The Anatomy of Jane (27 page)

“Hi, I hate to wake you, but we’re landing.” She was gorgeous when she slept; she was stunning all the time, and it made it hard to concentrate.

“We’re landing?” she repeated, confused, sitting up and covering her mouth as she yawned. She paused, looking around the plane. “We’re landing? We’re in London?” She was so excited it was cute.

“No. I’m from Cornwall, Falmouth specifically. London is about six hours away from here.”

She didn’t seem to care; she just beamed.

“I’m in England! Wes, I’m so excited.”

“I can tell.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seatbacks and tray tables are in their full, upright position. Make sure your seatbelt is securely fastened and all carryon luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you.”
The flight attendant spoke, but I doubt Jane heard her. Instead, she stared out the window.

“You can ignore the flight attendant, sweetheart, but don’t ignore me.”

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m merely admiring the country that created you and gave you that brilliant accent,” she shot back, holding my hand.

In a split second, a dozen ways I could make her moan my name and pay attention solely to me came to the front of my mind.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the new Cornwall Airport. Local time is 3:47 p.m. and the temperature is 9 degrees Celsius or 48 degrees Fahrenheit. For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until the captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. This will indicate that we have arrived at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about the cabin.”

“Are your moms picking us up?” she asked, already trying to fix her hair.

“Yes, and they are quite scrupulous when it comes to the appearance of other women. But just ignore them—”

“Wes, why did you let me sleep?” She panicked, reaching under the chair in front of her for a bag. I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “What? Is there something on my face? Did I drool?”

“Jane, relax. First of all, you did not drool. Secondly, you look beautiful as you are, and thirdly, my mums don’t even know we’re here.”

“What?” Her shoulders drooped, but she glared as if she were about to kill me. Luckily the seat belt light turned off, and I unlocked mine to get up.

“What do you mean your moms don’t know we’re here?”

“Well, remember I did come up with this idea very last minute,” I reminded her, taking my bag from overhead.

She didn’t look pleased about it, but she took my hand anyway. “Do your moms like surprises?”

“They love them. It’ll be like a Christmas miracle. Now, come on.”

The moment we got off the plane, I took a deep breath. It was freezing, but it was home. I hadn’t realized how happy I’d be to be back, and more importantly, how excited I was to finally show someone where I grew up. Max had met my mothers when they’d come to Boston, but he had never come over. He meant to, he said, but work kept getting in the way.

“Shit, I forgot to fill out the customs form,” Jane muttered, letting go of my hand to dig in her bag. I didn’t want to stop touching her; I couldn’t. I placed my hand on her back and I waited and then I realized, no one stared at me. No one stared at us. A few people smiled and nodded as they walked by, but not once did I get those looks. The ‘how dare you be gay and happy in public’ looks? I was just a guy waiting for a gorgeous girl.

“This isn’t working,” she replied, trying to write on the paper over her hand. She paused and looked at me, her eyes roaming my chest.

“My eyes are up here,” I smirked.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around.”

Doing as she asked, I turned. She handed me her purse then used my back as a desk to write. I took it back…people started to stare. A few girls giggled and a few men just nodded to me as if we were speaking some secret code of understanding.

I didn’t mind it at all.

“You’re fucking with me.” I gasped. My eyes were about to fall out of my head. It had taken us an hour from the airport to his home, and I still couldn’t believe my eyes. “You live in a castle?”

“It is not a castle! It’s more like a cottage that looks kind of like a castle if you are from America and don’t know what castles look like,” he replied with a large grin on his face.

“Tell me now, are you a prince? Is your real name Prince Wesley Fitz-Lloyd Uhler Dickens or something like that?”

“Jane.” He was laughing, but I was serious. “First of all, that name is quite good. Secondly, no I’m not a prince, and no, it’s not a castle. It’s probably the same size as Max’s penthouse.”

Opening the door and stepping on the gravel as he got out as well, I exhaled while quickly giving my hair one more brush. After we had gone through customs, I’d made him stop so I could brush my teeth, fix my hair, and do my makeup in the bathroom.

“Relax, my mothers are harmless. A little crazy so you will fit right in—ouch.” I cut him off by punching his arm.

“Don’t freak me out. I’m already nervous.”

Shaking his head, he walked up to the green door and knocked once, then twice, then paused before knocking up and down the door.

He took a step back, and a second later a woman around my height with short dirty blonde hair and an ear full of piercings on one side but only a stud in the other opened the door. Her glasses rested on her nose. She stared at us for a moment before slamming the door in our faces.

“I told you,” Wes said, not even surprised. “They are crazy.”

A second later, the same woman came out, this time with a fly swatter and started to smack him. “You little twat!” she screamed as she hit him.

“Ouch, Mum! Mum!” he yelled, dodging her swings.

“How can you let me answer the door looking like a loon?” She hit him again. “And when you bring a guest too!”

“Mum! Okay all right! I’m sorry, but now you’ve embarrassed me enough.”

“Don’t mind them.”

I turned to the other woman. She had shoulder length brown-gray hair and green eyes, and she smiled at me kindly.

“You must be Jane.”

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to me you, ma’am.” I stretched out my hand but she linked arms with me to bring me inside.

“My name is Pippa, not ‘ma’am’. Do I look old to you?” She eyed me carefully and I shook my head.

“Not at all; we could be twins in fact.”

“You’re sucking up to me?”

“Is it working?”

She grinned and then turned back to Wes and his other mother. He was now chasing her and tickling her sides while both of them laughed like mad.

“You two will freeze, and I’m not cutting off your toes no matter how much you beg, Wes,” Pippa yelled at them.

“What?” I huffed, trying not to laugh.

“When he was a kid, he was always the drama queen. He got a paper cut and he thought he needed stitches. He got the flu, he was writing a will. One day he jumped into a frozen lake and came home crying and begging us to cut off his toes so he could save his leg.”

What? That didn’t sound like him at all. “How old was he?”

“Six.” She shrugged and we both laughed.

“Whatever she is saying, there is a perfectly good explanation,” Wes said the moment he came back inside with his mother beside him. She was breathing a lot heavier than he was, and she didn’t look happy about it.

“Is there an explanation for sniffing Mr. Edwards’ dog’s ass—”

“I was four! I don’t even remember!” he gasped out, exasperated, which made both of his mums laugh. Walking over to Pippa, he gave her a short hug and kissed the side of her face before adding, “She just got through the door, so please keep the embarrassing stories to a minimum.”

“No, please. I love this. Back home he’s the cool one. Wesley, the handsome and godly chef. I’m glad I get to see you as more human.”

“I prefer handsome and godly.” He pouted, putting his hand on my back.

Rolling my eyes, I bowed. “Yes, Chef.”

“Better—ouch—Mum, this is abuse.” He frowned when she pinched him.

“Hello darling, I’m Brenda.” She put her hands on my face. “It is such a pleasure to meet you. Had my wanker son told us you were coming, we would have cooked something.”

“You’re welcome,” Wes stage-whispered to me to me as he walked farther into the house. Brenda glared at him. He whistled and I was expecting some kind of dog, but instead a gray bird came out of nowhere and flew onto his hand.

“Wesley’s home,” the bird said and I laughed. He came over to me and I took a step back. Again the bird said, “Wesley’s home.”

“What do we tell Wesley?” Pippa asked the bird.

“Get in the kitchen. Make a sandwich.”

Wesley turned to face them both. “How long have you been training him to say that?”

“A while.” Brenda shrugged, taking my arm. “Now go while we get to know more about Jane here.”

“Mum, we’ve just arrived. We’re tired and—”

“Jane, are you tired?” Pippa asked me.

“No ma—no Pippa, I’m fine,” I corrected myself quickly.

“See. Now go.” Brenda nodded.

“I’m going. I’m going,” he replied before giving me a quick look.

“She’ll be fine. Now go.” Pippa pushed him. “Mozart, what should Wesley do?”

“Get in the kitchen. Make a sandwich.”

“I’m going.” He moved over to me and kissed the side of my head, and I tried to angle myself away from Mozart. I wasn’t really a bird person.

“Get in the kitchen. Make a sandwich.”

“One more time and I’m feeding you to Mr. Edwards’ cat,” Wes muttered as he walked around the corner.

“I’ll get some tea,” Pippa said, following him.

I was going to tell her not to worry about it, but I didn’t really want to turn down tea from a British woman in her own home.

“So…Jane.” Brenda led me into their living room, which had a beautiful view of the ocean. “Tell me, when did you fall in love with my son?”

My mouth dropped open. “It’s not like that. We’re…we’re close, but we’re hardly in love or anything.”

“My son wouldn’t have brought you here if he didn’t care about you. Relax, I’m not one of those menacing mothers who get overprotective of their sons. Well, I am, but I doubt I have anything to worry about with you.”

My palms didn’t usually sweat, but I had a feeling there was a first time for everything.

“It’s really complicated.”

“I’m an author dear,” she said, making herself comfortable on the couch. “Complicated love stories are the best kind.”

God help me.

“Are you going to keep staring?” my mom, Pippa, asked me as she put the teakettle on the stove.

“What?”

“You keep looking toward the living room as if she’s going to disappear…and you’re letting the cold air out.” She nodded to the door of the refrigerator I still had open.

“Shit—”

“Language.”

Rolling my eyes, I closed the door and moved to lean against the sink. Mozart was now standing on his post, pecking at his own wings.

“Did you break it off with Max?” she asked as if it were that simple.

“No.”

“Does she know?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Mum…” I’d never needed to come out to my mums before. They’d never cared and I knew it was not a big deal, but this was.

“Yes?” She turned to face me.

“All…all three of us are together. Max. Me. Her, all of us.”

“Wesley!” She stared on in shock.

“I know.” I cut her off before she could speak. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not right. This is complicated. You can’t love two people at the same time. One or all of us will get hurt. I know, Mum. I know. But…”

“But!”

Sighing, I went back to how I’d felt the day before when Jane had told me about Elspeth’s plan. “I had an interview with a chef yesterday morning. I admire him more than anyone in the industry, and he told me to go out there. To learn more and not get locked into one city, or not yet, at least. The moment he said it, I wanted to go anywhere…everywhere. I was excited at the thought of learning something new to cook.”

“I’m not sure I understand the connection here,” she replied, taking the kettle off the stove.

“I thought about this all day.” I went on. “Where I would go? How they would feel if I did go. I felt so torn and then she texted me. She said ‘I love you’. I couldn’t help but smile. I was so choked up that I walked into a damn wall. Immediately, every thought that had been running through my head since I the interview disappeared. I didn’t want to go anywhere she wasn’t…where they both weren’t. I’m in love with her and I’m in love with Maxwell. I don’t know if it’s equal. How do you measure how much you love someone? If they were both hanging off a cliff and I could only choose one, I’d join them on the cliff and hope we could go together. I can’t divide myself from them.”