Catch of the Year (22 page)

“It was bad for me, when you did that.”

“I know. I'm sorry, poppet.” Marigold put her hand on Jade's back and rubbed it soothingly. “It's hard to explain the appeal of that time, of the gypsy life we led.” She leaned against the counter, a faraway look in her eye. “We were so idealistic, believing in freedom and love, that we could change the whole world. We scorned the materialistic outlook and values of our modern society. Going against established ways seemed almost like a mission. And I still believe a lot of that was good, and valid. It was only a pity that it got kind of sidetracked into a dropping out and turning on kind of thing, which meant for some people it deteriorated into a drug culture.”

Jade turned away from the sink and hugged her mother.

Marigold released her and looked into her eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“You're right. There's only one way. I have to tell him, have to beg for another chance. Oh God, I'm so scared … . Do you think he'll be able to forgive me?”

“No one can say. But this I can tell you, there's a kind of affirmation that happens when you tell the truth. Somehow strength and rightness flow in. You just have to do the courageous thing. If everything works out, don't you think that would be worth it?”

Jade stared at her mother. Why had she never appreciated or realized how wise Marigold was before? During the teen years, she'd gotten into the habit of deriding and mocking her, and somehow that had stuck. She hadn't moved on to see the real person there. Her mom might have been flighty and irresponsible when Jade was little, but she'd been very young herself then. Over the years, she'd changed and grown into a woman her daughter could admire. And even hope to emulate.

“Will you go to him right away?”

Jade took a moment to consider. “I don't think so. At the moment, I'm feeling too jittery and unsure of myself. Also, there's something symbolic I need to do first.” She turned back to the sink and picked up another pot. “I'll go tomorrow.”

The morning brought strength and resolution to Jade. If she wanted Paul, and she knew by the ache in her heart that she truly, truly did, then she had to go to him and plead for another chance, no matter how hideously awful that would be.

She got up, pulled on her bathing suit and went for a swim. Her mother was already down at the lake, wading tranquilly, occasionally picking up sharp stones from the bottom of the lake and throwing them farther into the water. The splashing sounded happy. Jade wondered if
happy
was something that lay in store for her that day and over the months ahead.

Not long after, Adrian arrived, sleepy and disheveled. He didn't say a word but took a kind of topple into the lake.

By the time the family breakfasted together, Jade was tempted to let the morning unwind as it would.

No, if she was going to do this, she had to go now.

“Is it okay if I take the boat this morning, everyone?”

“Of course,” Marigold answered. “We could drop you off on our way into the store, if you like.”

“Thanks. I'd better not wait.”

A doomed, sinking feeling fell like a stone into Jade's stomach. The noise and vibration of the boat's motor added to the trembling inside. How was she ever going to explain? Convince him she loved him?

She only hoped Paul wouldn't find it as difficult to forgive her as she was finding it to make herself so vulnerable to him. The possibility he'd reject her completely was all too alive in her mind. Although it would be for a different reason, just as she'd feared when she'd first seen him at the roadside, her life would be in ruins.

But you have to try
, Tweety chirruped in a fading voice. The bird seemed to be getting fainter, no longer so present or persistent.

• • •

Paul turned from his contemplation of the lake and headed through the trees toward the shed. Yesterday, Steve had called to tell him Serendipity knew he was at the cabin. He wasn't sure how he'd feel if she came to him. What he'd say. Over the past days, physical labor had proved therapeutic. He'd found himself grateful for the beauty and solace of nature, and for the chance to work on the sculpture. Accessing that zone of creativity meant he put his own concerns aside and allowed the wood, and what was struggling to reveal itself, speak to him.

While he chiseled and carved, what spoke to him was Serendipity. With his mind floating free, he could see, could understand, her difficulties with herself, how she needed to integrate the two parts of her personality. But that was not up to him. Only she could recognize and meld the two together. Whether or not she'd have the bravery to lay her whole life on the line for him … this he didn't know.

Knocking sounds issued from the shed-like structure Jade presumed was a garage. Abandoning her intention of approaching the front door, she instead made her way along a grassy path, her footsteps accompanied by the ever-louder noise of hammering. The wide weather-beaten doors stood open. She stepped inside.

For a few minutes Jade stood still, taking in the scene that met her eyes. The thrill of seeing Paul again hit her with a physical rush. Underneath the sleeveless tee shirt he wore, his back muscles rippled, making her appreciate anew the beauty of his long male body. And yet, there was more than that. Some heart-lifting gladness, a sense of rightness, rayed through her.

Bang, bang, bang. Totally absorbed, Paul hit the chisel with the hammer, shaving off sheer pieces of wood. The evidence of his industry lay all around him, like autumn leaves around a tree.

Better not interrupt him. A surprise could prove dangerous, so she waited until he paused. At last he lowered his arms, took a couple of steps back, and gazed at his work of art.

“Hallo Paul,” she said in her Jade voice.

His head whipped around. The hammer and chisel fell to the ground.

“Serendipity!”

For a fleeting second, she thought she saw joy in his eyes. But then he withdrew, his expression guarded.

“So, what brings you here?” He stood with legs apart, hands on his hips. “I didn't exactly expect to see you again, not after that little stunt you pulled.”

“I know. I'm so very, very sorry.”

Paul's body had been hiding the sculpture. Now he stepped aside. There, revealed, Jade saw the almost-finished statue. Out of the twists and convolutions of the wood, the figure of a woman had emerged, long locks of hair streaming around her like a cloak, her eyes half closed, dreamy. The face was already smooth, having been worked on more than any other area. It was her, Serendipity Jade Jellicoe.

Fascinated by his skill and vision, she took a few steps closer. He watched and waited while she circled the statue.

So this was what he saw in her … someone so much finer than she was now. He'd captured something she wasn't, but could be, might be, one day in some future time. She felt moved, honored, humbled. And all choked up.

She cast a quick glance at Paul and swiped a hand across her eyes. Looking again at the statue, she considered the emerging figure, part undine, part human. How was it that he'd captured her so eloquently? Could it be she was imprinted on his soul, as he was on hers? A small ray of hope, a thin sliver of light, boosted her courage.

“The Spirit of the Lake.” Jade's voice was hushed.

“Do you know her?”

“Maybe I do,” she whispered, “Or at least, I'm beginning to.”

Drawing together all her resolution, she turned to face him. “First of all, I apologize for last Sunday,” she began.

His face remained impassive.

“You see, when I walked out on you, it was because — ” She broke off. “There were … complications.”

“Really?”

He didn't sound too convinced or too interested. Bending down, he picked up his fallen tools and placed them on the workbench against the wall.

She hadn't realized how easily
cool
could turn to
cold
.

“Yes. Um.” She made a kind of pleading gesture. “Do you think we could, er, talk?”

“Isn't that what we're doing?”

“I suppose. But I need to tell you something and … and it would be easier if we were somewhere else.”

“Like on the beach? On the lake? In the bedroom?”

All the places where they'd made love. She felt his pain, and also his accusation, piercing through those questions. “Maybe … on the stoop?”

His eyes narrowed as if he were searching her expression for something. She lifted her chin a little.

“I suppose that's appropriate. Not inside, yet not outside, either. Neither one thing nor the other. You go and sit.” He walked toward the doorway. “I didn't hear the Harley, so I presume you walked from the resort?”

She nodded.

“I'll be a minute. Need to wash my hands.”

Time dragged as she sat, nervously waiting. One way or the other, her fate would soon be sealed. Desperately she hoped to find the right words to explain, words that would reach his heart and not harden it further. She listened to the cooing of a dove, thinking about the time she'd heard the loon's rippling laugh. Where was it now? Probably swimming happily with its mate, perhaps carrying a small brood of little ones on its back.

Paul returned, but he didn't sit next to her. Instead, he leaned against the wooden post of the stoop and folded his arms.

She sat forward, took in a breath and let it all whoosh out. “You know I'm not only Serendipity, but Jade, as well.”

“Jade Jellicoe.” He nodded slowly, staring at her. “Ever since I found out, I wondered if I should have done the carving out of stone.”

She flinched, grabbed on to the front of the chair seat and curled her hands over the edge.

Paul went on. “So what's this got to do with me?”

“What it's got to do with you, is that I want there to be an ‘us.'”

“Is that so?”

She couldn't stand this. It was like trying to swim through soup. Jumping up, she went to stand in front of him.

“That's what I came for … firstly, to apologize. I'm sorry I skipped out on you. That must be one of the worst things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Abandonment issues? Because of your dad?”

“Those I worked through a looong time ago.” A little more relaxed, he stretched both arms out against the railing.

She swallowed. “Worse, I deceived you. I need to explain how it all came about.”

As she told him why she'd adopted her Jade persona, explained her fears about whistle blowing, and all that rested on her job with the agency, he stood silent and still.

“So lastly,” she said, “I'm hoping, pleading, for your forgiveness, Paul.”

He lowered his arms. “What difference would it make if I gave it or not?”

“If you forgive me … ” She was desperate. Would she ever get through to him? “Maybe we could have a chance for a future together.”

“A future? Who would I be having a future with? Jade doesn't really appeal to me. Oh, I'm sure she has some sterling traits — she's smart and practical and a good businesswoman — but I've never much liked her, let alone loved her.”

Oh God.
She closed her eyes, hoping, praying. “Even if she loves you as much as Serendipity does?”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you, Paul.”

“You love me?” He turned away to look out over the lake, across to the horizon, a sharply drawn dividing line between heaven and earth. “You love me.” This time it was a statement. Was it her imagination, or did his voice hold a note of wonder? Her hopes rose. But when he turned back to her, he was frowning. “It's hard to get a handle on who's really involved here. I don't know who I'm dealing with. Which
are
you, really?”

She reached out, needing to be closer but not quite daring to touch him. “Jade by name. But Serendipity at heart.”

“And what's there, in your heart?” His tone was gruff, but the expression in his eyes had softened.

“You're in my heart, Paul. You and me. Together.”

Now they were face to face.

“This is me.” She said quietly, holding her hands away from her body in a gesture that proclaimed, “this is me, just as I am.”

“The big question is, which
me
is it?” His gaze probed hers, serious, intent. She sensed his longing.

“Both. It has to be both,” she emphasized. “The two aspects, integrated into one.”

“Sounds complicated.” Up went his brows. “How are you planning to go about that?”

“First of all, I'm leaving the agency. I already burned the wig.”

“Really?” His lips twitched at that piece of information. She managed a small smile in response.

“Hmm,” he continued. Reaching out, he took her hand. How wonderful that felt, warm and loving and comforting. Especially when she'd feared he'd never want anything more to do with her again.

“Oh, Paul. I've hated myself for all the lies, for deceiving you. Hated that I've hurt you. I even hated terminating you … oh how I hated having to do that.”

“That's a lot of hate.” His eyes twinkled. And oh, that dimple! “You know, being let go was the best thing that could have happened to me. But we can talk about that later. Make plans. Do some dreaming.”

All the anguish of the past days melted away, to be replaced by an exalted joy. “That would be wonderful. You see, I'm ready to step into a new life.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

He came to take her in his arms. “Me too. And I'd like you to be in it with me.”

“Oh Paul.” To be in his arms again when she feared she'd lost him … . “Now can you please say it?”

“I love you.” He was completely serious now, his tone so tender. “With every ounce of my heart.”

She nestled her head into his shoulder. Tears of relief and happiness rose up from her heart, through her throat, to her eyes.