Jennifer's Garden (39 page)

Jennifer appreciated the caress.  It was a far cry from the touch of Jax’s hand, but it was safer, reliable.  Real.

Your fiancé is a wealthy man, in more ways than one
.

She couldn’t let the statement go.  Jax sounded so wistful, so forlorn when he said it.  Insanity, she knew.  It was nothing more than a compliment.  A nice guy saying nice things.  But still.  It felt so wishful. 
Envious
, even.

Frivolous mind-play, of course.  She doubted he’d keep in touch, let alone pine for her.  His job was complete.  He had plans for his future, plans that would take him miles from land, miles from her, eons away from possibility.

And it would keep him there.  Jackson Montgomery had no interest in a life lived with mortgages and bills, a job filled with responsibilities and obligations.  No.  His job was a means to an end.  He had a dream and he intended to follow it, wherever it may lead.  Willful, passionate, his was a spontaneous vision.

She felt the pinch. 
Now who was envious
?

Gliding her hand across the soft skin of her mother’s arm, Jennifer thought about her own future.  For her, nothing would change.  A tiny ache worked through her heart.  Other than there would be no marriage.  No wedding, no children.  Her life would remain as is.  She would do as she always did.  She would heal others the best she could.

Sam continued to rub her back, and the touch of a friend never felt better.  Well, not counting Jax.  That was better. 
That had been incredible
.

Jennifer passed the next three days, tossed about between sleep and phone calls.  Dr. Beatrice Hamilton had many friends and colleagues, all saddened to hear the news.  Sam made a continual trek between her bedside and the cafeteria, insisting she eat, despite her protest, a spatter of work calls made along the way.

But Jennifer couldn’t eat.  She could only pray, willing the end would come soon.  Slowly, she grew accustomed to the idea.  It was time.  It wasn’t right for her mother’s body to waste away in a place that meant nothing to her.  She had lived a full life and it was time to let go.

Out with the old and in with the new
.  Wasn’t that her motto?

Tracing a finger along the delicate outline of her mother’s hand, Jennifer recalled the familiar sentiment, though it didn’t seem right it should apply to a person’s life.  Used appliances, worn out clothes, maybe, but not to the most important person in her world.

“Hey.”

Startled by Sam’s soundless entry, she turned.  “What?”

“C’mon.”  She walked over and tapped her on the back.  “You’re coming with me.”

“No,” she replied without thinking.

“Yes.  You need a break and you need to eat.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, and you’re coming with me.”

“Sam...”  But when she glanced up, the feeble dissent was easily overcome.  Sam wasn’t taking no for an answer.  Gently hoisted up by the arm, she allowed Sam a victory.

“You bought too much food, Sam.”

“A meager start to replenish a certain bag of bones I know.”

“I am nowhere near a bag of bones.”  Jennifer pinched her side through the light cotton tank.  “See?  Plenty of fat to hold me through the winter.”

Showered and dressed in tank and boxers, she felt ages better, and privately thanked Sam for pushing.  Her mother wouldn’t want her to spend the rest of her life waiting for her life to end.  She had to focus on moving ahead with her own.

A concept she was still getting used to.

“Lucky for you winter is months away, or you’d freeze into a pile of icicles.  Look at you,” she stuck out her hand.  “Your legs look like toothpicks sticking out of those shorts!”  Sam turned serious.  “Which is why you’re going to put a dent in this feast.  If you won’t, be forewarned.  It won’t be pretty when I start shoveling it down your throat.”

Jennifer shook her head.  “You never were the reasonable type.”  She poked her nose over the edge of the bag and asked, “What do you have in there, anyway?”

“
Arroz con pollo, frijoles negros, plantanos maduros y tu postre favorito.  Flan
.”

Jennifer was impressed.  “Your Spanish is improving.”

“Pesky new South American paralegal at the office—an unbelievably sexy new hire while I was away in Ohio.”

She chuckled.  “That would explain it.”

Sam stopped.  “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You know for
what
—Aurelio.  Considering the circumstances, I don’t need to be reminding you of South American men.”

She waved off the mention.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Come here.”  Sam pulled Jennifer into a bear hug.

No resistance, she slid both arms around Sam’s waist, and relaxed into the embrace.  There was no changing Sam.  Men would remain first, last and everywhere in between on her list and it was okay.  But aside from facts,
truthfully
...

The mention of Aurelio hadn’t bothered her.  He felt like a distant memory—as unfair as that may be—one without the power to hurt.  Where she should feel sad, she didn’t.  She felt indifferent.  Unfortunate.

Jennifer pulled away.  “Let’s eat.”

Playing hostess in her home away from home, Sam retrieved plates from the cabinet, silverware from the drawers.  “Can I pour you a glass of wine?”

“That would be great.”

Watching as Sam poured the wine and set the table, Jennifer realized how much she needed her ready ear.  Sam would listen all night, if that’s what it took.  A gurgle of confession bubbled inside her.  And she deserved to know everything.

Strolling closer, a zing of anticipation zipped across her abdomen.  “You’ll never guess what happened between Jax and me.”  Jennifer smiled. 
The look on Sam’s face was priceless
.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“So, we’re back to square one.”

Wedged into the corner between two large cushions, legs crossed Indian-style, Jennifer allowed the Latin instrumental to caress her senses with its gentle play of guitar and soft chimes of percussion.  “How do you figure?”

“It seems to me, there is no other woman.  Jax wants you.”

“Are we engaging in wishful thinking now?”

“Not me, pumpkin pie.  I engage in nothing shy of hard-core reality, you know that.”

“Perhaps you’ve had a wee bit too much wine,” Jennifer said, her own glass near empty. 
But it was working
.  The sharp edge of her mind had dulled.  She wasn’t crying, her heart didn’t ache.  It was exactly the relief she needed.

“I can handle my liquor, thank you very much,” yet her tone implied,
perhaps someone else in the room could not
.  “This is a simple analysis of the male species, 101—a subject in which I happen to score off the charts.”  She grinned with a wink.  “And I’m telling you, the man is interested.  While there may have been someone else,” she raised a brow, “though I’m not entirely convinced there was, there is no more.  It’s like I said—“

“I know,” Jennifer cut her off.  “You read people for a living.”

She smiled.  “You’re damn right and I’m damn good at it and I’m
telling
you what I saw transpire between the two of you that day.  There was an electrically charged cord connecting you at the hip!  You guys were popping like fat on bacon, working up an appetite for some sizzling sex.”

Jennifer shook her head and sighed.  “Where do you come up with these analogies?”

Pleased with herself, she flashed a grin.  “I have an active imagination.”  Then erased it in an instant.  “But it doesn’t change the facts.”

“Highly colors them?”

“You know what your problem is?”

A soft laugh escaped as she replied, “No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“You
want
Jax.  More than you’re willing to let on, even with me, you want him.  Admit it.  Despite he represents the opposite of everything you
thought
you wanted, you want him.”

Jennifer’s eyes stilled.

Steadying her aim, Sam went straight for the heart.  “But you keep it hidden, because a relationship with him scares the hell out of you.”

Dick Tracy
.

“His bank account isn’t stocked with six figures.  Not a degree to his name, he
works
social functions—not
attends
them.  Jeans and beer over suits and champagne, he gets his hands dirty, his brow sweaty.  He’s a laborer.  A working stiff.”

Her voice wasn’t accusatory, but pointed.  And Jennifer felt the cut.

“I’ll bet part of you thinks he’s not good enough while the other knows he’s
the best damn thing that’s ever walked into your life
.”

Jennifer couldn’t utter a word in protest.

It was all true.  Except, Sam neglected to mention the qualities that made Jax so special.

The ones that lay beneath the surface
...

Her mother’s words drifted to the forefront of her mind.  Her mom knew the qualities.  Witnessed them firsthand, packaged, painted and delivered in the form of one exquisite birdhouse.

“You have me, counselor.  On all counts.”  Sudden need clawed at her.  Tears welled in her eyes.  Hook, line and sinker, she was caught.  “Now what do I do about it?”

“You go after him.”

Jennifer mildly flinched.  It sounded so forward, so Sam.

And so unlike herself.  “I will
not
chase him.  I wouldn’t intrude on his life like that.”

“
Intrude
?  Are you kidding me?”

It did sound silly, but she didn’t go
after
men.  She didn’t seek them out and hound them for a date.  Men asked her.  If Jax was truly interested, as Sam suggested, he would ask her on a date not the other way around.  Save for one small detail.

He still thinks she’s engaged to be married.

“Jen.  You have the man at your fingertips.  All you have to do is curl one hither and he will jump. 
Believe me
.  He will come running.”

Jennifer chuckled at the image, causing a tear to spill forward, hot on the flush of her cheeks.  She couldn’t imagine him jumping for any woman, let alone herself.

“It’s simple, Jen.  You open the door.  Invite him in.”

Simple.  Her pulse picked up.  Until she imagined actually doing it.

“You want me to call him?”

“No.  Absolutely
not
.”  Heaven only knows what Sam would say to the man.  She shuddered.  “I can handle this on my own, thank you.”  She glanced at Sam.  “Okay?”

“Sure.”

“
Sam
?”

“What?  I said sure, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t say yes.”

Sam shrugged.  “Same thing.”

“Not in a court of law, it’s not.  Do I need to have you swear under oath?”

“Nah.”  She waved her off and took a sip from her wine.

Jennifer kept a wary eye on her friend as she considered the situation.  She did want Jax.  She could admit that much.  And she did want to try—but how?  How did she move their relationship from professional to personal?  How did she inquire about his current state of affairs?

Could she really push herself into his life?  Going after the man was one thing, losing her dignity in the process was something else.  “Jax’s so far out of my league.  His future, his goals...  They’re completely opposite to mine.”

“They don’t have to be.  Those are details.  You work them out when the time comes.  Right now, you need to focus on coming together.  The rest will happen...
naturally
.”

A sudden sweep of nerves flew through her.  “That’s easy for you to say—you run through men like a delinquent school boy runs through spit-balls!”

“Whoa, save the personal attacks for divorce court.  I’m trying to help out over here.  Like the Calvary, you know?”  She thumped her chest.  “I’m one of the good guys, remember?”

Jennifer corked her attitude.  “I’m sorry.”  Sam wasn’t the enemy—wishful thinking was.  “But darn it, Sam, I don’t want to sit here and convince myself this is feasible when it’s not.  I’ve had my fill of heartache.  The last thing I want is to add a breakup with Jax to the mix!”

“No risk, no reward.”

“One in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

“Not good enough.”

“My mother’s gone, Sam.”  She frowned, ambivalence tearing through her.  For all intents and purposes, anyway.  “I want to grieve the loss and move on.  I need to find peace of mind, some equilibrium.  If I try for Jax and fail...”  Jennifer shook her head, ignoring the loose bangs falling across her face.  “I’ll only compound the pain.”

“It doesn’t have to fail.  You two can make a great team.”

“Like Oscar and Felix or Clyde and Costello...”