“Alex. I just want you to know. There hasn’t been anyone else,” he whispered the faint words against my lips.
I had no right to feel happy, but the emotions twisted up through my chest. “Me either.”
“No?” Jess seemed relieved.
“No,” I whispered. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I pulled his warm body as tight as I could against my bare skin. Nothing would ever compare to the way it felt like to really be us. My nails dug into his shoulders with every movement. His warm breath spread across my neck with each gasp; a frenzy of lost time ending almost before it started. As the moonlight came through my bedroom window, the second time lingered more like the drip of sweet honey as I slipped into another beautiful and hazy memory of being completely consumed by Jess.
We kept going until he collapsed asleep, with me draped across his body. I heard the peaceful sound of his steady heart beating against my ear. In the morning, the guilt would eat away like acid into undeniable regret. Tonight, I pushed it away. Tonight, my dream was real. I drifted off to sleep, with my cheek against the soft patch of curls in the center of his chest, and his hand resting in a possessive embrace over my bare hip.
A buzzing pulled me from the warm cocoon. Using every ounce of energy in my body, I crawled from the twisted pile of limbs. I picked up my phone, trying to shut the screeching thing up before it woke Jess.
“Hmm.”
“Alex?”
“Umm. Hold on.”
Damn! I didn’t need Sadie’s dose of moral medication this morning. Pulling on my shirt, I slipped out the bedroom door, closing it quietly behind me. I caught one last glimpse of his sleeping face before it shut. At the kitchen table, I peered at the cell phone screen, trying to pull together something she wouldn’t detect in my voice. I put a big smile across my bruised lips. He made me feel things; physical things that would be impossible with someone else. The smile became embarrassing real. Shut it down, Alex.
“Sorry, I was still asleep.”
“Don’t you get up with the rooster or something down there in Arlis?”
“For the last time, no roosters live at Sprayberry. Why are you calling me so early anyway?”
“Sweetie, I can accomplish more before breakfast than most can in an entire day.”
“It’s six am on Thanksgiving morning.”
“Now that I am working on Senator Andrew’s campaign, I have to look awesome and be awesome at the drop of a hat. The day and time are irrelevant.”
“You are insane.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“I’m not whispering.”
“Sweetie, I know you. And that’s denial whispering.”
“I’m jet lagged. I flew in from Paris yesterday. Remember?”
“I’m not buying it. Where are you?”
“At my dad’s house.”
“And where is our favorite cowboy right now?”
“At Sprayberry.”
“One and the same. Very evasive, sweetie. So, what did the dysfunctional childhood friends do last night?”
Sadie could twist me a new one with the slightest wave of her hand, even from hundreds of miles away. I wondered how many other people’s moral conscience wore pink lipstick and had wicked hazel eyes. Even this early in the morning, I pictured her beautiful blonde hair bouncing along with each high heeled, perky step. Good grief, I hated her sometimes.
“Sadie, I don’t want to hear it, ok? It was his idea. Not mine.”
“Does it really matter who caved? Again, I might add?”
“Yes, it does.”
“Fine. Keep turning in these cataclysmic circles of destroying your friendship then putting a Band-Aid over the real issue. Two steps forward for Jess, only to have you yank that silk rug right out from under his boots when you leave for another year. Speaking of which, that’s why I called. Are you still coming to Chicago on the way back?”
The air exhaled from my lungs with a hiss between my teeth. Regret. I knew it would come in the morning. I hated that evil little creature chopping away at my memories from last night, making the guilt churn in my stomach. Thank you, Sadie. Thank you very much!
“I’m still coming. I’ll email my flight schedule.”
“I am truly sorry, sweetie. I really hate putting a damper on your Thanksgiving reunion by pointing out the obvious, but you are not doing Jess any favors. His idea or yours? Still the same outcome.”
“You’re right. Ok.”
“As always.”
I rubbed my tired eyes, feeling them move around in their sockets. A migraine loomed. “So what phony Thanksgiving dinner are you attending since you stayed in Chicago?”
“We have three stops today, including a recorded segment at a soup kitchen.”
“Are you having Andrew spoon feed a bag lady for the American people to watch?”
“Alex! Be nice. It’s a very nice gesture. Then tonight we have a formal gala with the Governor at the annual lighting of the Christmas tree. He’s endorsed Senator Andrew, you know. Game changer for us.”
“Hmmm. Congratulations. Are you taking the Harrison Waldengrave the Fourth?”
“Why must you always say it that way?”
“What else do you call someone who sounds like an English Lord?”
“Don’t be pretentious. Harrison is a normal guy. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
“I’m sure he’s a regular prince charming.” It was time to end this call before I snapped at her well-intended interference. “Look, I’m tired. No coffee yet this morning. I’ll let you go. See you in a few days.”
“Goodbye. Oh and eat a piece of turkey for me. You know I gave up antibiotic filled protein but I’m feeling a little remorse today. First Thanksgiving without roasted duck, but I guess your turkey will do.”
“And I still take advice from you. Seems a little wrong.”
“But you know I’m always right. People pay money for it now. That’s an idea. I should send you an invoice. Maybe, that would make that self-destructive head of yours listen for a change.”
“Goodbye, Sadie.”
“Bye, sweetie.”
I clasped the phone in my hand, feeling the weight of the coming conversation with Jess; less than twenty-four hours on American soil and we had already created an uncomfortable situation.
Through the kitchen window, only slivers of orange radiated out of the darkness. Morning had yet to make an appearance at Sprayberry. I could leave. I could sneak out before his dark lashes even opened. It’s what I did last time, and it saved our friendship. I could do it again; pull on some pants and leave before he woke, followed by an awkward few days of Thanksgiving then a plane ride back to Paris.
Turning the knob, I prayed the door didn’t squeak. Jess sat fully dressed on the edge of my bed with a piece of paper in his hand, reading by the bedside lamp. He looked up at me and frowned.
I froze. I froze as my heart stopped and skipped a beat. The words on that paper were more personal than any diary entry ever could be; it contained the stuffing inside my blackened soul. The pain resumed just behind my rib cage and my arms went numb.
“Where…where…” Panic made its way out in rambles. “Where…find…you’re not supposed to see that!”
“Took some searchin’ but I found it and I’ve seen it.”
“Searching? You were trying to find it? Why? Why did you go through my stuff? You had no right, Jess. No right!”
“Sadie said you were obsessed with some list you made when we were kids. I thought…”
“Obsessed!” I shouted, cutting him off. I paced, feeling more panicked as control left every cell of my body. “Well that makes me sound completely sane, doesn’t it? Glad the two of you had a little talk. When did she call? Just now? That bitch hung up after ripping me shit this morning before I was even awake. She knew I would sit there and be pissed at myself while she had the nerve to call you and make more problems, siding against me.”
“I didn’t talk to Sadie today. Don’t blame her. And nobody’s gangin’ up on you. Last night I saw you with somethin’ through the window. I put it together and I wanted to know.”