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What Echoes Render Page 17
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“Tell me what you want, Jesse.”
“You, of course,” she whispered. She saw the response in his eyes so she hurried on before he acted on it. “But I don’t want candlelight dinners or dates. I don’t want expectations and I don’t want to have to juggle schedules. I don’t want to argue about laundry or dishes and I don’t want to spend my time talking to my friends about you and explaining why we are or aren’t serious. I know you’re just talking about a date, but with friends like mine, many of whom are newly married, a date takes on a whole new meaning. And with everything else that’s going on in my life, I really don’t want to spend my time explaining myself.”
She was flushed by the time she’d finished. Never before had she had such an explicit conversation. She’d been so young when she’d met Mark and had wanted so many different things.
“You’ve told me a lot of things you don’t want, Jesse. What do you want?”
She hesitated for a second and tried to look away, but his hand, still under her chin, wouldn’t let her. He wouldn’t let her run. So she didn’t.
“I want companionship. I want sex—hopefully, good sex,” she added with sheepish shrug. “I want monogamy and respect and privacy. I want all the good things of a healthy relationship without anything that makes it messy. I want something that’s mine. Something that would be ours. Not something I have to share with or explain to anyone else. I don’t know if it’s even possible, but that’s what I really want,” she added quietly.
“You want your cake and you want to eat it too.”
Her heart sank. He had every right to be offended. But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed.
“I told you it would make me sound like a bitch. But you’re right, I want to have my cake and eat it, too,” she conceded.
“And what do you think I want?” His finger brushed across her lower lip. She blinked. Maybe he wasn’t as offended as she’d thought.
“I don’t know. But I know you deserve more than I can probably give you. What do you want?”
His eyes dropped to her mouth. Like a damned cliché—she couldn’t help it—she licked her lips. His thumb stilled, then fell away. Then he dipped his head down and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was subtle as if he was testing her, testing them. Her heart leapt into her throat at the taste of him, at the feel of him against her. He drew back for a moment as if debating whether to pull back or push forward. And then he was back and it was no test.
With a certainty born of what, she didn’t know, his lips moved over hers as he slid his hand to her neck and tilted her head up. He urged her mouth open and she complied, not once thinking about stopping him. And when his tongue slipped between her lips, something gave inside her and she became more than just a recipient. Opening her mouth to him, pressing against him, she became a participant, wanting to give more, wanting to take more—just simply wanting more.
How long they stood there like that, she had no idea, but soon, too soon, she became aware of David pulling back. Pulling away from her. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her. His lips were damp and he was flushed. He looked like she felt. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say after a kiss like that. And then she knew. She knew what she needed to know.
“What do you want, David?” She repeated the question she’d asked before the kiss. This time with more confidence.
He brushed his thumb across her wet lips once more and looked at her.
“I don’t know, Jesse.” He shook his head. “No, scratch that. I know what I want right now, but that’s not what you’re asking, is it?” It was a rhetorical question; they both knew what they wanted at that moment. But her question was deeper. What did he want and could he live with what she wanted?
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Jesse. I’ve never given it too much thought. I just thought maybe I’d meet someone and it would go from there.”
“Then maybe you should think about it. I know where I need it to go, at least at this stage in my life. If that doesn’t work for you, I’ll understand. But you need to think about it before we just ‘go from here,’ because if it’s not something you want, or can even live with, then as much as it pains me to say this, we’d both be better off leaving it alone.”
“Right person wrong time?”
She inclined her head. “It’s possible, but until you give it some thought, we won’t know.”
For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something, but he pulled back. Stepping away, he gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. “I’ve never done this before, Jesse. Been so intentional about things.”
“I know. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never done any part of this before. Remember, I was eighteen when I got married—I didn’t think about these things then and haven’t ever had cause to since.”
His eyes searched hers as he shoved his hands in his pockets. She hoped he understood what she was saying. This was hard for her too, and she needed him to respect that by giving it the same amount of thought she had—maybe not the same level of thought, but enough to know that whatever he decided wasn’t a whim.
Again he nodded. “We’ll be in touch?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I hope so.”
“I’m back on shift in two days, so if I don’t talk to you before then, I’ll be working for a few days after that.”
She hoped he would call her before then, but she nodded, knowing it was only fair to give him the time and space he needed. It wasn’t as if she was asking him to marry her, but she was asking him to give up a lot of the “usual” aspects of a relationship without having any idea how important those aspects might be to him.
“Good-bye, Jesse.” It didn’t sound final, but still, she didn’t like the sound of it, even as she replied with the same.
And she really didn’t like the sound of the door closing behind him.
***
With a groan of appreciation, Jesse slipped off her shoes, changed into a clean pair of jeans, and padded into her empty kitchen. It was Friday. Finally. And what an exciting Friday night it was. Having just spent a good bit of time going through her deceased husband’s things, maybe she’d even be so crazy as to warm up some leftovers. At least I only have one cat, she thought to herself. A cat who happened to be sitting on the middle of the kitchen island, daring her to tell him to get down when he knew full well he wasn’t allowed up there in the first place.
She sighed, thought about dinner again, then opted to pull out a bottle of wine instead, ignoring Mike, who was watching her every move. She was pouring herself a glass when her phone rang. Like a schoolgirl, for a split second, her heart stuttered as she hoped it was David. She hadn’t heard from him since that day in her office and didn’t know if she ever would.
Glancing at the number she wasn’t surprised that it wasn’t his, but a little shard of disappointment lodged in her belly.
“Hi, Kit,” she said.
“Hi, yourself. What are you up to tonight?”
Jesse gave a dramatic sigh. “I just put on my pity party dress and poured myself a glass of wine.”
“Get out a second glass. I’m coming over.”
“It’s not that kind of party, Kit.”
“It is now.”
Jesse stared at her phone. Kit had hung up on her. And she knew her friend well enough to know that she’d be pulling up the drive in less than twenty minutes. And sure enough, she was.
Jesse greeted Kit at the door, handed her a glass of wine, and then set the alarm behind her. By unspoken agreement, they moved to the couch in the family room. Propped on opposite ends, they pulled their feet up and tucked a throw blanket over their legs.
“So, what’s going on?” Kit asked after she’d settled herself in comfortably with a pillow on her lap.
Jesse gave a reluctant shrug. “I’m feeling sorry for myself. That’s all.”
“Because?”
“It’s no big deal. I’ll be fine. It will all be fine.”
&nbs
p; “Of course it will, but that doesn’t mean you can’t allow yourself a moment of self-indulgence. Come on, lay it on me,” Kit insisted.
She considered brushing her off, but then realized she didn’t really want to. It was kind of ridiculous and maybe she just needed to say it all in order to move through it.
“Okay,” she started. “Here goes. My car is still broken, Ian is investigating eight people who filed complaints against the hospital who he thinks were angry enough to possibly take it out on me, I just spent two hours going through Mark’s things, I’m pretty sure I scared David away earlier this week, and my kids are growing up and moving away. Oh, and I’m contemplating becoming a cat lady.”
Kit chuckled. “I can kind of picture you as a cat lady.”
Jesse glared at her. “Thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for. Now, let’s talk. What’s the story with Ian’s investigation?”
Jesse took a big sip of wine and filled her friend in on what little she knew. Ian, like many rural county sheriffs, was short staffed, so even though he was doing the best he could, things were moving slowly. He and his team had identified twenty-three complaint letters they’d wanted to look into. Over the past two weeks, he’d winnowed it down to six that they thought were worth investigating more fully. Two other patients or family members had been identified through interviews.
“So you basically have to sit tight and hope they come up with something soon. And for someone who likes to be as in control as you do, that sucks,” Kit summarized.
“That and the fact that I’m living with the possibility that someone might really want to do me harm and I still have no idea why.”
Kit wagged her head. “Okay, fair enough. You’re allowed a little self-pity for that. Now, what about Mark? Why were you going through his things?”
She told Kit about the conversation she’d had with her lawyer and how it just didn’t sit right with her.
“I know you probably think I’m crazy, but I’m telling you, it wasn’t like Mark to look into something like that without talking to me about it.”
“Maybe he didn’t get a chance. The fire was just a few months later,” Kit pointed out.
“Mark couldn’t buy peanut butter without asking me first. And yes, before you ask, it was annoying, but after so many years of marriage, you pick your battles.” She sighed. “I know you’re right, though. I probably won’t find anything.”
“But you’re determined to try.”
Jesse nodded.
“I could help,” Kit offered.
“Thanks,” Jesse said with a smile, “but since I don’t know what I’m looking for, it would probably be better if I did it myself. You only knew him peripherally at best and only for a short time. I’m probably the only one who would notice something out of character for him amongst his things. But thank you.”
Kit seemed to consider her answer as she took a sip of wine. Then, curling the glass against her chest like an evil villain plotting, Kit asked, “And what about David?”
She laughed at Kit as her friend waggled her eyebrows. Jesse shook her head. “Ugh. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Try telling me what happened.”
“I need more wine for that.”
“Easy enough to remedy.” Kit rose and headed off to the kitchen, returning a moment later with the wine bottle. She topped them both off then plopped herself back down and gave Jesse an expectant look.
“I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this,” Jesse said. And then she proceeded to do just that. She told her friend everything, from what she’d said to what he’d said—she even told Kit about the kiss. When she was done, her friend was staring at her, wide eyed, her wineglass held loosely in her hands on her lap.
“Wow.” Kit managed to say. “I’m proud of you. Surprised, but proud.”
“Yeah, it felt great to lay it all out there, but I haven’t heard from him since and I’m wondering if I ever will.” Jesse was feeling a little snarky and didn’t bother to keep it from her tone.
“You said he was working yesterday. Do you know if he is still working? You said he doesn’t generally call when he works,” Kit pointed out.
“I don’t know if he’s working or not. I imagine so. I think his last two shifts lasted three nights, but they both started on Fridays. I don’t know if it’s different when he starts on a Thursday.”
They sat in silence for a long moment, each drinking their wine. Then, finally, Jesse asked the question that had been rolling around in her head ever since David had left her office.
“Do you think I’m being too demanding? I feel like kind of a bitch. If anyone knows relationships are about compromise, it’s me, and I didn’t leave much room for that.”
“Do you want to get married again, Jesse?”
She drew her head back in surprise at the question then frowned. “I’ve always thought that no, I don’t want to get married again. Don’t get me wrong, Mark and I built a good life. We had fun together and raised two great kids together. But it’s a lot of work. I’m not sure I want to do that again.”
“But you aren’t closed off from companionship?” Kit pressed.
Jesse gave a rueful laugh as she thought about that kiss. “Obviously not.”
“Then I think you did the right thing. Hey, what do I know? I’m just your friend. I’m not a relationship expert and I’ve never even met David, but I’m glad you laid it all out there if only to make it clear to yourself.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, even if you end up compromising on some of the things you want or don’t want, he probably has a better idea of where you’re coming from based on that conversation,” Kit answered.
“But what if I don’t want to compromise? Or what if maybe there are things I might compromise on, but based on that conversation, he doesn’t think I will, so he’s now walking away?” She paused for a moment then asked, “Also, is it just me or do I sound like I’m sixteen?”
Kit laughed, so did Jesse, even though she was feeling a bit melodramatic about it all.
“If you aren’t willing to compromise, then it was even more important that you laid it all out like you did. And if he needs you to compromise on a few things and doesn’t have the guts to at least ask, do you really want to be in a relationship with him anyway—a relationship of any kind? Finally, I know it sounds cliché, but if he turns out to be the type who walks away easily, he’s the type you should let go.”
Jesse hadn’t quite thought it through like that. And when she did, in a way, it made her feel better. Because she knew enough about David to know he wasn’t afraid of a little challenge or of speaking his mind. If she said something that didn’t agree with him, he’d let her know. But then why hadn’t he called yet?
“And he’s probably not calling because he’s trying to pick and choose what he really wants and what he cares about. That and I’d bet he’s probably working.” Her friend spoke, as if she’d read Jesse’s mind.
“Thanks. I know I’m being pathetic, so thanks for humoring me.”
Kit shrugged her off. “You’re fine. Keep in mind, though, if you were like this all the time, it would be annoying,” her friend smiled. “But I know you. You’ll wake up tomorrow and everything will be fine again—not that all your problems will be solved, but you’ll be tackling them instead of being momentarily overwhelmed by them.”
“Momentarily overwhelmed?” Jesse grinned. She liked the phrase. “Speaking of being overwhelmed, where’s your brother? Still with you?”
“He is. But he comes and goes at odd hours. I’m not really sure just what he’s doing and I’d like to think it’s legal since he does most of his work with the government, but then, you know, maybe it’s not.”
And just like that, Kit was right. Everything wasn’t fixed, everything wasn’t fine, but she was feeling a hell of a lot better than she had before her friend showed up.
***
The morning dawned clear and bri
ght and Jesse snuggled into her bed and listened to the birds chirping and singing the morning away. She and Kit had finished the bottle of wine between the two of them, and then, to make sure Kit was sober when she drove home, they’d stayed up late, cooking a light meal, playing some card games, and watching a movie. As a result, for the first time since before the kids, Jesse had slept in past ten.
She contemplated this fact and then smiled. Her life was changing with the boys growing up and moving on. It was a tough adjustment, but there were going to be good things about it, too. Like learning how to sleep in again.
She spent the day running a few errands, working in the garden, and paying bills. She thought about going back into Mark’s office but decided to take the day off from that. At three in the afternoon, she actually took a nap—like sleeping in, it was something she hadn’t done in a long, long time—and was awakened by her phone ringing two hours later. James was due back in Windsor but was calling to ask if he could stay a couple of days to work with Vivi’s twin cousins, Naomi and Brian. If it had been anyone else she would have said “no,” but she knew the cousins well and trusted them implicitly. They ran a security company that focused almost exclusively on digital security—just about the coolest business ever, according to James.
She called the twins to confirm and they enthusiastically repeated their offer, so she called James back and gave him permission to stay. Naomi would bring him home Thursday night when she came out to visit Vivi for the weekend. With Matt still down at the shore for a few more days, she found that the thought of having her house to herself, of being a parent to two adult children—not that she was quite there yet—might not be such a daunting thought after all.
With a charity event on her calendar for that night, she showered and changed. Blow-drying her hair into big, loose waves, she pinned it back on one side with an antique comb Mark had given her years ago. She slipped on a green, silk dress that draped and hugged her body in all the right places and a pair of black sandals with a four-inch heel. She wasn’t interested in anyone other than David, but she wasn’t too proud to admit that it would be nice to catch an appreciative look or two that night.