Jess glanced at her bedside clock and groaned. Three in the morning—only ten minutes later than when she’d last checked. Since going to bed four hours earlier, she’d logged all of thirty minutes’ sleep, she calculated wearily. This was going to be one of those nights. Meaning tomorrow would be a very long day at work.
With a resigned sigh she threw back the covers, swung her feet to the floor and reached for her robe. Maybe a soothing cup of herbal tea would help, she thought hopefully as she padded toward the kitchen. Mechanically she filled the kettle, turned on the stove, dropped a tea bag into a mug. But her mind was elsewhere. Namely, on her encounter with Scott the day before.
She’d slept little last night and had spent most of today trying, with some success, to avoid thinking about Scott. But she had far less control over her subconscious thoughts, and they kept bubbling to the surface each time she began to drift to sleep.
The whistle of the kettle distracted her momentarily, and she automatically went through the motions of making her tea. Then she carried it to the living room and sank into a comfortable chair, letting her gaze rest on the photograph of Elizabeth prominently displayed on the coffee table. Her daughter’s smile was infectious, her four-year-old eyes bright with enthusiasm and lively intelligence and the sheer joy of life so common in the very young. She would be almost eight now. Finishing up second grade. Looking far more grown-up than she had in this photo.
If.
Jess drew an unsteady breath. She knew it didn’t do any good to keep rehashing the past. To keep asking the “what if?” questions. Her therapist had stressed that over and over again. You had to deal with the bad things in your life, then move on. And Jess had done that. She’d put the “what ifs” aside, learned to deal with her pain and then established a new career—and a new life. No, it wasn’t totally “normal” yet. She still didn’t sleep well. She didn’t eat enough. And despite the support of her family, a deep, aching loneliness was still her constant companion. But no one knew that. In fact, few people outside her family would ever guess the trauma she’d been through. So yes, she had moved on. And she’d felt good about the progress she’d made.
Until now.
Because Scott’s return had completely unsettled her, resurrecting doubts and emotions and questions that she thought had been laid to rest long ago. It had been easy to hate him, to blame him for everything, to think of him as cold and uncaring, when he was miles away. It was a whole lot harder when he stood three feet in front of her, his eyes filled with anguish and regret.
His physical presence also made her remember all too clearly the love and intimacy they had shared before ambition distracted his attention from the things that really mattered. It was one thing to dream about those things from the past, and a different thing altogether to have the subject of those dreams stand only an outstretched hand away in the present.
And she certainly hadn’t expected him to still love her. Not after the hateful things she’d said to him when Elizabeth died. Not after the cold, bitter note she’d sent him following the accident. Not after years of ignoring his letters. Nor had she expected his gentleness, or the quiet calm that seemed to reflect an inner peace and an acceptance of the past, as if he’d come to grips with what he’d done and found a way to live with it.
Her chaotic emotions, her sudden doubt and uncertainty, made her wonder whether she’d been deluding herself all along. Had she really dealt with the past, or simply ignored it, focusing on the events while burying the real issues deep in the recesses of her mind and heart unresolved—and still raw? If she had truly resolved her issues and put the past behind her, wouldn’t she feel some of the quiet calm, the acceptance, that she’d seen in the depths of Scott’s eyes? And if she had truly written Scott off, hated him as deeply as she’d convinced herself she did, wouldn’t she have been able to sustain her righteous anger and dismiss him without a second thought? Wouldn’t she have been able to ignore the love and regret in his eyes?
Wearily Jess let her head drop back against the upholstered chair. The answer to those questions was obvious: yes. But in reality, she felt far from calm. She hadn’t been able to dismiss him. And she hadn’t been able to ignore the emotions she saw in his eyes. Like it or not, Scott’s presence had disrupted her carefully reconstructed existence.
For more than three years, Jess had suppressed memories of the life she’d shared with Scott. But now she could no longer keep them at bay. So with a resigned sigh she let them flow.
Jess thought back to their first encounter, in a business meeting. They’d done no more than shake hands and say a few words, but the spark that leapt between them had made her nerve endings sizzle and left her stunned. He had looked equally dazed. So she hadn’t been in the least surprised when he’d called the next day and asked her out.
From their very first date, Jess had known that Scott was the man she would marry. And when she’d walked down the aisle with him a year and a half later, her heart overflowing with love, she’d looked forward with joy to the life they would build together as husband and wife.
The first few years of their marriage had more than lived up to her expectations, she recalled wistfully. They cooked together, laughing over exotic new recipes. They gardened, a passion they both shared. They took weekend hiking trips. And when Elizabeth came, bringing a new joy and closeness to their relationship, Jess willingly gave up her public relations job to be a full-time mother. It was a decision she and Scott made jointly and with absolute conviction. Her joy seemed complete.
But as Scott began to climb the corporate ladder, things started to change. Slowly at first. In manageable increments. A late night at the office here. A missed family event there. Jess could handle those. She understood that there would be occasional conflicts between work and personal life. What she didn’t realize was that those minor changes were only previews of the major ones to come. Because Scott had been “noticed” by the right people. His talents had been recognized. And as a result, career demands increased. “Rising young executives,” it seemed, were expected to put their jobs first. Always. Period.
Jess tried to cope with Scott’s increased absences and his growing distraction. She watched with alarm as his job became the center of his life. Between his cell phone, e-mail and pager he was never able to get away from the office. She kept telling herself that in time the demands would ease. But as the months, then years, went by and the pace only intensified, she realized that things would never change unless Scott changed them.
So Jess tried to talk to him about it. Repeatedly. But the conversations always followed the same script.
“What do you want me to do about it, Jess?” Scott would say impatiently. “In this business, if you’re not on the fast track, you’re not on any track. And I can’t afford to be without a job. I’m the sole breadwinner. Which is fine. We agreed to that. But I do feel more pressure now to provide us with a good living.”
“Good is one thing, Scott,” she’d reply earnestly. “But I don’t need that huge new house you’ve been talking about. Or the new car. Or a diamond bracelet for Christmas. I’m perfectly happy with simple things. Maybe you could change agencies, find a less demanding job. One that would give us more time to spend together.”
He would frown then, the conflict in his eyes apparent. “I know I haven’t been around as much as you’d like, Jess. But people don’t just walk away from jobs like this.”
“Why not?”
The question was always met with a sigh of exasperation. “I worked too hard to give all this up now.”
“Give what up? The country club membership? The designer suits? Is that what you’re talking about?”
“Is there something wrong with those things?” he’d ask defensively.
“No. Only when they come at the expense of other, more important things.”
“I’m doing the best I can to balance everything, Jess. I’ll just have to try harder, I guess.”
And that’s where the conversation would always end. In a stalemate.
Two years into that lifestyle and after numerous dead-end conversations on the subject, Jess began to notice another disturbing change in Scott’s behavior. He’d always enjoyed a glass of wine with a special dinner, a beer while cutting the grass on the weekend.
But now he went for the harder stuff. A gin and tonic became his standard way to unwind at the end of a long day. And at social gatherings he drank far more than was prudent. It was one more worry for Jess to add to her growing list.
But there were good times, too. Scott was a wonderful father—when he was home. He never looked more relaxed or happy than when he was playing with Elizabeth. And she adored him, reaching out her small chubby arms to him and laughing with glee when he appeared. They had good moments as a couple, as well. In the small hours of the morning he would sometimes curl up behind her, stroke her body and whisper words of love that made her heart ache with tenderness—and with a bittersweet pang for the days when making time for love had been his first priority.
And then tragedy struck. The death of her beloved daughter. Bitterness. Recriminations. The end of their marriage in everything but name. The death of her dream for a happily-ever-after life.
Jess felt a tear trickle down her cheek, and she reached up to wipe it away. With an unsteady hand she raised the mug to her lips and took a sip.
But her tea had grown cold.
Just like her life.
“You look tired, honey. Are you feeling okay?”
Jess glanced at her mother. She usually enjoyed the weekly evening with her parents, but she’d dreaded tonight’s dinner. She’d done her best to camouflage the dark circles under her eyes, the result of several almost sleepless nights, but obviously her makeup skills hadn’t been up to the task.
“It’s been busy at the office,” she hedged.
“I’m looking forward to the iris show,” Frank remarked.
“So am I,” Jess said with a smile. Taking her parents to see the gardens when the irises were at their peak, followed by an elegant brunch in one of the downtown hotels, had become an eagerly anticipated annual outing.
“Speaking of flowers, I need to order some mulch for the rose beds. And I think I lost my Mr. Lincoln this winter. I’ll have to replace that as soon as the shipments come in.” He turned to Jess. “I’m planning to extend the back garden and add a few more bushes this year.”
She smiled. Her father’s rose garden was a neighborhood legend. “How many do you have now, Dad?”
“Forty-five.”
“I don’t know why you even bother going down to the botanical garden. You have your own right here.”
He looked pleased. “Mostly roses, though. I like to look at all the other flowers, too.”
“So have you been working longer hours?” Clare asked Jess, doggedly returning to her earlier line of questioning.
Jess toyed with the food on her plate, and took a deep breath. She might as well tell them about Scott’s visit. After all, they were all adults. They could discuss the situation rationally. “Yes. And not sleeping very well for the past few days. Scott came by on Saturday.”
Her father stared at her in stunned silence for a moment, then threw his napkin on the table and stood. “That’s it. I’m calling John Kane. We’ll put a stop to this.”
So much for rational discussion, Jess thought ruefully. This was the reaction she’d been afraid of. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Dad.”
He planted his fists on his hips. “Are you telling me that you’re not upset by these contacts?”
“No. But he’ll get the message eventually.”
“He’ll get it a lot faster if he gets slapped with a restraining order.”
He’d also get in trouble. Probably big trouble, Jess figured. She doubted the criminal justice system showed much mercy to newly released prisoners who were accused of harassment. And after looking into his eyes, she just couldn’t do that to him.
“Let it go for now, Dad,” she said quietly. “I’ll think about it if this keeps up.”
Her father studied her appraisingly. “What did he say to you?”
She shrugged. “Not much. Just that he was sorry.”
Frank snorted. “It’s a little late for that.”
“I told him the same thing.”
“Did you also tell him to leave you alone?”
“More or less. I shut the door in his face.”
“I don’t like this, Jess,” Clare said, clearly worried. “It’s been a hard few years for you. You don’t need to have your life disrupted again.”
Jess didn’t disagree. The trouble was, her life was already disrupted.
When she didn’t respond, Frank spoke again. “Your mother’s right, Jess. You’ve been through enough.”
Jess looked at her parents. They’d always been overly protective of their only daughter. And while she deeply valued their support and understanding and unqualified love, this was a decision she had to make on her own. She’d been affected by Scott’s return in ways she didn’t quite understand. And until she did, until she made sense of her chaotic emotions and thoughts, she was reluctant to take any action.
“I appreciate your concern. But I want to give this a little time,” she said firmly.
There was silence around the table for a moment, and then Clare spoke. “It’s her decision, Frank. She’ll let us know if she wants us to step in.”
Jess sent her mother a grateful look, then transferred her gaze to her father. He frowned in disapproval and seemed poised to make another comment. But after a moment he silently took his seat instead, confining his response to a single sentence.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said shortly.
So did she, Jess thought with a sigh.
“The welcoming committee’s here!”
Scott grinned at Karen, who stood on the other side of his door bearing a pie carrier in one hand and a plate of brownies in the other. “I’m salivating already. I haven’t had anything home cooked in years.”
“There’s more,” she called over her shoulder as she sailed past. “The cooler in the trunk is filled with lasagna, meat loaf and a bunch of other stuff. Can you grab that while I take these to the kitchen?”
Scott did as requested, returning to find Karen surveying his apartment with a frown, her hands planted on her hips, her lips compressed into a thin line. Here it comes, he thought resignedly as he deposited the cooler on the kitchen floor. He took a deep breath and braced himself before turning toward her
“I appreciate all this food, sis. More than you know. But you didn’t need to go to so much trouble. It must have taken you days to make all this.”
“I’m glad I did. I just checked your freezer and your cabinets. Corn flakes, bread, instant rice, instant mashed potatoes, canned stew, eggs. Is that what you’ve been living on?”
“It beats prison fare,” he replied lightly. “Was the drive down okay?”
“It was fine. But I’m not through talking about you yet.” Her gaze swept over the apartment before returning to him, and she folded her arms across her chest. “This isn’t acceptable, Scott.”
“I warned you it wasn’t the Ritz.”
“It isn’t even a cut-rate motel,” she shot back.
“It’s good enough for now.”
“There was a lovely guest room waiting for you in my house. There still is.”
“I need to be here, Karen,” he said quietly.
She looked at him in silence for a few moments. “Because of Jess.”
“Yes.”
She sighed resignedly. “Well, I’m not going to argue with you about that. It would be a lost cause. But I’m not happy about this,” she said with a sweeping gesture around the tiny apartment.
“I didn’t think you would be.”
“Is this really all you can afford?”
“For now.”
“Does Jess know how you live?”
“No.”
She bit her lip. “Look, Scott, I know you signed everything over to her when you went to prison, but don’t you think you deserve something—just enough to give you a stake to get started again?”
“No,” he replied flatly.
Karen shook her head in exasperation. “Okay, I’m not going to argue with you about this. Yet. Put on your coat. We’re going out to dinner. My treat.”
Scott frowned. “But there’s plenty of food here.”
“That’s for you. After I go back.” When he started to protest, she held up her hand. “Not open for discussion. Besides, after the long drive down here I deserve a night away from the kitchen.”
Scott shook his head bemusedly. “Are you this bossy at home?”
She shrugged. “I happen to be a strong-willed woman.”
“Bossy,” he reiterated.
“Assertive,” she corrected.
“Stubborn, too.”
“If you keep insulting me I just might pack up my food and go home,” she threatened.
Scott held up his hands in capitulation and then reached for his jacket. “Heaven forbid! You win,” he said with a chuckle.
“I’m glad you see the light,” she said smugly.
Not until they were seated in the quiet restaurant and had placed their orders did Karen once again bring up the subject of Scott’s wife. “So tell me how things are going with Jess.”
“They aren’t.”
“Are you giving up?”
“No. Regrouping. Trying to figure out how to break through the wall she’s built between us.” Suddenly Scott’s eyes grew thoughtful as he studied Karen. “Hey, I just had an idea,” he said slowly.
She gazed at him suspiciously. “I don’t like that look in your eyes.”
He ignored her comment. “Maybe you could convince her to talk to me.”
Karen stared at him. “I haven’t spoken with her in years,” she protested. “Why would she listen to me?”
“Because Jess always liked you. And she won’t hold my mistakes against you. I’m willing to bet that she’ll at least be polite.” He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “Look, I hate to ask you to do this. And I don’t know if it will work,” he admitted. “But I’m willing to try anything at this point. She’s shut me out both times I’ve tried to contact her. I need someone to run interference for me.”
Karen waited while their food was placed in front of them, her brow furrowed. “I’m not into confrontation, Scott.”
He tried to smile. “You could have fooled me. You don’t cut me any slack.”
She made a face. “Very funny. You’re my brother. That’s different.”
He looked at her steadily. “I know it’s asking a lot, Karen. You’ve already gone above and beyond. But this means a lot to me.”
Karen was silent for a moment, then she sighed deeply and picked up her fork. “I’ll think about it, okay? Now eat your steak before it gets cold.”
Jess glanced toward the door in surprise, then at her watch. Her pizza order had arrived in record time. Which was okay. For the first time in several days she was actually hungry. She reached for her wallet, then headed toward the foyer.
“You guys get faster all the…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at the petite, dark-haired woman facing her on the other side of the door. Scott’s sister.
Karen nervously hitched up her shoulder purse and offered a tentative smile. “Hello, Jess.”
Instead of responding, Jess glanced behind Karen, her gaze darting into the shadows of the deepening dusk.
“I’m alone.”
Jess’s gaze swung back to Karen, who looked as uneasy and uncomfortable as Jess felt. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?” Karen asked.
“I don’t really think we have anything to say to each other, Karen.” She was amazed at how cool and controlled she sounded, considering her insides felt like gelatin.
“I won’t take much of your time.”
Jess didn’t budge. “Did Scott ask you to come here?”
Karen hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
“Look, Karen, I don’t have anything against you. In fact, I always liked you. But nothing you say will make any difference. I don’t want Scott in my life. Period. I’ve made that pretty clear both times he’s contacted me. I don’t know what else I have to do.”
Karen took a deep breath and held her ground. “How about five minutes?” she persisted. “That’s all I ask.”
Short of closing the door in Karen’s face, Jess was faced with no option but to grant her request. Besides, she didn’t want to hurt Karen. Or be rude. The woman had always been kind to her, and the two couples had shared some very good times. What could it hurt to give her five minutes? In fact, it might help. If Karen saw how resolute Jess was, maybe she would carry that message back to Scott and discourage him from further contact. It was worth a try.
Jess stepped aside and opened the door. “All right. Five minutes.”
Karen moved past her, and Jess nodded toward the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thanks,” Karen replied as she settled on the edge of the couch. Jess perched on the arm of a chair across from her, folded her arms and waited.
Karen gripped her purse and took a steadying breath. “Look, Jess, I really don’t want to be here. But I love Scott. I’ve seen what he’s gone through these last few years. And I want to help him. He’s had a really tough time.”
“Forgive me if I can’t feel too sorry for him.”
Karen seemed momentarily taken aback by the sarcasm in Jess’s voice. “I don’t mean to imply you haven’t, too, Jess. But prison is hell.”
“So is tragedy. And loneliness. And grief. You don’t have to be behind bars to taste hell,” she replied tersely.
Karen nodded. “I realize that. But in addition to everything else, Scott also carried a heavy burden of guilt. He lost the two things he loved most in the world—Elizabeth and you. And it was his own fault. He lived with the anguish alone, day after day, locked in an eight-by-eight cell, with no one to talk to, no one to comfort him, no support system. It…it almost killed him.”
For a moment Jess seemed taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“He wanted to die, Jess,” Karen said quietly. “I came to visit him every month, and for the first year I was afraid every time I left that he would…do something. He lost forty pounds, and his hands shook all the time. And he always had this hopeless look in his eyes, even though he tried to act normal when I was there. But I know him too well. And he was far from normal. I worried every day.”
Jess eyed her skeptically. “He looks fine now.”
“He’s better,” Karen conceded. “But hardly fine. He believes there are unresolved issues between the two of you. And he’d like a chance to address them. That’s why he wants to see you.”
Jess couldn’t argue about the unresolved issues. Not after spending too many sleepless nights thinking about the situation. But she didn’t need to talk with Scott to deal with them. She’d work through them eventually. On her own. As she did everything these days. Her eyes grew cool and she shook her head.
“I don’t think so, Karen.”
For a moment Karen studied the woman across from her. Jess was almost like a stranger. An unhappy, unreachable stranger, whose eyes reflected disillusion and bitterness. “You’ve changed, Jess,” Karen said quietly.
“Haven’t we all.”
“Yes. And that includes Scott. I wish you’d give him a chance to prove that to you.”
Jess stood, her face impassive. “If he’s changed, I’m glad. But that doesn’t bring back Elizabeth. It doesn’t bring back the judge who was killed. All it brings back is the pain. If he really cares for me, he’ll leave me alone. I would appreciate it if you’d tell him that.”
Karen hesitated a moment, then stood and walked toward the door. She paused at the threshold to look back at the other woman, her eyes sad. “I’m sorry I bothered you, Jess. And I hope you don’t regret this decision. I have a feeling that you’re making a big mistake.”
As Karen walked away, Jess frowned and slowly closed the door. Was she making a mistake? Or was she being wise?
She didn’t have a clue.
And when her pizza arrived a few minutes later, she realized that her appetite had vanished—just like her peace of mind.
“I’m sorry, Scott,” Karen concluded with a sigh as she finished the report on her visit with Jess.
Scott tried to hide his disappointment. He’d known all along that it was foolish to hope that Karen’s visit would make a difference. And it wasn’t her fault that Jess had been unreceptive. “Don’t be. You did your best. I knew it was a long shot.”
Karen wrapped her hands around her mug and stared into the dark depths of her coffee. “Jess has changed a lot,” she said carefully.
“Yeah. I know. She’s way too thin. And too tense. And much more high-strung.”
Karen nodded. “True. But she’s different in other ways, too.”
Scott frowned. “What do you mean?”
Karen shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. Jess used to be so open and full of joy. Now it’s like she’s shut down. Like there’s no way to reach her. She has such bitterness and anger….” Karen shook her head in dismay. “Frankly, I don’t know what it will take to get through to her.”
“There has to be a way,” Scott said resolutely.
Karen looked at him steadily. “And if there isn’t?”
“I’m not willing to consider that yet.”
“You know, sometimes people are physically hurt so badly that they can’t be saved,” Karen said softly. “I think the same is true of some relationships.”
Scott rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands. After a moment he drew a long shuddering breath, and when he looked at Karen a bit of light had gone out of his eyes.
“I’m not giving up.”
“She doesn’t want to see you, Scott.”
“I respect that. But I believe that God is with me on this. Because I know, in my heart, that the marriage He blessed was meant to go on. And not just in name.”
Karen’s eyes were filled with compassion when she looked at him. “I hope you’re right, Scott. But I think it will take a miracle.”
“I survived three years of hell, Karen,” he said, his gaze locked on hers. “I believe in miracles.”
She had no rebuttal to that. “I wish I could help.”
“You can. Pray.”
“I already do. Every day.”
“Then keep it up.”
Because he knew he would need all the prayers he could get to bring about this miracle.