Just Destiny (44 page)

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Authors: Theresa Rizzo

BOOK: Just Destiny
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A car approached, dissolving the phantom images. Jenny stood and moved out of the road. The driver slowed and rolled down the window. “Do you need help?”

She smiled at the young woman. “No, thanks. Just stretching my legs.”

“Okay.”

Jenny moved to the embankment and peered down the slope. It looked different without the blanket of leaves. She expected to maybe see a path where she rolled down, but the forest looked undisturbed. With a long sigh, Jenny turned back to the car, when something caught her eye.

She slipped down the incline, bracing her hands on tree trunks, until she came to a tree about fifteen feet down the slope. Bending over, she crouched beside the dirty, black plastic helmet. She picked it up and stood, fingering the frayed ribbed strap. Closing her eyes, Jenny pulled the old helmet to her chest and rocked back against the tree. She stayed that way for a minute before picking her way up the hill and returning to the car. She placed the helmet on the seat next to her and Ritz nosed it, snuffling loudly.

“Still smell like him, girl?”

Ritz whined and pawed her arm. Jenny patted her head before starting the car.

“It’s okay. We’re almost there.”

 

* * *

 

Jenny spent the next several days walking through the forest, with only Ritz and her jumbled thoughts for company. Sometimes she carried the old helmet with her, as if it were a good luck charm or a magic lamp that might spew forth answers instead of a genie. After a few morning walks on the beach, before sunbathers and young kids took over, produced no inspiration, Jenny left the helmet in her room and returned to the forest.

She found her way to their log by the pond, where she spent hours trying to become Steve. Lying back, balancing on the hard, rounded log, she closed her eyes and let the warm sun, buzzing bees and twittering birds transport her to a place where she could visualize the past couple of years from Steve’s perspective. She didn’t much like life from his shoes.

Whereas her years before Gabe’s death had been wonderful, filled with contentment and personal growth, she imagined Steve’s to have been fraught with jealousy and self-loathing.

Those confidential talks she’d shared with Steve about her insecurities as Gabe’s wife, her desire to have Gabe’s baby, baring her soul about her past, must have been really painful for him, yet Steve had managed to be the perfect friend, putting her happiness above his own.

To be honest, she’d always been aware of Steve on a sexual level—most women are when around handsome men. Steve could have tried to capitalize on that attraction. He could’ve tried to come between her and Gabe. They’d trusted him and he’d had plenty of opportunity to abuse that trust, but he’d been a steadfast friend to both of them, asking little in return.

Yet he was asking a lot now.

Steve or Gabe’s baby—she couldn’t have them both. The selfish part of her wanted to rail against Steve, but the fair part of her sympathized with his pain. Forcing her to choose wasn’t something he’d enjoyed. She could tell by his rigid body and scowling face that challenging her had filled him with self-loathing.

He was asking her to make him her world. He demanded that she be totally committed to him and him alone. Was that unreasonable? Sighing, she sat up and looked at the dog lying at her feet. “What do I do, Ritz?”

At the sound of her name, Ritz came to her feet and rested her golden head on Jenny’s thigh. “Steve’s my best friend. He’s always been there to listen and help. From the beginning, there was a connection. I could tell him anything and he never judged me.” She rested a hand atop the dog’s head.

“I told him things I was afraid to tell Gabe. I told him about Michael, but I couldn’t tell Gabe.” She released the dog and straddled the log. “Why not? Why couldn’t I tell Gabe? I loved him so much and I
know
he loved me. Why was I so afraid that knowing the truth about Michael would ruin what we had? Would it have?”

Jenny slid off the log and sat with her back against it. She looked around, hoping Gabe would walk out of the woods, if only for a few minutes to give her some advice.

“If I’d told you about Michael, would it have destroyed us, Gabe?” Ears straining, she searched the trees for the answer in the softly rustling leaves. “You were so good to me. When we first married, I was so insecure and pitiful, but you believed in me and that meant
everything
.

“Your love freed me. You gave me confidence and security. You were always so proud of me; I had to become a better person. But I was so afraid to tell you I was pregnant. Things were great between us and I was scared to death it’d ruin it—and I was right. Our argument got you killed. I got you killed.” Jenny’s eyes filled with tears.

“I wanted us to be able to share everything, but I couldn’t risk it. Why couldn’t I risk it? God, I miss you.” She rested her head on bent knees, her jeans greedily soaked up the hot tears slowly trickling down her cheeks. “Our baby would keep you alive. Just to look in his face and see your eyes or your smile. It’d mean everything to me.

“I can’t smell you in your bathrobe or sweaters anymore. I can’t remember your laugh. I listen to your messages on the answering machine every now and then, just to remember the sound of your voice.” With her sleeve, she wiped the gentle tears pooling at the corners of her mouth. “I still love you and miss you like crazy, but it doesn’t hurt as much—just makes me sad.” Jenny drew in a deep breath and stroked Ritz’s soft head. “What should I do about Steve?”

“He’s a good man and a great friend, but…Even though you’ve been gone almost a year, it seems…disloyal.” She sighed. “As happy as you made me and as much as I loved being married to you, I was always afraid I’d do something to blow it. Steve and I are easier. I can be me. And that’s such a relief. I could love him, but I still love you too.” She banged her head against the log, hoping to pound in some sense.

“Gabe, tell me what to do, ’cause I’m seriously at a loss here. I didn’t show you the trust you’d always given me and I should have.” She froze and her eyes opened wide. “Well, I’m trusting you now. You’re still with me—I feel you in my heart. Show me what to do.”

Jenny felt a big wet drop on her head. She jerked her face to the sky and felt her head. Had a bird pooped on her? Another drop landed on her cheek, and then her leg. It was raining. Jenny scanned the clear, blue sky. Rain? Raining in sunlight meant a rainbow somewhere. A happy ending.

“Rain tears for a fresh start or tears of sadness saying don’t let me go?” Jenny looked skyward. “A little more help, please.”

 

* * *

 

Steve coasted through the amber light and turned onto Lakeshore Drive. Rubbing tired eyes, he was thankful for the absence of late night traffic, knowing he was incapable of concentrating. His own stupidity and Jenny’s disappearance whirled around his brain, worrying him so he’d been unable to think of anything else for days.

He wanted to find Jenny to apologize for being such an ass and to retract that dumb ultimatum. Driven by fear of a life without Jenny’s laughter and friendship, he’d gone to her house to apologize, but she and Ritz were gone. And she wasn’t answering her cell phone. Three days later, they still hadn’t returned.

Jenny had probably gone into hiding to lick her wounds. Or maybe she was resting somewhere peaceful after her egg extraction, praying that they’d made lots of Huntington’s-free embryos. His empty stomach clenched.

He’d called Jenny’s editor, but only found out that she had no pending assignments. He’d put off calling her parents; if they didn’t know her whereabouts, he didn’t want to concern them, but he was beginning to worry. Where was she? Did she hate him? Did she need him?

Where the hell are you, Jen?

He turned into his drive and drew up short. For a brief second, his headlights illuminated something strange on the Harrison’s lawn. He peered through the dark and with only the distant streetlight to see by, he made out the distinctive shape of a For Sale sign.

Almost absentmindedly, he noted that Jenny’s house was lit when it’d been dark and empty the previous nights. Thrusting the gear into park, Steve glared at the sign.

Jenny was selling her and Gabe’s home? She loved that house; why would she sell?

To escape you
, his inner demon whispered.
Well, there’s your answer, dumbass. You made her choose. All because you’re afraid you couldn’t measure up to a dead man—a dead man, for Chrissake
.

As if in a trance, Steve turned off his ignition. Leaving the door wide open, he left the car in the middle of his drive and stalked over to the wooden stake holding the tasteful green and white sign advertising a local realtor.

Gritting his teeth, he rammed his arm into the pole. It took three more furious thrusts to shove the sign to the ground and that didn’t begin to satisfy him. Steve marched to Jenny’s door and pounded loudly against the solid wood. The pain in his clenched fist barely registered. He flinched as the bright porch light temporarily blinded him; fueling his anger.

Jenny’s welcoming smile quickly evaporated, replaced by a wary look. Not happy to see him, eh? Was she expecting someone else? His roiling feelings must have showed on his face, because she stepped back in surprise. The caution flickering in her eyes deflated his anger. Why’d she given him that strange look as she closed the door behind him, crossed her arms protectively across her chest and leaned back against the door as if needing its support?

“You’re moving?” He blurted out the question, though it sounded like an accusation.

Smile fading, Jenny thought about mimicking his quip from their celebration dinner, “Well hello to you too,” but he didn’t look like he’d appreciate the joke. With his mouth set in a tight line, hair falling across his forehead, and his hands fisted on his hips, Steve looked both furious and oddly, hurt.

“Eventually—after someone buys the house. Come in.” Jenny stood back for him to pass. She leaned against the door a moment to try and better gauge his strange mood before leading the way down the hall, only to return with slow hesitant steps when he hadn’t followed.

Steve stood rooted to the spot. Silent and unmoving, he looked ready to explode. “Why?”

What was wrong with him? He looked eerily calm, yet ready to attack. She eased closer, wary. “Why what?”

“Why’re you moving? You love this house.”

He was upset because she was selling the house? She’d thought it would be a great surprise, an obvious message as clear as removing her wedding rings. She shrugged. “It’s only a house. I love you more.”

“What?”

Jenny reached for the hand clamped on his waist. She pried his fist open and threaded her fingers through his, warming it between her hands. “If we’re going to discover whether we have a future together, I thought we’d want to get rid of as much emotional baggage as possible.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped and he crushed her hand. “Where’ve you been?”

“Away. I had to think.”

“You could have left a message or a note.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Jenny led him into the family room, and they sat down on the couch. She’d thought that selling the house would say it all, but obviously he needed the words. That’s okay; she could do it. He deserved it.

Taking a deep breath, Jenny blew the hair away from her eyes. “I haven’t been fair to you. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you. I love you.” She paused and tilted her head to better see his expression. “If you still want to, I’d love to see if we have a future together—love and physical attraction alone aren’t enough for the long haul.” She smiled mischievously. “But it’s a pretty good start.”

Steve stared at her, looking like he still had trouble processing her words. “You love me?”

She nodded.

“What about the baby?”

“The baby. I…I guess it’s never really been
all
about the baby. I was furious that George—that
anyone
, could tell me I couldn’t have my husband’s baby. It’s none of their business. And…well, a large part of me was desperate to hang onto Gabe through the baby.”

Jenny sighed. “I’d fooled myself into believing that having Gabe’s baby would make it all better, as if he hadn’t died at all if I could look into a child’s face and see Gabe in him. But that wouldn’t bring Gabe back, and it wouldn’t be fair to burden a child with those expectations.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded. “It took me some time to figure it out, but now that I have, it feels right. I need to let Gabe go and move on.”

“I’m not asking you to forget Gabe.”

“I know. You see, the whole thing about the baby was, as long as I was fighting for Gabe’s baby, I never really had to accept his death. But now that it’s over, I realized a baby won’t replace the things I miss most about Gabe. So…it was time to let him go,” she gulped against the sadness, then shrugged. “Only, I couldn’t.”

“Oh, babe. I’m sorry.” He brushed the hair from her face and tucked it behind one ear.

“It’s okay. I’ll always love Gabe—not the same way I love you, but I don’t have to give him up, I can love you both.”

Steve pulled back.

“Don’t go getting all hurt and defensive.” Jenny took his hand and leaned close. “I can love you both. I’m not the same immature, insecure girl I was when I married Gabe. I’ve changed. Gabe helped me discover who I was and brought out the strength and confidence in me—and for that he’ll always have a place deep in my heart.” Her warm smile faded. “I only wish I could have done as much for him.”

“Jenny, he adored you. You were the love of his life.”

Her heart melted at his kind words. “I hope so. Gabe showed me that a pure love can expand infinitely like a forever balloon. There’s no need to let go, I just found that extra room in my heart that’d been there all along.” She searched his face. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does.” He squeezed her hand. “I never wanted you to forget him.”

“I know.”

“You’re sure about us?”

Jenny nodded and smiled. “Positive. I’ll always cherish Gabe, but you’re the love of my life. I can be everything I was with Gabe and more with you. You’re my best friend. You’re honest and trustworthy. A little arrogant and competitive”—she shrugged—“but I guess I can live with that; Lord knows I’m not perfect. More importantly, I can tell you anything and know that though you might not always agree with me, you’ll always love me and have my back. And—” she grinned, “it doesn’t hurt that you’re hot.”

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