As they drive in silence an ache begins to spread over her body, despite the contented numbness the alcohol provides; an emotional ache is forcing her to become fully aware that she misses Jet. Misses him despite what he has done. A tear escapes and falls down her cheek. She quickly wipes it and sniffles.
“Are you ok?” Jordy asks, trying to look at her and the road at the same time. She shakes her head. “No. I’m not ok.” The tears come streaming out now, changing her voice. “I’m so angry with him.”
“Who? Jet?”
“Yes. I really, really liked him, and he goes and messes it all up. The one truly good relationship prospect I’ve ever had.”
“But, you’ve only been with him for a week.”
“What started between us, started five years ago and it didn’t end. And what we had is so different to anything else I’ve experienced. It was so alive and intense and instantaneous.”
“You it owe to him to work it out then, if things were that promising. Perhaps this foetus isn’t his. You told me yourself, he’s a decent guy. Could it be possible he’s telling the truth?”
Autumn wipes the tears away with her t-shirt and finds a tissue in the glove box to wipe her nose. She looks at Jordy and shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Talk to him, Autumn. This relationship has reason to be salvaged.”
They pull up at the curb outside her apartment and the form of a man stalks out of the shadows. A man whose eyes are so forlorn it can only be one person.
“Here,” says Jordy pointing towards the figure. “You have a chance. I assume that’s Jet.”
Autumn’s eyes dart across the darkness until she sees him and nods. “Yes, that’s him.”
Chapter 18
Jet walks towards Autumn as she clumsily steps out the car, closing the door behind her. She staggers to him. She doesn’t speak, or smile, or even frown. Jet waits for Jordy to drive off before he speaks, but she beats him to it.
“Aren’t you supposed to be coming home tomorrow?”
He flounders for a moment, his mouth flapping. “I was supposed to be, but I caught an earlier flight. I need to talk to you, to explain.”
She looks towards the dark street. “I’m willing to hear you out.”
Jet sighs. “Good. Thank you. I know you don’t think I deserve it, but,” he stops talking, watches her closely. “Are you drunk?”
She grabs her keys from her pocket and lurches towards her apartment foyer. “Very.”
“Fantastic,” he says sarcastically, jogging to catch up as she strides through the foyer towards the lifts.
They ride the elevator to her apartment. Inside Tae and Jace are sitting on the lounge watching the television. They jump to their feet when Autumn walks in, Jet trailing behind.
“This is Jet,” she says, gesturing her hand in a non-committal fashion. “Jet this is Tae and Jace.”
“Ah, yeah. We’ve met. A few times,” says Jet.
“He’s been pestering us for the last two hours, wondering when you’ll be coming home,” says Tae.
“Well I’m home now.”
Hearing the slur in Autumn’s speech and noting her haphazard demeanour, Tae says, “Autumn, you’re totally drunk.”
“Why does every one keep saying that?”
“Because you are. Would you like me to make you both a coffee?”
Autumn nods.
“Yes thanks, Tae,” say Jet.
Jace shuffles after Tae to help with the coffees and to save himself from being in the room with Autumn and Jet while the air is fuelled with such tangible friction. With only enough time for Autumn and Jet to engage in heavily charged small-talk, Tae brings them both a coffee and places the mugs on the coffee table. Tae excuses herself to give them privacy.
“We’ll be in the bedroom if you need us at all,” Jace says to Autumn, then gives Jet a scathing glare.
“Thanks. But I’ll be fine.”
Jace nods and follows Tae from the room.
Autumn leans back against the lounge and huffs. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, explain,” she says.
Jet takes a deep breath, disconcerted by Autumn’s intoxicated condition but unwilling to lose this opportunity. “I’m, firstly, so sorry you had to see Blossom in the attire she was in.”
“More like wasn’t in, don’t you think?”
Jet nods. “Yes, that’s a more apt description,” he says, with a wince. “I’m sorry that you had to hear about her pregnancy like that. I did mean to tell you, I just wanted it completely dealt with before I did.”
Autumn leans forwards, resting her elbows on her thighs. “I’m not sure whether timing is the issue here. Whether you tell me in a month’s time or a year’s time, either way that perfect woman is having your baby.”
Jet sighs deeply. “She’s far from perfect and so we can get this point really clear, it’s not my baby.”
“How can you be certain it’s not? I know you slept with her, hell I got a courtside ticket in your office that day.”
“Yes, we had sex, but I know it’s not mine. You have to trust me on this.”
“Why don’t you just do a—I don’t know—a DNA test or something. Clear it up, once and for all. It seems a bit odd to me that you haven’t already done that if you’re soooo certain.”
“Do you think I wouldn’t have already, if it was an option? Blossom won’t do it. She’s been advised that it’s too dangerous at this stage in her pregnancy.”
“So it’s your word against hers. How convenient. Look, Jet, I’m not willing to get involved in all this bullshit. You made your bed now you’re going to have to lie in it. What was it you were telling me about Karma?”
Jet stands, his fists clenching, his veins straining in his neck. “I didn’t make any bed, Autumn. Listen to me.” He sits on the lounge beside her. “Blossom is trying to play me for a fool and she is ruining things between us. But it doesn’t have to be this way, if you would just trust what I’m saying. That child is not mine.”
“Why are you so certain? How can you be so certain?”
His shoulders fall and he sighs. “I am … I’m sterile, Autumn. I can’t have children. It’s not possible.”
The room begins to spin and it isn’t from the copious quantities of wine. “You can’t have children?”
He flops his back against the lounge and she can see tears starting to wet his eyes. “I had leukaemia when I was eight. The chemo destroyed any chance I had of ever having children.”
“And it’s completely impossible, there’s no chance?”
“Yes. I’ve had it rechecked.”
“Why—don’t you just tell Blossom that?”
“She uses the media against me. She would run to them in a flash and it’s not something I want the whole world to know about. Jethro Stark Shoots Blanks. You can see how I would be more inclined to put up with her bullshit until the baby is born, have the DNA test done, and then put it to rest.”
Autumn nods. “I can see how it is a difficult situation. But I don’t know why you wouldn’t have just told me about all this. We could have avoided all of this mess.”
Again his eyes begin to glisten, his throat tight. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And with that level of commitment usually comes children and it,” he stops and releases a deep, shuddering breath, “it kills me, being unable to provide for you in that department. I’m scared you won’t want a—defective man.”
Autumn’s heart heaves, witnessing the courage it is taking for Jet to admit his situation to her and seeing the pain and feelings of inadequacy it causes him. She shifts closer and places her hand on his thigh.
“Jet. I don’t want children. I’ve never wanted children. I would never intentionally inflict this gift, curse—what have you—on anyone else, let alone my own child.”
Jet’s eyes widen. He shakes his head as though he didn’t hear her right. “You seriously don’t want children?”
“Definitely
not. Why would I? How could I, when there is a chance they will inherit this ability?”
Jet shakes his head again. “You’re still young. You will change your mind.”
“Well if I do, then I do, I’ll have to deal with it then. But honestly, I don’t think I will.”
“I’ve been so worried about this; that you’d reject me and come up with some polite response to end it.”
“And you nearly blow it by not telling me about it, instead.”
“So when you say nearly blow it, does that imply I haven’t completely blown things between us?”
“I guess there’s still a good chance we can see things through, considering I now have all the details.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Right now, in this moment, I’m sorrier than you’d believe. I’ve seriously lived through hell thinking that I’d lost you again.”
“Yeah, well, good,” she says. “You deserve to suffer a little, because I still have to live with the image that you made love to Blossom in all her naked exquisiteness and if you want to talk about inadequate feelings, then just ask me about them.”
Jet’s smile transforms to a scowl. “On first appearances she looks good, but Blossom’s insidious to her very core. When I saw her in my apartment last night, with her fake breasts and fake nose and that ridiculous orange tan, I wondered how it is I ever fell for her charms. It’s easy enough with scalpels, silicone and make-up to make the outside look good, but she can’t do anything to hide the deeper ugly that is the true essence of Blossom Banks.” He shudders. “I honestly, haven’t slept with her for a long time, months.”
Autumn winces. “I don’t want to hear the gory details, please.”
He nods. “Sorry. But I really want to convey to you that you’ve no reason to feel inadequate.” He takes her face between his hands and locks his eyes to hers. “You’re utterly, breathtakingly beautiful, Autumn. Not only physically but spiritually and that’s where it counts most with me.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. “That’s a gratifying answer.”
Jet leans closer. She can feel his lips against hers, his warm breath as he speaks. “It’s not an answer. I believe it with all my heart,” he whispers. He kisses her lightly, lingering at her lips. She breathes in the sensation of being so close to him, the affinity, intimacy. “We’re in it together now.”
Autumn smiles. “Is that a grown-up way of saying you’re my boyfriend?”
Jet laughs aloud. “You could say that. But I don’t know about this talk of being grown up. Where’d you ever get that idea?”
Autumn crawls onto his lap and slings her arms around his shoulders. She kisses him, tastes him with her tongue. “No-one but a grown-up is able to participate in the activities I would like to engage in with you right now.”
Jet runs his hands up her body. “I can always pretend.” He kisses her, pulling her harder against him. “But let’s go back to my hotel. It’s more private.”
“Can you wait that long?”
“No. But we can take our time there, without possible interruptions.”
She kisses down his neck, relishing the taste of his skin. “I don’t care about interruptions.”
“If you were sober right now, I think you would.”
She lifts her head and peers into his caramel eyes. “I missed you, Jet. I really, missed you.”
He kisses her once on the nose. “Me too. Now go pack some clothes so we can make up for lost time.”
Autumn throws her head back, bites her bottom lip to stop from screaming out as pleasure ripples through her body, starting in her loins with an overwhelming intensity and spreading, branching out, filling her body with a shuddering, palpable gratification.
Jet eagerly pulls Autumn onto his chest, presses his tongue to hers, her breasts dangle against his chest and as his entire body tightens and flexes, he comes hard, deep inside her, a guttural groan escaping his throat.
She lies against him for a long moment, kissing, catching their breaths, so grateful to have found themselves in each other’s arms again. As her eyelids begin to grow weary, she rolls onto the bed beside him.
“When I got back to Australia after our time together in India, I was petrified that I’d be pregnant.”
“I would love to have received that phone call.”
Autumn lifts herself into a seated position. “You would?”
He nods. “I know your feelings and I understand your reasons for not wanting children, but I would love to have my own.”
The back of her throat aches as she contemplates his situation of wanting to desperately have children and knowing that he never can. “I’m sorry, Jet.
He shrugs. “I’ve had many years to come to terms with it.”
A lot of things make sense in that moment, many questions are answered for Autumn: Jet’s fatherly attachment to Darshan and his relentless quest to help children in need, his happiness volunteering at the orphanage, each and every one of these activities making up and compensating for his shortcomings. Even his attitude to women when he was younger, knowing he is incapable of creating life with sex, led him to abuse sex for that which it did offer, gluttonous pleasure, with women he was unwilling to commit to because he would never be able to give them what most women end up wanting—babies.
She leans over and kisses him gently. “I don’t want any secrets between us,” she says.
“Me either. I want you to trust me, to know me completely.” He offers her his hand.
Autumn shakes her head, looking at his hand. “I don’t want to know that way. I want to learn about you in the normal way, where we talk and share our lives with each other.”
He lowers Autumn onto her back in a single move and straddles her. “I know you, Autumn,” he says, kissing her lips. “I don’t know you so well physically, but I know you.”
She understands. How else can she explain what exists between them, a passion that transcends beyond the material universe.
“I want you to know all of me,” he says. “I don’t want any secrets between us. I want you to see me for who I am, all of me.”
Autumn does want to see him too. From the moment they met she has wanted it. That’s why she took his hand in the field that day in India and then again under the Bodhi Tree. There is no other explanation. But, with this new quest for normalcy, she believes she must resist, has to restrain from abusing this ability.
“The unknowns are what will make our relationship unpredictable, fresh and new. And it’s not fair to you, I can’t reciprocate,” she says.
Jet shakes his head. “I don’t care,” he says. He kisses her again, her neck, bites at her nipples with his lips. He runs his hands up the length of her arms, pushing them above her head, pinning them gently against the bed by her wrists. Slowly, intimately, he threads his fingers between hers and the images begin to roll towards Autumn like a barrel wave finding its way to the ocean shore. But something happens. Something shifts or opens or closes, she doesn’t know which. Autumn closes her fingers over Jet’s, impelled to hold tight to understand what is occurring. Her eyes widen as the imagines begin to impinge, but they are images, strange images unlike any she has ever witnessed.
They come to her like old, dusty photographs, hazy and lacking full, vivid colour. It’s her and Jet, yet at the same time, it’s not. An old Tibetan couple, with dark hair, eyes, and thickly wrinkled, brown skin, appear in her mind’s eyes. It’s her and Jet, she knows it unequivocally; she and he, in the lifetime immediately before this current life. Autumn is blind, eyes washed white, hair dusted with grey. She is sitting next to a bed, swathed thickly with blankets to keep at bay the bone-chilling cold of winter.
Holding her hand is an old, sickly man, who she knows is Jet. He smells, as he lies supine in the bed, already of death and decay. Anguish fuels every cell in his body, unable to stop his descent into the next life, leaving his much loved wife alone to brave another freezing winter without the ability to see. The old man cries and winces, in
so much physical pain and emotional torment.
“When we meet next time, you will be able to see all of me. I promise you,” he says. “You’ll see so much, every colour, every beautiful flower, the stars and the moon and so much more.” He raises a wrinkled, shaking hand to her cheek. “I’ve been blessed to see your beautiful face every day I’ve known you. Next time you’ll get to see mine too, and I’ll have a face and eyes that will set you alight.”
The old man turns his face to the side and she can see the entire left side has been burned, melted away, leaving a pink, puckered and snarled scar that extends from his chin to his forehead.
“I’ve been able to see all that I’ve needed, my love: your kindness, your compassion, your tenderness, your love, and your soul. These are all I care about.”
“Of course you do and I don’t expect anything different from you. But next time, I will give you more. You’ll see the colours of every season.”
“I’ve always wanted to see autumn,” she says. “It sounds so beautiful the way you describe it to me.”
“Then that’s what I will give you—autumn.” The old man twists in pain and an agonising groan rips from his throat. “Find me, princess. Promise you will,” he says, voice barely louder than a whisper.
Her faded eyes begin to brim with tears. “I will. I will find you. I promise.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too, my love.”
Autumn snaps her eyes open wider and begins to cry doleful tears of loss. Choking sobs flood her throat, tears spill onto her cheeks and roll down her face.
Jet releases his grip and sits on the bed beside her. “What did you see?” he asks, anxiety expressed in every word.
She clambers to her knees and throws her arms around him, pulling him in tight to her body. “Oh my God, Jet. I saw us. I saw us.”
Chapter 19
For a long while, Autumn cannot explain to Jet all that she has seen. She stays wrapped in his embrace as a lifetime of built up loss and grief drains from her body through a bounty of tears. Incessant thoughts weigh heavy in her mind. But along with the thoughts, she finally has been provided with answers. At last, she has a reason, a definite reason why she has the ability to see so much; to see more than the physical. And reconciled are the conflicting emotions she has about Jet and why she feels such a strong spiritual connection with him, why she was drawn to him in India and every day afterwards.
The Paler Shade Of Autumn Page 17
