By Design (4 page)

“My
mother was a debutante in every sense of that word. She’s
eighty,
and she still thinks she is a
sixteen-year-old
at some ball,” Candace said
with a chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong; she is my mother. I love her, but Pearl
is…”

“I
think I understand,” Jameson interjected. Candace looked at Jameson hopefully.
Jameson was
sure
she could detect a
moniker of both guilt and fear in the older woman’s eyes. She could not remove
her gaze from Candace. She felt her thumb begin to stroke Candace’s hand in
reassurance. She was
positive
she noticed
a slight hitch in the senator’s breathing. “I don’t think biology defines
family,” Jameson said. “It certainly doesn’t
define
love.”

“No,
it doesn’t,” Candace replied in a whisper. She stayed locked in Jameson’s gaze
for a moment. Candace’s head felt the urge pull away, but her heart desperately
wanted to move closer to the architect. She smiled weakly and pulled her hand
away to retrieve their plates. “I should pick this up,” she said.

Jameson
closed her eyes. She was positive that Candace had felt the gravity of the
connection between them. She wasn’t at all certain how to bridge the gap that
she was afraid may have just widened. Composing herself, she made her way to
the sink to help. “Let me help,” she offered. Candace nodded with an
appreciative smile. Jameson began to assist in cleaning up from their dinner.
They worked silently but efficiently in tandem. Jameson was surprised as the
last container
was thrown
away that she
felt content in their continued silent companionship. She closed her computer
and
stowed
it in its bag. “I should let
you get some rest,” Jameson said a bit reluctantly.

Candace
nodded her affirmation. She walked with Jameson to the front door. “What are
your plans for Thanksgiving?” Candace asked curiously. “All this talk about my
house and my family; I haven’t even asked you.”

“Same
as every year,” Jameson answered. “I’ll head down to my folks’ for the
weekend.” She was surprised to detect a hint of disappointment in the senator’s
eyes. “You?” she asked.

“Oh,
well, Michelle and Jonah will be here tomorrow night,” Candace explained.
“Spencer, my grandson, he’s still small so Marianne won’t come up this year.
I’ll see them in Texas next month.”

“How
old is he?”

“Six
months,” Candace beamed.

Jameson
smiled. “Nothing quite like a baby; is there?”

“Not
really
, but I did my time in that realm.
I’m happy to be Nana and not Mom this round.”

“I
think I can understand that.”

“Travel
safely,” Candace said.

“You
worried about me; Senator Fletcher?”

Candace
was surprised at the answer that flew from her lips. “Let’s just say I would
like to see you again.”

Jameson
instinctively knew the required response. She leaned in and placed a chaste
kiss on Candace’s cheek. “I will be sure to obey all the rules of the road,”
she promised. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Candace
just nodded as Jameson walked to her car. She watched Jameson pull away and
closed the door slowly, feeling an unexplainable sense of loss. “Wine,” she
mumbled. “I think I’ll have another glass of wine.”

“You’ve
been quiet all weekend,” Jameson’s mother observed.

“I’m
sorry.”

Maureen
Reid took a seat next to her daughter at the kitchen table. “J.D.?”

“What?”

“Everything
okay with the firm?” Maureen asked.

“Yeah;
why?”

“Why?
Clearly
, something has you preoccupied.
New project?”

Jameson
chuckled uncomfortably. “You could say that.” Maureen implored her daughter
with her eyes. Jameson groaned. “It’s not exactly the project that’s the
problem.”

“Difficult
client?” her mother inquired.

“No,”
Jameson answered. “I don’t think I’d call Candace difficult. Puzzling, maybe;
difficult no.”

“Candace,
huh? Would I be right in guessing this is someone you are interested in?”

Jameson
took a deep breath and held it for a few moments before releasing it. “She is
definitely
interesting
,”
Jameson answered with a smirk.

“So?
Engineer?” Maureen guessed.

“What?”

“Well,
you usually are working with engineers. Is she an engineer?”

“Not
exactly.”

“J.D.?”

Jameson
sighed heavily. “Senator.”

“I
don’t think I follow.”

“She’s
a senator.”

“Oooo….moving
on up, J.D.! She
spends
a lot of time in
Albany then?”

“No,
Washington,” Jameson deadpanned.

“Washington
County?”

“Washington
D.C.,” Jameson returned.

Maureen
was puzzled for a moment until the realization hit her. “J.D.?” she questioned.
Jameson offered her mother a lopsided grin. “Are you telling me you
are seeing
Candace Fletcher?”

“Seeing?
Yes. Dating? No.”

Maureen
regarded her daughter suspiciously. “Explain.” Before Jameson could
speak,
her mother continued. “How on earth do you
know Candace Fletcher?” she asked. Jameson was about to answer the question
when her mother got up from her seat, wandered toward the sink, and then
continued. “What’s
she like
? I’ll bet
she’s fascinating. Is she friendly? I’ll bet she is demanding….does…”

“Mom!”
Jameson stopped her mother’s ramblings. Maureen snapped to
attention,
and Jameson snickered at her
mother’s excitement. “Thank you,” Jameson said. She rubbed her forehead in
thought and sighed. “I’m working on her house. Designing an addition and
planning a historically relevant remodel,” she said. “That’s how I know her.”

“How
did you…”

“Steve,
Mom. Remember Steven Russo?” she asked.

“Yes…”

Jameson
laughed. “Steven Russo, Mom; he married Dana.”

“Yes?”

Jameson
laughed again. “Dana Marelli,” Jameson said. She rolled her eyes at her
mother’s confusion. “Now she is Dana Russo,” she said. She waited
for her mother
to catch up. “She’s Senator
Fletcher’s press secretary.” Maureen
nodded
but still was not completely following her daughter’s train of thought. “That’s
how I met Candace.
She’s been
thinking
about this remodel for a number of years. Steven and Dana gave her my name,”
Jameson explained.

“Oh.
So, you are working on her house?”

“Yes.”

“You
are not dating her?”

“No.”

Maureen
studied her daughter’s expression. “But?” she asked. Jameson shifted
uncomfortably. Maureen nodded and sat back down. “What does she think about
this?” she wondered. Jameson just stared at her hands as they rested on the
table. “She doesn’t know?”

“That
I am working on her house?” Jameson tried to be funny. “Of course, she knows.”

“
Very funny
. J.D. She doesn’t know that you are
interested in her?”

“I
don’t know.”

“You
don’t know if you are interested in her?” Maureen asked.

“No,”
Jameson answered quietly.

“No;
you don’t know…or no; she doesn’t know? Help me out here.”

Jameson
intertwined her fingers nervously. “I don’t
know…
I
don’t know if she knows that I am interested in her,” Jameson finally managed.

“I
see,” Maureen replied. She gave Jameson a moment to explain before continuing.
“Jameson,” she called across the table. Jameson looked up. “This isn’t a
passing fancy; is it?” Jameson’s reflective smile was the only answer her
mother needed. “Are you in love with her?”

“I
don’t know her well enough to say that,” Jameson said honestly.

“No?”

“No.
I like her.”

Maureen
shook her head. “So, you would like to…what? Take her to the movies?” she asked
with a giggle.

“Mom!”

“Oh,
please, J.D.! I wish you could see the look
on
your face. You look like a lost little puppy,” she said.

“I
do not.”

“Yes,
you do. It’s
actually
quite adorable.”

“Mom,
come on.
This is
not funny. She’s a
client and I….”

“And,
you what? Jameson Reid,” her mother said
seriously
.
“I gave birth to you. I’ve seen you survive every crush and every crushed
heart. I have not once seen that look in your eyes.”

“What
look?” Jameson asked.

Maureen
took her daughter’s hands. “You think love has a
timetable
?”

“I
think love takes time.”

“Relationships
take time, J.D.,” her mother answered. “Love happens in an instant.” Jameson hung
her head and swallowed hard. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I
don’t know,” Jameson answered truthfully. “I never
worried
about someone…I mean about what might….”

“You’ve
never been in love before,” her mother said plainly. “Give it some time.”

“You
just said there is no
timetable
,” Jameson
reminded her mother.

“And,
you just admitted you’re at the very least, falling
in love
her without even knowing it,” Maureen said. Jameson shook
her head. “I also said that relationships take time. So, give her some. Give
yourself some.”

“What
if she doesn’t…”

“Then
you will cry the tears you need to cry and pick yourself up,” Maureen told
Jameson. “But, I’m not convinced that is what has you the most worried.”

“What
do you mean?” Jameson asked.

“I
think you know,” her mother said. “You’ve waited a long time
to even consider
wanting a relationship with
someone. Maybe you had just resigned yourself to the idea that you never
would.”

“I’ve
had relationships.”

“You
know what I mean. Two months of weekend wantonness and a few romps in the
backseat of your old Mustang in high school are not what I was referring to,”
her mother said.

Jameson
laughed and then grew serious. “She’s out of my league.”

“Hardly.”
Jameson looked up to a pair of motherly eyes that shone with pride. “She’d be
lucky to have you; any woman would.”

“You’re
bias.”

“No,
I’m not.
 
But, if she’s the one who has
finally captured your heart
….
Well, I’d
imagine she must be an extraordinary woman,” Maureen observed.

“She
is,” Jameson said.

Maureen
put her hand on her daughter’s cheek and smiled. “Take your time, J.D.” She
pulled out her chair and reached her feet, stopping to place a kiss on
Jameson’s head. “And, I wouldn’t be in a hurry to tell your father.”

Jameson
was confused. Her father had never had an issue with her sexuality or any of
the girlfriends she had brought home. She combed her thoughts for the reason
behind her mother’s statement. “Why?” she asked. “You think he will have an
issue with the age difference?”

Maureen
laughed. “Nope, I think he’ll have an issue with the Democrat,” she winked.

Jameson
laughed. “He married you,” she pointed out.

“Ah,
yes; he did,” Maureen agreed. “And, I have never let him live it down,” she
winked. Jameson nodded. “Imagine another Democrat at the dinner table. One that
has opinions; I mean.”

Jameson
laughed. “I don’t think you need to worry,” she said.

“Don’t
be so sure,” Maureen told her daughter. “Stranger things have happened.”

“You
mean like Dad falling in love with you?”

“Nah,
who wouldn’t love me?” Maureen gloated. “But, I fell in love with him. I’d lay
odds you can catch Senator Fletcher.”

“I
guess time will tell,” Jameson mumbled.

Maureen
made her way out of the kitchen and stopped
for
a moment
to look back at her daughter. She just smiled. “Guess I know
who we’ll be voting for in the next election,” she mused.

***

“Mom?”
Michelle called to Candace.

“Hum?”

“You
know Marianne doesn’t mean to be such a…”

“Bitch?”
Candace finished her daughter’s statement. Michelle sniggered. “Yes, I know.”

“She
just wishes we were all closer, I think,” Michelle offered. Candace just
smiled. Michelle was the typical middle child. She had always been the
peacemaker. They had just returned from taking Jonah to the airport for his
flight home. Candace had enjoyed the weekend with her two younger children;
although they were no longer children. Pearl had joined them on Saturday
afternoon for a late lunch and some old movies. They had all agreed to an
internet chat with Marianne in the late afternoon that day. It had started out
well. The kids were catching up and
cooing
over little Spencer. Then it turned ugly.

Pearl
mentioned the remodel of the house and she and Candace began to talk about
Jameson and her plans. Marianne’s reaction was less than accommodating, and far
below interested. She had scolded her mother that it was a waste of time and
money. None of the children wanted to live in that house. Why on earth was she
so adamant about investing in something like an old house? After all, Candace
was in Washington the majority of the year. And, Marianne wondered what kind of
accomplished architect would accept such a project. Candace had grown used to
Marianne’s harsh criticisms regarding her choice of living arrangements, and
her desire to continue working until such time as she deemed retirement was
necessary or wanted. Candace did not appreciate her daughter’s freely given
assessments about her life, but it was not a battle she felt was worthy of her
energy. She had no intention of changing her home, nor any inclination to
change her career. Sooner or later, she was positive Marianne would give up the
ghost and learn to live with it all. Marianne’s comments and unsolicited
assumptions about Jameson had touched a nerve in Candace. No one anticipated
Candace’s reaction.

“An architect? Mother, are you sure this woman is
an architect
and not some scam artist?”

Candace held her temper in check. “I do know how
to check references, Marianne.”

“Yes, well; you also give everyone the benefit of
the doubt.”

“She’s a good friend of Dana and Steve’s; if you
must know. And, she is quite accomplished,” Candace said. She mentally pictured
Jameson and smiled.

“Why on earth would a successful person such as you
have described want to wander around some old house in the boonies? Are you
sure she isn’t after something else?”

Pearl was watching Candace from across the room
and immediately caught the senator’s change in expression. “Uh oh,” she
whispered to Michelle.

“And, just what do you think she might be after?”
Candace asked her daughter.

“Mother, please. You are a powerful, wealthy
woman. How is it that someone as educated and intelligent as you are, cannot
see the handwriting on the wall?”

“I see all the writing very clearly, Marianne.
Perhaps, you are reading in a different language than me.”

“I am
simply
trying to protect you.”

Candace took a deep breath and steadied herself.
She prided herself on maintaining control when arguments arose. She had always
guided her children with a firm yet gentle hand. Few times in the
past
had Candace ever raised her voice to one
of her children, even when she had been furious about one of their actions or
decisions. Marianne had just entered treacherous waters with her mother.
Candace was about to tell her daughter to tread lightly.

“I appreciate your concern. I am more than capable
of judging a person’s character and motives for myself,” Candace said.