie? Are you up?” Astrid poked her head in the door. She was carrying an enormous white wicker tray laden with goodies.

  “Oh no! Breakfast in bed! Astrid, you’ll spoil me forever!” The two women laughed and Jessie sat up in bed, her blond hair falling over her shoulders in a tumult of loose curls. She looked like a young girl, and surprisingly rested now.

  “You’re looking awfully healthy this morning, madam.”

  “And hungry as hell. I slept like a log. Wow!” She was faced with waffles, bacon, two fried eggs, and a steaming mug of hot coffee, all of it served on delicate flowered china. There was a vase in the corner of the tray with one yellow rose in it. “I feel like it’s my birthday or something.”

  “So do I! I can hardly wait to get to the shop!” Astrid giggled and slid into the rocking chair while Jessie went to town on the breakfast. “I should have let you sleep a while longer, but I wanted to get back to the city. And Mother decided you needed breakfast in bed on your first day.”

  “I’m embarrassed. But not too embarrassed to eat all this.” She chuckled and dove into the waffles. “I’m starving.”

  “You should be. You didn’t have any dinner.”

  “What’s your mother up to this morning?”

  “God knows. She went riding at eight, came back to change, and just drove off a few minutes ago. She goes her own way, and doesn’t invite questions.”

  Jessica smiled and sat back in the bed with a mouthful of waffle. “You know, I should feel guilty as hell, sitting here like this with Ian where he is, but for the first time in five months, I don’t. I just feel good. Fabulous, as a matter of fact.” And relieved. It was such a relief not to have to do anything. Not to have to be at the shop, or on the way to see Ian, or opening bills, or taking phone calls. She was in another world now. She was free. “I feel so super, Astrid.” She grinned, stretched, and yawned, with a splendid breakfast under her belt, and the sun steaming across her bed.

  “Then just enjoy it. You needed something like this. I wanted to bring you down here over Christmas. Remember?” Jessica nodded regretfully, remembering what she had done instead. She had blotted out Christmas with a handful of pills.

  “If I’d only known.”

  She stroked the calico cat and it licked her finger as Astrid sat in the rocking chair, quietly rocking and watching her friend. With one good night of sleep she already looked better. But there was still a lot to resolve. She didn’t envy Jessica the task ahead of her.

  “Why don’t you stay down for a couple of days, Astrid?”

  Astrid let out a whoop and shook her head. “And miss all the fun of running the boutique? You’re crazy. You couldn’t keep me down here if you tied me to a gatepost. This’ll be the most fun I’ve had in years!”

  “Astrid, you’re nutty, but I love you. If it weren’t for you, I couldn’t sit around down here like a lady of leisure. So go have a good old time with Lady J. She’s all yours!” And then Jessie looked wistful. “I almost wish I really never had to go back.”

  “Do you want to sell me Lady J?” Something in Astrid’s voice made Jessica look up.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Very. Maybe even a partnership, if you don’t want to sell out completely. But I’ve given it a lot of thought. I just never knew how to broach it to you.”

  “Like you just did, I guess. But I’ve never thought of it. It might be an idea. Let me mull it over. And see how you enjoy it while I’m gone. You may hate the place by next weekend.”

  But Astrid could tell from the sound of her voice that Jessica had no intention of giving up Lady J. There was still that pride of ownership in her voice. Lady J was hers, no matter how out of sorts with it she was at the moment.

  “Were you really serious about sending Katsuko to New York, by the way?” Jessie was still stunned by all that had happened in a mere twenty-four hours.

  “I was. I told her to plan on leaving tomorrow. That way you can give her any instructions you want. We can square the finances of it later. Much later. So don’t go adding that to your pile of worries. What about the fall line? Any thoughts, orders, requests, caveats, whatever?”

  “None. I trust her implicitly. She has a better buying sense than I do, and she’s been i
n retailing for long enough to know what she’s doing. After the season we just had, I’m not sure I’m fit to buy for the place anymore.”

  “Everyone can have an off season.”

  “Yeah. All the way around.” Jessie smiled and Astrid looked back at her friend with warmth in her eyes.

  “Well, I’d best be getting my fanny in gear. I have a long drive ahead. Any messages for the home front?”

  “Yeah. One.” Jessica grinned, then threw back her head and laughed. “Good-bye.”

  “Jerk. Have a good time down here. This place put me back together once.”

  “And you look damn good to me.” Jessie climbed lazily out of bed, stretched again, and gave Astrid a last hug. “Have a safe trip and give the girls my love.”

  She watched her leave and waved from the bedroom window. Jessie was alone in the house now except for the cat, which was parading slowly across the window seat. There were country sounds from outside, and a delicious silence all around her in the airy, sun-filled house. She wandered barefoot down the long upstairs hall, peeking into rooms, opening books, pirouetting here and there, looking at paintings, chasing the cat, and then went downstairs to do more of the same. She was free! Free! For the first time in seven years, ten years, fifty years, forever, she was free. Of burdens, responsibilities, and terrors. The day before she had hit rock bottom. The last support of her decaying foundation had come tumbling, roaring down … and she hadn’t fallen with it. Astrid had held her up, and taken her away.

  But the best part of all was that she hadn’t cracked. She would remember all her life that moment when two strangers had pulled her back from the steering wheel where she was pressing on the horn. She had decided to let herself go crazy then, just slide into a pool of oblivion, never to return to the land of the ugly and dying and evil, the land of the “living.” But she hadn’t gone crazy at all. She had hurt. More than she had ever hurt in her life. But she hadn’t gone crazy. And here she was, wandering around a delightful house in the country, barefoot, in her nightgown, with a huge breakfast in her stomach and a smile on her face.

  And the amazing thing was that she didn’t need Ian. Without him, the roof hadn’t fallen in. It was a new idea to Jessie, and she didn’t quite know what to do with it yet. It changed everything.

  Chapter 26

  It was late in the afternoon of her first day on the ranch that Jessica decided to sit down and write to Ian. She wanted to let him know where she was. She still felt she had to check in. But it was hard to explain to him why she was there. Having kept up the front for so long, it was difficult to tell him just what kind of shape she’d been in behind the façade. She had blown it the day before, but now she had to sit down and tell him quietly. It turned every “fine” she had ever told him into a lie. And most of them had been lies. She hadn’t been willing to admit to herself how far from fine she was, and now she had to do both—admit it to herself and to him. She had no more accusations to level at him, but no explanations she wanted to give either.

  Words didn’t come easily. What could you say? I love you, darling, but I also hate you … I’ve always been afraid to lose you, but now I’m not sure anymore … get lost … she grinned at the thought, but then tried to get serious. Where to begin? And there were questions. So many questions. Suddenly she wondered how many other women there had been. And why. Because she was inadequate, or because he was hungry, or because he needed to prove something, or … why? Her parents had never asked each other questions, but they had been wrong, or at least, wrong for her. She had followed their example, but now she wanted answers, or thought she did. But she recognized the possibility that the answers she sought were her own. Did she love Ian? Or only need him? Did she need him, or only someone? And how do you ask seven years of questions in half a page of letter … do you respect me? Why? How can you? She wasn’t sure if she loved or respected him or herself at this point.

  She wanted to take the easy way out and simply tell him about Mrs. Williams and the ranch, but that seemed dishonest. And so it took her two hours to write the letter. It was one page long. She told him that yesterday had shown her she needed a rest Astrid had come up with a marvelous suggestion, her mother’s ranch.

  It is precisely the kind of place where I can finally relax, come to my senses, breathe again, and be myself. Myself being, these days, an odd combination of who I used to be, who I have been catapulted into being during the past six months, and who I am becoming. It all frightens me more than a little. But even that is changing somewhat, Ian. I am tired of always being so frightened. It must have been a great burden on you all this time, my constant fears. But I am growing now. Perhaps “up”; I don’t know yet. Keep at the book, you’re right, and I’m sorry for yesterday. I will regret all our lives that we have borne all of this with such dignity and self-control. Perhaps if we had screamed, shrieked, kicked, yelled, and tore at our hair on the courtroom floor instead—perhaps we’d both be in better shape now. It has to come out sooner or later. I’m working on that now. Right? Well, darling. I love you. J.

  She hesitated lengthily with the letter in her hands, and then folded it carefully and put it into an envelope There was much she had not said. She just didn’t want to say it yet. And she carefully inscribed his name on the envelope. But not her own. She wondered if he would think the lack of a return address was an oversight. It wasn’t.

  Jessica joined Astrid’s mother in the living room for an after-dinner drink.

  “You have no idea how happy you’ve made Astrid, my dear. She needs something to do. Lately all she’s done is spend money. That’s not healthy. The constant acquisition of meaningless possessions, just to pass the time. She doesn’t enjoy it, she just does it to fill a void. But your boutique will fill that void in a far better way.”

  “I met her through the boutique, as a matter of fact She just walked in one day, and we liked each other. And she’s been so good to me. I hope she really enjoys the shop this week. I’m relieved to be away from it.”

  “Astrid mentioned that you’d had a hard time of late.”

  Jessie nodded, subdued.

  “You’ll grow from it in the end. But how disagreeable life can be while one grows!” She laughed over her Campari, and Jessie smiled. “I’ve always had a passionate dislike for character-building situations. But in the end, they turn out to be worthwhile, I suppose.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call my situation worthwhile. I suspect it’s going to be the end of my marriage.” There was a look of overwhelming sorrow in Jessica’s eyes, but she was almost certain that she knew her mind now. She simply hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself before this.

  “Is that what you want now, child? Freedom from your marriage?” She was sitting quietly by the fire, watching Jessica’s face intently.

  “No, not my freedom, really. I’ve never had problems about my freedom. I love being married. But I think we’ve reached a time when we’re simply destroying each other, and it will only get worse. In looking back now, I wonder if we didn’t always destroy each other. But it’s different now. I see it. And there’s no excuse for letting it continue once you see.”

  “I suppose you’ll have to take the matter in hand, then. How does your husband feel about it?” Jessie paused for a moment.

  “I don’t know. He’s … he’s in prison right now.” She couldn’t think of anyone else she would have told, and she didn’t know that Astrid had already told her mother, only that Bethanie appeared to take the news in stride. “And we’ve had to visit each other under such strained conditions that it’s been difficult to talk. It’s even hard to think. You feel obliged to be so staunch and brave and noble, that you don’t dare admit even to yourself, let alone each other, that you’ve just plain had it.”

  “Have you ‘had it’?” She smiled gently, but Jessie did not return the smile as she nodded. “It must be very hard for you, Jessica. Considering the guilt attached to leaving someone who’s in a difficult situation.”

&nb
sp; “I think that’s why I haven’t allowed myself to think. Not past a certain point. Because I didn’t dare ‘betray’ him, even in my thoughts. And because I wanted to think of myself as noble and long-suffering. And because I was … scared to. I was afraid that if I let go, I’d never find my way back again.”

  “The funny thing is that one always does. We are all so much tougher than we think.”

  “I guess I’m beginning to understand now. It’s taken me a terribly long time. But yesterday everything fell apart. Ian and I had an all-out fight where we both went for the jugular with everything we said, and I just let myself go afterward. I almost tempted the fates to break me. And …” She raised her hands palm up with a philosophical shrug. “Here I am. Still in one piece.”

  “That surprises you?” The old woman was amused.

  “Very much.”

  “You’ve never been through crises before?”

  “Yes. My parents died. And my brother was killed in Vietnam. But … I had Ian. Ian buffered everything, Ian played ten thousand roles and wore a million different hats for me.”

  “That’s a lot to ask of anyone.”

  “Not a lot. It’s too much. Which is probably why he’s in prison.”

  “I see. You blame yourself?”

  “In a way.”

  “Jessica, why can’t you let Ian have the right to his own mistakes? Whatever got him into prison, no matter how closely it relates to you—doesn’t he have a right to own that mistake, whatever it was?”

  “It was rape.”

  “I see. And you committed the rape for him.” Jessica giggled nervously.

  “No, of course not. I …”

  “You what?”

  “Well, I made him unhappy. Put a lot of pressure on him, paid the bills, robbed him of his manhood …”

  “You did all that for him?” The older woman smiled and Jessica smiled too. “Don’t you suppose he could have said no?” Jessica thought about it and then nodded.