by Cherry Adair
Joshua crouched down; his fingers trembled slightly as he slipped the note off the fabric.
"Suspend disbelief," she'd written. "Pretend you are seven years old and you've just come downstairs Christmas morning." Joshua closed his burning eyes for a moment. "I can't be part of your future. I've only been a small part of your present. I wanted to give you back something of your past." She hadn't signed the note.
"Damn it, Jessie." He took a deep gulp of Armagnac.
He carefully removed the cloth then sucked in a breath. It was a train. Perfect in every detail. The Lionel engine, black and shiny, was followed by the coal tender. Behind it freight cars and flatcars carried smaller presents.
The train disappeared behind the sudden mist in his eyes. Joshua sank to his knees, blinking rapidly. Joshua flicked up the on switch. The train started with a whistle and a moment later a puff of smoke rose from the stack. A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. It hurt deep inside him.
She had arranged the track around the room, under the desk, around the chairs and tables. Joshua watched it for almost half an hour, clearing his mind. He had no idea why she'd done it. He didn't want to be charmed.
He stood to refill his glass, absently taking the plate of cookies back to his vantage spot on the floor. Biting into a cookie, he closed his eyes, listening to the clack-clack of tiny wheels on small tracks. He would have given his soul to own this train at seven.
Jessie had remembered.
Jessie who had never received a present until she turned twenty-one. Jessie who'd never owned a toy until she was an adult. Jessie who had never asked him for a damned thing.
A small package slipped from a car as it passed his knee. With trepidation Joshua opened it. Inside was a red Duncan yo-yo. The next package was marbles. The next a Swiss Army Knife. Blue.
Each gift represented something he'd wanted as a child. He opened a gaily wrapped package from under the tree and found the flannel shirt she had promised him in Tahoe. The next box contained a brown bomber jacket.
He tugged off his suit jacket and slipped his arms into the sleeves, smelling leather and a faint, faint trace of Jessie. He slipped his hand into the pocket to pull out the long white silk scarf. She'd heard every secret his heart had revealed and made them come true. She hadn't forgotten anything.
He sat back as the brandy warmed his insides and the fire caressed his skin. He picked up a throw pillow off the couch. It still carried her scent. "Damn you," he seethed, crushing the pillow to his chest. As always the scent of her aroused him. He groaned deep in his chest.
"Damn you to hell," he said. After all, she had sent him there.
He viewed the dozens of precious gifts and mounds of wrapping paper that lay around him, as his train made another circuit of the room. He'd wanted all these things as a child. And Jessie had given them to him. Twenty-seven years later.
As the train continued its route about the room Joshua reached for the last gift beneath the tree. It was a narrow, flat box wrapped in gold paper with an iridescent red ribbon. This gift had been buried beneath all the others, almost behind the tree trunk.
Joshua sipped at his drink. He wanted to believe everything that had happened in his office had been a bad dream. That Jessie had never betrayed him. That Jessie was going to walk in any moment, her liquid eyes loving him, laughing that throaty laugh of hers.
The presents were so typical of her, so unexpectedly right. She knew him so damned well—which was why she had been able to sneak under his defenses and render him senseless.
No. Make that stupid.
He turned the last package over in his hand. His fingers twitched against the bow. He frowned as he looked down to see his thumb caressing the silky gold paper. He felt ridiculously reluctant to open this last gift of Jessie's. As if by not knowing what it was, he could keep her here in the room with him for just a few more minutes.
Why the hell did almost everything that woman did have to charm him so? His gaze lingered on the piles of shiny paper tossed about the room. Had she meant for him to do more than 'suspend disbelief' for the minutes it had taken to open her presents? Had Jessie imagined he was fool enough to believe that bullshit about both the birth control and his vasectomy not working?
The bitterness of gall filled him. He, a man who never vacillated, never had a moment of indecision or ambivalence, was suddenly filled with the most serious of doubts.
More than anything he wanted to believe Jessie's ridiculous story. He shifted from anger to agony in the blink of an eye. It hurt to breathe. He felt as though he were slowly dying without her. Joshua dashed another three fingers of brandy into his glass and tossed it down his throat.
Gasping for air, he waited a moment for the moisture from the alcohol-induced tears to leave his eyes before he glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. The last thing he needed right now was company. Did he have time to call off the evening he'd planned with Simon? Not unless he caught his uncle on the car phone, and what the hell would he use as an excuse?
I came home and Jessie had been here. If I close my eyes I can smell her. She left me every present I'd ever wanted in my life. The box in his right hand cut into his palm. And she took away something I never knew I wanted… until I met her.
He shifted in an attempt to ease the uncomfortable tightness in his chest and leaned against the edge of his desk. He was no romantic fool. The arrangement with Jessie was no different than he'd had with numerous other women. Jessie's premature departure was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"Yeah, right!" Joshua said out loud as the engine whistled and emitted small puffs of smoke. He closed his eyes. The box in his hand crumpled along the edge as his fingers tightened.
The wind picked up outside, clicking small branches annoyingly against the windows. While he had been sitting on the floor playing like a child, darkness had touched the sky and darkened the room. He hadn't bothered with lights. From beneath the chair across the room he could see the narrow beam of the headlight on his train. That small beam, the amber glow of the dying fire, and the little white lights twinkling on Jessie's tree provided enough light.
Joshua put the empty snifter on the desk, then went over to the fire to open the last gift before Simon arrived.
The paper crackled before revealing its delicious secret. The thought made him smile. Just as Jessie had intended, no doubt.
He took the Swiss Army knife Jessie had given him out of his pocket, stroked the smooth plastic with his thumb, then opened the blade and cut the tape.
Sitting on his haunches before the fire, Joshua carefully removed a sheet of paper from inside the box. The paper smelled of Jessie and it took him a moment to open the single fold.
"Joshua," she wrote. "Please forgive me for what I have done to you. Simon and Felix only kept their silence because I begged them not to tell you."
The paper rustled in his hand. What the hell did Felix and Simon have to do with this?
"I never meant to lie to you, but I wanted a baby so badly. I must admit I would have done almost anything in my power to achieve my goal. I erroneously believed I would conceive immediately. I never for a moment thought that I weald fall in love. I think even after I changed my mind about getting pregnant, I subconsciously knew I could never make you love me. There were so many times we were in such a hurry I forgot all about protection."
Yeah. Right!
"I wish I could have been there to love and protect you when you were a child, but since I wasn't, I hope the presents will mean something to you."
"I understand, with your deep mistrust of women, why you didn't believe me about our baby. I know you have been lied to about this before. But the fact remains—we did make this baby together."
Sure, Jessie.
"I know you never want to see me again. I am so sorry for causing you pain."
There were wet splotches blurring the writing. Tears of course.
"If you change your mind… we'll be waiting. If not, then I hope eventually
you will be able to forgive me and find a love of your own."
"I will love you forever and a day."
"Your Jessie."
He was tempted to toss the box and its contents into the fire. He'd had enough. She had managed to reduce him to idiot status with the gifts as it was. The band tightened around his chest, just where his heart should have been.
Damn it, Jessie.
The box contained several items. Joshua rose and turned on the desk light so he could see everything more clearly. He couldn't take much more. He wanted to dispense with this last gift before his uncle came in.
It was hard for him to breathe as he opened the next folded piece of paper. Joshua frowned, rotating his shoulder. What the hell… ? It was a credit slip from Tiffany's in San Francisco. What had Jessie done? Returned all the jewelry he'd given her? It didn't make sense. Stapled to the back of it was a similar receipt, informing him that the rest of the jewelry was at his lawyer's office for safekeeping.
He held on to it for a few moments before setting it on the desk. He was suddenly dying for another drink, but his feet couldn't have moved across the room right then if he'd tried. Intrigued, he flipped open the next document. What the… ?
A cashier's check… for over six million dollars? Where on earth had Jessie got this sort of money? And why was she giving it to him?
He removed a trifolded legal document from Jessie's Pandora's box. It looked well-worn, folded many times as if it had been opened and read many times. Light reflected off a shiny square stapled to the top right-hand corner. His eyes scanned down to the signature at the bottom of the page. He stared for a confused moment at the petition for dissolution of marriage.
He frowned, absently tilting the shiny square to the light. It was a Polaroid picture. A picture of a gangly young girl with wiry orange hair and huge brown eyes, filled with anticipation.
The pain came so suddenly it knocked him to his knees. It ballooned in his chest making Joshua grimace and squeeze his eyes shut as he staggered back against the desk. The red wave washed over him leaving him shaken and breathless. Sweat slicked his skin.
Jessie had managed to do what she'd planned all along. Not content with ripping out his heart, she had managed to induce a heart attack instead.
Headlights swung up the drive. Too far away. Too late.
Joshua snagged the phone, cradling his left arm against his chest. He managed to hit speed dial.
"Hi, this is Jessie. I can't come to the phone right now… "
A firebomb exploded in his chest. Like flame it shot down his arm.
The receiver dropped from his nerveless fingers. It clattered onto the moving engine and then fell to the carpet with a dull thud. Dimly he heard the whistle of the train as its wheels spun uselessly. Then his pulse thundered in his ears blocking out everything else.
The phone. Had to… 911… call… pain… Oh, God. This was it… had to… had…
Black snow swirled, his vision dimmed and he felt himself falling into a dark hole.
"J-Jessieee."
* * * * *
"You're damned lucky," Simon said from his seat beside Joshua's hospital bed.
"I'm fine. It was only a severe anxiety attack." Joshua grimaced, feeling ridiculous.
"It could have been a heart attack. The doctor said it was a warning to slow down."
"Yeah. It certainly had that effect." Joshua moved restlessly beneath the covers, his long legs uncomfortable in the too short bed. "Thanks for getting there in time to help, Simon."
"You scared the hell out of me when I found you. Thank God, I remembered I had a key. When I saw you lying there you were so still, and your lips were turning blue. Hell, boy, I almost had a heart attack seeing you like that." Simon got up to pace. Joshua envied him his mobility. They had stuck all sorts of monitoring tubes into him.
Simon ran a hand through his white hair. "You do what they tell you, you hear? They said twenty-four hours' observation and you'd better comply. I have every intention of going before you do, so don't screw up my plans. Understand?"
Joshua shifted restlessly under the covers before reaching over and removing something from the bedside drawer.
"Explain this to me while I wait," he demanded, his jaw tensing. The machine beside the bed beeped.
"What's th—? Oh. Jessie's divorce papers."
Joshua closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. The monitor beside the bed emitted several high-pitched, nurse-alerting beeps. She bustled into the room, tsk-tsking, and warned him to take it easy. She took his pulse, straightened sheets and generally annoyed Joshua further. Simon gave him a warning look.
The moment the woman left Joshua said coldly, "Simon? An explanation."
"She said she was going to give you the darn thing. Well, there you have it. Jessie's divorcing you."
"Hard to do since we were never married," he said, needing to hear Simon confirm what he suspected.
"Jessie is Vera, son."
The monitor emitted a series of beeps. "It's true then."
Simon nodded slowly.
Joshua sat up against the metal headboard ignoring the tape tugging painfully at his skin from his movement. "Are you telling me that you knew all along that Jessie was Vera? All these years when you casually mentioned the new decorator Conrad and Archie were training, you knew who she was?" He winced as he pulled the needle from the back of his hand.
"Got her the job, myself." Simon stared, fascinated, as Joshua ripped another tape and needle combo off his skin. "Do you know what you're doing?"
"Obviously not." Joshua grimaced as a bead of blood welled on his hand. He looked up at his uncle. "Jesus, Simon. Whose side were you on?"
"You married that poor child and walked out on her without even taking the time to learn her name. She became part of the family that day—someone had to help her. Felix and I took her under our wing. It was the least we could do."
Joshua swore. He tossed aside the blankets, swung his feet to the cold floor and stood up.
"Where do you think you're going?" Simon asked, alarmed.
"There's something I have to do. Then I'm coming back to finish off you and Felix." Joshua slammed drawers. "But first I have to find my clothes."
"She always was a grasping little bitch," Simon said mildly, watching his nephew with penetrating blue eyes. Another drawer slammed.
"Don't call her a bitch," Joshua warned through clenched teeth. "Aha." He found his shoes, then his socks. Why the hell couldn't they keep everything together?
"Grasping."
"Jessie never asked me for a thing, Simon."
"Selfish, then. All women are."
Joshua opened the wardrobe and removed the rest of his clothing. "Jessie is the most generous, kindhearted woman I've ever met." For a moment his hands were filled with brown leather and the mingling scents of Jessie and unfulfilled needs. He tossed the jacket on the rumpled bed.
"Incapable of loving a man, though."
"Bull." Joshua pulled on underwear and stood to fasten his pants. "Jessie is filled with love."
"All she wanted was expensive presents. That's what they all want."
"Jessie didn't want presents."
"Wanted the notoriety of being with Joshua Falcon in public. Liked the Lear, I bet."
"No." Joshua slipped on his shirt. "She didn't care much for the Lear. She said she preferred the commercial flights because the people were so damn interesting." He buckled his belt and looked on the bed for his socks.
"Well, hell," Simon pushed. "A mistress should know her place. She should have taken pride in the fact she belonged to you, darn her." Simon glanced at Joshua from beneath heavy lids.
"A woman doesn't belong to a man like a dog, Simon."
"No? Well, I don't see why she was humiliated when the gutter press labeled her your 'Calendar Girl.' Hell, she knew it was only for twelve months."
"Ten." Joshua plopped down to pull on socks and shoes.
"Couldn't go the distance, could s
he? She didn't even have to put in a full year to reap the benefits."
Joshua searched his pockets. "There were no benefits, Simon. Jessie gave it all back. Hell, the only way I could give her jewelry was to tell her it was fake."
Simon hooted. "And you believed that, son? Hell, a woman can spot a cubic zirconium at forty paces. A clever ploy, no doubt. Women can be very conniving. We men have to watch ourselves. God forbid we give them an inch."
"Give it up, Simon. I know what you're trying to do."
Simon sighed before rising. He gave Joshua a hard look. "Jessie's the best thing to happen to you in your life." Simon turned his back to stare out the window. He watched Joshua in the reflection before he turned around again. "Don't let what your father did with his marriages mark your life. You could change that pattern, Joshua."
"Jessie is a fine woman. She has spunk and backbone and as much integrity as you do—and more love in her than a man could use up in three lifetimes. How could any man be so damn stupid as to let her slip through his fingers?"
"Well, hell," Joshua said caustically, feeling the sting of his uncle's displeasure added to fats own guilt. "Excuse me for being human!"
"We'll discuss your alleged species later, in the meantime what are you going to do about Jessie?"
"What the hell am I supposed to do? She hit me with a one-two punch to the groin."
"Are you sure it wasn't your heart?"
"I doubt she thinks I have one." Joshua slipped the folded piece of paper off the bedside table into the pocket of his jacket. "Didn't I have my wallet when they brought me in?"
"In the nightstand," Simon said absently. "You haven't lost a thing. Jessie gave up everything for you. She gave up a job she'd trained for and loved. She gave up most of her friends. She remained at your beck and call even when you didn't—beck or call, that is." Simon heaved a weary sigh as he rose from his chair. "Tell me, Joshua, have you ever considered what being your mistress does to a woman like Jessie?"
Joshua eyed Simon, who looked as old as he felt at the moment, but said nothing.
"As men, have we ever considered what it must be like when everyone knows the woman we're with is only temporary? Not good enough to have them stick around. Patti pounded into my head how a woman feels. I tell you, son. It stinks. They're forever scorned and pitied. The trash magazines tear their guts out for public consumption. And we turn around and start hunting for the next woman before they even know we're done with them, oblivious to the carnage we leave behind."
