Chapters (29)
“Don’t tell me anything,” Desmond said. “Please. Don’t confess or apologize or blame me or tell me your plans. Just sit down and listen while I tell you how much I love you.”
3.
There was a strong, unfamiliar smell in the house, so powerful it almost brought tears to Jane’s eyes when she walked in the door. She followed it into the kitchen. Gerald was standing on his stool at the counter, pounding down a puffy lump of dough.
“Hi . . . mom.”
“Gerald,” she said. “What’s that smell?”
“Fresh bread. There’s a loaf in the oven, and this here is for a batch of pecan rolls.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she said. She went up behind him and wrapped her arms around his body as tightly as she could. “I’m so happy to see you. I missed you so much.”
“I can’t breathe,” he said.
She let him go and kissed the back of his head. “Pecan rolls are my favorite food in the world.”
“Yes, Jane, I know. That’s why I’m making them.”
It wasn’t exactly a hello kiss, a big, warm welcome, but it was his version of the same. “Where’s your father, sweetie?”
“I believe he’s up in your bedroom.”
By the time she got to the staircase, Thomas was standing on the landing, grinning benevolently. “Well, well,” he said. “You made it. What an adventure!”
“It was that,” she said. “From start to finish.”
Her pulse was racing, and despite the fact that the house was cool, she could feel sweat trickling down the sides of her body. Now or never, she told herself. Just dive right in. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the newel post to steady herself. “I don’t know why anyone would want to live in a climate . . .” That wasn’t a promising start. It was best to try again. “Thomas. I have to talk to you.”
“I hope it’s not as serious as it sounds.”
“Remember the night Joyce had her baby? You told me you’d coached a soccer team, and I said I didn’t know? There are a couple of things you don’t know about me.”
He looked so ridiculously tall, standing up there on the landing, gazing down at her. After a moment, he said, “Are you sure I don’t know, Jody?”
“No, I’m not. But it doesn’t matter whether you know or not, I want to tell you, anyway.”
She began to feel clearer as she walked up the stairs. She’d always imagined she’d lead a tumultuous love life, full of money, passion, and painless tragedies. Oh well. Her marriage to Thomas wasn’t a passionate love story or a tragic love story. It wasn’t a great love story. But maybe, in the end, it was her love story.