Jilly picked up her coffee cup and lifted it as if in a toast. “Good!”
“You’re remarkable, do you know that?”
Jilly looked surprised. “Me? Heavens, why?”
“I’ve marveled at your resilience on this whole trip. You come home with problems of your own, and then bam! We hit you with this search for Spring. All your history is hitting you at once, yet you are still able to bring me fresh flowers and a cheery face. I wish I had your optimism.”
“Optimism is what you cling to when you’ve nothing else,” she replied. “Besides, remember those tears we talked about?” Birdie nodded. “Still happening.”
Birdie poked at the food with her fork then set it down, unable to eat a bite. “Jilly, what should I do? I think Dennis has really left me.”
Jilly took a deep breath and exhaled a plume of air. “You know, you haven’t asked me for my advice since you were fifteen. This is quite a moment for me.” After a pause, she looked at her aslant and asked, “Do you want him back?”
Birdie nodded. “Yes. I do.”
“Then you’ll have to work to get him back. Men’s egos are like spun glass. Beautiful, but oh so fragile. I think women are stronger, really. More resilient. But when a woman is as outwardly strong as you, it’s hard for a man to compete.”
“I’m not so strong.”
“Oh, yes you are. You might be feeling fragile now, but you’ll rally again. You’ll set a new goal in front of you like a carrot, then strap yourself to the harness and plow, plow, plow. You’ve always been like that. It’s one of your strengths, you shouldn’t change that. But you might let Dennis be strong with you. Flatter him. Flirt with him. He’s a man, not another child. And he loves you, Birdie. Anyone can see that.”
She plucked at her robe’s sleeve and whispered her greatest fear. “I don’t know that he does.”
“He told me so. Before he left.”
She looked up sharply. “He told you that? What did he say, exactly?”
“God, Birdie, I don’t remember verbatim!”
“Just give me the general idea. I mean, what were you talking about that he’d suddenly tell you that he loved me?”
“Well,” Jilly puffed out air, recollecting. “He was chasing Hannah to get her to go home with him and I was trying to stop him. There was some talk about him leaving you and I asked him if he loved you, or something like that.”
“And he said he did?”
Jilly looked at Birdie steadily and nodded. “He sure did.”
Birdie swallowed the words whole for breakfast and she felt filled with happiness. Dennis had said he loved her…. Hope swelled in her chest. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she said plaintively. “I’ve been calling and calling but I keep getting the answering machine. Where could he be all night? I never suspected anything before but now I’m afraid there might be someone else.”
“Dennis fooling around?” Jilly thought for a minute then shook her head. “Nah. I doubt it. At least, not yet. I wouldn’t have too long of a separation, though. Not now when things are so iffy between the two of you.” She stretched out on the mattress, resting her head on her palm. “I meant to talk to you about this. I know Hannah has to go back to school next week. Maybe you should go back home. Rose and I will carry on. And we’ll call you if anything turns up. You can always meet us wherever. I don’t want you to risk your marriage on account of this.”
“I don’t know what it is, Jilly, but I have a strong sense that I need to be here. With you and Rose, and Hannah, too, to see it through. It’s like I’m recharging my batteries on this trip. I’m feeling like my old self. Sometimes when I’m out jogging or sitting out back just looking at the river roll by, the old me emerges. I recognize her and smile and think, Well, hello again. You’re back.” She looked up. “But she doesn’t stay. I slip back into my old ways.”
“Keep calling her back.”
“I will. I am. That’s why I’m not quite ready to go home yet. Plus…I really think we’ll find Spring.”
Jilly’s eyes lit up. “I hope so.”
Birdie moved the untouched tray off of her lap. “I’m not very hungry,” she said, smoothing out the blanket. “I hope you don’t mind. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“No matter,” she said, standing up and picking up the tray. “I’ll take the tray back to the restaurant.”
“Wait,” Birdie said, holding out her hand. “Don’t go just yet. It’s nice to chat.”
Jilly smiled and put the tray down on the bureau, then, stretching out on the mattress, she said, “It is, isn’t it? Like old times.”
“We used to talk a lot.”
“Incessantly. You knew my every secret.”
“Well, almost every secret. You left out one particularly big one.”
Jilly shrugged and plucked at the lint on the paisley comforter. “Quite.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret of mine,” Birdie said. She looked up almost coyly. “Did you know I was insanely jealous of you dating Dennis?”
Jilly’s head jerked up, shock in her eyes. “Oh?” she said hesitantly.
“I was. I had a crush on him even back then. I used to brush my hair and put on lipstick whenever he came by on his motorcycle to pick you up. Remember how you used to make me run out and meet him at the corner because Dad wouldn’t let you go on a motorcycle? God, Jilly, didn’t you ever wonder why I was so eager? I thought he was such a dream in his leather jacket, with his long blond hair. We used to talk at the curb while we waited for you to come out. Once he even took me for a ride. Oh my, I was in heaven. My arms around him and his leather jacket. I still get goose bumps every time I smell motor oil and leather.”
“You never told me,” she said breathlessly, staring at the swirling paisley pattern.
“I was embarrassed because I would’ve stolen him from you in a heartbeat without a moment’s remorse. I was awful. The way I batted my eyes.” She laughed. “He probably thought I had something in my eye. He was a junior and I was just going into freshman year. That was a world of difference back then. Besides,” she said, feeling a twinge of the age-old jealousy she used to feel for Jilly. “He only had eyes for you.”
“That was such a long time ago.” Jilly’s voice was soft. Birdie did not notice that her hands were trembling. “We were just kids.”
“Oh, I know. Don’t think I’ve got hang-ups about that,” she said blithely, but inside her heart she knew she was lying. “When I saw him years later at Northwestern, it hit me all over again, only harder. I couldn’t believe it when he pursued me that time. Me. Beatrice Season.” Birdie looked long and hard at Jilly. Even though the bloom of youth had faded, she was still a natural beauty and would be at eighty. Birdie knew she never had and never would have that kind of beauty. “I guess I’ve loved Dennis Connor since the first moment I laid eyes on him.”
“You know there was nothing between us. Not really,” Jilly said emphatically.
Birdie looked up and saw that Jilly’s face was pale and drawn. Instinct reared as she read doubt and something else—fear?—in her bright green eyes. She felt a dredging up of powerful feelings that she’d thought she’d outgrown long ago.
“No, I don’t know that,” Birdie replied slowly, voicing a long-held fear at last. She tore her gaze from Jilly’s and looked at her hands, at the gold-and-diamond wedding ring on her finger. “I’ve always wondered, far in the back of my mind, just how involved you two were. I remember how he used to idolize you. But then, so did all the boys. I guess I always was a little jealous that he dated you first. I thought I was past it, but over the years I started putting the dates together and I couldn’t help but wonder—” she paused to gather her courage “—if the baby was Dennis’s.”
She twisted the wedding band back and forth on her finger in the strained silence that fell between them. “Is he?” She looked up, her pale eyes searching. “Is Dennis the father?”
Jilly’s face was as white as the sheets. She sat
paralyzed. Her pale, full lips had opened to a gasp and her green eyes stared back at Birdie with a hunted expression. The seconds ticked by, each one adding to the suspense, each making her more fearful of the reply.
“No!” Jilly replied on a breath. She shook her head, then rose quickly and raked her hands through her hair, holding it in a ponytail at her nape. “God, Birdie, no.”
Birdie wanted to believe her, so badly. Her fear seemed to suck the breath right out of her lungs. She searched Jilly’s face, then slumped back on the pillows with relief.
“I don’t know why but I always had this feeling,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Crazy, I know. I just had to ask.”
“I wish you hadn’t.”
“Hey, you’re the one who keeps saying no more secrets.”
Jilly turned her head away sharply. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s not such a good idea to keep digging around. The spade can hit some tender spots.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.” She began to busy herself, turning toward the untouched tray. The bacon sat in congealed fat beside the cold toast. “I’ve got to go. Are you sure you won’t try to eat something? Maybe a little fruit?”
“Hey, it’s not often I’m not hungry,” Birdie said, striving to get the happier mood back. She watched Jilly toss her hair, a sure sign of agitation, then pick up the tray. Her face was smiling, but her mascara betrayed her with smudges under her eyes.
“I’ll take a piece of that bacon for a friend of mine. I’m going off to find the little beggar.” She seemed eager to leave.
“Okay. Thanks. I am really tired. I think I’ll just go back to sleep for a little while.”
“Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
Birdie slunk down and settled on her side, tucking her hands together under her cheek. She could feel her mouth move into a smile. “If you do, hit ’em with a shoe.”
“Love you, Birdie.” Her voice was a soft whisper at the door.
She yawned noisily and burrowed under the covers. “Love you, too.”
Birdie heard the door swish closed then the click of the lock. Quiet settled heavily in the empty room. She thought again of her long, strange conversation with Jilly. They’d covered a lot of ground. She brought the green thermal blanket up around her ears and yawned once more. As painful as it was, she was glad she’d asked her about Dennis.
She closed her eyes and chuckled to herself, thinking of all that water under the ocean floor. She supposed she and Jilly just shot out a little bit of steam.
18
HER FEET POUNDED THE EARTH with thundering anger as Jilly put more and more space between herself and her sisters. Her speed accelerated, fueled by the whirlwind of accusations in her mind. She’d broken the one sacred promise she had made to herself: she wouldn’t lie for anyone’s sake ever again.
But Birdie had been sick and weak, already devastated by one loss, her heart argued back. How could she hurt her sister with a truth that could be equally devastating? She’d come to Birdie’s room with breakfast and flowers and good cheer, trying to follow Rose’s good example. She hadn’t expected that question, damn her luck.
Because she loved Birdie, she had lied, and given her the best gift she could—a piece of her soul. A noble-enough motive for dishonesty.
Then why did it feel so wrong?
The rainy, gray cold only deepened her depression. She felt her old restlessness rise up within her and jogged for miles, pushing herself beyond the comfort level. At a high rocky ridge, Jilly stopped, panting while sweat pooled, and looked out over the valley. Its vastness seemed to go on forever. Like a lie, she thought to herself, then slumped her shoulders and wept.
On her return path, tired and resigned, she passed Rajiv at the bridge. He was back at his project of clearing the river for the spring thaw.
“Jillian, wait!” he called.
She ignored him, picking up her pace.
This time he ran after her, catching her arm and pulling her to a stop. Her breath was heaving and her eyes shot daggers at him as she yanked free.
“Jillian, let me explain.”
She pushed a lock of red hair from her face. “Explain? There’s nothing to explain. I understood everything.” She started to walk again but he kept pace by her side.
“You think I rejected you.”
“You don’t know what I think.” She kept her eyes on the road lest her flush reveal the truth.
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I was trying to do just the opposite. Jillian, stop, please. Listen to me for a moment.” He stopped in the path, slamming his hands on his hips.
She walked a few steps farther, then stopped, hands on her hips and head bent, catching her breath. She swung her head to look over her shoulder. Rajiv stood straight in his oilskin jacket, jeans and high boots. Mud streaked dashingly down his left cheek like a scar. Their eyes met and the seriousness she found there drew her back to him.
“Is Birdie all right?”
“Much better. Thanks.”
“I’m glad.”
Jilly tucked her hands under her arms and looked off.
Rajiv stooped to pick up a fallen branch and toss it off the path. “It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone,” he said, surprising her with his sudden honesty.
“Actually, me too,” she replied, glancing sideways at him.
“I was thinking of you when I pulled away. But I was also thinking of myself. I’m not sure I want to get involved with anyone. I like my privacy. I like living alone. I don’t want attachments.”
“Rajiv, I wanted to make love with you, not marry you.”
He seemed flustered and looked off, squinting his eyes as though trying to make sense of what he’d heard.
“Look, this doesn’t need to be so hard,” she said. “I accept your apology, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t want to leave it. I’ve made a mess of things between us, I know. I don’t want to get involved but the truth is, I already am. I think about you all the time. You invade my thoughts. It’s most annoying, really.”
She looked up to see the humor in his eyes and couldn’t resist smiling back.
They were standing very near each other, deliberately not touching but feeling the attraction crackle between them.
“I’d like to start over again, if it’s all right with you,” he said. “I’d like to spend some time with you. To be your friend. And then, perhaps…”
“Perhaps,” she replied, her eyes crinkling. She saw the tension flow from his face and his eyes spark. Then she lifted one shoulder and said, “And perhaps not,” before trotting off.
She ran back to her room just long enough to change into jeans and an old sweater, then ran back to the river with Pirate Pete at her side. Rajiv’s head darted up when he spotted her. Beaming, he waved her close.
“I’ve come to be your friend and help,” she announced.
His eyes kindled at her words, then his gaze dropped to the little dog standing loyally by her side. “Friend, are you?” he teased. “It looks as though my friend has stolen my dog. Seems rather cheeky.”
“Ah, now, he’s your dog, is he? What happened to no attachments?”
He bent to pat Pirate Pete. “A man can change.”
She felt her heart flutter and tucked her hands deep into her jeans pockets. “I cheated,” she said, feeling rather like a flirting schoolgirl. “I gave him a slice of bacon today and won him completely over.”
Rajiv straightened to look at her. His gaze flickered across her face and softened as he reached out to pull a fallen lock behind her ear. Jilly knew at that moment that she was completely won over, too.
They began working together, tossing fallen branches, old soda cans and trash from the river and gathering it in bundles to cart away. The sun came out late morning to shine warmly on their cheeks as they raked out leaves that were thick and heavy, freeing the river water to race over the bed of rocks and peb
bles. As she worked she wondered at the unpredictability of fate. She wasn’t looking for someone right now, didn’t really want anyone complicating her life. And neither, apparently, did he. But they’d met and she couldn’t deny that he was different from any man she’d ever known. She saw him only briefly every day, but she felt a kinship with him unlike any other. As they mucked out the river side by side, she felt as comfortable as though they were a couple of old married folks.
Who would have thought serious, silent Rajiv Patel could be such a court jester?
Over the next few days, Rajiv came several times a day to Birdie’s room carrying a pot of steaming, fragrant cardamom tea and special Indian treats—wonderful squares that they couldn’t name that tasted of pistachios and cashews and perfume. When she wasn’t at the library with Rose, or making calls, Jilly enjoyed the visits as much as Birdie.
He always stood near the door, his tall and lean frame relaxed, his long arms crossed, and paid court as though Birdie were a queen on a throne. His eyes sparkled devilishly as he told marvelous stories about his homeland. But with his dark good looks, Jilly thought he could just as well have stood mute. He was pure pleasure to look at. She couldn’t look at his lips without remembering his kiss. Couldn’t see his hands move as he told his stories without remembering the feel of them on her face. Seeing him so close, and yet so distant, was an exquisite kind of torture. She felt it viscerally. She had never wanted a man as much as she wanted Rajiv.
It was late when Jilly came back from the Laundromat and saw a FedEx truck parked in front of the motel’s office. With her heart thumping wildly in her chest she hurried to park the Land Rover, then leaped out and rushed to the office. Rajiv was just directing the deliveryman to her room when she entered. Rajiv’s eyes were flashing with excitement and anticipation crackled in the air.
“I’ll take that,” she said, stepping in. She signed quickly and the driver left, chirping out a “Thank you!” She stared at the envelope, weighing its heaviness. It was from Mr. Collins—at last—and it was thick with information.
The Four Seasons Page 26
