Now and Forever

by Danielle Steel

  “And you do want children?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Nonsense. The whole thing is nonsense, Jessica. But I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. You know where I stand. I love you and I want to marry you. When you come to your senses in the morning, give me a call.” He looked at her pointedly, shook his head, walked to the corner, kissed the top of her head, and patted her shoulder. “Good night, darling. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  She didn’t say a word as, he left, but when he was gone she packed all of his gifts into the large white box he had brought; in the morning she would send it all over to the house where he was staying. Maybe it was an insane thing to do, but she was so sure of it. She had never been so sure of anything in her life. She had put the pearl earrings down on her night table, and now she wasn’t even sleepy. She stood happy and naked in her living room, drinking steaming black coffee, as the sun rose over the hills. The portrait was back on the wall.

  Chapter 36

  “And how’s your young man?” She and Aunt Beth were drinking iced tea after a long ride, and Jessica had been unusually quiet.

  “What young man?” But she wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “I see. Are we going to play cat and mouse, or has he fallen out of the running?” Aunt Beth’s eyes searched hers and Jessie ventured a smile. Cat and mouse, indeed.

  “Your point. Fallen out of the running.”

  “Any special reason?” For once she was surprised. “I saw a rather spectacular photograph of you two, at some very posh party in L.A.”

  “Where in hell did you see that?” Jessica was not pleased.

  “My, my. He must have fallen into considerable disfavor! I saw the photograph in the L.A. paper. Something about a consulate party, wasn’t it? Quite a number of illustrious people seemed to be hovering around you too.”

  “I didn’t notice.” Jessie sounded gloomy.

  “I’m impressed.” And so was Jessie. But not pleasantly so. She was wondering who else had seen the picture. There was no point in being linked with Geoffrey now. Oh, well—like everything else, the gossip would die down eventually. And it was probably much harder on Geoffrey. He had to live with all those people. She didn’t. “Did he do something dastardly, or was he simply a bore, or should I mind my own business?”

  “Of course not. No, I just couldn’t, that’s the only way to put it. I wanted to make myself love him. But I couldn’t. He was perfect. He had everything. He did everything. He was everything. But … I … I can’t explain it, Aunt Beth. I had the feeling he was going to try to make me into what he wanted.”

  “That’s a disagreeable feeling.”

  “I kept feeling that he was checking me out, like a quarterhorse. I felt so … so lonely with him. Isn’t that crazy? And there was no reason to.” She told her about the dress and the diamond earrings. “I should have been thrilled. But I wasn’t. It frightened me. It was too much … I don’t know. We were such strangers.”

  “Anyone will be a stranger at first.” Jessica nodded pensively and finished her iced tea. “He seemed nice enough, but if that special ingredient isn’t there, that special magic … there’s really no point.” It made Jessica think back to that night.

  “I’m afraid I didn’t back off very elegantly. I went bananas.” She smiled at the memory, and the older woman laughed.

  “Probably did him good. He was awfully proper.”

  “He certainly was. And he was wearing white tie and tails while I freaked out and practically started throwing things. I sent back all his goodies the next day.”

  “Did you hurl them through the window?” Beth looked greatly amused, and almost hoped that she had. Men needed excitement.

  “No.” She blushed for a moment. “I had one of your ranch hands take them over.”

  “So that’s what they do with their afternoons.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m sure whoever it was enjoyed the whole thing immensely.”

  They sat quietly for a moment with their iced teas, and Jessica was frowning.

  “You know what bothered me too?”

  “I’m anxious to hear.”

  “Stop teasing—I’m serious.” But she enjoyed the banter with her friend. “He didn’t want children.”

  “Neither do you. What bothered you about that?”

  “That’s a good question, but something’s been happening. I don’t think the idea of children frightens me so much anymore. I keep thinking that … I don’t know, I’m too old anyway, but I keep thinking that …” She knew she wasn’t too old, but she wanted someone to tell her so.

  “You want a baby?” Beth was stunned. “Do you mean that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, it’s certainly not too late at your age. You’re not even thirty-two yet. But I must say, I’m surprised.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your fear of it ran so deep. I didn’t think you’d ever be sure enough of yourself to weather the competitition. What if you had a beautiful daughter? Could you bear that? Think about it. That can be very painful for a mother.”

  “And probably very rewarding. Doesn’t that sound corny? I feel like an ass. It’s been bothering me for a while, but I haven’t had the courage to tell anyone. Everyone is so sure that I am what I am. Career woman, city slicker, child hater, now gay divorcee. Even when you stop being the same person, it seems as though no one will let you take the old labels off.”

  “Then burn them. You certainly have, though. You got rid of your husband, the shop, the city. There’s not much left to change.” She said it ruefully, but with affection. “And to hell with other people’s labels. There’s plenty we can’t change, but if there are things you want to change and can, go ahead and enjoy it.”

  “Imagine having a baby …” She sat there, smiling, enjoying the thought.

  “You imagine it. I can’t even remember it, and I’m not sure I’d want to. I never felt very romantic on the subject, but I love Astrid very much.”

  “You know, it’s as though I’ve lived several chapters of my life one way, and now I’m ready to move on. Not to throw the past out the window, but just to go on. Like a journey. We’ve been long enough in the same country; after a while you have to move on. I think that’s what’s happened. I’ve just moved on to different places, different needs. I feel new again, Aunt Beth. The only sad thing is that I have no one to share it with.”

  “You could have had Geoffrey. Just think what you missed!” But Aunt Beth didn’t think she’d missed anything either. There hadn’t been enough fire in the man, enough daring and wild dreams. He was traveling a well-charted course. If nothing else, it would have been very boring. She knew Jessie had done the right thing. She wondered only at the violence of Jessie’s reaction. “Something else has been bothering you lately too, hasn’t it?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Yes, you are. Quite sure. You’re not only quite sure of what I mean, but you’re quite sure of the rest. In fact, I daresay that was the problem with Geoffrey, wasn’t it? It had damn little to do with him after all.” Jessica was laughing, but she wouldn’t say anything.

  “You know me too well.”

  “Yes, and you’re finally beginning to know yourself too. And I’m glad. But now what are you going to do about it?”

  “I was thinking of going away for a couple of days.”

  “You don’t want permission from me, do you?” Aunt Beth was laughing, and Jessica shook her head.

  She began the drive at six the next morning as the sun peeked its nose over Aunt Beth’s hill. She had a long way to go. Six hours, maybe seven, and she wanted to be there in time. She had worn a light shirt for the ride, and a skirt, which was cooler than pants. She had a Thermos full of iced coffee, a sandwich, a bag full of apples, and some nuts and cookies in a tin that the foreman’s boy had brought her a few days before. She was fully equipped. And determined. And also afraid. They had
exchanged letters two and three times a week for two months now. But letters were very different. It had been four months since she’d seen his face. Four months since he’d turned his back and walked out on her after they had both thrown rocks they should never have picked up. And so much had changed now. They were both cautious in their letters. Careful, afraid, and yet joyful. Bursts of fun would turn up on every page, silly remarks, casual references, foolishness, and then caution again, as though each was afraid to show too much to the other. They kept to safe subjects. Her house, and his book. There was still no news on the movie contract, but the book was due out in the fall. She was excited for him. As excited as he was about her house. He was careful always to call it “hers,” and it was. For the moment.

  They were separate people now, no longer woven together of a single cloth. They had been blasted apart by what had happened to them, by what they had done to each other, by what neither could any longer pretend. She wondered if there was a way to come back after something like that. Maybe not, but she had to know. Now, before they waited any longer. What if he expected never to see her again? He sounded as though he had almost accepted it. He never asked for a visit. But he was going to get one. She wanted to see him, to look into his face and see what was there, not just hear the echo of his voice in the letters.

  She drove up to the familiar building at one-thirty that afternoon. They checked her through, searched her handbag, and she went inside and wrote her name on a form at the desk. She took a seat and waited an endless half hour, her eyes restlessly darting between the wall clock and the door. Her heart was pounding now. She was here. And she was terrified. Why had she come? What would she say? Maybe he didn’t even want to see her, maybe that was why he hadn’t mentioned her coming for a visit. It was madness to have come here … insanity… stupid …

  “Visit for Clarke … visit for Ian Clarke.” The guard’s voice droned his name and Jessica jumped from her seat, fighting to keep her pace normal as she walked toward the uniformed man who stood sentry at the door to the visiting area. It was a different door than the one she had passed through before, and as she looked beyond she realized that Ian was in a different section now. Maybe there would be no glass window between them.

  The guard unlocked the door, checked her wrist for the stamp they’d impressed on the back of her hand at the main gate, and stood aside to let her through. The door led out to a lawn dotted with benches and framed with flower beds, and there were no apparent boundaries, only a long strip of healthy-looking lawn beyond. She crossed the threshold slowly and saw couples wandering down walks on either side of the lawn. And then she saw Ian, at the far end, standing there, watching her, stunned. It was like a scene in a movie, and her feet felt like lead.

  She just stood there and so did he, until a broad smile began to take over his face. He looked like a tall, gangly boy, watching her and grinning, his eyes damp, but no more so than her own. It was crazy—half a block of lawn between them and neither of them moved … she had to … she had come here to see him, to talk to him, not just to stand there and gape at him with a smile on her face She walked slowly along the walk, and he began to walk toward her too, the smile on his face spreading further, and then suddenly, finally, at last, she was in his arms. It was Ian. The Ian she knew. It smelled like Ian, it felt like Ian, her chin fit in the same place on his shoulder. She was home.

  “What happened? You run out of hair spray, or did the lizards get to be too much for you?”

  “Both. I came up so you could save me.” She was having a hard time fighting back tears, but so was he, and still their smiles were like bright sunshine in a summer shower.

  “Jessie, you’re crazy.” He held her tightly and she laughed.

  “I think I must be.” She was clinging to him tightly. He felt so damn good. She put a hand on his head and felt the silk of his hair. She would have known it blindfolded in a room full of men. It was Ian. “Jesus, you feel good.” She pulled away from him just to look at him. He looked fabulous. Skinny, a little tired, a little suntanned, and totally overwhelmed. Fabulous. He pulled her close again and nestled her head on his shoulder.

  “Oh, baby, I couldn’t believe it when you started writing. I’d given up hope.”

  “I know. I’m a shit.” She felt bad suddenly for the long months of silence; now, looking right into his face, she could see how much they must have hurt him. But she had had to. “I’m a super-shit.”

  “Yeah, but such a beautiful super-shit. You look wonderful, Jessie. You’ve even gained a little weight.” He held her at arm’s length again and looked her over. He didn’t want to let go. He was afraid she’d vanish again. He wanted to hold on to her, to make sure she was real. And back. And his. But maybe … maybe she had only come back to visit … to say hello … or good-bye. His eyes suddenly showed the pain of what he was thinking, and Jessica wondered what was on his mind. But she didn’t know what to say. Not yet.

  “Country life is making me fat.”

  “And happy, from the sound of your letters.” He pulled her close to him again, and then pinched her nose. “Let’s go sit down. My knees are shaking so bad, I can hardly stand up.” She laughed at him and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “You’re shaking! I was afraid you wouldn’t see me!”

  “And pass up the chance to make the other guys drool? Don’t be ridiculous.” He noticed then that she was wearing the gold lima bean, and he quietly took her hand in his.

  They found a bench to one side of the lawn and sat down, still holding hands. He had one arm around her, and her hand was trembling in his. And then the words began to rush out. She couldn’t hold back anymore. The dam had finally given way.

  “Ian, I love you. It’s all so lousy without you.” It sounded so corny, but that was what she had come to tell him. She was sure of it now. She knew what she wanted. And now it was a question of want more than need. She still needed him, but differently. Now she knew how much she wanted him.

  “Your life doesn’t sound lousy, baby. It sounds good. The country, the house … but …” He looked at her with gratitude rushing over his face. “… I’m glad if it’s lousy, even if it’s only a little bit lousy. Oh Jess … I’m so glad.” He pulled her back into his arms.

  “Do you still love me a little?” She was wearing her little-girl voice. It was so long since anyone had heard that, so long since he had. But what if he didn’t want her anymore? Then what would she do? Go back to the Geoffreys of the world and the fuzzy-haired idiot playwrights from New York? And the emptiness of a house and a gazebo and a swing and a world made for Ian … but without him? What was there to go back to? Staring at his portrait? Thinking of his voice? Wearing the pearl earrings he’d given her?

  “Hey, lady, you’re drifting. What were you thinking?”

  “About you.” She looked him square in the eyes. She needed to know. “Ian, do you still love me?”

  “More than I can ever tell you, babe. What do you think? Jessie, I love you more than I ever did. But you wanted the divorce, and it seemed fair. I couldn’t ask you to live through all this.” He gestured vaguely to the prison behind him. It brought worry to her eyes.

  “What about you? Are you surviving it?” She pulled away to look at him again. He looked a lot thinner. Healthy, but much thinner.

  “I’m making it a lot better than I thought I would. Ever since I finished the book. They’re letting me teach in the school now, and I’m due …” He seemed to hesitate, looked at something over her head, and took a deep breath. “I’m due for an early hearing in September. They might let me go. In fact, it’s almost certain they will. Through some kind of miracle, they’ve knocked out the famous California indeterminate sentence since I’ve been here, and as a first-time offender my time could be pretty much up, if they’re amenable. So it looks like I could be coming home pretty soon.”

  “How soon could it be?”

  “Maybe six weeks. Maybe three or four months. Six months at worst. But t
hat’s not the point, Jess. What about all the rest of it? What about us? My being in prison wasn’t our only problem.”

  “But so much has changed.” He knew it was true. He had heard it in her letters, knew it from what she’d done, and now he could see it in her face. She was more woman than she had ever been before. But something magical also told him that she was still his. Part of her was. Part of her belonged only to Jessie now, but he liked it that way. She had been that way long, long ago. But she was better now. Richer, fuller, stronger. She was whole. And if she still wanted him now, they would really have something. And he had grown a lot too.

  “I think a lot has changed, Jess, but some of it hasn’t and some of it won’t. And maybe it’s more than you want to mess with. You could do a lot better.” He looked at her, wondering about the photograph he’d seen in the paper. He had seen the same article Beth had. And if she could have Sir Geoffrey Whatnot, why the hell did she still want him?

  “Ian, I like what I’ve got. If I’ve still got it. And I couldn’t do better. I don’t want to do better. You’re everything I want.”

  “I don’t have any money.”

  “So?”

  “Look, I got a ten-thousand-dollar advance for the book, and half of that went for your new car. And the other five thousand won’t go very far when I get out. You’ll be stuck supporting me again. And baby, I have to write. I really know that. It’s something I have to do, even if I have to wait table in some dive to support myself in the meantime. There’s no way I’ll give up writing, though, to be ‘respectable.’” He looked rueful but firm. And Jessie looked impatient.

  “Who gives a damn about ‘respectable’? I made a fortune selling the shop to Astrid. What the hell difference does it make now who earns what doing what, for what … so what, dummy? What do you think I’ll do with that money now? Wear it? We could do such nice things with it.” She was thinking of the house. And other things.