Now and Forever (49 page)

"My God, Jessica, how beautiful you are, my love... beautiful, beautiful, elegant little bird ..." He led her slowly into her bedroom, speaking loving words to her all the way, and she followed him, as though in a trance, until he laid her carefully on her bed and slowly slipped off his jacket as she waited. He seemed to purr at her, and she felt she was under his spell. He had the jacket off now, but the starched white front was still in place. It made him look like a surgeon, and as she turned her head on the pillow, something pinched her ear. She was still wearing her earrings, and she reached up to take them off and felt the pearls fall into her hand. The pearls ... Ian's pearls ... and here was this man undressing in front of her. He had undressed her. She was naked and he was going to be, and he had taken Ian's portrait off the wall ...

"No!" She sat bolt upright on the bed and stared at him as though he had just thrown cold water in her face.

"Jessica?"

"No!"

He sat down next to her and folded her into his arms, but she fought free of them, still clutching the pearl earrings in her hand. "Don't be afraid, darling. I'll be gentle, I promise."

"No, no!" There were tears welling up in her throat now and she jumped past him, pulling at Aunt Beth's quilt at the foot of the bed and covering herself with it. What was wrong with her, though? For a moment she thought she was crazy. Only a few minutes before she had wanted him so desperately, or had thought she did. And now she knew that she didn't. She couldn't. Now she knew everything.

"Jessica, what in hell is going on?" She was cowering near the window, with tears running down on her face.

"I can't go to bed with you. I'm sorry ... I ..."

"But what happened? A moment ago ..." For once, he looked totally baffled. This had never happened to him. Not like this.

"I know. I'm sorry. It must seem crazy, it's just that ..."

"That what, dammit?" He stood in front of her, and he was looking very unnerved by the experience. His jacket lay strangely on the floor, as though it had been thrown there. "What happened to you?"

"I just can't."

"But, darling, I love you." He walked to her again and tried to put his arms around her, but she wouldn't let him.

"You don't love me." It was something she could sense, not something she could explain. And more importantly, she didn't love him. She wanted to love him. She knew she should love him. She knew that he was the kind of man women are supposed to love, and beg to marry. But she didn't, and she couldn't, and she knew she never would.

"What do you mean I don't love you? Goddammit, Jessica, I want to marry you. What sort of game do you think I've been playing? You're not the sort of woman one makes a mistress of. Do you think I'd have taken you to that party tonight if I weren't serious? Don't be absurd."

"But you don't know me." It was a plaintive wail from the corner.

"I know enough."

"No, you don't. You don't know anything."

"Breeding shows." Oh, Jesus.

"But what about my soul? What I think, what I feel, what I am, what I need?"

"We'll learn that about each other."

"Afterward?" She looked horrified.

"Some people do it that way."

"But I don't."

"You don't know what the devil you do. And if you have a brain at all, you'll marry a man who tells you what to do and when to do it. You'll be much happier that way."

"No, that's just it. I used to want that, Geoffrey, but I don't anymore. I want to give as well as take, I want to be the grown-up as well as the child. I don't want to be pushed around and shown off and dressed up. That's what you did tonight. I know you meant well, but I was nothing more than a Barbie doll, and that's all I ever would be. No! How could you!"

"I'm sorry if I offended you." He stooped down and picked up his jacket. He was beginning to wonder about her; it was almost as though she were a bit mad.

But suddenly she didn't feel mad at all. She felt good, and she knew she was doing the right thing. Maybe no one else would think so, but she knew it.

"You don't even want children." It was a ridiculous accusation to be making at five o'clock in the morning, standing wrapped in a quilt, talking to a man in white tie and tails.

"And you do want children?"

"Maybe."

"Nonsense. The whole thing is nonsense, Jessica. But I'm not going to stand here and argue with you. You know where I stand. I love you and I want to marry you. When you come to your senses in the morning, give me a call." He looked at her pointedly, shook his head, walked to the corner, kissed the top of her head, and patted her shoulder. "Good night, darling. You'll feel better in the morning."

She didn't say a word as, he left, but when he was gone she packed all of his gifts into the large white box he had brought; in the morning she would send it all over to the house where he was staying. Maybe it was an insane thing to do, but she was so sure of it. She had never been so sure of anything in her life. She had put the pearl earrings down on her night table, and now she wasn't even sleepy. She stood happy and naked in her living room, drinking steaming black coffee, as the sun rose over the hills. The portrait was back on the wall.

"And how's your young man?" She and Aunt Beth were drinking iced tea after a long ride, and Jessica had been unusually quiet.

"What young man?" But she wasn't fooling anyone.

"I see. Are we going to play cat and mouse, or has he fallen out of the running?" Aunt Beth's eyes searched hers and Jessie ventured a smile. Cat and mouse, indeed.

"Your point. Fallen out of the running."

"Any special reason?" For once she was surprised. "I saw a rather spectacular photograph of you two, at some very posh party in L.A."

"Where in hell did you see that?" Jessica was not pleased.

"My, my. He must have fallen into considerable disfavor! I saw the photograph in the L.A. paper. Something about a consulate party, wasn't it? Quite a number of illustrious people seemed to be hovering around you too."

"I didn't notice." Jessie sounded gloomy.

"I'm impressed." And so was Jessie. But not pleasantly so. She was wondering who else had seen the picture. There was no point in being linked with Geoffrey now. Oh, well--like everything else, the gossip would die down eventually. And it was probably much harder on Geoffrey. He had to live with all those people. She didn't. "Did he do something dastardly, or was he simply a bore, or should I mind my own business?"

"Of course not. No, I just couldn't, that's the only way to put it. I wanted to make myself love him. But I couldn't. He was perfect. He had everything. He did everything. He was everything. But ... I ... I can't explain it, Aunt Beth. I had the feeling he was going to try to make me into what he wanted."

"That's a disagreeable feeling."

"I kept feeling that he was checking me out, like a quarterhorse. I felt so ... so lonely with him. Isn't that crazy? And there was no reason to." She told her about the dress and the diamond earrings. "I should have been thrilled. But I wasn't. It frightened me. It was too much ... I don't know. We were such strangers."

"Anyone will be a stranger at first." Jessica nodded pensively and finished her iced tea. "He seemed nice enough, but if that special ingredient isn't there, that special magic ... there's really no point." It made Jessica think back to that night.

"I'm afraid I didn't back off very elegantly. I went bananas." She smiled at the memory, and the older woman laughed.

"Probably did him good. He was awfully proper."

"He certainly was. And he was wearing white tie and tails while I freaked out and practically started throwing things. I sent back all his goodies the next day."

"Did you hurl them through the window?" Beth looked greatly amused, and almost hoped that she had. Men needed excitement.

"No." She blushed for a moment. "I had one of your ranch hands take them over."

"So that's what they do with their afternoons."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm sure whoever it was enjoyed the whole thing immensely."

They sat quietly for a moment with their iced teas, and Jessica was frowning.

"You know what bothered me too?"

"I'm anxious to hear."

"Stop teasing--I'm serious." But she enjoyed the banter with her friend. "He didn't want children."

"Neither do you. What bothered you about that?"

"That's a good question, but something's been happening. I don't think the idea of children frightens me so much anymore. I keep thinking that ... I don't know, I'm too old anyway, but I keep thinking that ..." She knew she wasn't too old, but she wanted someone to tell her so.

"You want a baby?" Beth was stunned. "Do you mean that?"

"I don't know."

"Well, it's certainly not too late at your age. You're not even thirty-two yet. But I must say, I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"Because your fear of it ran so deep. I didn't think you'd ever be sure enough of yourself to weather the competitition. What if you had a beautiful daughter? Could you bear that? Think about it. That can be very painful for a mother."

"And probably very rewarding. Doesn't that sound corny? I feel like an ass. It's been bothering me for a while, but I haven't had the courage to tell anyone. Everyone is so sure that I am what I am. Career woman, city slicker, child hater, now gay divorcee. Even when you stop being the same person, it seems as though no one will let you take the old labels off."

"Then burn them. You certainly have, though. You got rid of your husband, the shop, the city. There's not much left to change." She said it ruefully, but with affection. "And to hell with other people's labels. There's plenty we can't change, but if there are things you want to change and can, go ahead and enjoy it."

"Imagine having a baby ..." She sat there, smiling, enjoying the thought.

"You imagine it. I can't even remember it, and I'm not sure I'd want to. I never felt very romantic on the subject, but I love Astrid very much."

"You know, it's as though I've lived several chapters of my life one way, and now I'm ready to move on. Not to throw the past out the window, but just to go on. Like a journey. We've been long enough in the same country; after a while you have to move on. I think that's what's happened. I've just moved on to different places, different needs. I feel new again, Aunt Beth. The only sad thing is that I have no one to share it with."

"You could have had Geoffrey. Just think what you missed!" But Aunt Beth didn't think she'd missed anything either. There hadn't been enough fire in the man, enough daring and wild dreams. He was traveling a well-charted course. If nothing else, it would have been very boring. She knew Jessie had done the right thing. She wondered only at the violence of Jessie's reaction. "Something else has been bothering you lately too, hasn't it?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Yes, you are. Quite sure. You're not only quite sure of what I mean, but you're quite sure of the rest. In fact, I daresay that was the problem with Geoffrey, wasn't it? It had damned little to do with him after all." Jessica was laughing, but she wouldn't say anything.

"You know me too well."

"Yes, and you're finally beginning to know yourself too. And I'm glad. But now what are you going to do about it?"

"I was thinking of going away for a couple of days."

"You don't want permission from me, do you?" Aunt Beth was laughing, and Jessica shook her head.

She began the drive at six the next morning as the sun peeked its nose over Aunt Beth's hill. She had a long way to go. Six hours, maybe seven, and she wanted to be there in time. She had worn a light shirt for the ride, and a skirt, which was cooler than pants. She had a Thermos full of iced coffee, a sandwich, a bag full of apples, and some nuts and cookies in a tin that the foreman's boy had brought her a few days before. She was fully equipped. And determined. And also afraid. They had exchanged letters two and three times a week for two months now. But letters were very different. It had been four months since she'd seen his face. Four months since he'd turned his back and walked out on her after they had both thrown rocks they should never have picked up. And so much had changed now. They were both cautious in their letters. Careful, afraid, and yet joyful. Bursts of fun would turn up on every page, silly remarks, casual references, foolishness, and then caution again, as though each was afraid to show too much to the other. They kept to safe subjects. Her house, and his book. There was still no news on the movie contract, but the book was due out in the fall. She was excited for him. As excited as he was about her house. He was careful always to call it "hers," and it was. For the moment.

They were separate people now, no longer woven together of a single cloth. They had been blasted apart by what had happened to them, by what they had done to each other, by what neither could any longer pretend. She wondered if there was a way to come back after something like that. Maybe not, but she had to know. Now, before they waited any longer. What if he expected never to see her again? He sounded as though he had almost accepted it. He never asked for a visit. But he was going to get one. She wanted to see him, to look into his face and see what was there, not just hear the echo of his voice in the letters.

She drove up to the familiar building at one-thirty that afternoon. They checked her through, searched her handbag, and she went inside and wrote her name on a form at the desk. She took a seat and waited an endless half hour, her eyes restlessly darting between the wall clock and the door. Her heart was pounding now. She was here. And she was terrified. Why had she come? What would she say? Maybe he didn't even want to see her, maybe that was why he hadn't mentioned her coming for a visit. It was madness to have come here ... insanity... stupid ...

"Visit for Clarke ... visit for Ian Clarke." The guard's voice droned his name and Jessica jumped from her seat, fighting to keep her pace normal as she walked toward the uniformed man who stood sentry at the door to the visiting area. It was a different door than the one she had passed through before, and as she looked beyond she realized that Ian was in a different section now. Maybe there would be no glass window between them.