He was disappointed, though, that the kids weren’t there, a vague feeling that what they were doing was probably more interesting, riper with opportunity, out there in the experimental shallows of life. And, in truth, it was just Jem that he missed, an almost teenage petulance on his part that she preferred to be elsewhere, that perhaps the friendship they’d struck up that day counted even less for her than he’d thought.
It made sense that it should be like that anyway. Because as much common ground as there had seemed between them, he wasn’t a teenager and she was still unformed, browsing through life. It was strange, though, that he felt more of an impostor among Susan’s friends than he had sitting on Jem’s bed with her, looking at photos of her parents, talking like equals.
Jack put his head around the door later to say he was back and was called in then to face a barrage of compliments; he backed off again as quickly as possible. Soon after, JJ made his own excuses and left, realizing Holden would most likely be back the next day, wanting to have had a good night’s sleep in case it was bad news. Even good news would mean that he could move on, just as he was almost taking to being there, finding reasons to stay, getting used to the routine.
He was even becoming a part of the routine. Kathryn introduced some of the new guests at breakfast the next morning like he was an old-timer. JJ took his tea and papers alone in the lounge afterward, missing the presence of Lenny and Dee with their inane dissection of the world’s news. Even the sky was overcast as if in response to their absence.
He’d been there only twenty minutes though when Jem came in. “Hey,” she said, and then, “mind if I join you?”
“Of course not. Would you like tea? I can get another cup.”
“No, don’t, I’ll go.” She walked through to the dining room and came back a moment later with a cup and saucer, saying as she poured her tea, “Jack and Mom have gone to church. I wasn’t up in time.”
“Do you go every week?”
“No, but I like to go.” She thought about it for a second and added, “I like that I can just, kind of, think of nothing, you know? I like that.” JJ nodded his understanding and then, changing the subject she said, “How long are you staying here?”
“I don’t know,” he said, the various possibilities of what would happen next already played out in his mind. “Tomorrow, maybe the day after.”
She looked disappointed, in her eyes, her mouth, in every muscle of her face, a faintly visible contraction of disappointment. “Will you come back?” she asked.
“I think so.” She smiled in response, open and unguarded, eliciting a smile from him too. “You know, when I arrived the other day, I wasn’t at all sure about this place, the other guests, the village. But it’s grown on me, and it’s hard to believe how comfortable I’ve felt with all of you. And all because I know Tom.”
“That wouldn’t have counted for much if we hadn’t liked you.” He acknowledged the point and she asked, “So like, when do you think you’ll be back?” He’d said yes to his earlier question, but now she was asking for specifics, forcing him to consider how likely it was that he really would come back. It seemed doubtful somehow but he wanted to imagine some future return, wanted to imagine seeing her. He didn’t want to disappoint her either, have her think that she’d opened up the previous day to someone who really was a stranger, someone she’d never see again. So he said, “Every time I’m in New York,” inventing an imaginary work schedule that brought him over regularly, saying then, “possibly the end of next month. I tend to be here every couple of months anyway.”
She nodded, but her concentration seemed to get caught by something else, like there was a producer screaming instructions into her earpiece, and then without warning she asked, as if it had been troubling her, “Were you in love with her? The girl you broke up with?” She responded quickly to his expression, adding, “I’m sorry, that’s really rude of me.”
He smiled, brushing it off as he said, “No, it was the sudden change of subject that threw me, not the question.”
“Oh,” she said and laughed then, realizing what she’d done. He laughed too, intrigued though that it had been on her mind, and a few seconds later he said, “To answer your question, no, I wasn’t. We liked each other a lot, but we weren’t in love.”
“Have you ever? I don’t think you said.”
“Been in love?” She nodded. “Oh yeah, a long time ago though.” He thought about it but could see in her face that she wanted more, adding with an indulgent smile, “Let me see, her name was Emily, we were at college, it was good while it lasted. What more can I say?”
“What happened? I mean, why did it end?”