by Gerri Hill
Kay finally understood the pain and loneliness that Jackie had endured. Shunned by her family, forced to leave home and make it on her own, alone. God, she couldn’t imagine. But she could see the pain in Jackie’s eyes plain as day. She moved to her, taking her friend in her arms and holding her. She felt Jacqueline’s shoulders shaking, heard the quiet tears.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I was so… so scared. So scared, Kay.” Jacqueline let herself be comforted, relishing the security she felt in Kay’s arms. She let her tears fall, tears she’d kept inside for all these years.
“It’s okay, Jackie. I’m here. You’re safe.”
“Yes. I know. I always felt safe with you.”
Kay tightened her hold, leaning them back against the sofa, gathering Jacqueline closer to her. It was she who had always felt safe with Jackie. She had no idea the other woman felt the same. She closed her eyes, relishing the closeness she felt right now with Jackie.
Jacqueline thought she should feel embarrassed, but she didn’t. It felt too good to cry, to talk about it. And this was Kay, who knew everything. Kay, who was holding her so gently. Jacqueline became aware of the arms around her, the fingers lightly stroking her hair, her own hand that rested comfortably against Kay’s waist. She finally pulled away, afraid she would do something that would embarrass them both.
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed lightly at her eyes before looking at Kay.
“Jackie, you don’t ever have to apologize to me.” Kay reached out and brushed the hair off of Jacqueline’s forehead, looking into eyes that were still filled with pain… pain and tears. “I’m just guessing here, but this is the first time you’ve shed tears. Right?”
“I was too angry to cry. It was the only way I could survive. If I had given in to the loneliness, they would have broken me. I would have begged to come home, I would have agreed to anything. And I knew in my heart that I couldn’t do that. So I kept the anger there, right out front to remind me daily of what they’d done. And I was going to win.” Jacqueline drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin there. “Those first few years when I worked two jobs and went to school full time, it’s just a blur. I was exhausted. But I had no time to think, you know? And really, it seems like it happened so fast. After I graduated, I intended on looking for a real job but by that time, Christopher had already introduced me to Ingrid, and she’d found a publisher for the manuscript I’d been working on. A few weeks later, she had a contract for me to sign. I just had to finish the damn thing. It all happened so fast.”
“And now here you are,” Kay said lightly.
“And here I am, back where it all started. Ironic, isn’t it?”
Kay smiled. “What goes around, comes around?”
Jacqueline laughed. “Yeah, really.” She finally relaxed, sitting up again and grabbing the last piece of meatloaf from her plate. “You didn’t finish your pork chop.”
“And keep your hands off it.”
“You know, earlier when I said I couldn’t stay here, I meant no offense by that, Kay.”
“Oh, I know. It was silly of me to think that you would stay. I mean, this isn’t your home anymore. You’ve got a life back there, a career.”
“Yeah. But after all these years, it still doesn’t really feel like home there. This might sound strange, but being around you, your family, that feels like home. Not necessarily this town, but here,” she said quietly.
“Thank you. Maybe it’s just being around people that love you. Loved you then and still love you.”
“I appreciate you saying that.”
“It’s the truth.” Kay pointed at the glasses Jackie had tossed on the table earlier. “How long have you had glasses?”
Jacqueline grinned. “Must be an age thing. Last couple of years, I’ve used them for reading and the computer.”
“They’re very attractive on you.” Kay again brushed the hair away from Jackie’s eyes. “But I like this better. Your eyes are too pretty to hide.”
Later, after Kay had gone to bed, Jacqueline sat staring at her laptop, her fingers absently drumming the keys, wondering what to make of Kay’s words, her actions. Oh, hell, it meant nothing. They were friends, and amazing as it was, they’d simply picked up right where they’d left off all those years ago. And even though she may still harbor that old attraction, it didn’t mean that Kay was suddenly discovering feelings toward her as well. Because, truthfully, if Kay were, Jackie knew with certainty that she could not handle it. Kay was Kay, this perfect young girl that Jackie had placed so high above everyone else. And Kay had grown into the woman that Jackie always imagined she’d be. A compassionate, gentle woman. A woman who Jackie still measured others against.
She closed her laptop without e-mailing Ingrid. She just wasn’t up to it. Instead, her eyes moved around the room, resting on the envelope still propped up against the clock. No sense putting it off any longer. She fluffed the two pillows behind her and leaned against the headboard, holding the envelope lightly in her hands. Then, before she could change her mind, she tore it open. It was handwritten, and she moved the lamp closer, staring at the words her father had written four years ago.
My Dearest Jacqueline:
I don’t know if I can find the words to tell you how I feel, but I must try. Yo u probably feel nothing but hatred for me, and I don’t blame you. I have no excuse, other than I was weak. Honestly, I thought that you would come back to us, and we could make things right. But you were stronger than either of us imagined. I tried to find you, looking in Dallas first, thinking you would have stayed there. When I got word that you were in Los Angeles, two years had already passed. I went to see you, without your mother’s knowledge, of course. It pained me to see where you lived, where you worked. But I was proud of you. You’d survived. It occurred to me then that you didn’t need or want me in your life. And I can’t say I blame you. But know that I kept tabs on you, just to make sure you were okay. If anything had happened, if you were in trouble, know that I would have come immediately.
It eases my pain somewhat to know that you’ve made a success of your life. I knew, of course, that you were writing. As I said, I kept tabs on you. But your mother, it was a complete surprise to her. To say that she was shocked and embarrassed by your first book is an understatement. Even to her cold eyes, she knew the book was about her. I applaud you. You got it right on. Which leads me to the business at hand.
Since you are reading this, I am no longer in this life. I’m sure you know of Keys Industries by now. And also know that it belongs to you. I worked all these years to turn it into something that you could be proud of, something that I could leave to you and you alone. Know that my heart and soul went into it, all for you. I owe you so much, Jacqueline. No child should ever be deserted by her family, no matter what the cause. There is no apology I could extend to you that would make up for that. All I can offer you is my life’s work. What you choose to do with it is your decision. I only ask that it not fall into your mother’s hands. My punishment was having to live with her all these years. Don’t think I never thought about divorcing her. I did. Many times. But as I said, it was my punishment. Please trust John Lawrence to guide you with the business. He has been nothing but faithful to me over the years.
With that said, please find it in your heart to forgive me. I never stopped loving you, Jacqueline. You were always in my thoughts. My wish for you is to find happiness in this life, someone to share your love with and your life with. I know you’ve been alone. Don’t be afraid to open your heart. You’ve suffered enough pain for one lifetime. It’s time to live and love again. I just want you to be happy. I just want the best for you.
With all my love.
Jacqueline stared at the letter, aware that tears were streaming down her cheeks, blurring the words on the paper. She impatiently wiped them away, rereading the letter again. All this time, he knew where she was, he’d been keeping an eye on her, just in case. Perhaps he k
new that she wouldn’t welcome his presence in her life, not after two years had passed and she’d managed to survive somehow. But he’d been there all along.
Christ. It was her stupid pride that had kept her from contacting him. She’d known in her heart that it was her mother, not him, who had sent her away, but in her young mind, she’d lumped them both together. She pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. And you couldn’t even bother to go to the cemetery when they buried him.
“Goddammit.”
But it was too late now. She could sit here and feel guilty, and hell, she did. But it didn’t matter. What was past was past. They all had a part in it. Any one of them could have extended the olive branch at any time. But no, she was too intent on showing them that she didn’t need them, that she was just fine in this world without them. So much energy wasted, so much time just down the drain, never to get it back again.
Her hands fell limply to her waist and she stared at the ceiling, unseeing. Now what? She really had no choice, did she? The least she could do was honor her father’s wishes.
“What the hell am I going to do with a goddamned lumber mill?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kay held the letter in one hand and a coffee cup in the other, her eyes misting over at the words. She looked at Jackie, then back at the letter, finishing.
“I… I don’t know what to say.” Kay put her coffee cup down, wiping at her eyes. She stared at Jacqueline. “How do you feel?”
Jacqueline shrugged. She’d had all night to think about it, but the guilt she’d first felt had not subsided.
“You have no reason to feel guilty, Jackie. He knew where you were. Hell, he even went to Los Angeles. He could have seen you if he’d wanted.”
“I know. But I think he knew that I didn’t want him to.”
“And you feel guilty because you didn’t want him to?”
“I know, it’s crazy.”
Kay nodded. She could think of nothing to say that would change that. Jacqueline had to reconcile this herself. But she hated that her friend was beating herself up over something that was out of her control. Her mother put the wheels in motion fifteen years ago, and Jacqueline went with it instead of fighting it. Kay reached across the table and squeezed Jacqueline’s hand. “None of this is your fault, Jackie. Yo u were a kid. Yo u just have to accept what happened and go on.”
Jacqueline looked down at their hands, at the fingers that were entwined. Without thought, her thumb moved lightly across soft skin, gently caressing. She felt Kay’s hand tighten and she looked up, meeting blue eyes across from her. She cleared her throat and pulled her hand away, finally realizing what she’d been doing.
“What do you have planned today?” Kay asked. She folded her hands in her lap, her fingers moving over the spot where Jacqueline had touched. It felt different, nice. She and Jackie had always been affectionate with one another, and suddenly she recalled a time in high school when Jackie’s touch had caused her heart to pound—like it was now. It was on a rare occasion when they had double-dated. Billy Ray took them to the local pool hall, a place none of them wanted to go.
“I don’t know how to play pool, Jackie. You know that.”
“It’s easy. I’ll show you.”
Kay looked up, afraid Billy Ray would intervene, but he lit his cigarette and moved back to the bar, sneaking beer from some of his older friends. Danny sat stiffly on a stool near the pool table, his eyes darting around the room nervously.
“I don’t think Danny likes it here,” Kay whispered.
“Who could blame him? We’re in redneck hell.”
“We can leave,” Kay offered.
“Unfortunately, it’s your boyfriend’s car. And I think he’s plenty at home here.”
Jackie took a cue stick and held it out, eyeing the straightness before she tossed it on the table and rolled it. “This one will do.” She handed it to Kay, then grabbed another. “Danny? Yo u want to play?”
He shook his head. “I’ll watch.”
Jackie took the blue chalk cube and rubbed the tip of her cue stick then walked over to Kay. “Here, rub the tip. Keeps it from slipping when it hits the ball.”
Kay watched intently as Jackie put all the balls in a triangle thing, moving them around, one by one. “What’s that?”
“We’re racking ’em. They’re sort of in order.” Jackie shrugged. “Good enough.” She tossed the white ball in her hand. “Cue ball. We use this to break.”
Kay looked again down the bar, watching as Billy Ray gulped down a beer. She slid apologetic eyes to Jackie.
“Don’t worry about him.” Jackie held up a ring of keys. “I swiped his keys.”
Kay’s eyes widened. “He’ll be pissed, Jackie.”
“Big deal. No way I’m letting him drive us home.” She bent over, eyeing the table, her cue stick sliding back and forth between her fingers. Then she drew the stick back, slamming it hard into the cue, causing the colorful assortment of balls to scatter.
“Good one,” Danny said.
“Sure you don’t want to play,” Jackie offered.
“No, thanks. I’ll just watch.”
Kay eyed the table. “Now what?”
“Well, since none went in on the break, the table’s open. Yo u can either have solids or stripes.” Jackie raised her eyebrows teasingly. “Not the eight ball. That bad boy gets to be last.” She pointed to a blue one near the back corner pocket. “The two ball will be easy for you.”
“I’ve never done this before.”
Jackie pulled her close. “I’ll show you.” She stood behind Kay, the hands on Kay’s hips moving her at an angle to the table. “Eye the ball, Kay.”
Kay’s vision blurred as Jackie folded herself around her, hips tucked intimately against her buttocks, arms mirroring her own as Jackie’s hand closed over her fingers.
“Watch the ball,” Jackie whispered into her ear.
Kay was only dimly aware of her arm sliding back. She was vividly aware, however, of the warm body pressed against her own—and the small breasts pressing against her back. She relaxed totally, letting Jackie take over. The cue stick moved in her arms, the two ball slamming into the corner pocket, disappearing from sight. She still didn’t move.
“Good shot,” Jackie whispered against her ear.
Kay was aware of her heart pounding and not much else. She turned, her eyes meeting Jackie’s—blue on blue—and she felt shaken by what she saw there. Then Jackie moved away, giving her room.
“ You’re a natural,” Jackie said.
Kay nodded. “Let’s do it again.”
Kay blinked, bringing herself back to the present, focusing on Jackie as she spoke.
“I’ve got to call Ingrid and tell her what’s going on. Then I’ve got to e-mail her the edits before she has a coronary.” Jacqueline smiled. “And I need to go grocery shopping so we don’t both starve to death.”
“Good. That means you’re going to cook for me tonight.”
“Yes, I’m going to cook, seeing as how you can’t.”
“See? It has its advantages.”
“Uh-huh.”
Kay stood, taking her empty coffee cup with her. “I need to run. T r y not to get into trouble today.”
“I’ll behave,” Jacqueline murmured, her eyes locked on Kay’s backside as her hips swayed beneath the khaki pants she wore. Damn, Jacqueline, you’re worse than a guy.
After a third cup of coffee and one last look at the edits, Jacqueline finally picked up her cell phone to call Ingrid. She couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Where the hell are you?” Ingrid demanded.
“I’m still here. Actually, I’m about to send you the final draft now.”
“Can you work there, Jacqueline? I mean, if they’re not ready, don’t do it. We can just be late on our deadline.”
“No, they’re finished, they’re good to go.” She paused. “Some things… well, there have been some developments, and I have a few things to take care
of. I’m meeting with my attorney tomorrow and then I should be able to head back in a few days.”
“Your attorney? David’s flying out?”
“No. My attorney here.”
“Why do you have an attorney there, Jacqueline? What’s going on?”
“Well, seems I own a lumber company and the various operations that go along with that.”
“A lumber company? Your father’s mill?”
“Sort of. I’m part owner of that, unless my mother contests the will. My father owned another business, Keys Industries. I’ve been part owner of that for ten years now and upon his death, full owner.”
Silence. “Why haven’t you ever told me this?”
“Because I just found out about it.”
“You own a lumber company? How is that possible? You hate logging.”
“Yeah. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“None of this really makes sense to me, Jacqueline. What I want to know is when you’re coming back?”
“I’ll touch base with you on Thursday and let you know my plans.”
“Fair enough. Now, is there anything you need me to take care of here for you? I know you thought you’d only be gone a couple of days.”
“No. There’s nothing. You might give Christopher a call. I think this was the weekend he was going to come visit.”
“Of course. Well, keep me posted, please. And hurry back. Cheryl’s planning a dinner party for the weekend after next. She’ll expect you to be there.”
“Sure.” But the thought of one of Cheryl’s dinner parties was enough to make her want to stay in Pine Springs. She enjoyed the informal cookouts that Ingrid arranged, but Cheryl’s tended to be dress-up affairs with people Jacqueline had little in common with. And of course, there was always the one single woman that Cheryl invariably invited to keep Jacqueline company. And, she admitted, on more than one occasion, she had taken advantage of that, because sometimes it beat going home alone. Sometimes.
