by Julia London
Yet Susanna had tried to pass him, and Asher had caught her elbow, forced her into their bedroom. Susanna had gone wild, then. Crazy wild. He’d been shocked by it. And Riley, God—his poor baby girl. The little girl had screamed and cried and cowered in the corner as her mother had kicked and scratched at Asher because he would not let her go. Susanna had ridiculed Asher, she’d flailed at him, but when Asher had announced that he was leaving and taking Riley, Susanna had gone tumbling over the edge of reason.
She’d been hospitalized again. Dr. Fleming had used terms like electroshock and mixed-state, and medication and therapy. Asher’s wife had been dangerously sick, and as angry and heartbroken and bewildered by it all as Asher had been, he’d had no choice but to take care of her and Riley.
It was Helen’s idea that they move to Cedar Springs, away from the art class and closer to her mother. Asher had agreed, but naturally, the move had come with a price—Susanna had insisted on Summer’s End. It was more than he’d been able to afford at the time, but it seemed to make her happy, and he’d given in. He’d always given in. As angry as he’d been with Susanna, she’d been so frail and so ashamed, and he’d never been able to deny her; she’d always had that kind of power over him.
In Cedar Springs, the struggle for balance had been a constant in their lives. Susanna had begun to cycle more frequently. She would do something outrageous, like the time she’d disappeared and turned up in Cabo San Lucas. She’d called him. “Let’s move here, Ash! It’s gorgeous here!”
Asher had to take off work to fetch his wife from Mexico.
Then she’d cycle into depression again, ignoring Riley, going for days without getting out of bed, or bathing, or eating anything other than junk food. Helen would have to come to tend her daughter and granddaughter. But somehow, Susanna would rally, and Asher’s sex life would go from nonexistent to once or twice a day.
When she cycled, she’d be fine again, but only for a while. Asher had learned to recognize the signs: incessant chatter, grandiose ideas. He’d take her back to the doctors, they’d adjust her meds, and they’d wait. Once, when they were driving back from the doctor’s office in Austin, Susanna had put her hand on his thigh. “I am so sorry, Ash,” she’d whispered.
He’d looked at his beautiful wife, her eyes full of tears.
“I am so sorry. I know you never asked for this. But I don’t know how to stop it.”
He’d covered her hand with his. “It’s okay, baby. I love you.” That much was true. As frustrated and scared and tired as he’d been, he had always loved her on some level.
On the day she died, Asher had known she’d been cycling. She’d been talking about colors and ideas, that incessant chatter. She’d announced she was going to make a painting for the National Museum of Art. She could see it in her mind, this brilliant work, and she’d taken Riley down to the studio to get started on her vision, and it had all gone so horribly wrong.
Asher could not protect his children from all of that truth, especially Riley, and honestly, there were days like today, when he wondered if he should even try. He wanted them to remember the loving mother who maybe had a couple of problems beyond her control—not the maniac. But perhaps that was too revisionist, too unfair to his kids. Maybe the truth would help them. Maybe it would hurt them. He had no idea what to believe.
But one thing he was certain of, as he thought back over the last fifteen years—his kids had been traumatized enough. He couldn’t freak them out by acting on his desire for Jane, no matter how much that tiny voice in the back of his head asked, But what about you?
Riley didn’t say any more about Susanna that weekend.
They stayed through brunch on Sunday, but Asher was growing increasingly restless. He’d left things so abruptly with Jane, and he had no idea what he was going back to, or where he’d go from here. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop wanting her. And it was the most agonizing of wants, because he didn’t know how to have her—the complications were so damn glaring.
But he’d kissed her, and she’d been a presence in his house, a sun to his children, and he realized that this thing in him, the thing he was feeling for Jane Aaron went well beyond a physical attraction. Jane stirred him up, mixed his thoughts and desires and made him feel like a living, breathing man again. Like a man who wanted a woman.
That thought continued to drum in him, the beat different and tenacious. He wanted Jane. He didn’t know if she wanted him, but he wanted her, and he was determined to find out a way.
Asher and the kids were on the road by two Sunday afternoon, and a sense of anticipation was building in his blood. He dropped Tracy off, said a few words to Linda Gail, but was anxious to be on his way. He continued on to Arbolago Hills. He was only mildly aware that Levi was talking about horses.
“Dad, what are you doing?” Riley asked.
“Hmm?” he asked, glancing at her. She pointed to his hand. He was tapping his fist against the wheel. “Nothing,” he said and put his hand down. “I just want out of this car.”
They pulled up to the gates at his house and he groaned; the gates were too slow to open. Why did he have them, anyway? They were an ostentatious pain in the ass. They finally slid open, and he punched the gas, causing Levi to cry out as he made a sharp right and headed down to the garage. He drove around the curve . . .
His heart sank. There was no red Honda in the drive.
Jane had not come back from Houston, and Asher honestly didn’t know if she would.
27
As usual, Nicole was much more grounded about Jane’s feelings than Jane. On the drive back to Cedar Springs, Jane phoned Nicole to tell her what had happened with Jonathan, and she confessed to feeling guilty that she didn’t feel worse about the breakup. “I’m sad. I will miss Jonathan,” she said. “But after three years together, I can’t help thinking, that’s it? I’m just sad? I should be devastated, but I’m not. I’m really okay. I swear, Nic, my family is brokenhearted, but I’m not. Maybe there is something wrong with my ability to connect.”
Nicole laughed.
“I’m not kidding,” Jane said. “I could descend from a long line of sociopaths, have you ever thought of that?”
“God, Jane,” Nicole said. “Did you ever think that maybe the reason you aren’t devastated is because it’s been over with Jonathan for a long time now? I mean except for sex and occasionally having something to do on weekends, you haven’t really been with Jonathan for several months. Think about it. You spent a lot of time looking for your birth mother, you couldn’t commit . . . why do you think he found someone else?”
Jane couldn’t argue with Nicole’s logic. She loved Jonathan—or had loved him at some point—but that love had turned into something else. Deep affection, maybe, she didn’t know. But it wasn’t heart-stopping all-out love.
It was early evening when Jane turned onto the windy road that led up to Summer’s End. She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror—her hair was pulled back into twin bobs, and she was wearing a pink skirt with tiny yellow and white flowers, sandals, and a white T-shirt. She didn’t want to think about how she looked. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was eager to see Asher. Hell, he’d probably written her off as a flake, too. After all, she’d practically begged for a kiss, then had run away. That was part of her pattern lately—so uncertain, always in that fog of indecision. She could see that about herself, but she couldn’t seem to stop it.
At Summer’s End, she punched the code and waited for the gates to swing open, nervous about what she’d find. She continued on, down the drive to the garage, and parked just outside the gardener’s shed. She got out of her car and opened the trunk. She was retrieving her bag when she heard Levi.
“Jane!”
Amazing, she thought, how much lighter she instantly felt at the sound of his voice. She whirled around. “Hey, buddy!” Levi ran for her and threw his arms around her legs. Jane leaned over him and hugged him.
&n
bsp; Riley was right behind him.
“Wow, Ri,” Jane said, smiling. “You look older.”
“Really?” Riley asked, smiling. “Look, Tracy and I got tattoos.” She turned her ankle for Jane to admire it.
“That is mad cool,” Jane said. “How was the birthday?”
“It was great. Thanks for the sketchbook.”
“You are very welcome. Have you used it?”
“Not yet,” Riley said, her smile brightening a little.
“Hello, Jane.”
Jane looked up; Asher was standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. One lock of golden hair fell over his eye. He looked cool and relaxed, and maybe a little reticent. “Hi, Asher,” she said, unable to help her smile. “How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Me, too.”
He nodded. Glanced down. “I’m ordering pizza. Are you hungry?” He lifted his gaze to hers.
Jane’s smile broadened. “Actually, I’m starving.”
“Then I’ll order two,” Asher said and smiled a little lopsidedly.
There was a flurry of activity as Jane returned her bag to the guesthouse and then allowed Riley to drag her to her room and show Jane all the things she’d bought on the shopping spree with her grandmother. Not to be outdone, Levi insisted on showing her his new car.
“Yeah, he got a toy for my birthday,” Riley complained as they descended the stairs. “What am I going to get for his birthday?”
“A piece of cake,” Asher said, appearing in the foyer. “The pizza is here. Let’s sit on the patio.”
They sat around the teak table with their pizza and sodas for the kids, wine for Jane and Asher. Levi regaled them, in seemingly one long breath, about his trip as they ate.
“We went to Schlitterbahn and Daddy and I went down a big slide and Riley and Tracy were talking to boys and Daddy said they had to leave and then we went home and I threw up and it was green because I was eating a lot of green popsicles and Dad said I was going to turn into a popsicle but I didn’t and Tracy has a new boyfriend and they are so dumb they just hold hands and Daddy said Riley can’t have one.”
Jane cocked a questioning brow at Asher with that one; he playfully rolled his eyes.
Levi continued talking about horses until the pizza was gone, intermittently corrected by Riley. More than once, Jane glanced at Asher, and they exchanged a quiet smile over the kids’ chatter. But Asher didn’t say much. It felt to Jane as if he was watching her.
By the time they finished the pizza and cleaned up, the sun had begun to slide into the lake, and the kids decided to go swimming. They splashed around the pool while Asher and Jane sat at the table, finishing the bottle of wine. There was an empty chair between them, and to Jane, it felt as wide as the lake. Asher was very quiet and seemed distant to her.
“Sounds like you guys have had a great few days,” Jane said.
“It was a good birthday, I think.” He looked at Jane. “You look great. Houston obviously agrees with you.”
She blushed. Actually, being out of Houston agreed with her more. “Thanks.”
Asher turned his attention to the pool again. “I guess the boyfriend was happy to see you.”
“Ahem. Well . . . not exactly.” She self-consciously shoved her hair behind her ear. “It would seem he has moved on.”
That prompted Asher to look at her again. “Moved on?” he repeated, as if he hadn’t understood her.
Jane splayed her fingers on the table before her. “In other words, we broke up,” she said and smiled sheepishly. “He has a new girlfriend.”
“Then he’s an idiot,” Asher announced decisively.
Jane couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s not an idiot. But I think he was tired of waiting.”
Asher snorted, but when Jane shrugged, he said, “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
He shook his head. “He will definitely regret that.”
“Thank you,” she said, giving him an appreciative smile. “However, to be fair, I wasn’t exactly giving him the right signals.” She looked at her hands a moment, uncertain how to say what was really on her mind, had been on her mind since the first night Asher had kissed her. “Actually, I’ve been kind of confused.”
When she looked up again, Asher was watching her. “Interesting,” he said, his gaze moving over her face. “That would make two of us.”
She wanted to ask him why he was confused, if it was the same thing that confused her and had kept her up a few nights, thinking. But all she could manage was, “Really?”
He nodded, his eyes locked on hers.
Jane’s belly fluttered. Now she had to ask, she had to know. She felt a little short of breath, as if she’d walked out on a limb without even realizing it. She turned a little in her seat to face him. “I don’t know about you, but somehow I have managed to get myself into a situation I probably shouldn’t be in . . . but the truth is, I like it.”
“That’s a dilemma,” he agreed, his expression inscrutable. “What are you going to do about it?”
The fluttering in her belly took a little dip. “I don’t know . . . do you have any suggestions?”
He pursed his lips together and shook his head. “Unfortunately, no,” he said quietly.
Jane’s heart leaped painfully. She hadn’t understood how badly she’d wanted him to say yes until he’d said no.
“Daddy! Can we watch the hedgehog movie?” Levi shouted.
“Ohmigod,” Riley said at the same time Asher sighed and glanced at his watch. She hopped up to the side of the pool. “I’m going to my room.”
“Okay, buddy.” To Jane, he said, very casually, “Hedgehog?”
“Ah . . . no thanks.” She self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck. She was feeling uncomfortably strange all of a sudden. “I should get ready for work tomorrow.” She smiled and stood up, gathering the wine bottle and the glasses. “I’ll get this.”
She started for the house. She could hear Riley complaining about the hedgehog movie. She could hear Levi splashing in the pool. She could feel Asher’s eyes on her, and yet he did not call her back. Jane wasn’t sure what to make of it, whether she should be grateful or hurt.
The following morning began as if nothing had ever been out of place at Summer’s End. Asher was at work before Jane made it to the house. Carla was her usual cheery self. Jane took Levi to camp and took Riley to Target to buy fingernail polish. She didn’t hear from Asher, and she didn’t see him Monday night.
Her sense of unease grew. Had she alienated him? She desperately wanted to see him and talk to him. Just tell me what is going on. Just explain the landscape to me so I know what it is. In the absence of knowing, Jane took a long, soaking bath. She reminded herself that she’d brought this uneasiness on herself. She’d been up and down and sideways for several months, spinning wheels and kicking up dust, all the while going nowhere. It was time, she told herself, to get her life in order.
It was time to focus on those things that were actually within her control and stop the spinning wheels in her life. She wasn’t going to beat herself up about her thesis any longer. She would finish it when she could focus on it. She wasn’t going to lie awake every night worrying how Asher felt about her. Right now, and for the next few weeks or however long it took, she was going to focus on the one thing that kept her spinning, that kept so many things beyond her reach and her control: finding her birth mother.
“That is the number one goal, girlfriend,” she said to herself. She was resolved. She would search until she could search no more. No excuses.
Toward that end, she was definitely looking forward to Tuesday. She was going to the hospital, and this time, she would not take no for an answer.
28
Tuesday afternoon, Jane marched into the administration section of Cedar Springs Memorial Hospital. The clerk—a box of a woman whose name tag said Brenda—smiled when she saw Jane walking toward her. “You’re back. I knew you would be. You guys always come
back.”
By you guys, Jane assumed she meant people involved in adoptions searching for birth records.
“Did you find a name?”
“No.” Jane put the copy of the microfiche down on the counter between them. “But I found this.”
Brenda picked up the microfiche and read it. She frowned. “That’s it? That’s all they’ve got?” She rolled her eyes. “That is such a Mickey Mouse operation.”
“That’s all I have—but I have an idea,” Jane said. “Maybe you could help me find the name of the physician who delivered me. There had to be a doctor on duty that day, right? One who could deliver babies? Maybe the doctor might remember something? You know, Brenda—is it okay if I call you Brenda?—the more I thought about it, I wondered why I didn’t think of this before!” She said it brightly, like it was a fabulous idea, like Brenda should jump at the chance to help her.
Not that Jane really expected Brenda to jump to help her, and Brenda did not disappoint. She instantly shook her head. And rather emphatically at that. “I can’t do that. I can’t give you employee files.”
“No, no, not files,” Jane said quickly, as if that were preposterous. “Just a name. All I need is a name and I can take it from there.”
Brenda frowned.
Jane leaned across the counter. “It’s the only thing I’ve got, Brenda.”
“Sorry,” Brenda said, not unsympathetically. “We have rules we have to follow. HIPAA regulations have us hamstrung.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, HIPAA doesn’t have anything to do with the name of the doctor who delivered a baby.”
Startled by a woman’s voice, Jane turned to see an attractive woman with strawberry blonde hair and a figure Jane would kill to have. She looked to be in her late forties, early fifties, and her smile was as striking as her cleavage. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said demurely to Jane, and then to Brenda, “now Brenda, hon, you know as well as I do that Dr. White has been delivering babies here since Sam Bass was shot up and laid out in Round Rock. What’s the harm of helping the lady out?”
