Once Around (14 page)

"
You stick with your own kind up there," he'd said as they drove to the airport six weeks ago. "Nothing but Jews and Communists in New York, if you ask me."

"
New Jersey, Daddy," she'd said with a look toward Jo Ellen. "Princeton's in New Jersey."

"
New Jersey, New York. Same damn thing if you ask me." Jim Wyatt's eyes glittered with fifty-five years of suspicion. "Nothing but a bunch of Communists up there. Jew Commie bastards looking to make the blacks king of the world."

It didn
't matter to Jim Wyatt that Communism had been dead for almost two decades. Old hates were good hates, and he clung to them the way other men clung to their recliner chairs and remote controls.

Jessy was through trying to make him see
, the light. This time tomorrow she'd be walking down one of those picture-postcard Princeton streets, breathing that ratified air, acting like she belonged there. No more of her daddy's rants about Jews and Communists and blacks when it was really his own pathetic lot in life that had him so all-fired mad at the world.

"
Now, you let the girl alone, Jimmy." Her mama's voice was soft and apologetic, but Jessy knew there was a core of steel inside the woman. If it hadn't been for Jo Ellen's determination, Jessy would have ended up married to Danny Watson, dying a little more every day. Jo Ellen's ambition had been the fuel that got Jessy through med school. "She's going up there to be a doctor. She doesn't have time to be worryin' about your nonsense."

Daddy
's lips thinned so flat they almost disappeared. "You won't think it's nonsense when we're all speaking Spanish."

Jessy couldn
't help it. She burst out laughing. She didn't meet Jo Ellen's eyes because she knew her mama couldn't so much as crack a smile, or the wrath of God would fall on her narrow shoulders. As it was, Jim Wyatt would be all over his wife with angry words and accusations the minute Jessy's plane taxied toward the runway.

"
They're callin' my flight, Daddy! I'll write soon as I'm settled." Jim didn't say much of anything, just stood real still as she kissed his cheek. Whatever he was feeling, he kept it all buried inside himself. He hated much better than he loved, her daddy did, but that wasn't her problem anymore.

"
I'm getting the car," he said to her mother. "You be out front, Jo Ellen. I'm not waitin' around all night for you."

Her mama nodded
, but her focus was on Jessy, same as it had been since the day she was born. All of her mother's unanswered dreams were wrapped up in her little girl, the one who was going to make those dreams all come true. Jo Ellen's eyes were wet with tears, but Jessy knew her mama was too proud to let them fall in public. Oh, she'd cry later on. Probably in the shower, with the door locked and the water running so nobody could hear her. That was the way she'd cried when she'd heard her sixteen-year-old baby was carrying a baby of her own.

"
It's for the best," Jo Ellen had said, smoothing Jessy's choppy light brown hair with gentle fingers. "Giving that baby away is the right thing to do." That was back when Jessy still believed those gentle fingers could hold back an army of hurt. "You have your whole life ahead of you, Jessy. Don't let your dreams slip away."

Jessy had be
en in line for a scholarship to Duke. Premed. Everything her mother had ever wanted for her. If she kept the baby, she could kiss all of those dreams good-bye forever.

Her daughter was taken from her womb
, cleaned up, and presented to her new parents. Little did they know Jessy's heart went with her.

Now here she was
, in faraway Princeton, living her mother's dreams for her. She'd graduated at the top of her class. She'd performed flawlessly as an intern. Her residency at Princeton was a major coup.

"
You've got to be the best," Jo Ellen had said to her at the airport. "That's the only way out."

I
am
out,
Jessy had wanted to say, but she knew Jo Ellen wouldn't hear her.

She was a good doctor but she
'd never be a great one. Technical expertise without passionate commitment would keep her from achieving the top rung of success. Her dreams were smaller—and in some ways much harder to come by. She wanted someone to love her.

She wanted Spencer
Mackenzie.

The doctors
' lounge was filling up. She tossed the last of her things into her bag then closed both lockers. She was on duty tonight, which meant she had just enough time to drive back to Molly Chamberlain's house, unpack, shower, then drive back to the hospital.

Quickly she checked her reflection in the mirror. Big mistake. It didn
't seem to make much of a difference. She looked like something the cat dragged in, with her braid unraveling and the dark circles under her too-small eyes and the pallor that pegged her as a first-year resident. At least it was only pallor. As an intern, she'd looked downright cadaverous. But, no matter how you looked at it, she was no match for Molly Chamberlain. The thought of seeing, Molly first thing every morning, sometimes even before her first cup of coffee, was enough to make her reconsider. Maybe sleeping in the doctors' lounge for the next few years wasn't such a bad idea after all.

She must have been crazy to think Spencer Mackenzie would ever notice her with Molly around. For a couple of minutes there
, she'd actually almost convinced herself that she had a chance. In theory she looked like a contender: she was single, a doctor, and not pregnant with another man's child. The only thing Molly had going for her was beauty.

Too bad Jessy didn
't have anything that could compete with it. Men didn't stop in their tracks because you'd maintained a 4.0 GPA or because you graduated magna cum laude or because you finished at the top of your class in med school. They didn't give a damn about any of that. All they cared about was the way you looked. And that's where Molly Chamberlain had it all over Jessy. She didn't seem to have anything else going for her, at least nothing that Jessy knew about, but what she did have was more than enough. As far as Jessy had been able to determine, Molly had been the classic rich guy's wife with the Jeep and the fancy house and the baby on the way.

No career. No skills. Just beauty.

It was always enough. Maybe the men didn't always stay as long as you wanted them to, but they stayed for a while. Jessy couldn't even get them to notice she was alive. She wasn't ugly. Ugly could be interesting. Lots of models were downright ugly in person but turned into goddesses through the camera's loving eyes. Jessy was plain. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Nothing features. Her body was spare and straight. She could walk naked into a room, and nobody would know she was there. Not if Molly Chamberlain was anywhere in the vicinity.

#

Spencer stayed awhile after Jessy left.

"
Let me put up a pot of coffee and fix you a sandwich," Molly said "You must be hungry."

"
Just coffee, thanks," he said. "I grabbed something to eat before I drove out here." He took a seat at the card table set up near the sliding doors.

She turned to Rafe
, who was still standing in the doorway. "I don't suppose you want anything," she said. She'd already watched him eat lunch out there under the tree. It was the highlight of her day.

"
The sandwich sounds good," he said, his expression studiedly neutral.

"
To eat outside?" She didn't know why she bothered to ask. He always ate outside. That was their unspoken arrangement.

"
I wouldn't mind getting out of the sun."

The statement was innocuous enough. Indian summer had arrived
, and a full, blazing October sun beat down with mid-afternoon ferocity. She couldn't blame him for wanting to be inside, but there had been plenty of other hot sunny days. Why did he pick this one to come inside?

"
Fine," she said, turning away. "You and Spencer can talk football while I get everything ready."

Rafe didn
't sit down the way he was supposed to. Instead, he followed her into the working part of the kitchen.

"
The table's over there," she said, gesturing across the room to where Spencer sat patiently.

"
No reason you should do all the work." He was close enough that she could catch the smell of sun and warm skin. The combination made her dizzy with longing, and she took a step back.

"
I think I can handle it myself."

"
I'll get the plates." He reached into the cabinet over the sink and took down three flat white sandwich plates.

"
How did you know where I keep the plates?" she asked.

"
Lucky guess," he said and placed them down on the counter.

He
's watched me,
she thought. The idea delighted her.

"
Need some help?" Spencer called out from the other side of the room.

"
I've got everything covered, Stuart," Rafe said.

"
His name is Spencer," Molly said quietly.

Rafe grinned.
"Whatever."

Poor Spencer
, she thought as she put coffee beans into the grinder and pressed the On button. She hoped he wasn't as easily maneuvered in the courtroom as he was in the kitchen.

#

Molly had to hand it to Spencer. He gave it his best shot, but Rafe outwaited him.

"
Too bad I have a four o'clock appointment," Spencer said as he shrugged back into his suit jacket. "I would've liked to spend the afternoon with both of you."

Rafe
's face was a study in innocence. "Damn shame," he said as he poured an avalanche of sugar into his coffee cup. "Those court stories are riveting."

Molly fought down the overwhelming urge to kick him in the shins. Spencer had been nothing but gracious and friendly to Rafe. He deserved better than this low-grade sniping.

"I'll call you tonight," Spencer said to Molly as she walked him to the front door. "Why don't I drive us to the dance next week?"

"
You don't have to do that," she protested, acutely aware of Rafe's interest. "That ticket comes with no strings."

"
I want to," he said, then smiled. "No strings." He paused a moment. "Tell Jessy she's welcome to join us."

Molly wasn
't sure if she was grateful or disappointed. She wasn't looking for a date with Spencer—at least she didn't think she was. Sharing a ride with Jessy was no big deal at all.

"
Don't worry," Rafe said when Molly returned to the kitchen. "She's not his type." He leaned back in his rickety folding chair and extended his legs in front of him. She tried not to stare, but it wasn't easy. Up until that moment she hadn't realized just how much she liked long, muscular legs on a man.

She poured herself a gla
ss of decaf iced tea and leaned against the kitchen counter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"
You didn't see the way she was looking at him?" She took a sip. Jessy was right. It did taste better with sugar. "How was she looking at him?"

"
Like she wanted to jump his bones."

She choked on her tea.
"That's ridiculous!" she sputtered. "They just met."

"
What does that have to do with anything?"

What indeed
, she thought, as that familiar heat gathered low in her. belly. This was dangerous territory.

"
Let's just say I don't think. Spencer is her type."

"
Whose type is he?" Rafe asked. "Yours?"

"
Actually he reminds me a lot of my husband."

"
Your ex-husband."

"
We're not divorced yet."

"
Hook up with someone like Mackenzie, and the only thing that'll change is your last name."

"
Is that a bad thing?"

"
Depends what you're looking for."

"
Nothing," she said, meeting his eyes. "I'm not looking for anything."

"
You're sure about that?"

She placed her glass
down on the counter and pushed her hair off her face with the back of her left hand. "I think you've used up your quota of questions for the day."

His eyes held hers
, and something inside her heart shifted. She tried to will it back into place, but it wouldn't go.

"
Here." He reached into the front pocket of his denim work shirt and pulled out the dinner-dance ticket. "Nice idea, but I won't be using it."