his hands and placed them there too.
“Ben, I do want to be here with you, very much. I was having—am having—such a wonderful time. Earlier at dinner, what I shared about my family, my past, I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy, or a negative and bitter person. Bit self-conscious about that at the moment,” she explained with a passing laugh, "my best friend used those words on me recently. Anyway, I really am fun. I’m very happy with my life, my job, my children.
“It’s just that I was hurt, very badly. Betrayed by the kids’ father, my ex-husband. And although I hate, hate , bringing it up on a first date, I just wanted you to know where I’m coming from. Where I stand. And why I’m . . .”
“Jumpy? Defensive? Scared?”
“Cautious,” she deadpanned.
He smiled, brought a hand to her cheek and rubbed with his thumb. “We’ve all been there at one time or another, right? You’ll come around."
“Hmm.” That small sound held some of the sadness she felt, some of the longing that she were different. “I'm not so good at coming around. As I proved.” She shifted her eyes from his, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear even as the breeze whipped it free again. “The couple, the one that walked by, she gave me this look, this thing between women that says we were the same, both happy, both,” she almost said loved, caught herself, shrugged, “ with someone. It threw me for a loop. Rattled me. I have a long way to go, Ben."
“I’d say it’s good that all either of us have is time then, wouldn’t you?”
She stared at him, smiled. “I would. I would indeed.”
So saying, she threw caution, and with it her own guarded heart, to the autumn wind and leaning forward, took his face in her hands and kissed him hard and sure.
When she pulled back, saw the heat in his eyes, she swelled with confidence and pride, couldn’t help but grin with it.
Moving his fingers over his lips, he watched her. “You do that much longer, I’ll need a dip in that river.”
“Well, c’mon then.” She rose quickly, wiggled her fingers at him.
He eyed her, curious.
“What, too chicken to put your toes in?” she grinned behind her as she slipped off her shoes, pranced in the cool grass to the water’s edge.
On a huff and mumbled, “Not likely,” he sprang from the bench to follow.
EIGHT
As Ben steered the truck back onto the interstate, Jenna watched the city lights fade in the background. The soaring AT&T tower, its spearing points on either side of the building racing to the sky, was the last to vanish into the night.
She chuckled to herself, remembering the time Dawson woke in the backseat of the car at an overlook of downtown, saw the large spires of the colloquially known Batman Building, and asked sleepily if they were in Gotham City.
She shared the memory with Ben, had him laughing strong and deep.
In fact, he’d laughed or was charmed by most of her Dawson tales as they’d sat by the water tonight, exchanging stories of their backgrounds and lives, families and relationships.
Surprising her, and pulling her even further out of that quicksand of hesitation and doubt, he’d shown genuine interest in Jacy’s ballet, Dawson’s rambunctious sagas. He'd been amused, asked questions, and shared his own childhood.
He’d reminisced about his and Joseph’s youth. Living like typical boys, they climbed trees, broke lamps, bones, scraped knees, and told little white lies about who did what to whom.
Just as she could tell Ben loved Heidi fiercely, loyally, she knew the same was true for Joseph. Jenna also knew if it was difficult for her to understand just where Joseph was and what he was doing, it had to be distressing for Ben. And Heidi, too.
She figured there was far more to that situation than she knew. But she didn’t, and wouldn’t, prod for more information. If and when Ben wanted to tell her more and let her in, he would.
“What
“Ben, I do want to be here with you, very much. I was having—am having—such a wonderful time. Earlier at dinner, what I shared about my family, my past, I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy, or a negative and bitter person. Bit self-conscious about that at the moment,” she explained with a passing laugh, "my best friend used those words on me recently. Anyway, I really am fun. I’m very happy with my life, my job, my children.
“It’s just that I was hurt, very badly. Betrayed by the kids’ father, my ex-husband. And although I hate, hate , bringing it up on a first date, I just wanted you to know where I’m coming from. Where I stand. And why I’m . . .”
“Jumpy? Defensive? Scared?”
“Cautious,” she deadpanned.
He smiled, brought a hand to her cheek and rubbed with his thumb. “We’ve all been there at one time or another, right? You’ll come around."
“Hmm.” That small sound held some of the sadness she felt, some of the longing that she were different. “I'm not so good at coming around. As I proved.” She shifted her eyes from his, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear even as the breeze whipped it free again. “The couple, the one that walked by, she gave me this look, this thing between women that says we were the same, both happy, both,” she almost said loved, caught herself, shrugged, “ with someone. It threw me for a loop. Rattled me. I have a long way to go, Ben."
“I’d say it’s good that all either of us have is time then, wouldn’t you?”
She stared at him, smiled. “I would. I would indeed.”
So saying, she threw caution, and with it her own guarded heart, to the autumn wind and leaning forward, took his face in her hands and kissed him hard and sure.
When she pulled back, saw the heat in his eyes, she swelled with confidence and pride, couldn’t help but grin with it.
Moving his fingers over his lips, he watched her. “You do that much longer, I’ll need a dip in that river.”
“Well, c’mon then.” She rose quickly, wiggled her fingers at him.
He eyed her, curious.
“What, too chicken to put your toes in?” she grinned behind her as she slipped off her shoes, pranced in the cool grass to the water’s edge.
On a huff and mumbled, “Not likely,” he sprang from the bench to follow.
EIGHT
As Ben steered the truck back onto the interstate, Jenna watched the city lights fade in the background. The soaring AT&T tower, its spearing points on either side of the building racing to the sky, was the last to vanish into the night.
She chuckled to herself, remembering the time Dawson woke in the backseat of the car at an overlook of downtown, saw the large spires of the colloquially known Batman Building, and asked sleepily if they were in Gotham City.
She shared the memory with Ben, had him laughing strong and deep.
In fact, he’d laughed or was charmed by most of her Dawson tales as they’d sat by the water tonight, exchanging stories of their backgrounds and lives, families and relationships.
Surprising her, and pulling her even further out of that quicksand of hesitation and doubt, he’d shown genuine interest in Jacy’s ballet, Dawson’s rambunctious sagas. He'd been amused, asked questions, and shared his own childhood.
He’d reminisced about his and Joseph’s youth. Living like typical boys, they climbed trees, broke lamps, bones, scraped knees, and told little white lies about who did what to whom.
Just as she could tell Ben loved Heidi fiercely, loyally, she knew the same was true for Joseph. Jenna also knew if it was difficult for her to understand just where Joseph was and what he was doing, it had to be distressing for Ben. And Heidi, too.
She figured there was far more to that situation than she knew. But she didn’t, and wouldn’t, prod for more information. If and when Ben wanted to tell her more and let her in, he would.
“What
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