Softly and Tenderly (6 page)

“Very. Got to open up here, get things going, then head down to the Blue Two when Lillabeth comes in.” Jade stuck her head out the door. “Mama, did I bring in my backpack?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“It’s over there, Jade.” June pointed across the room to the filing cabinet.

“Ah!” Jade snatched up the bag. “I’m losing my brain here.”

June’s gaze fell on Jade’s organization system—green and pink sticky notes plastered to the top of her desk. In recent months, she’d expanded to using the wall.

After digging in the backpack, Jade pulled out a binder and sat, flipping through the pages. With an exhale, she looked up at June.

“How are you?”

“I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Jade scanned her sticky notes. “What kind of plan?” She ripped up a line of green notes muttering, “Done. Done. Done.”

“Maybe I should just go. Obviously you’re busy.” But she didn’t move.

“June, okay, now . . .” Jade tossed the ripped-up sticky notes in the trash basket. “I’m all yours. What’s your plan?”

June twisted the straps of her Birkin bag. “I want to move into the loft.” She pointed over her head.

“That’s your plan? Moving into the Blue Umbrella’s loft? June, why don’t you just confront him? Are you going to let him get away with this?” Jade dropped down to her chair with a thump.

“I’ll pay a fair rent, Jade.”

Jade slapped her hands against her thighs. “The Orchid House is six thousand square feet. Can’t you find a place to hide from him there? The pool house is twice as big as the loft and twice as nice.”

“The pool house is torn up for a remodel. Besides, I cannot stay in that house.” June held Jade’s gaze. “Can you blame me?”

“Not really.”

“Did you tell Max?”

“You asked me not to, but it was hard. Max and I promised not to keep secrets from each other once we got married.”

“But this is about Reb and me. It’s not like you’re keeping a personal secret from him.”

“What do you think he’ll say when he finds out I knew?”

“What makes you think he’s ever going to find out?”

“June.” Jade gestured toward the ceiling, the glint in her eye challenging. “You just asked to move into the loft.”

Right
. “I’ll tell him I needed some space. He’s aware Reb and I don’t have a perfect marriage.” June’s morning coffee burned in her stomach. “I’ve never lived on my own. I went from my father’s house to a college dorm to marriage. Maybe now it’s time.”

“You raised a clever, intelligent son, June. He’s never going to accept you living in the loft as ‘needing space.’”

“Then I don’t care. Let him find out; let his dad tell him.” She gathered herself and stood. “I’d like to move in today if I could. Hire some men to bring some furniture from the Orchid House.”

“June, are you sure?”

“If I don’t do this, I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life.”

Jade regarded her for a moment, as if she didn’t buy June’s forceful sentiment, but then she opened her middle desk drawer. “Here’s a key to the back door. It opens the loft too.”

“Thank you.” June clung to the key. “I’ll pay a thousand a month.”

“A thousand? June, no, that’s too much. Just pay the utilities.” Jade jotted a set of numbers on a pink sticky note. “Here’s the security code. Punch it in and hit Okay twice to confirm. Simple.”

“I’ll pay a thousand a month. If I don’t, it’s not worth it to me. And I need it to be worth it.”

“Isn’t it Reb’s money, June?”

“Who do you think keeps Rebel and Benson Law in proper society? Who plans the parties, sends the gifts, charms the clients and colleagues?” She paused in the doorway, gazing at the key in her hand. “The money is just as much mine as his, and each month when I write you a check, I’ll remind myself exactly how much every dime, every dollar, has cost me.”

Standing at the kitchen sink, Jade washed up dinner dishes. For Mama, crackers and broth. For Jade and Max, leftovers. Meatloaf, green beans, and corn with a wilting salad. Being raised by her granny, a woman who grew up in the Depression, Jade learned to never waste food. Even limp lettuce.

Mama had thrown up at the shop today for no reason, so Jade had to cut short her work at the Blue Two and hand control over to Emma. If the shop stood in the morning, Jade would consider it a huge victory.

Once the shop was squared away, she’d hire a new manager. But for the moment, the Blue Two had her undivided attention.

Beyond the window, a purple wash tinted the fading March day. Jade turned the window’s handle and shoved open the pane. A cold, moist breeze rushed inside, scented with the aroma of charcoal.

Jade breathed in, eyes closed. Such a glorious fragrance.

“Makes me think of home, the old farm.” At the sound of her mother’s voice, Jade swerved around. Mama shuffled into the kitchen, holding on to the wall and counter. “Tents pitched all over the yard, everyone sitting around a bonfire until late in the night, showering with a hose behind the barn.”

“You’re feeling better?”

“The broth and crackers hit the spot.” Mama opened the cupboard for a cup. “Thought I’d get my legs moving and come down for my ginger tea.”

Jade picked up the kettle to fill it. “It was just a bunch of naked, high hippies.”

“Naked? Jade, no one was naked.” Mama sighed. “Well, mostly no one.”

“Daddy exploded when I caught Eclipse showering behind the barn.” Mama’s friend was a tall string bean of a man with waist-length hair who spoke in rock-and-roll platitudes.

“I remember.” Mama lifted the top from the tea canister. “We had a big fight over that one.”

“His daughter was eight.” Jade gathered the wet dish towel and replaced it with a clean one. “What did you expect?”

“I’m sorry about Eclipse, Jade.” Mama tossed her tea bag into her mug. The same mug she used every night. “But if you want an apology about the way I lived, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“If I’ve learned anything from you, Mama, it’s ‘never apologize about the way you live.’”

Jade carried the damp dish towel to the laundry room between the kitchen and basement door. She paused, listening. A dog barked. A car drove past, blaring the radio. On the porch, Max paced, his heels scraping against the boards as he talked on his cell phone in deep tones.

“Is Max on the phone?” Mama peered out the door, folding her arms over her chest, shivering and hunching up her shoulders.

“Must be a client.” He’d been out there for almost a half hour. Left dinner to take the call.

The screen door clicked as Max entered. “Hey.” He held up his iPhone. “A friend.” Max popped open the fridge, stooping to see inside. “Do we have any Diet Cokes?”

“I think there’s one in there. I haven’t had time to shop.” Jade rounded the kitchen island, taking out a spoon and handing it to Mama. “Which friend? Mama, go on upstairs and get warm. I’ll bring up your tea.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Mama inched out of the kitchen.

Max popped open the coke can. “I was talking to Rice.” Blunt, to the point, without prelude.

Rice McClure had worked at Benson Law until she moved to California a few months after Jade and Max’s wedding. “How’s she doing? Still liking California?” Why was he standing so stiff? “Babe, it’s okay if you talk to your ex-fiancée. I’m fine with it. I like Rice, remember?”

“Yeah, right, I remember.” Max swigged his drink. “She said to tell you hi, by the way. And she loves California and the firm she’s working for. She just called to talk shop.”

“Is she coming home this summer for your high school reunion?”

“Don’t think so.” Max shook his head, still with his stiff posture and an air of reservation. “Reunions are not her thing.”

“Not her thing? Since when? She was on every prom, homecoming, and reunion committee since ninth grade.”

“I guess they’re not her thing anymore. People change. Sheesh, Jade, don’t make a federal case of it.” Max opened a cabinet door, looking, then slammed it shut. Then another. “Where are the Duke basketball glasses? Can’t we keep anything in the same place?”

“First of all, the Duke glasses are here.” Jade opened the cabinet by the refrigerator. “Where they always are, Max. Second of all, I’m not making a federal case out of anything.”

The kettle whistled.
Oh, Mama’s tea.
Jade snapped off the burner and poured steaming water in Mama’s mug. She glanced back at her husband. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Max filled the Duke glass with ice, then with the remains of his soda. “By the way, Dad beeped in while I was talking to Rice and wanted to know if you’d talked to Mom. He said they were supposed to have dinner with the McClures tonight, but she didn’t show.”

“Haven’t talked to her.” Jade squeezed in a spoonful of honey into Mama’s tea. At least not since yesterday when she asked to move into the loft. This morning she heard footsteps as she opened the shop, but June never showed in the Blue Umbrella.

“What’s that expression on your face?” Max, gruff and loud, tugged loose his tie as if he were suffocating.

“You mean the expression of me making Mama tea?” Her heart burned inside her chest, fueled by the secret she didn’t want to keep. Pulling the tea bag from the water and draining the excess, Jade welcomed the small chore as a valid distraction.

“No, the one of you hiding something.”

“You concluded that from my expression?”

“Call it lawyer instincts.” Max stepped around the island and lifted her chin with a touch of his finger. “Do you know something about Mom?”

“Why don’t you ask your dad?” Jade met his gaze as she headed out of the kitchen with Mama’s tea.

“Jade?” He followed her upstairs, then waited by the door while she situated Mama with her tea and helped her find a program to watch.

“I’ll check on you in a bit.”

Down the stairs, Max calmly descended behind her, rounding the staircase to meet her in the family room. She clicked on the lamp by her desk and launched e-mail and QuickBooks.

“Jade, there’s no guessing now. You’re hiding something.” He propped himself on the arm of the club chair. Jade had bought it at an estate sale a few months ago, and Max claimed it as his favorite chair.

“Max, if I tell you, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Why would I get mad at you?”

“Because it’s bad news, and bad-news messengers get shot at, knocked down, and labeled all the time.”

“I think I can rise above it, Jade.” He waited. “We’re friends. Lovers. No secrets once we married, right? Wasn’t that the deal?”

She regarded his face for a long moment. She, his wife, his lover and friend, was about to scourge his treasured childhood memories by telling him his hero was a cheating scum. Forever he’d associate her with the day he learned his father was an adulterer.

Jade had grown up hearing her parents fight, listening to every accusation. She’d watched her daddy drive away at midnight never to return. Max, even at thirty-eight, clung to the idea that his flawed and imperfect parents maintained an idyllic marriage.

“No, I can’t.” She turned back to her computer. “I won’t. Just ask your parents, Max.”

“I’m asking you.” He touched her arm to draw her attention. “How do you know what’s going on with them anyway?”

“I was there.” Jade’s fingers wrapped around a pen, and she absently tapped it against her desk.

“Where?”

“At Orchid House . . . last Thursday. I picked up your mom in the city when Honey dropped her off after their shopping trip.”

“What happened?” Max shoved up from the arm of the chair and stood, feet apart, arms crossed.

Jade jiggled her leg. Seeing Claire . . . hearing Rebel’s cold tone . . . witnessing June’s stone composure. Just what did Jade witness that evening?

“Jade?” Max grew impatient. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll imagine the worst thing possible.”

“Go ahead.” Jade exhaled a bit. What if he just guessed? “What’s the worst thing you can imagine?”

Max paced to the fireplace. “I don’t know . . . Cancer? Losing their home? Losing their faculties? Dad gambling the family fortune on a horse race and losing? Mom walking down Main Street naked like old man Arnold?” He watched her. “An affair?”

Jade didn’t fade or lessen her gaze. Could he read the answer from her soul?

“Mom’s having an affair?” Max knelt in front of her.

“Your mom? June Benson?” Jade scoffed. “When pigs fly.”

“Dad?”

Jade nodded. “Not his first, from what I could tell.”

He stood, hands on his belt. “You heard my dad confessing to my mom he’d had an affair? Or was having an affair?” Max’s expression morphed as he spoke from surprise to anger. “You two walked into the house and Dad said, ‘How was your trip, June? By the way, I’m having an affair’?”

“No. Your mom and I walked in on him . . . in the media room.” Jade winced. How many details should she reveal? “He was with your mom’s friend Claire. They were . . .” If she added the visual, she’d regret it. Max didn’t need to deal with that image.

“They were . . . what?”

“Half-naked.”
There. Get it and stop pushing
.

Max’s eyes narrowed with ire. “You and Mom walked in on Dad, at the house, with a naked—”

“Half-naked.”

“Woman? Claire Falcon?”