A Lover's Secret (3 page)

“Watch your language around Grandma,” Jess said.

“Oh, you and I both know she can’t hear a thing.”

They both turned toward the elderly woman, whose white hair
trembled slightly as her crochet needle bobbed through the yarn.

“It was so fun, Jess. So. Fun,” Andrew said.

“Did Monica show up?”

“Oh, God, no. At least I don’t think so. What would she have
been doing there?”

“Well, she went out with one of Kelly’s cousins last night.
Went home with him.”

“That’s sort of mysterious. He missed the boat, then. He
missed the party of the fucking century.”

“That good, huh?”

He nodded, a hearty bobbing motion, and his over-animation
provoked a sharp and unexpected feeling of irritation in her. She forced a
laugh, and then felt for another rose. A thorn pierced her skin once again.

“You know who showed up?” Andrew asked. “Jake Lassiter.”

Jess’s heart rose in her throat, and she gulped. Suddenly,
she was back in high school. In the science hallway, senior year. Just before
graduation. She and Jake Lassiter had been sitting against her locker, after
school, studying together for the AP Biology final. He had always been so soft
spoken, so hard to talk to, but when they sat together that afternoon, she
discovered a riveting, hypnotic quality she couldn’t quite define. Something
mysterious and enticing that roused a sweet warmth deep in the center of her.

When they had finished studying and he looked at her
steadily for just a moment, his whiskey brown eyes sparkled at first, and then
something in his expression changed and his gaze seared into her. Her breath
caught and she felt a sudden racing. A tingle rose up, up through her legs.

Jake had stood then, and she stood, too. His lips edged into
a half smile, and he took her by the waistband of her jeans, pulling up ever so
slightly, and then he slid against her, driving her against the lockers. His
breath whispered across her skin as his hand brushed the curve of her neck. His
gaze traveled up and over her chin and her lips to her eyes, and then he kissed
her. First, gently, then urgently, with hunger, as his tongue dipped between
the seam of her lips. When he drew away, he sucked and tugged on her lower lip,
and his sweet, warm breath lingered for just a moment.

And then it was over, as soon as it had begun. Jake had cast
his eyes downward, at the tight loops of the carpet, and so she did the same.
And then he was gone.

They had never spoken about it—she had never told a soul—and
it was never to happen again. Jess went to college, and she didn’t know what Jake
did. She probably would have talked to him, if he had called, but she wasn’t
sure what she would have said, and she wasn’t entirely sure she liked the
forceful way he had done it. She
knew she wasn’t
supposed
to like
it. There were no words. He hadn’t asked permission. He had made her feel as
though she’d been captured. Seized. But she had never forgotten it. It was the
kiss she had silently compared all others to. Not that there had been many
since.

No one had ever known much about Jake Lassiter. He was never
at the football games or the parties. He hardly said a word in class, and no
one really paid him much attention. But whenever she would think of him, even
now, something shifted in her. Something bloomed and opened.

She felt this now, but also a profound and growing sense of
aggravation. Was it the nagging feeling of what might have been? Or was it
because Jake Lassiter had been her discovery? Her quiet fantasy, all these
years. He was
hers.

“Do you remember him at all?” Andrew was saying.

“Sort of,” Jess managed to reply. “What’s he like?”

A deep groaning giggle emerged from his throat. “Crazy.”

If he said that word one more time… She got it. He had fun.
It was a good night. “So, Jake was the reason behind the craziness?”

“Let me just take a step back for you here, Jess. It was
primal crazy. Like, if that is what being single is like, every day, I never
want to be married. I’m not sure I’ve ever had so much fun.”

“Okay, Go on,” Jess said flatly, as she reached for another
stem.

“So Jake shows up, kind of out of the blue, and then we
realize he had chartered a bus. One of those luxury Greyhound numbers. Where
this thing came from, I have no idea, but we all climb in and we go up into the
mountains, and when we arrive at Pinnacle Point, there are all these guys
waiting to take us fucking paragliding.”

“Wow.”

“I know,” Andrew squeezed his eyes shut and then popped them
open. “It was the most amazing, incredible, balls-out ride of my life.”

“Wasn’t that dangerous? I mean you don’t know how to paraglide.”

“No, no. We were each riding tandem with, like, a
professional. It wasn’t scary at all, and then, as soon as we land, some guy—I
don’t even know who—he hands us a glow-in-the-dark jumpsuit and a paintball gun
and we have a paintball war through the valley. In the dark.”

“Yikes.”

Andrew laughed. “No, it was out of this world.”

“So is that how you got all beat up?”

His hand flew to the marks on his forehead. “Yeah. You’re
supposed to be pretty far away when you shoot one another, but things just got
so crazy, and we were nailing each other, point blank range. Jake got me right
in the face.”

“How charming of him.” Jess frowned. “You know, your bride
is going to kill you if those welts don’t go away before tomorrow.”

Andrew shrugged. “She
is
going to be pissed. But it
was worth it. Totally worth it.”

“I think you might have broken your nose, too.”

“Seriously? You think so?”

Jess nodded.

“Shit.” And then he shrugged. He picked up a rose and
twirled it, then laughed to himself. “Still worth it.”

“So that was it?” Jess asked.
Please let that be it.
Then she asked, “Where did you sleep?”—though, as soon as she said it, she
realized she really didn’t want to know. She peered over, then, at Grandma, who
had edged to the right side of her seat and had paused briefly from her yarn
work.

“On the forest floor. I think. I don’t know. I was kind of
out of it by then.”

“Sounds kind of scary. I mean did you have tents or sleeping
bags, or what?”

“I don’t know. I think I might have blacked out for that.
Because, you know, the booze was flowing, too.”

Jess imagined the empty bottles, the swollen smell of men
with liquor on their breath. “So how did you guys afford all that?”

“I don’t know. I think Jake paid for everything. Not that he
said so, but Stan kept telling the guys it was all taken care of.”

“Huh.” There was a pause for a moment. Another thorn stabbed
her on the fingertip and she drew her hand back. “I didn’t realize you and Jake
Lassiter had kept in touch.”

“We haven’t.”

“So how do you explain—”

“Kelly is a
huge
fan of his, of his book. So we just
dropped a wedding invite in the mail, care of his publisher, and I guess he got
it.”

“Kelly’s a fan of what book?”

“Jess, you have got to be joking with me.”

“What?”

“He wrote this book. About how to live. Where have you
been?”

“Um, I’ve been busy…living.”
You know, I’ve been busy
racking up debt I’ll never pay off, so I can be bankrupt at twenty-six. Busy,
busy.

“Well, shit, Jess. I mean everyone has his book. It’s like a
bible for our generation. Living free and having fun. He calls himself a
‘Lifestyle Artist.’ And let me tell you, he’s a Van fucking Gogh. I’m just so
damn honored he came here. I would love to call all my friends and tell them
that Jake Lassiter blew out my bachelor party. But they were all
there.
That’s what makes it so ridiculous. He’s like ape shit famous.”

Jess recoiled, just as she did as she heard about anyone
from her high school class, her college class, or even, lately, her generation,
who had made good. Unlike her.

“And the man is nuts,” Andrew went on. “I think if I had all
that money and a life that cool I would be a little bit careful… you know, live
as long as humanly possible. But it’s almost like he has a death wish. He kept
giving the bus driver shots of Hot Damn.”

“Hot what?”

“Hot Damn. You know, like, Cinnamon Schnapps? And then when
the bus driver started weaving and swerving, Jake just pushed him off his seat
and started to drive the bus himself. Once, he nearly tipped us into the Colorado
River. We asked him where he learned to drive a bus and he just laughed, sort
of maniacally, and he said, ‘I didn’t.’”

So Jake had nearly killed her brother and all her brother’s
friends a few days before his wedding, and he had royally messed up Andrew’s
face, which was bound to be a problem with his fiancée, but, to Andrew, he was
the ultimate champion.

One other thing was certain: He had changed. Her Jake
Lassiter. Her quiet, introverted, fantasy man with the satiny kiss. He had
changed.

Jess’s hands began to shake then, and she wasn’t sure why.

“Want to give me a hand with these centerpieces?” she asked,
not bothering to soothe the edge from her voice. “They are ripping my hands to
shreds, and they’re for
your
wedding.”

Andrew picked up a rose, twirled it once, and set it back
down again. “I don’t know if you get it, Jess. You didn’t see him in
People
magazine,
I guess. Or on
60 Minutes
? He lives with this super hot
girl. I mean supermodel hot. Smokin’ hot. They have a place in Malibu. All
windows. By the ocean. He drives a frickin’ Ferrari.”

An image of Jake’s girlfriend popped into her mind, though
she had only Andrew’s description to base it on. Long, sculpted legs. A
fluttering, windswept mane of honey blonde. Eyes, brilliant blue, flickering
with lust. Jess’s precise opposite in every way. Hell, she was probably a
doctor, too.

“Let me guess.” Jess sneered. “His Ferrari is candy apple
red.”

“I think it is, in fact.”

“Does he have a helicopter, too?”

Andrew studied her. “I don’t know.”

“He just… he sounds like a cliché is all.”

“Yeah, he’s a cliché. A cliché of cool.” Andrew leaned back
in his chair and folded his arms, resting his head back. “He’s my hero. I can’t
believe you know nothing about him.”

“No, Andrew. I don’t read
People
magazine. I’ve been
in…school.”

“I get it, Jess. We all get it. You haven’t had time for
anything fun.” His tone took on a sing-songy quality and Jess’s skin prickled.
So now he was going to mock her.

“Ironically, you need his book more than anyone I know.”
Andrew snorted. “Probably more than anyone in the
whole entire world.”

Jess’s heart pounded. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than
to slam down her shears, to break the roses from their stems. To scream, to
push her smug brother right out of his chair.

Where was this rage coming from? She didn’t know, but she
did know she wanted to spit in Andrew’s face.

“You know what?” Andrew continued, oblivious. “I’ll grab the
book for you. I think I loaned my copy out, but I know Kelly has a copy at her
house.”

Jess’s voice was shaky and tight. “I don’t need to read his
stupid book.”

“Kelly loves him so much. Her copy is probably all marked up
and highlighted. Hopefully you’ll still be able to read the words underneath
all her scribbles and notes.”

“I don’t need to read his stupid book.” Jess’s breath was
coming fast now.

“On second thought, I am going to call up Jake right now and
ask him to hand-deliver a copy. I bet he would even autograph it for you.”

When Andrew pulled his phone from his pocket, Jess’s arm
shot out, snatching at the phone, and knocking it from his hands.“You’ll do no
such thing.” Heat ripped through her.

“Geez, woman. What just crawled up your butt?” Andrew
retrieved his phone and pawed at the screen to view his contacts.

“Just…don’t call him. I don’t want his stupid book.”

“Okay, whatever. I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, stop it.”

“Alright. Jesus. I just thought, you know, since he asked
about you last night. Twice…”

Jess

Something had come over her. Something dark. She had to
leave. She slammed the storm door behind her. It slapped against the frame and
the rattle reverberated as she stood on the other side, trembling. She had to
get a hold of herself. Why this sudden wrath? Was she having a nervous
breakdown?

Even when she realized that she would be a medical school
dropout, even when she fully understood that she had screwed up her own life in
an irreconcilable way, she hadn’t felt rage. Disappointment, numbness, deep, deep
regret. But not rage. And why at her brother? Why over a light-hearted
conversation about his bachelor party?

She began to walk, then. One foot in front of the other. One
step at a time, pacing her breathing with her steps. Inhale, two, three; exhale,
two, three. And that is how she arrived there, by the river, without entirely
meaning to. It had been her favorite place to go, to think, back in high
school. The path was dirt and it meandered along the water’s edge, bumping over
stones and sawed off tree trunks. Their swollen roots bulged and swelled from
the soil, resembling the veins on Grandma’s hands. Exposed vessels of
vulnerability, spinning on a fragile planet.

This is how she felt. A brittle shell, shucked from the
world. For the past couple of years, she had found it increasingly difficult to
enjoy anything, and, now, impossible. Her brother irritated her. Her sister
irritated her. Jess tripped over a stump in the path. Hell, even nature
irritated her.

More than that. It haunted her. Every moment of free time.
If she wasn’t such a baby, such a coward, she would be graduating in a month.
She would be ready to start the career she had always dreamed of. She would be
fulfilling her lifetime sense of purpose, which had been overriding and all-encompassing,
all the way until Year Two. That’s when the darkness had begun to descend.
That’s when the fear set in—the fear that perhaps this wasn’t the right path
for her after all.

But then many people told her they’d felt this way, too, at
this stage in the game. They all told her to keep hanging on until Year Four.
That’s when it gets better, they had said. They told her to choose a new
specialty. To choose new rotations until she found one that fit. So she had.
Child Psych, Adolescent Psych, Pathology, Oncology, Emergency Medicine. Each
day, she took in information and spit it back. Then one day, the exhaustion was
absolute. She found that she couldn’t go in any longer. She couldn’t bear it.
The whoosh of the hospital doors. The sterile scent in the air. The patients
with their needy, pleading eyes. The knowledge that she couldn’t make a
mistake. Not ever. Not here.

When she didn’t show up for her rotation that next day, the
school had sent a therapist to her home. Apparently, this was a common enough
occurrence that there was a protocol to follow. And so a petite woman with a tight
and tiny mouth and a laminated name badge stood in front of her and told her
that she needed to move on, that medical students experience these kinds of emotions
all the time, that there were people and resources that could help her, but,
the woman had said, the stupidest, most foolish thing she could possibly do
would be to simply leave, because that would close all of the doors behind her.
“That would,” she had said, “create a situation in which you would never find
employment allowing for loan repayment.” And then her voice had taken on a
soaring, practiced tone as she asserted, “Now is your chance to show the world,
and yourself, what you are made of.”

And so Jess had shown them. She boarded the next bus for
home. Then she sat in her old basement bedroom, numb, for three straight days
before borrowing Grandma’s Oldsmobile and driving back to get her things. Now
here she was. Unable to enjoy a walk by the river, a rollicking tale of an old
classmate, the preparations for her twin brother’s wedding. And so she sat on a
smooth, round rock, and she stared at the earth beneath her feet.

***

She didn’t know how long she had been gone, but when she
returned to the house, all forty-eight bowls were tied with ribbons and filled
with floating red blooms. The bowls covered the kitchen table, the dining room
table, and the coffee table. Amid them, Grandma lay still in her recliner, her
head tipped back, snoring softly. The skin on her hands were marred with tiny
lashes.

Shame surged through Jess and heat rose to her face. Grandma
had felt impelled to finish the centerpieces in her absence. She swallowed hard
and decided to let her rest. She tiptoed to the basement, and, there, on her
pillow, was a book. His book.

Had Jake Lassiter been here? Jess sniffed the air, without
meaning to. She remembered, then, his scent. The scent of that day. Of him, of his
kiss. It was sharp, almost peppery. But the basement smelled only of dampness.
Of long-forgotten cats and the dank sweetness of lilies, kept past their prime.

Jake’s face flashed through her mind. The way it looked just
before he’d kissed her. His wanton walnut-colored eyes. His chiseled nose of
infallible perfection. Those marble cheekbones.

And now he was writing bestsellers and chartering buses and
flinging long-lost friends off mountainsides—when he wasn’t wriggling atop
supermodels in Malibu.

Who could have guessed? Jess stared at the book. It was clearly
a new copy. She looked around and wondered again: Had Jake Lassiter been in her
bedroom?

And what difference did it make? She lifted the book from
her pillow and weighed it in her hands. The cover was simple enough.
Live
Every Day of Your Life.
This was the title? Not super imaginative, but, she
supposed it was good advice, if completely obvious.

Beneath the title was an overexposed image of a hammock,
strung up on two palm trees, and nestled deep inside, a dark haired man. Was
this supposed to be him? Was that what he looked like now?

The book made a popping noise as she opened it, releasing
the scent of paper, of newness. She turned one page, and then another.

Her throat throttled and her heart pounded. She could feel
it in her temples.

On page one:

“I race Formula One cars in Italy.

“I paraglide from peaks in France and Switzerland.

“I dine with ultra-beautiful women on both coasts of the
nation, in each hemisphere of the world.

“I know the secrets of living fast and free.

“I live this way, and so can you. “

Ick. Ick. Beyond ick. It was absurd and arrogant. What was
he? A champion of irresponsibility? A captain of non-industry?

She shuddered. Fast and free? No reason to read the rest of
that
.
She slapped the book shut. Then, quickly, she flipped open the back cover. Just
to see. Just to get a glimpse. Yes. There it was. There
he
was. Staring
back at her from a photograph, three inches square. She lifted the book close
to her face. She had forgotten the tiny chip on his front tooth. Those eyes,
like liquid. That’s what he had made her feel like that day. Liquid.

There was a bang on the final basement step and then a rush
of damp air on her face. Suddenly, Monica was standing over her, over her bed,
her black shiny hair dangling so Jess could see just the ends of her ringlet
curls.

“What do you have there, Jess?”

Instinctively, Jess shoved the book under her pillow, and
Monica pounced on her, giggling. “What are you hiding?”

Monica grabbed for her hand under the pillow, and Jess had
to fight a sudden urge to bite her shoulder.

Monica laughed. “Did I catch Miss Priss with porn or
something?” She finally grabbed the book and pulled hard, sliding it out of
Jess’s fingers.

“Oh,” Monica said, raising up and looking at it. “It’s just
that book.” She put it down beside her and splayed out next to Jess on the bed,
as though the effort to wrestle her sister had exhausted her.

Jess was silent. She slung her arm over her face.

“So what’s the big deal, Jess? Why are you hiding it?”

Jess didn’t answer, and after a moment, Monica sighed.
“Isn’t Jake Lassiter
so
fine?” she asked.

Jess sat then and turned toward the wall. Monica had never
given him a second glance in high school.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if he would come back here someday?”
Monica continued. “What I wouldn’t do to him. And for him. And across him. And
down him.”

“He’s coming to the wedding.” Jess said, then. She found
herself wanting to shock her sister, suddenly. Wanting to let Monica know that
she didn’t always know everything about everyone.

“Ha.”

“No, really. Didn’t Andrew tell you? Jake was here last
night for the bachelor party.”

“No shit?”

“So he said.”

“Well….” Monica snorted. “Oh. I see…. So you’re doing your
homework. You actually think you’d have a chance with this guy.”  

“No.”

“Well, don’t get your hopes up, darlin’. He’s taken. Did you
read the article in
People
? That chick he lives with is so beautiful.”

Jess exhaled. “That’s exactly what Andrew said.”

“Is Jake bringing her along, do you think? To the wedding?”

“No idea. It doesn’t sound like he brought her last night.”

“So he really was at Andrew’s party?”

Jess nodded. “I guess so. I heard it was really something. I
guess that guy you were with last night missed out.” She knew it was a cruel
thing to say, but she couldn’t help herself. Monica could bring out the worst
in her, like no one else.

Monica thought for a moment and then shook her head. “Nah.
He didn’t miss out on nothin’. Sometimes, Jess, a little good loving is worth
everything. Everything.”

When Jess didn’t reply, she went on. “So why are you reading
his book in the semi-dark, like it’s something dirty, instead of getting ready
for the rehearsal dinner?”

The rehearsal dinner! She had nearly forgotten. Jess snapped
to her feet.

Monica laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell everyone why you’re
delayed. That I found you just hanging out on your bed. Getting dirty with
Jake’s little book.”

Monica stood, still laughing. She adjusted her bra straps so
they just showed at the edges of her boat neck blouse. Then she was gone.

For the first time, Jess wondered what she might wear that
evening, and she wondered what the chances were that Jake would be there.

***

The minister’s words droned on and on, and her dress was so
tight. Why had Kelly chosen such snug little leave-nothing-to-the-imagination
bridesmaid dresses? She felt like a Munchkin or an Oompa-Loompa standing up
there, even in her teetering heels, next to the bride’s statuesque sisters.
Jess clutched her bouquet of peonies and bent her knees. She scanned the crowd
once again.

“So where is he?” Monica whispered, next to her. “Where is
Jake?”

Jess shrugged imperceptibly and scanned the crowd again.
Andrew would be disappointed. Jake hadn’t made it to the rehearsal dinner, and
he hadn’t made it to the ceremony.

Finally, a kiss, a cheer, and the bride and groom were
walking back down the aisle. When would this event end? When could she take off
these heels? Jess had hardly slept the night before. She had even considered
faking a mysterious illness, so she didn’t have to appear in the wedding and
watch Monica and the rest of the women in town throw themselves at him. But
Jake hadn’t even shown up. Apparently, Jake Lassiter was only in it for the
parties. That’s what life was all about, after all.
Fast and free.

Jess swallowed, pulled her shoulders back and painted on a
grin for the receiving line. Then she took a post by the gifts, ensuring that
no one had any questions or needed her help in any way. She tried to look
official and relaxed, like a wedding coordinator. Events like these were always
easier for her if she immersed herself in a task. She had just finished
arranging the gifts into picturesque stacks and was straightening bows and
envelopes when,
pop!
, something small and red smacked her straight on
the nose.

A ripple of laughter.
What the hell?
She looked up
briefly, her eyes narrow, and resumed her gift-aligning. Then another smack of
something. This time on her cheek. More laughter.

Someone was chucking tiny fruits at her face. Cherry
tomatoes.
Seriously?

And then she saw Jake’s face. Directly in front of her and just
as she remembered it. High cheekbones. That perfect classic nose. Silky dark
hair. Arresting, bronze-colored eyes. His gaze locked on hers, and he gave her
a quick wink.

A rush of noise forced the realization that the entire front
half of the reception hall was awaiting her reaction.

Jess’s nostrils flared and she raised her chin. She found
herself suddenly bewildered, with no thought as to an appropriate response.
What was wrong with her? She wanted to cry, to sink down, there on the floor,
to put her hands to her face and bawl.

She felt her face redden and she turned and pushed her way
out to the hallway.

“She was supposed to laugh,” she heard Jake say to the
crowd. Another chorus of laughter. Then the soft, rapid click of his shoes on
the tile behind her.

“Here we are, Jess,” Jake called after her. “In the hallway.
Again.”

He really was quite stupid, wasn’t he? Yes, they were in
the hallway.
Jess kept walking, moving faster now.

“That was another joke. You were supposed to laugh.”

What joke?
His words, from his book, came rushing
back to her.
I dine with ultra-beautiful women on both coasts of the nation,
in each hemisphere of the world…
Ick. She shuddered and kept walking.

“Hey, Jess, stop.”

She turned. Her heart was racing. “
You
stop. Stop
throwing stuff at my face.”