Still Waters (14 page)

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Authors: Misha Crews

BOOK: Still Waters
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She smiled slowly and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

He took her hand. “I’m glad.”

They sat in companionable silence, and then he surprised her by saying, “I guess I owe you another apology for the way things went the last time we saw each other.”

She squeezed his hand. “It’s too nice a day to hash all that up. Let’s just say all apologies are unnecessary, and move on.”

Adam took a breath. “I want to ask you an impertinent question.”

A pale gray cloud moved over the sun, and Jenna shivered. She withdrew her hand from Adam’s and crossed her arms over her chest. “All right,” she said.

“Do you ever feel guilty? You know, about us, about that night? I’m not asking if you regret it,” he added hurriedly. “I’m sure you don’t, because regardless of anything else, it gave us Christopher.”

Us
. The word was not lost on Jenna.

“What I’m asking,” Adam continued, “is if you ever feel guilt over what happened.”

When Jenna didn’t respond, he went on. “Because I just want you to know that I don’t think you should. I don’t think either of us should. We were both grieving, and overwrought, and — ”

“No,” Jenna said abruptly. “No, I’ve never felt guilty, and I’ll show you why.”

And before she knew what she was doing, she opened her purse and pulled out a picture.
The
picture. The photo of Bud, the woman, and the baby.

Adam took it slowly, searching Jenna’s face with his eyes before looking down at the photograph. His voice was quiet as he asked, “Where did you get this?”

Jenna stared at the photo in his hands, astonished at what she’d just done. She’d shown the photo to Adam. It was out now, out in the open. There was no going back.

“I found it on the morning Bud died.” She allowed herself a bitter smile as she explained how she’d discovered it in his drawer. “I was going to ask him about it when he came home, but he never did.”

He was silent for a long moment. “And you’ve kept this photo ever since?”

She fiddled with the skirt of her dress, folding the soft cotton fabric between her fingers. “I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. I’ve been carrying it in my pocketbook for five years. Every day I’ve thought about burning it, but every day I’ve found a reason not to do it.”

“Do Bill and Kitty know about this?”

Her head snapped up and she stared at him. “No, of course not. I’d die before I’d show that picture to them. I don’t ever want them to know that Bud was…unfaithful.” Her lips trembled as she spoke the last word.

“Unfaithful?” Adam looked at her as if she were crazy. “Bud was never unfaithful to you a day in his life. He loved you, more than anything or anyone. Is that what you think this means?”

“What else?” Jenna reached out and pointed to the faces on the photograph. “That’s Bud’s mistress, and that’s their baby.” She gave an ungraceful shrug, intended to show how little the idea upset her.

Adam reached out and grabbed her arm, shaking it for emphasis. “Listen to me.” He took a breath. “This is a photo of Denny’s girlfriend. And the baby? It’s
Denny’s
child.”

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN


W
HAT?”
J
ENNA SNATCHED THE PHOTO BACK
from him, looking it over with new eyes. She heard a rushing in her ears, like the sound of water coursing swiftly against dry rock.

Adam continued, “The woman’s name is Maya Sinclair. She and Denny were going to be married after he got back from Mexico. He’d wanted to marry her for over a year, but well — she’s not white, and he was afraid to tell Bill and Kitty about her. They’re good people, of course, but Denny said that you never can tell how folks will react. He didn’t even know Maya was pregnant when he went to Mexico. The baby was born six months after Denny died.”

Jenna let Adam’s words wash over her like waves in the ocean. At first she wasn’t sure that she understood what he was telling her. But then slowly, the facts began to penetrate. The woman wasn’t Bud’s mistress. Bud hadn’t been unfaithful. Denny had a child that Bill and Kitty didn’t know about.

Bill and Kitty had a grandchild — a real, actual, flesh-and-blood grandchild.

And for five years, Jenna had been blaming her husband for a sin he had never committed.

Anger seized her, cold and biting. It was anger at her own self. For doubting Bud, for accusing him in her mind, for rejecting him in her heart.

She took her rage and turned it outward, aiming at the only available target. “Adam, you knew about this? How could you not tell me?”

Adam had been watching her closely with concern, but he clearly hadn’t been expecting the reaction she gave him. He threw up his hands. “Why would I tell you? What good would it have done?”

“What good?” She couldn’t believe her ears. “For five years I’ve been thinking that my husband was cheating on me!”

“But I didn’t know that! For crying out loud, I had no idea you had this photo.”

“I had a right to know!”

“Fine. But I didn’t have a right to tell you.” He looked away, and Jenna could see his jaw muscles working. “Most of this happened after I joined the Navy. I only met Maya once, when I was home on leave. That’s when I took that picture of her and Bud.”

That made her pause. “You took this?”

“Yes.”

“And did you hold the little boy?”

“I guess I probably did.”

Jenna looked at the faces again — smiling, happy. Even the baby was grinning. A feeling had begun to grow inside her, something damp and unpleasant. She clamped down on it and concentrated on the questions she needed to ask. There were a lot of them. “Why didn’t Bud tell me about this?”

“I have no idea. If I had to guess, I’d say he didn’t want to make things more complicated for anyone.”

It sounded like the truth, but Jenna found she didn’t really care one way or the other. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from that little boy. Denny’s child, she thought with wonder. Bud’s nephew. My nephew. “What’s the baby’s name?”

“Joseph Thomas.”

Jenna mouthed the name to herself. “I have to find them,” she said abruptly.

“What? Why?”

“I have to make sure they’re all right. Bud would want me to.”

Adam shook his head. “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea, Jen.”

“Well I’m not really interested in your opinion.” Her voice was cold. “Do you know where they are?”

“I probably have the address of her mother’s house somewhere. It’s old, though, and I’m not sure if Maya would still be living there.”

“At least it’s a place to start.” Jenna looked at her watch. “It’s getting late. I’d better get Christopher home.”

Adam reached out and put a finger under her chin. Very slowly, he turned her to face him. “Are you all right?”

The tenderness in his voice made her tremble. Warmth rushed through her, bringing the hot threat of tears. Suddenly she was able to identify the emotion she had experienced when looking at the photo: loneliness.

Denny, Bud, Adam, and herself — Jenna had always thought of the four of them as a unit, a family. But they had shut her out. They had withheld that she had a nephew, that she’d almost had a sister-in-law. And apparently, none of them had thought there was anything wrong with that. Jenna swallowed. “Do you happen to remember where I was when this photo was taken?”

He dropped his hand from her face. “It was a long time ago, but I think maybe you were shopping, or something like that.”

She held the photograph up for him to see. “On the day that you were holding this baby — my nephew — in your arms, I was shopping. And you’re asking me if I’m all right?”

“I take it the answer to that question is ‘no.’” He looked at her coldly, as if he didn’t understand her at all.

Of course, how could he? She didn’t understand herself, or anything that was going on. Cracks were appearing in the crystal ball that she called her life, and it was all she could do right now to hold it together. She stood up.

“Jen, wait.” Adam jumped to his feet. “Don’t go away mad. I’m sorry. I know this has been a lot to take in, and I know you’re upset, but — ”

“But you don’t know
why
,” she said miserably, finishing his thought for him. “And I have no idea how to explain it to you.”

Jenna turned and called to Christopher that it was time to go. He trotted toward her willingly, with the tired but happy pace of a child who has had a very satisfying day.

Adam looked around wildly, as if he were searching for something, anything, which could make her stop and listen. He must have found it, because he leaned forward and spoke intently. “Jenna, do you see that fountain over there? It has three figures carved on it. Do you know what they represent?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “The Sea, the Stars, and the Wind.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“There was a time when I thought that those three things were enough to make me happy. Because you were Bud’s girl then, Jenna, and there was no way I could have you.”

“Oh, and now that Bud’s dead, you’re ready to claim what you’ve always wanted?” Her voice was thick with contempt. “And I should just forget everything that’s happened? Everything that you’ve kept from me?”

Adam stood still, frustration radiating off him. “I can only apologize so many times.”

“I told you before, I don’t want apologies,” she snapped. She lowered her voice as her son approached. “Or your declarations of love and longing.”

“Then what
do
you want?”

Jenna grabbed Christopher’s hand. She had to make a concerted effort not to grip his little fingers too tightly. “I want my family,” she said. Her eyes fell to her son, and her free hand stole to her pocketbook, where the photograph was once again safely stored. “Whatever’s left of it.”

She turned and started away.

“Bye, Uncle Adam!” Christopher called, trotting agreeably by her side.

Jenna stopped and looked back over her shoulder, at the tall man who stood alone on the path. Pain squeezed her heart, and her eyes filled with tears. “And I’ll always be Bud’s girl, Adam. Always.”

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

L
ATER,
J
ENNA REGRETTED WALKING AWAY SO
quickly. It soon occurred to her that Adam was the only person who could tell her where Maya Sinclair had lived. But after dismissing him so thoroughly at the park, she couldn’t possibly go back to him and ask for his help.

But as it turned out, she didn’t have to ask.

Jenna sat in her car and looked up at the house where Maya Sinclair had once lived. This neighborhood was an older one, probably built around the same time as Arlington Forest. It was quiet, with wide streets and tall trees. It looked as though it would be a good place for her nephew to grow up.

Adam had called her only the day before. During the time since they had seen each other, early June had begun to melt toward July, with the congenial breezy warmth of spring giving way to the sticky heat of summer. On the other end of the phone, Adam’s voice had been tight with tension. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about keeping things from you, and I can see that you’re right. You deserved to know the truth. I can’t take back the years that have passed, or the lies that you’ve been told, but I can at least give you the address where Maya was living eight years ago.”

After reciting the address, Adam had asked her not to go see Maya until he could come with her. And Jenna had agreed. But the very next day, she had gone looking for her almost-sister-in-law, without compunction.

She realized that the chances of finding Maya and Joseph still living there were slim. It had been eight years since Adam had seen them last. But the good thing about having such a small amount of information was that it left her only one place to start.

The houses on this street were small Craftsman-style bungalows, set close together, with porches on the front. Windows poked up from the sloping roofs like ears on a curious cat. The analogy made Jenna uneasy.

Curiosity had killed the cat, after all.

But satisfaction brought him back
. She could almost hear Bud whisper the words encouragingly in her ear.

Willing herself to be brave, she opened the door and got out of the car, striding up the walkway and onto the porch. Behind the screen, the front door was painted dark green, and the brass knocker shone with recent polishing.

Without allowing herself time to hesitate, Jenna opened the screen door, lifted the knocker and rapped, firmly but not too firmly. Then she stepped back and closed the screen door gently. Her heart beat in her throat as she waited to see who would answer.

A petite young black woman opened the door almost immediately. She wore a yellow cotton dress and a welcoming smile. At the sight of Jenna, however, the smile dimmed slightly, and the woman clasped her arms in front of her. It was an unconsciously defensive posture that was not lost on Jenna.

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