Now and Forever (40 page)

"Super!" Kat instantly approved, and Astrid looked touched.

"What a sweet thing to do."

Jessie looked almost embarrassed as she smiled and handed them to Katsuko.

"Ahh ... bullshit." All three of them laughed and Jessie sat back down to her coffee. "Send those out to her today, okay, Kat? Do you suppose we ought to send her something for the baby?" She didn't know why, but she wanted to celebrate Zina's baby. As though he, or she, were someone special.

"Not yet. It isn't due for months. Besides, that's bad luck." Astrid looked slightly uncomfortable. "What's with all the interest in maternity goodies?"

"I've decided that if I'm never going to be a mother, I might as well enjoy being an aunt. Besides, I figured that if I started buttering her up early, she might make me godmother." Astrid laughed, and Katsuko carefully folded the dresses into a box full of yellow tissue paper. She glanced quickly at Jessie, but Jessie got up and walked away. She felt lonely suddenly. Lonely for a child for the first time in her life. And why now? She decided that it was just because she was ready to love somebody again.

"She's going to adore them, Jessie. And who says you're never going to be a mother?" Katsuko was intrigued. It was the first time Jessie had talked openly about children. Katsuko had always suspected that Jessie must have come to some decision about children, but it was rare for her to open up about anything personal. She was not one of those women who discussed her sex life and her dearest dreams in the office. But Jessie seemed to be in an unusually chatty mood. And she didn't have Ian to confide in anymore. She often seemed hungry for someone to talk to these days. She sat down once more before she replied.

"I say I'm never going to be a mother. I mean, Jesus, have you seen what's out there these days? If I've been seeing any kind of standard sampling, I wouldn't think of propagating the breed. They ought to be considering how to stamp it out!" The other two women laughed and Jessie finished her coffee. "Halfwits, no wits, nitwits, and dimwits. Not to mention the ones who've blitzed out their brains on acid, the sonsofbitches cheating on their wives, and the ones with no sense of humor. You expect me to marry one of those darlings and have a kid, maybe?" And then her face grew serious. "Besides, I'm too old."

"Don't be ridiculous." Astrid spoke up first.

"I'm not. I'm being honest. By the time I got around to having a child, I'd be thirty-four, thirty-five maybe. That's too old. You should do it at Zina's age. How old is she? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven?" Katsuko nodded pensively and then asked Jessie a question that hit hard.

"Jessie ... are you sorry now that you didn't have children with Ian?" There was a long pause before she answered, and Astrid was afraid she'd lose her temper, or her cool, but she didn't.

"I don't know. Maybe I am. Maybe I can only say that because I've never been within miles of a kid. But it seems sad--worse than sad, wasted, empty--to live so many years with a man and have nothing. Some books, some plants, a few pieces of furniture, a burnt-out car. But nothing real, nothing lasting, nothing that says 'We were,' even if we aren't anymore, that says 'I loved you,' even if I don't love you anymore." There were tears in her eyes as she shrugged gently and stood up. She avoided their eyes and looked busy as she headed back to her little office. "Anyway, so it goes. Back to work, ladies. And don't forget to send the dresses to Zina right away, Kat." They didn't see her again until lunchtime, and neither Astrid nor Katsuko dared comment on the conversation.

But they were all basically happy. Jessie was restless and sick of the men she was going out with, but she wasn't unhappy. There were no traumas, no crises in her life anymore. And Astrid was still seeing the same man she had been seeing earlier that spring. And enjoying it more than she wanted to admit. He took her to the theater a lot, collected the work of unknown young sculptors, and had a small house in Mendocino that Astrid finally admitted she'd been to. She was spending weekends there, which was why Jessie never heard from her anymore between Friday and Monday.

Jessica was busy too; she was working Saturdays at Lady J, and there were always new men. The trouble was that there were never "old" men, men she had known long enough to feel comfortable with. It was always a birthday party, never old galoshes. She got bored with the constant explanations. Yes, I ski. Yes, I play tennis. No, I don't like to hike. Yes, I drive a car. No, I'm not allergic to shellfish. I prefer hard mattresses, wear a size eight narrow shoe, a size ten dress, am five feet ten and a half, like rings, love earrings, hate rubies, love emeralds ... all of the above, none of the above. It was like constantly applying for a new job.

She was having trouble sleeping again, but she had stayed away from pills ever since her stay at the ranch. She knew they weren't the solution, and someday ... someday ... someone would come along, and she'd want him to stay. Maybe. Or maybe not. She had even considered the possibility that no one would come along again. No one she could love. It was a horrible thought, but she did admit it as a possibility. It was what had made her suddenly and almost cruelly regret never having had children. She had always thought she had the option. Now her options were gone.

But maybe it didn't matter if she never had children, or loved another man, or ... maybe it didn't matter at all. She wondered if she had already fulfilled her destiny. Seven years with Ian, an explosion at the end, a boutique, and a few friends. Maybe that was it. There was a sameness to her life now, a blandness and lack of purpose that made her wonder. All she had to do was get up, go to work, stay at the shop all day, close it at five-thirty, go home and change, go out to dinner, say good night, go to bed. And the next day it would all start all over again. She was tired, but she wasn't depressed. She wasn't happy, but at least she wasn't frightened or lonely. She wasn't anything. She was numb.

Ian had sent a message, via Martin, not to sell the house; he'd buy her half eventually if he had to, but he didn't want the house to go. So she went on living there, but now it was just a house. She kept it tidy, it suited her needs, it was comfortable, and it was familiar. But she had put all of Ian's things in the studio and locked it. And the house had lost half its personality when she'd done that. It was just a house now. Lady J was just a shop. She was just another soon-to-be divorcee on the market.

"Morning, madam. Want a date?" Astrid was carrying lily of the valley as she walked into the shop, and she dropped a clump of it next to Jessie's coffee cup.

"Jesus, don't you look happy for this time of the morning." Jessica attempted a smile and winced, regretting the last half bottle of white wine the night before. But it pleased even Jessie to see Astrid like that, wearing her hair down much of the time now, and with a happy light in her eyes.

"Okay, Miss Sunshine. What kind of date?" She tried another smile and meant it. It was impossible not to smile at Astrid.

"A date with a man." She looked almost girlish.

"I should hope so. You mean a blind date?"

"No, I don't think he's blind, Jessica. He's only thirty-nine." The two women laughed and Jessica shrugged.

"Okay, why not? What's he like?"

"Very sweet, and a little bit 'not too tall.'" Astrid looked cautiously at Jess. "Does that matter?"

"Will I have to stoop over to talk to him?"

Astrid giggled and shook her head. "No. And he's really very nice. He's divorced."

"Isn't everyone?" It constantly amazed Jessie to realize how many marriages failed. She hadn't been that aware of it before she'd filed for divorce herself. It had always seemed that everyone she knew was married. And now everyone she knew was divorced.

They had dinner as a foursome that Thursday night, and Astrid's beau was delightful. He was elegant, amusing, and good-looking. In fact, he was the first man Jessie had met in a long time who actually appealed to her. He had the same kind of graceful looks as Ian, but with silver hair and a well-trimmed narrow rim of beard. He had traveled extensively, was knowledgeable in art and music, was very funny as he told of some of his exploits, and he was wonderful with Astrid. Jessica wholeheartedly approved, but what pleased her most about the evening was seeing Astrid's happiness. She had really found the perfect man for her.

Jessie's date for the evening was pleasant, kind, and unbearably boring. Divorced with three children, he worked in the trust department of a bank. He was also five feet seven, and Jessie had worn heels. She stood almost a head taller than he. But when Astrid suggested dancing, Jessie didn't have the heart to argue. At least this one didn't wrestle her at the door. He shook her hand, told her he'd call her while she made a mental note not to hold her breath waiting, and he went home alone. She was sure that by the next morning she wouldn't even remember his name. Why bother?

She took off her clothes and went to bed, but it was two hours later when she finally fell asleep. She felt as if she had just closed her eyes when the phone rang the next morning. It was Martin Schwartz.

"Jessie?"

"No. Veronica Lake." Her voice was husky and she was still half asleep.

"I'm sorry, I woke you."

"That's okay, I have to get to work anyway."

"I have something for you."

"My divorce?" She sat up in bed and reached for her cigarettes. She wasn't sure she was prepared for that kind of news.

"No. That won't be for another four months. I have something else. A check."

"What in hell for?" It was all very confusing.

"Ten thousand dollars."

"Jesus. But why? And from whom?"

"From your husband's publisher, Jessica. He sold the book."

"Oh." She exhaled carefully and frowned. "Well, put it in his account, Martin. It's not mine, for Chrissake."

"Yes, it is. He endorsed it to you."

"Well, unendorse it, dammit. I don't want it." Her hands were shaking now, and so was her voice.

"He says it's to reimburse you for my trial fee, and Green's fee, and a number of other things."

"That's ridiculous. Just tell him I don't want it. I paid those bills, and he doesn't owe me anything."

"Jessica... he signed it over to you."

"I don't give a damn. Cross it out. Tear it up. Do whatever you want with it, but I don't want it!" Her voice was rising nervously.

"Can't you do it for him? It seems to mean so much to him. I think it's a question of integrity with him. He really seems to feel that he owes this to you."

"Well, he's wrong."

"Maybe I'm wrong." Martin could feel a thin film of sweat veiling his brow. "Maybe he just wants to give it to you as a gift."

"Maybe so. But whatever the case, Martin, I will not accept the check." Martin's voice had been pleading and she shook her head vehemently as she stubbed out her cigarette. "Look. It's simple. He doesn't owe me anything. I don't want anything. I won't accept anything. I'm glad he sold the book, and I think that's just wonderful for him. Now he should keep the money and leave me alone. He's going to need money when he gets out anyway. Now that's it, Martin. I don't want it. Period. Okay?"

"Okay." He sounded defeated and they hung up. At her end, she was trembling; at his he sat looking out at the view, wondering how to tell Ian. His eyes had been so alive when he'd talked about paying Jessie back. And now Martin had to tell him this.

Jessie's day was off to a bad start. She burned her coffee, and her shower ran cold. She stubbed her foot on the bed, and the newspaper boy forgot to leave her the morning paper. She looked fierce by the time she got to the shop. Astrid looked at her sheepishly.

"All right, all right. I know. You hated him."

"Hated who?" Jessica looked suddenly blank.

"The guy we introduced you to at dinner last night. I never realized he was that dull."

"Well, he is, but that's not what I'm mad about, so forget it." And then she looked up and saw Astrid's face, hurt and confused, like a child's. "Oh, hell, Astrid, I'm sorry. I'm just in a stinking lousy mood. Everything has already gone wrong today. Schwartz called this morning."

"What about?" Astrid's face instantly turned worried.

"Ian sold his book."

"What's wrong with that?" The worry turned to confusion again.

"Nothing. Except he's trying to give me the money, and I don't want it, and it's a pain in the ass, that's all." She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. But Astrid's face was grave now.

"Now you know how he used to feel. Taking your money."

"What does that mean?"

"Just what it sounded like. Sometimes it's easier to give than it is to take."

"You sound like your mother."

"I could do worse."

Jessie nodded and walked into her office. She stayed there until lunchtime.

Astrid knocked on the closed door at twelve-thirty. A smile was struggling to escape her serious face ... wait till Jessie saw it! She forced her features back into an expression of official business and looked almost somber when Jessie opened the door.

"What's up?"

"We have a problem, Jessica."

"Can't you take care of it? I'm just checking the invoices."

"I'm sorry, Jessica, but I simply can't handle this."

"Terrific." Jessie threw her pen on the desk behind her and walked into the main room. Astrid watched her nervously. She had signed for it. Maybe Jessie would kill her, but she didn't care. She owed that much to Ian.

Jessie looked around. There was no one in the shop but Katsuko, busy on the phone. "So? Who's here? What's the problem?" She was beginning to look extremely annoyed.

"It's a delivery, Jessie. Outside. They made a big fuss about not unloading inside. Said something about not having to do anything more than make sidewalk deliveries, muttered about the waybill, and drove off."

"Damn them! We hassled that out with them last month, and I told them that if ..." She yanked open the door and stalked outside, her eyes blazing, checking the sidewalk for their delivery. And then she saw it. Parked in the driveway where Astrid's Jaguar had been a little while earlier.