A Lover's Secret (17 page)

In
House Beautiful
, there was a spread of Jake’s home
in Malibu. Vintage appliances. Walls of glass with gauzy curtains. Marble
everywhere. Cascading pools overlooking the beach. She gulped. This would be
her life. In two days. Why was she working so hard to prove that there was
something wrong?

“You know, Monica, I think maybe it’s time I just trust him.
He’ll tell me when he needs to tell me. I’ll just give him the benefit of the
doubt.”

“You’re prolonging the heartbreak, you know. Sooner or
later, Jess, it’s going to happen.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s always saying that a little good
loving is worth everything?”

“Well, sure, but this could be big. Bigger than you. What if
he’s a mobster or something? Or a killer. You could be in real danger here. I’m
just looking out for you, you know.”

“There isn’t anything seedy or suspicious in any of these
articles.”

“I don’t think mobsters put out ads announcing their
seediness. I don’t think they label themselves. One thing is for sure, though,
Jess, he’s a bad boy. He uses girls. That’s what bad boys do. It’s what makes
them bad.”

“What gives you the idea that he’s a bad boy?”

“You mean besides the dozens of photos of him with different
drop-dead gorgeous starlets?” Monica laughed. “Clue number one: You know he has
a secret and that he needed to get rid of you for a couple of days to keep that
secret. Clue number two: You’re here and he’s there.”

Jess pushed at the rock in her pocket until it dug into her
skin.

Monica continued, her voice hushed. “What we know is that
Jake Lassiter has a secret so big it could ruin you, and we know he is
unwilling to tell you what it is. I mean, use your head.” She met Jess’s eyes.
“You know, I would have thought you were too smart to get mixed up in anything
like this, but I guess you’re not any better than the rest of us.” Her lips
pushed into a pout. “We’re all just slaves. Slaves to lust.”

The phrase made Jess imagine herself handcuffed, shackled.
“I think that might be overstating it,” Jess said, laughing nervously.

“You do, huh?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay, how many times have you thought about him since the
last time you made love? How many times have you fantasized about having him
again?”

Jess looked down, her face flushed.

“Yeah” Monica said, “That’s what I thought.”

***

Jake

Where was he?

Where was Jess?

Jake patted at the side of the bed. Only cold. And tubes.
Lights glowed through his closed eyelids. Had he sent Jess home? Yes, he
remembered now, and it made sense. At least Jess wouldn’t see him like this.
But for a split second, he wished she were here. That
someone
was here,
besides… her.

Miranda’s hands were soft and smooth as she repositioned
Jake’s arms flat on the sheets. He blinked his eyes open, and her face blocked
the overhead light for a moment. Her smile was kind and her voice was soft.
“Hey, sleepyhead. I can’t believe we wrangled you in here finally.”

Jake grunted, and she continued. “It really is nice to see
you again. From what I’ve seen so far, it’s high time you returned.”

“Is it bad?”

“Well, we were hoping for better, but it’s too soon to
tell.”

Jake squeezed his eyes shut.

Miranda continued with her soft, hypnotic voice, like waves
flowing through the room. “Elizabeth says you’re in love.”

His eyes fluttered open, and Miranda peered at him, a look
of condolence. “You can bring her here, you know. She could sleep right here. I
could pull in a cot. Would you like me to call and explain things to her?”

He laughed—a sardonic, bitter laugh. “What would you explain
to her exactly?”

“Where we are with everything now. What to expect…for the
future.”

Jake’s face reddened. How he wanted to rip the electrodes
from his arms and his legs. The IV from his arm. How he wanted to run straight
out of there.

“I know that you are feeling anger. That is perfectly
natural.” The softer Miranda’s tone, the more Jake wanted to scream at her. A
monitor began to chirp and then to buzz. “But you aren’t doing yourself any
favors here, Jake, and this is all for your benefit. You understand that, don’t
you?”

Jake closed his eyes once more, and Miranda continued. “The
medication does seem to be working, at least in stopping the progression of the
deterioration, but I know, at the level at which we have been administering it
the past few weeks, the side effects have been severe.”

“I’ve lost strength.” Jake’s words slid out, unintended.
“Even at a time when I needed it. All of it. It was just gone.”

“It will be better once you rest.”

“No it won’t. You said the damage was irreversible.”

“Yes. So I don’t suggest you go taking any more trips just
now. You did yourself a disservice, Jake. A huge disservice by leaving, and it
just might cost you.” Jake’s hands clenched into fists, and Miranda backed
toward the door. “Would you like me to call Elizabeth in for you?”

He shook his head. His eyes grew tight with pent-up tears.

“Would you like me to call…” Miranda glanced at her
clipboard. “Jessica?”

Every muscle in his body tensed. “Under no circumstances are
you to call Jess. She is
never
to know what goes on in here.”

“I don’t see how you can keep this from her, Jake.
Realistically speaking. You do know your prognosis, do you not?”

He did. He knew. “Just, don’t call Jess.”

Jess

It was morning and everyone was awake upstairs. Jess could
hear their heavy footsteps on the floor above. Her mother’s clicking heels. Her
father’s loafers. The drag of a chair. The smell of eggs with Velveeta cheese.
Even Monica’s voice, shouting pleasantries toward Grandma. She should get up.
But her parents would be gone soon. They never stayed past nine, and there was
so much she could avoid by simply staying in bed a little longer.

She imagined what would happen if she walked upstairs just
then. Mom wouldn’t say much of anything at first, and Dad would say, “Well, so
nice of you to grace us with your presence.” Surely Grandma or Monica would
have told them that she planned to move in, unwed, with Jake. In that case, Dad
would pretend there had been some mistake, saying something like “Gram said you
were moving in with a man, but I know you’d never do that without a ring on
your finger.” And then one of them would bring up how long, in days, she still
had to change her mind about medical school before her leave of absence ended,
and then Mom would start in on the laundry list of things she had to give up in
order to advance her own career and how some things are just more important
than simply how Jess
felt at the moment
and what Jess might
think
she
wanted
at the moment. And how the decisions she made now would set the
trajectory for her entire life.

She had heard all of their speeches and lectures, and she
had no interest in hearing them today. Footsteps clopped over to the top of the
basement stairs, then heavy footfalls down, down. Jess fluttered her eyes
closed and made sure to maintain deep and even breaths. She knew it was her
father, standing over her. He sniffed. He coughed. He banged his knee into
something. All the while, she kept her eyes closed, her breathing even, her
face calm. After a time, he climbed back up the stairs and he made his way to
the front door, and her mother’s voice called out, shrill and disappointed,
“Well, she can’t just treat the place like a hotel. What on earth do you think
has gotten into her?”

This could be her last morning in this bed—if Jake called
today. And he would. He would tell her when to come. When to board the plane
and fly to Los Angeles. She was ready. Her bag was packed. Today he would call.

She stayed like this, motionless, eyes closed, willing her
phone to ring. And then someone was bouncing on her bed.

“Good morning, faker.” Monica said, as Jess’s eyes blinked
open. “It’s time to rise and shine, my friend.”

“What for?”

“Because I have a plan for us. Unless you’re off to
Wonderland already today.”

Jess didn’t respond.

 “Has he called you yet?” Monica demanded.

“No, but he will today.”

“Jess—” Monica’s tone reeked of pity.

“Just… what? What do you want, Monica?”

“Well, I want to have a sister day. An all-out girls’ day. I
have it all planned out, so you can’t say no. Besides, I know you don’t have
anything better to do. We’ll shop this morning. Then we’ll get the works at
Vivian’s salon. You remember Vivian?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, great. Then we’ll have a really special dinner.
There’s a French restaurant that opened recently on the boulevard, right next
to Viv’s place.”

Jess pressed her eyes shut.

“I’ve got it all planned out. We have appointments: massage,
highlight, hair, tanning, the works. So,” she leaned in close to Jess’s ear and
then shouted, “Get up!”

“Oh,” Jess groaned. “That’s sweet, Monica. But I’m
exhausted.” She thought of Jake. Was he still sleeping, wherever he was? She
imagined his face, the way his eyes sunk into her as they were making love. His
thick, muscled shoulders. He was so perfect, so gorgeous. And he was hers. She
moaned a little. He would call today.

Monica’s brows pulled in. “Sorry, but I’m not taking no for
an answer, Jess. It’s going to be my treat. The whole shebang.” Monica stuck
out her bottom lip. “These days, I never know when you might up and do
something crazy. When I might lose you… to wonderland.” Her laugh was brash,
and she pulled at Jess’s arm.

When would he call? She couldn’t spend too many more days in
this house. But maybe this was what needed to happen. A final day with Monica.
A proper goodbye to her grandmother and her mother and father, and then that
would be it.

And so Jess dressed in the gauzy sundress with the silvery
strappy sandals that Jake had bought her, and, just before they left the house,
she checked in on Grandma.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Jess asked, standing
above the recliner.

“Well, I’m feeling great today, Jessica. Thanks for asking.
Now, don’t worry about me, dear. Don’t worry about me at all.” Her tone was
uncharacteristically bright, almost giddy, and she could have sworn that Monica
gave her a wink before they headed out.

That was peculiar. Was it the new medication? The St. John’s
Wort? In any case, Grandma was feeling well, at least for today, and this made
Jess’s face shine as they left the house and drove, first, to a boutique in the
garment district where Monica bought Jess a too-tight crimson dress, which she
insisted she wear out of the store, even though it was only eleven in the morning.
Then they stopped for a quick coffee and a croissant at a bakery downtown.

“So, has he called you yet?”

Jess wished she could lie. “He will.”

“I wonder what he’s doing right now.”

Jess shrugged.

“I wonder what he’s doing that’s so…secret. Tying up
gangsters?”

“If you want to continue on with this day, Monica, you are
going to need to stop.”

Monica showed her palms. “Understood, okay.” But as they
were leaving, she said, “I know the perfect distraction for a woman whose heart
is breaking. Just wait until you see Viv’s salon. It’s more of a day spa,
really. She remodeled the whole thing herself. It’s really something.”

And it was really something. Cut crystal chandeliers. The
scent of bergamot and lavender. Soft classical music. Jess and Monica sat side
by side for hours as their bodies were plucked, waxed, polished, and massaged.
Then it was on to haircuts and blowouts and makeup artistry. By the time she
left, Jess thought, she looked like herself only airbrushed, and she gave a
self-satisfied nod at her reflection as she said, with sincerity, “This day has
been a true treat, Monica. Thank you.”

Monica plucked a rose from the arrangement at the front
desk. She fit it snugly behind Jess’s ear and arranged her hair around it. Then
she waved her hand out the plate glass front window, toward the bistro next
door. “Go get us a table for dinner, would you? Right over there. I’ll meet you
in, like, a minute. I just need to settle up with Viv.”

“Oh, are you sure? I can wait with you.”

“No, no, that would be tacky. I would hate for you to see
the grand total for this day of pampering. Now, go!” And she pushed Jess out
the door.

It had gotten dark. Goodness, how long had they been in
there? And still Jake hadn’t called. Jess’s stomach clenched, and she had a
bitter taste in her mouth. She pulled open the heavy door to the bistro and was
met by the wafting scent of freshly roasted garlic, the sound of live jazz. The
last thing she wanted was a lavish dinner, where she would have to continue
sucking in her stomach so this stupid dress wouldn’t rip at the seams. But at
least it would distract her. It would make it so she wasn’t pathetically
staring at her phone all evening.

Her phone! She had left it, again. It must be still at the
salon. She had been checking it, as surreptitiously as she could, all day. At
least every ten minutes.

Jess made her way back toward the front door, glaring out
the window of the restaurant, which peeked into the salon next door. Monica was
holding her phone and shaking it, looking at the display and making a sad face.
Mocking her. Of course. Her fists clenched. Then there came a tap, light on the
shoulder. She spun around and was met with the face of a young man, about her
age, short in stature, with a well-trimmed red beard, tortoise shell glasses,
and an earnest expression. “Jess?” His voice was low and kind.

Who was he? Did she know him? She searched her memory. High
school? She didn’t think so.

“Yes? I’m Jess.”

“Forgive me,” he said, “I know you by the rose. Your
grandmother said you’d be wearing a red rose in your hair.”

“Pardon me?”

“You
are
Jessica Madigan, correct?”

“I am. I’m sorry. I’m a little confused. You are—?”

“Evan. Evan Everhart.”

Evan, Evan. Who was Evan Everhart? “Oh!” Jess tipped her
head back. “You’re my grandmother’s doctor.”

His face flushed. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

Jess’s eyes flitted to the window. Monica’s face was nearly
pressed against the glass next door. When she caught Jess’s eyes, she threw her
head back in laughter.

 “She did not, Evan. I’m so sorry. I think I’ve been
tricked.”

“It appears we both have. I was under the impression that
your grandmother had notified you of our date.”

Jess tried to laugh. “I’m sorry. My grandmother is… rather
eager.”

Evan’s lips pressed tight. “I was actually under the
impression that you were the instigator.” He swept his eyes toward her. “But
since that’s obviously not the case, don’t worry.” He winked. “You’re off the
hook.”

His index finger glided up and pushed at the center of his
glasses and she saw that his hands were trembling. “But your grandmother does
speak the truth,” he said. “You
are
stunning.” His voice shook a little.
He was so meek and adorable and unsure. So unlike Jake, who still hadn’t
called. Jess felt suddenly taller, statuesque and beautiful.

Her stomach growled. Judging from the expectant look on
Monica’s face, she no doubt expected her to be terrified. Maybe even to run out
of there. And maybe that’s what Old Jess would have done. Virgin Jess.
Scared-of-everything Jess. She pulled her shoulders back.

“If it’s all the same to you,” Jess said, “I’d love to have
dinner with you.” Certainly, it was better than having dinner with Monica,
though she sure wished she had her phone. She looked back to the salon, now,
but the lights were out. Monica had gone. She turned back to Evan. “But I do
feel the need for a disclosure here.”

“Okay.” He drew out each syllable, sounding unsure.

“I am in a relationship at the moment.” Was that even true?
She swallowed hard, and she saw his Adam’s apple rise and fall, as well. “So
this can’t really be a date as much as my grandmother wants it to be.”

He smiled broadly at her, then. “Well, since we’re both
here, and since we have a reservation, I think it would be a shame to miss out
on what might be a wonderful dinner. Also,” his voice dropped, “Your
grandmother tells me you’re in the last stages of schooling, and that maybe you
hit a snag, so we could talk about that. If you want.”

And so Jess allowed Evan to steer her to their table, his
hand grazing the small of her back.

Once they’d ordered, Evan cleared his throat. “So. What do
you think is stopping you from finishing school?”

“Everything.”

“Oh, well, if that’s all.” He laughed.

“No, truthfully. Everything. There’s only one thing that
makes me feel like I should continue on.”

“And that is?”

“All the damn money I’ve borrowed to get this far.”

He laughed from somewhere way down deep. “Amen. They do get
you. I’ve been out of residency now for two and a half years, and I’ve just now
made a dent in it all. Even though I make great money.” He took a sip of his
wine. “In case you weren’t thinking that I would make a fantastic catch.” He
snorted a little when he laughed and she wondered what his beard would feel
like against her skin. What it would feel like if he were to kiss her.

Jess steered the conversation back to business. “For a
while, I thought the loans would be insurmountable, but I think I may have
actually found a way.”

He leaned back in his chair. “If you find that this is true,
please, please tell me. Help a guy out.”

Somehow, she didn’t think he would qualify. He wasn’t Jake’s
type, and as she thought of this, her stomach twisted. There was a word for
women who did what she had done for money. Then she laughed to herself. Jake
hadn’t actually paid her a dime. She’d called her bank in the salon bathroom
earlier in the day, and her account was as empty as ever.

“Well, if you ever do find a way to get out from under the
debt, you have lots of options. About halfway through my second year, I
considered bagging it all and getting a master’s in Clinical Psych instead.”

“Interesting. You know, I’ve considered that same thing,”
Jess said, nodding. “So, if you lean toward Psych, how did you end up in
Emergency Medicine?

“I love the pace, and I love how it allows me to help people
when they are in their most desperate moments. I’m good at staying calm and at
helping my patients stay calm.” He shrugged. “Most days, I love it. Some days,
I don’t. But I guess sometimes in life you have to just choose a path and hold
it.”

“You sound like my father.”

“It’s true, though.” His lips went flat, as though he were
considering saying something else. Then he spoke quickly. “There is one thing I
find as a doctor, which might be worth sharing… But do forgive me. My father is
a minister, so this might come off as overly sentimental or, well, even as
sacrilege, but it’s what got me through my last year of school. And my
residency, as well.” His voice grew very quiet, and Jess had to lean in to
hear. “I have always had this sense that, when we come to one another, in love and
in healing, that we are being the body and the hands of God. I’ve always had
this sense that God comes to us through one another, and practicing medicine
gives me a way to truly serve and minister to people of the world who are
hurting and who need help. When I think about it in those terms, I can’t think
of a better profession…at the end of the day.”