Trusting Jack (21 page)

C
an I have a bell, in case I need you before you come

back?”

              “Don’t push your luck,” Emma warned her.

             
She scowled and flopped onto her side.  Emma shook her head. 

             
Emma was relieved she had everything on hand to make the soup.  Norah would’ve bitched about being left alone if she’d had to go out.  She was a major pain when she was sick.

             
As the chicken boiled and she chopped celery and onions, she thought about James’s revelation.

             
Did Jack love her?

             
No, she quickly decided.  If he did, he wouldn’t have cheated and lied.

             
But, her heart whispered, what if he had just been trying to spare her?

             
No, her mind objected.  If he loved her, respected her, he would’ve told her about Sarah’s visit without her having to ask.  And, she thought, he’d been so in love with Sarah that he’d forgiven betrayal after betrayal.  He’d probably always go back to her.

             
Emma’s heart broke a little more.

             
She rubbed her temples.  She was so damn tired of being the one who was betrayed.  And James.  Jack had managed to convince him he was telling the truth.  She felt a little sorry for him, but she was glad she wasn’t the only one Jack could deceive.

             
The soup was almost ready when her phone rang.  She checked the caller ID.  “Hello, James.”

             
“Hi.  How’s the patient?”

             
“Horrible.  She insists she has the flu.  She’s demanded chicken noodle soup--which I’ve made--and more than likely won’t eat when I take it to her.”

             
James chuckled.  “I feel sorry for you.”

             
“I feel sorry for myself.”

             
“And will you be having some soup, as well?  I noticed you didn’t eat much yesterday and it looks like you’ve lost weight.”

             
“I haven’t been very hungry.”

             
“You have to eat.  Otherwise, you’ll get sick and then who will take care of Norah?”

             
“God knows.  I don’t know if anyone else could put up with her.”

             
James laughed again.  “If I begged you nicely, would you come with me tomorrow and help me buy a birthday present for my sister?  I’m terrible at choosing.”

             
“I don’t mind helping, but it really depends on Norah.  I can’t leave her if she’s still feeling bad.”

             
“I understand.  I’ll check with you tomorrow.  If not then, another day.  Elizabeth’s birthday isn’t till next week.  I’ve got to run; I’ve paperwork to finish.”

             
“Sounds good.  ‘Bye.”  Emma disconnected and ladled a bowl of soup.  She added oyster crackers and a bottle of water to the tray and hoisted it up to take to Norah.

             
“I checked my temperature a second ago,” Norah informed her smugly.  “It was ninety nine point eight.”

             
“That’s all right.  It’s not really fever.”

             
“It could be pre-flu fever.”

             
Emma could feel her patience wearing thin.  “Eat your soup.  Then take more medicine,” she pointed to the bottle beside the bed, “and go to sleep.”              “You’re being hateful again.”

             
“You ain’t seen hateful yet.  Eat.”

             
“Ok, ok.  You’re not going to eat with me?”

             
“I’m not hungry; I’ll eat in a bit.  I’m going to

finish the laundry right now.”

              Norah nodded and picked up her spoon.  On her way back downstairs, Emma realized she hadn’t eaten all day.  She detoured to the kitchen; she needed to eat to keep her strength up. She fixed a small bowl of soup and ate it standing.

             
She thought about Jack while she ate.

Chapter 28

             
Norah was still in bed two days later but admitted to feeling a
little
better.  She didn’t want more chicken noodle soup, she announced, but vegetable.  Emma gritted her teeth and made vegetable soup.

             
She thought about lacing it with Vicodin—anything to keep Norah quiet for a while--but didn’t have any.

             
Emma managed to get Norah up and to the photo shoot on time, much to her relief. “See, I told you your nose wouldn’t be red.”

             
“I guess.”  Norah studied her reflection closely.  “Or not too much, anyway.”

             
Emma sighed, grateful when the photographer said it was time to start. 

             
“We’ll get some shots of you alone first, Ms. Jackson, then some with Roger.”

             
“Were the pictures from the set ok?” Emma wanted to know.

             
“They were terrific,” he enthused.  “Made me want to see more.”

             
Emma smiled, pleased the movie was gaining interest.  She sensed a blockbuster.

             
When they got home, Norah claimed exhaustion and flopped on the couch.  Emma changed into red yoga pants and an old t-shirt.  She had to do some cleaning; the dust was really beginning to bother her.

             
As she was polishing the coffee table, Norah sneezed.  “Oh, no!  I’m getting sick again!”

             
“No, you’re not.”  Emma rolled her eyes.  “It’s just the dust from the table.”

             
“I don’t know,” Norah said doubtfully.  “That

tickle—“

              “Don’t start that again,” Emma warned, pointing a finger at her.  “There is no tickle, there is no flu, there is no sick.”

             
“Fine,” she replied sulkily.  “You’re in a bad mood.”

             
Emma glowered at her as she went to answer the door.

             
“Emma Payne?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“These are for you.  Enjoy.”

             
“Thank you.”  She took the huge bouquet of pink tulips and carried them back to the coffee table.  Norah perked up when she saw them.

             
“Those are pretty!  I bet I can guess who they’re from.”

             
Emma read the card.  “’I’m sorry.  Please talk to me.  Jack.’  He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

             
“Maybe you should talk to him,” Norah suggested.  “He came by before he left.  He looked pitiful, especially when I wouldn’t let him come in.”

             
Emma shifted, stared.  “Don’t tell me you believe him, too,” she replied incredulously.  “Maybe you do have a fever.”  She reached towards Norah’s forehead.

             
Norah laughed and pushed her arm away.  “Stop that.  I’m serious.  He looked so sad.  I’m not saying I believe him.  But I am thinking about it, trying to see it from his point of view.  Emma, he told me he loves you.”

             
Emma’s heart stuttered again.  “Funny, he can

say that to everyone but me.  You didn’t see him,” she

continued.  “The shock on his face, the scramble to

come up with a story.  No,” she decided, “I don’t want to talk to him.  I don’t want to hear any more stories.”

              Norah sighed as she watched Emma stomp away.  She was damn stubborn.  Norah was just beginning to realize how much.

***

              The next afternoon, Emma stood with James in front of a jewelry display.  “Are her ears pierced?”

             
“I don’t know,” he said after a slight pause.

             
“She’s your sister,” Emma replied with a laugh.  “How can you not know if she wears earrings, or if she likes to read?”

             
“Elizabeth is hardly ever home,” James defended himself.  “At least I don’t forget her birthday.”

             
“True,” she credited him.  “We can always go the clothes route.  Do you possibly know her size?”

             
“Ummm…about like you.  Or was, before you lost weight.  It looks like you’ve dropped ten pounds.”

             
Emma ignored him as she led him into a clothing store.  Norah had commented on her weight, too.  She just didn’t have an appetite anymore.  “I think one of these cashmere sweaters will do the trick.  What’s her favorite color?”

             
“Red.  I think.  Or possibly blue.  All right, I really don’t know,” he admitted with a charming smile.

             
She shook her head.  “Sad.  We’ll go with this one.”  She held up a sweater with a tissue thin layer of white over a second layer of ecru.  “She can wear it anywhere.  And have the store gift wrap it.”

             
“I’m forever in your debt,” James told her as

they walked down the sidewalk.  “Elizabeth can be hard

to please.  I never have any luck on my own.”

             
“Who normally helps you?”

             
“Oh, whoever the girl of the month is, usually.”

             
“Speaking of, how’s Anna?”  The wind blew harder and Emma shivered inside her coat.  James pulled her close and she leaned into his warmth as they walked down the sidewalk.

             
“I wouldn’t know,” he said.  “Yesterday was the beginning of a new month.”  His laugh rolled out when Emma slanted her eyes at him and jabbed his side with her elbow. 

             
“You’re hopeless.”

             
“Most likely,” he agreed good naturedly.  “Honestly, though, she became too clingy.  Always wanting to be together, making noises about moving in with me.  Gave me an itch between me shoulder blades.”

             
Emma laughed.  “Serves you right.  Someday, some woman is gonna close the steel trap around your leg.”

             
James shuddered.  “God forbid.  Look here, coffee and roasted chestnuts.  Care for some?” he asked as they stopped in front of a street vendor.             

             
“Coffee would be great.”

             
“I’ll not buy you coffee unless you eat some chestnuts, too.”

             
Emma rolled her eyes.  “You drive a hard bargain.  Thank you,” she told him as he handed her a bag and a cup.  “I’m really not hungry,” she said as she nibbled on a nut.

             
“Lovely Emma, you need to eat.  You haven’t

since you and Jack fought.  It’s not good for you.” 

They settled on a bench.  “Doesn’t look like you’ve

been sleeping much, either.  You’ve bags under those

pretty eyes of yours, darling.”

             
“Gee, you know how to make a girl feel good,” Emma muttered.

             
“Just stating fact.”  He popped a nut into his mouth.  “Jack says you still haven’t called him.”

             
She stiffened.  “I don’t intend to.”

             
James sighed.  “I wish you’d just—“

             
“Well, fancy meeting you here,” a voice behind them said.  They turned and Emma groaned inwardly.  Marcus stood, grinning widely, arms loaded with bags.  “I’ve just had my second call back,” he told them.  “I’m certain the part is mine.  I’m doing some celebratory shopping.”

             
“How nice,” James replied shortly.