Distant Shores

These were dangerous waters, especially with Jamie swimming alongside. “As soon as we find suitable renters.”


“Who are you waiting for, the British Royal Family? Just rent the sucker to some poor schmuck who likes mushrooms that grow overnight and rain that hits you in the head like a hammerblow.”

“You don’t like it here?”

Jamie laughed. “Actually, I do. But it’s just a house; we’ve lived in tons of them.”

Elizabeth sighed. That was one of the by-products of her life with Jack. They hadn’t given their children a sense of roots, of home. “You’re right,” she answered.

“So, what would we do? If I remember, March is a particularly sucky month. We probably wouldn’t see the sun once.”

Elizabeth couldn’t help smiling at that. “We could rent movies and play board games.”

“ ‘Be still, my heart.’ Board games with my mother over spring break.” She laughed. “I’ll think about it, Mom. Truly. But I gotta run now. Michael is picking me up in an hour.”

“Is your sister home?”

“Sorry. This is her day for curing Alzheimer’s. I’ll have her call you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

After Elizabeth hung up, she stared down at the phone. Her first thought was: Call Jack.

He needed to know what was going on with Jamie. A heads up would make the I-want-to-quit-swimming conversation run a lot smoother.

Elizabeth had always greased the wheels of Jack’s relationship with his daughters. He … missed things sometimes, overlooked the important moments. It had been her job—or one she’d taken on, at least—to facilitate a good father-daughter bond.

Without her guidance, she was afraid he’d inadvertently hurt his daughter’s feelings.

She dialed his number.

Jack was in a meeting with Sally. “He actually threw a punch after the match was over—and broke the guy’s jaw?”

She nodded. “Every second was caught on tape. The question is this: Is it assault and battery because the match had ended? Or does assumption of the risk cover everything that happens in the ring?”

“That’s always been a question with far-reaching implications. Late hits in football, and forget about hockey. With this new interest in—”

The phone rang. He waited for his secretary to answer, then remembered that she’d gone to lunch. “Just a second.” He picked up the phone and answered, “Jackson Shore.”

“I almost hung up.” Elizabeth’s laughter sounded forced, nervous.

“Hey, Birdie,” he said after a stunned pause.

Sally’s smile faded. She glanced at the door.

“Am I catching you at a bad time?” Elizabeth asked.

Her voice sounded different, uncertain, though it didn’t surprise him. In a few short weeks, they’d become strangers. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, after twenty-four years of living together, but it was true.

The silence between them stretched out, grew uncomfortable. It was all so unexpected; she’d always been his compass, his true north; or so he’d thought. He’d imagined that without her, he’d be lost. But that hadn’t happened. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was now afraid that he’d be lost with her.

“Jack?”

“I’m here.” He didn’t know exactly what she expected him to say. Worse, he didn’t know what he wanted to say. Maybe nothing at all. He was afraid suddenly that she’d called to reconcile; now he was the one who wanted time.

Sally stood up. “I’ll leave you alone for a minute,” she whispered.

He nodded, mouthed, “Thanks.”

“Who’s that?” Birdie asked.

He felt guilty suddenly, though there was no need. He and Sally hadn’t done anything unprofessional. “It’s just my assistant. We were in a meeting.”

“Maybe I should call back …”

He wanted to say, Yes, do that, and then avoid her future call. But such a maneuver would be pointless. With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, he watched Sally leave the room, then said, “So, Birdie, what’s going on?”

“How’s your job?”

He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say (maybe, Oh, Jack, I love you, I can’t live without you) but certainly not a question about his job. “Honestly, Birdie, I love it. I feel twenty years younger.” He heard the defensiveness in his voice and tried to soften it. “I’d forgotten how it felt.”

“To be a star, you mean?”

She knew him so well. “Yes.”

“I’m proud of you, Jack. I knew you’d be good at it. That was never the issue.”

He smiled. Her opinion of him had always mattered more than anyone else’s, more even than his own. He’d never owned success completely until Elizabeth kissed him and said, You did it, baby.

What he hadn’t known until now—this second—was that even with all that had gone wrong between them, he still needed that from her. “Thanks. How about you, how are you doing?”

“I’m taking a painting class.”