a passionate woman with iron-clad will and an icy exterior. I’d never chipped through the façade to discover the woman beneath.
“Well, are you coming in or not? And stop staring. You look like you’re measuring me for a coffin.”
Did everyone know what I was thinking?
Pulling the chair away from the wall to make room for my long legs, I used the diversion to consider what I wanted to say. Strangely enough, the urge to say thank you settled on my shoulders, an unusual burden for me when it came to dealing with that woman .
“Shut the door.” Watery grey eyes hardened slightly. “There are things to say and we do not need an audience, wouldn’t you agree?”
Doing as she requested, knowing she’d once more taken the offensive position and put me categorically back on my heels, set me squarely back in the safe zone. The doormat Jessamine zone.
What would Coach Jack Ryan do? What would the man say to me if he knew…?
“Jessamine?”
She said my name … kindly. With concern.
The least I could do was inquire as to her health, make small talk, and avoid what was coming at all costs. So I did. For a microsecond.
“I want you to stop, dearest.”
Dearest?
“Stop talking, stop thinking. And just listen.”
She had my full undivided attention.
“I am not about to apologize for my actions. Not before. Not after.”
Ah, yes, good old Tonia. Back in fine form. What more did I exp—
“I said, be quiet. Please.”
She patted my hand. How it got onto the bed, close enough for her to reach it was a conundrum for another day.
“He is my son. And I will do what is necessary to protect him.” She glared at my tell me something I don’t already know face but went on. “However, I also cannot condone his behavior. It was immature and…”
She sucked air and something off to our left beeped and chittered. One heartbeat, two… It settled back down to a pleasant hum.
You may redirect, counselor.
With the cloak of epiphany guiding my thoughts, I said, “It wasn’t the first time, was it?”
She sighed. “I thought you knew. I assumed you were aware of Robert’s … indiscretions and chose to remain silent for the sake of our Loretta.”
Great. Because I was a clueless idiot, the woman was going to despise me for not knowing and not measuring up as a paragon of suffering virtue for the sake of God, family and the precious McMahon good name.
She withdrew into herself briefly, developing some internal calculus as I twitched in my seat, ill at ease at the prospect of going to the woodshed in a wholly creative way.
Lacking the joint weapons of checkbook and ball point pen, Tonia still had psychological thumbscrews to apply. For the last twenty-two plus years, they’d worked every time.
At least they had … until Jack.
Seventy-eight tomorrow.
Resigned to the same old litany, I hunkered down for the gospel according to Tonia. The woman was dying. If sending me through one more gate along the path of diminishing self-esteem eased her journey, who was I to say otherwise?
“For your information, Jes, I do not plan to die. Not today.”
Damn.
Other than pulling plugs, I had no Plan B.
Tonia grinned. Yes, a movement that bared even white teeth, meticulously capped and maintained by a fleet of dental experts. Anomalously white against parchment skin. Skin that crinkled with age.
Tonia did not do botox. A bit of honesty in a dishonest universe.
“I’m getting tired so let me cut to the chase.” Unsaid was I’ll use small words so even you can understand. “You will return to campus with Loretta. She must not be distracted from her studies.”
“Tonia, no. I can’t. You don’t understand…”
“This is not a discussion, girl. Listen carefully. Here is what will happen. Robert will not contest the divorce but…”
Uh-oh, here it comes.
“…you will agree to certain concessions. The election is on November 4 th . Until that time, you will assist Robert in executing his campaign. You
“Well, are you coming in or not? And stop staring. You look like you’re measuring me for a coffin.”
Did everyone know what I was thinking?
Pulling the chair away from the wall to make room for my long legs, I used the diversion to consider what I wanted to say. Strangely enough, the urge to say thank you settled on my shoulders, an unusual burden for me when it came to dealing with that woman .
“Shut the door.” Watery grey eyes hardened slightly. “There are things to say and we do not need an audience, wouldn’t you agree?”
Doing as she requested, knowing she’d once more taken the offensive position and put me categorically back on my heels, set me squarely back in the safe zone. The doormat Jessamine zone.
What would Coach Jack Ryan do? What would the man say to me if he knew…?
“Jessamine?”
She said my name … kindly. With concern.
The least I could do was inquire as to her health, make small talk, and avoid what was coming at all costs. So I did. For a microsecond.
“I want you to stop, dearest.”
Dearest?
“Stop talking, stop thinking. And just listen.”
She had my full undivided attention.
“I am not about to apologize for my actions. Not before. Not after.”
Ah, yes, good old Tonia. Back in fine form. What more did I exp—
“I said, be quiet. Please.”
She patted my hand. How it got onto the bed, close enough for her to reach it was a conundrum for another day.
“He is my son. And I will do what is necessary to protect him.” She glared at my tell me something I don’t already know face but went on. “However, I also cannot condone his behavior. It was immature and…”
She sucked air and something off to our left beeped and chittered. One heartbeat, two… It settled back down to a pleasant hum.
You may redirect, counselor.
With the cloak of epiphany guiding my thoughts, I said, “It wasn’t the first time, was it?”
She sighed. “I thought you knew. I assumed you were aware of Robert’s … indiscretions and chose to remain silent for the sake of our Loretta.”
Great. Because I was a clueless idiot, the woman was going to despise me for not knowing and not measuring up as a paragon of suffering virtue for the sake of God, family and the precious McMahon good name.
She withdrew into herself briefly, developing some internal calculus as I twitched in my seat, ill at ease at the prospect of going to the woodshed in a wholly creative way.
Lacking the joint weapons of checkbook and ball point pen, Tonia still had psychological thumbscrews to apply. For the last twenty-two plus years, they’d worked every time.
At least they had … until Jack.
Seventy-eight tomorrow.
Resigned to the same old litany, I hunkered down for the gospel according to Tonia. The woman was dying. If sending me through one more gate along the path of diminishing self-esteem eased her journey, who was I to say otherwise?
“For your information, Jes, I do not plan to die. Not today.”
Damn.
Other than pulling plugs, I had no Plan B.
Tonia grinned. Yes, a movement that bared even white teeth, meticulously capped and maintained by a fleet of dental experts. Anomalously white against parchment skin. Skin that crinkled with age.
Tonia did not do botox. A bit of honesty in a dishonest universe.
“I’m getting tired so let me cut to the chase.” Unsaid was I’ll use small words so even you can understand. “You will return to campus with Loretta. She must not be distracted from her studies.”
“Tonia, no. I can’t. You don’t understand…”
“This is not a discussion, girl. Listen carefully. Here is what will happen. Robert will not contest the divorce but…”
Uh-oh, here it comes.
“…you will agree to certain concessions. The election is on November 4 th . Until that time, you will assist Robert in executing his campaign. You
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