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Rated: 13+ · Book · Relationship · #910017
Finishing Touches and Final Strokes in one edition.
#338970 added April 4, 2005 at 9:33am
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chapter 7

Jenna poured water in the base of her trees. They were starting to look dry already, though it had only been a few days since they’d been transplanted to her apartment. Alan had said not to water too often during the winter; it was their dormant period. But she didn’t want them to thirst to death, even while dormant. She scrunched her forehead, pausing in her work. How much was too much? Maybe she should call and ask. She couldn’t kill the things after Trevor had put so much effort into getting them for her. Where was he? It was getting late, even for his bar nights.

Setting the watering pail down, she wandered to the window. Sleet. Wonderful. She hadn’t noticed it yet.

Finding the phone, she called the bar. He was still there, so Nate said, but busy at the moment. She said not to bother him and thanked him for his help.

Then she returned to the window. It was quiet with the kids asleep. At least she knew he wasn’t stuck on the road somewhere, but he had to work tomorrow – they both did. Fifteen after eleven. Too late to call Alan to ask him about watering the trees. Giving up, Jenna decided to go to bed. There was no point in being exhausted in the morning just because Trevor chose to work too late.



Saying goodnight to the kids, Jenna returned to the living room, planting herself on the couch. Again, it was too quiet. She thought about calling Nate and asking why the bar was so busy on week nights and why it was keeping her boyfriend away. But that would be intrusive on Trevor’s privacy and likely make Nate wonder if she didn’t trust him. Of course she did. She just wanted him home.

Looking at her trees, she remembered wanting advice and picked up the phone. Cheryl answered and Jenna politely engaged in minor chit chat long enough not to be rude before asking if Alan was home. She made a point to mention wanting “landscaping” advice. Not that she thought Cheryl worried about them anymore, if she ever had, but it made Jenna feel better to have a real reason to call her friend.

The conversation went much longer than just watering advice. Jenna was glad to listen to him ramble on about work, describing his newest project, and she did her best to talk about her own job, though there wasn’t much interesting happening recently. Since he asked, though, and because she was enjoying the adult conversation, she told him more about the minor detail things than she usually talked about. He seemed interested, though she imagined he was being as polite as she had been with Cheryl. It was okay. At least he didn’t cut her off.

In the middle of answering his question about her own artwork, and the recent lack of it, the apartment door opened. Her thoughts froze mid-sentence at being startled and the few stutters in reply to Alan sounded … like she was trying not to have the conversation overheard. Trevor’s look was asking her why.

And she didn’t have a clue. Instead, she cut Alan off, saying that Trevor was home and she’d kept him on the phone long enough, anyway, while watching her boyfriend hang up his coat and kick out of his shoes. Then she hung up.

“You didn’t have to get off the phone.” Trevor walked into the kitchen area, grabbing a mug, pouring cold coffee into it, and shoving it in the microwave.

Jenna stood and moved closer. “Oh, I just called to ask about watering the trees. I’m sure he had other things to do than to entertain me.”

“Alan?”

She nodded. “You’re early tonight … well, earlier. Not as busy?”

“Yeah, but I was tired. Shouldn’t have stayed so long last night.” He pulled the coffee out and sipped it. “Anything interesting going on in Peoria?”

“Nah, other than watering, we talked about our jobs. Are you hungry? I can heat some of the casserole we had.”

He shook his head. “Nate’s wife brought food in.” Trevor took another careful sip. “She asked about you. About if we had a date yet.”

“A date for what?”

His look said she shouldn’t have had to ask. “Nothing.” He began walking away, taking the coffee back toward their room. “I’m going to bed before I crash.”

Jenna stood, watching him. A date – a wedding date. She sighed. Why couldn’t people just butt out and leave them alone? They were fine when people just left them alone. Why did he care so much what they thought? With a ragged breath, she returned to the couch. There was no point in going to bed. He would just ignore her, anyway, as he did every time the subject was approached. Why couldn’t people just leave them alone?

Getting up again, Jenna went in to make her mint tea, then returned to the couch, grabbing her book. She needed to go to bed, but couldn’t, not knowing his back would be turned. Pushing an irrational thought of irritation at Keisha, Nate’s wife, out of her mind – she knew it was irrational, Jenna liked Keisha and knew she meant well – she tried to force her thoughts on the story that allowed her escape from her own life. Not that it was bad enough to really need escape. She was lucky, she knew, for what she did have; Trevor, and her babies, a job she liked. There was no reason for her occasional glumness. But it was there all the same. Maybe it was just the winter and the short days. Just being cold too often, staying inside too often.

A noise from behind startled her and she looked back. Trevor, with rumpled hair and wearing only his boxers.

“You’re not tired?” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I just….” Jenna closed the book, pulling her eyes away from him. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep, anyway.”

He moved in and sat next to her. “I came home to be with you, Jen. Keisha fussed at me when she found out how much I’d been there this week. Then she fussed at Nate for allowing it.”

“So you came home because she said you should?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it? I mean, if you’d wanted to come home, you wouldn’t have had to be told. Why does everyone else’s opinions matter more than your own, Trevor?”

“They don’t.”

“Yes, they do. Just like every time anyone asks us about marriage – you get upset. Otherwise, we’re just fine. Why do you let them do that to you? To us?”

“Jenna…”

“I don’t push you about coming home. It’s your choice.”

“So you don’t care if I do or not?”

She sighed, laying the book on the table and grabbing her tea to take a swallow. “Trevor, I won’t push you into doing something you don’t want. Anymore than I want to be pushed into something I don’t want. It’s no one’s place to do that, to tell us what we should be doing.”

“s***, Jenna, does everything have to be about that?” He stood, crossing the living area, turning to look back at her. “Does it always have to be about politics, about rebellion?”

“It’s not about rebellion.”

“The hell it isn’t. Everything you do is always just a fight against your parents. s***, let it go already.”

Jenna stared, not comprehending how he could say that to her. Why was he bringing her parents into this? She hadn’t. It wasn’t about them. “What are you talking about?”

He sighed, shook his head, and moved closer again, sitting facing her. “Jen, let it go. You proved your point. You’ve gone against what they wanted for you. But you’re still allowing them to control you, and it’s hurting you.” He touched her hair. “Let it go.”

“That’s not true. How can you say that when I’m doing what I want to do?”

“Are you?” He shook his head. “Then why haven’t you gone back to school? I know you want to. But you don’t because it’s what they want.”

“That’s not true. We’re tight enough as it is. I’d have to give up my job, or at least drop some hours…”

“We’re not that tight, Jen.”

“We would be if I spent money going to school instead of working.”

“Use the money Daniel left you. What else is it doing?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She shook her head. She couldn’t use that. It was her safety net.

“Because you don’t trust me to be able to take care of our future? At least until you’re done with school and get going yourself?”

“I’m not going to do that to you. I didn’t ask you to move in to take care of me, you know. I can take care of myself.”

Trevor lowered his head. “And see, I want us to depend on each other, to take care of each other.” He looked up again. “Why does that scare you so much?”

“Because I know better. I know it doesn’t always work that way and I won’t be in that position again.”

“So you’d rather keep counting on Daniel’s support than on mine.”

“No.”

“Or on Alan’s.”

“What?”

(add movement here - change rooms and add thoughts before continuing conversation)

He stood again, walking away, not turning back. “Why did you let Alan talk you into going into your parents party when I couldn’t?”

Jenna paused, wondering at the question. “You got me to go.”

“And you wouldn’t get out of the car until Alan talked to you. Why?”

“Trevor … why are you bringing him into this? He has nothing to do with anything.”

“I thought that for a long time, Jen, but I’m not sure anymore.”

Not sure? What was he not sure about? Jenna rose, going across the room to stand in front of him. “Trevor, what is this?”

“Do you actually not have feelings for him? Or do you just tell yourself you don’t because your parents want it? If they had been opposed to him…?”

Jenna felt her chin drop, but she couldn’t even start to put her confusion into words. Feelings for Alan? No. Never. Nothing other than friendship. If there had been, she would have given in to him before, after losing Daniel and before Trevor, when he’d tried. Her parents sure would have objected to that, too, since Alan was married. It had nothing to do with them.

Finally, she shook her head. “How long have you felt like this? How long have you been wondering about … about my loyalty to you?”

“I’m not saying you’re not loyal or anything. I’m not accusing. I just want to know.”

“Trevor….” She stopped, turning away, fighting tears she couldn’t allow.

“You stopped talking to him when I came home. Why?”

Jenna refused to answer. Her answer didn’t matter. He thought she was hiding her feelings toward another guy.

“Jen, I’ve been trying not to ask, but … it won’t get out of my head. I have to know.”

“I thought you knew me better than that.” She shook her head, not looking at him, not able to look at him. “After three years…. If you don’t….” A deep breath forced courage. “How can you even want to marry me when you don’t know me better? When you don’t trust how I tell you I feel?”

He tried to touch her arm. She pulled away.

“I’m wrong, then?”

Jenna met his eyes. “I would have told you. I tell you everything.”

His face tightened, contracting the muscles. He was sorry, she could tell, but it didn’t change anything. She was right to refuse marriage. They weren’t…

He moved in again, refusing to allow her to pull away, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her neck. “I’m just looking for answers. Something…. There has to be something pulling you away from me.”

Giving in, Jenna laid her head against his shoulder, allowing her fingers to rub his bare skin, somehow warm even uncovered in the cool apartment. The connection drew her in. She could let it go. Somewhat, anyway. She wasn’t about to give up on this. “Nothing is pulling me away from you. You just have to decide to believe that.” She raised her head to see his face. “There is no one else that I want. Just you. And you’ll just have to decide to believe that.”

He kissed her, passionately, longingly. “Jen….” He brushed fingers through her hair. “Come to bed with me.”
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