No ratings.
Finishing Touches and Final Strokes in one edition. |
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 theyâd been transplanted to her apartment. Alan had said not to water too often during the winter; it was their dormant period. But she didnât 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 couldnât 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 hadnât 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 wasnât stuck on the road somewhere, but he had to work tomorrow â 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 Trevorâs privacy and likely make Nate wonder if she didnât 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 âlandscapingâ 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 wasnât 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 didnât 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. Trevorâs look was asking her why. And she didnât have a clue. Instead, she cut Alan off, saying that Trevor was home and sheâd 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. âYou didnât have to get off the phone.â 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. âOh, I just called to ask about watering the trees. Iâm sure he had other things to do than to entertain me.â âAlan?â She nodded. âYouâre early tonight ⌠well, earlier. Not as busy?â âYeah, but I was tired. Shouldnât have stayed so long last night.â He pulled the coffee out and sipped it. âAnything interesting going on in Peoria?â âNah, other than watering, we talked about our jobs. Are you hungry? I can heat some of the casserole we had.â He shook his head. âNateâs wife brought food in.â Trevor took another careful sip. âShe asked about you. About if we had a date yet.â âA date for what?â His look said she shouldnât have had to ask. âNothing.â He began walking away, taking the coffee back toward their room. âIâm going to bed before I crash.â Jenna stood, watching him. A date â a wedding date. She sighed. Why couldnât 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 couldnât 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 couldnât, not knowing his back would be turned. Pushing an irrational thought of irritation at Keisha, Nateâs wife, out of her mind â she knew it was irrational, Jenna liked Keisha and knew she meant well â 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. âYouâre not tired?â He ran a hand through his hair. âYeah, I justâŚ.â Jenna closed the book, pulling her eyes away from him. âI wasnât sure Iâd be able to sleep, anyway.â He moved in and sat next to her. âI came home to be with you, Jen. Keisha fussed at me when she found out how much Iâd been there this week. Then she fussed at Nate for allowing it.â âSo you came home because she said you should?â âThatâs not what I meant.â âIsnât it? I mean, if youâd wanted to come home, you wouldnât have had to be told. Why does everyone elseâs opinions matter more than your own, Trevor?â âThey donât.â âYes, they do. Just like every time anyone asks us about marriage â you get upset. Otherwise, weâre just fine. Why do you let them do that to you? To us?â âJennaâŚâ âI donât push you about coming home. Itâs your choice.â âSo you donât care if I do or not?â She sighed, laying the book on the table and grabbing her tea to take a swallow. âTrevor, I wonât push you into doing something you donât want. Anymore than I want to be pushed into something I donât want. Itâs no oneâs place to do that, to tell us what we should be doing.â âShit, Jenna, does everything have to be about that?â He stood, crossing the living area, turning to look back at her. âDoes it always have to be about politics, about rebellion?â âItâs not about rebellion.â âThe hell it isnât. Everything you do is always just a fight against your parents. Shit, let it go already.â Jenna stared, not comprehending how he could say that to her. Why was he bringing her parents into this? She hadnât. It wasnât about them. âWhat are you talking about?â He sighed, shook his head, and moved closer again, sitting facing her. âJen, let it go. You proved your point. Youâve gone against what they wanted for you. But youâre still allowing them to control you, and itâs hurting you.â He touched her hair. âLet it go.â âThatâs not true. How can you say that when Iâm doing what I want to do?â âAre you?â He shook his head. âThen why havenât you gone back to school? I know you want to. But you donât because itâs what they want.â âThatâs not true. Weâre tight enough as it is. Iâd have to give up my job, or at least drop some hoursâŚâ âWeâre not that tight, Jen.â âWe would be if I spent money going to school instead of working.â âUse the money Daniel left you. What else is it doing?â âNo.â âWhy not?â She shook her head. She couldnât use that. It was her safety net. âBecause you donât trust me to be able to take care of our future? At least until youâre done with school and get going yourself?â âIâm not going to do that to you. I didnât ask you to move in to take care of me, you know. I can take care of myself.â Trevor lowered his head. âAnd see, I want us to depend on each other, to take care of each other.â He looked up again. âWhy does that scare you so much?â âBecause I know better. I know it doesnât always work that way and I wonât be in that position again.â âSo youâd rather keep counting on Danielâs support than on mine.â âNo.â âOr on Alanâs.â âWhat?â (add movement here - change rooms and add thoughts before continuing conversation) He stood again, walking away, not turning back. âWhy did you let Alan talk you into going into your parents party when I couldnât?â Jenna paused, wondering at the question. âYou got me to go.â âAnd you wouldnât get out of the car until Alan talked to you. Why?â âTrevor ⌠why are you bringing him into this? He has nothing to do with anything.â âI thought that for a long time, Jen, but Iâm not sure anymore.â Not sure? What was he not sure about? Jenna rose, going across the room to stand in front of him. âTrevor, what is this?â âDo you actually not have feelings for him? Or do you just tell yourself you donât because your parents want it? If they had been opposed to himâŚ?â Jenna felt her chin drop, but she couldnât 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 heâd 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. âHow long have you felt like this? How long have you been wondering about ⌠about my loyalty to you?â âIâm not saying youâre not loyal or anything. Iâm not accusing. I just want to know.â âTrevorâŚ.â She stopped, turning away, fighting tears she couldnât allow. âYou stopped talking to him when I came home. Why?â Jenna refused to answer. Her answer didnât matter. He thought she was hiding her feelings toward another guy. âJen, Iâve been trying not to ask, but ⌠it wonât get out of my head. I have to know.â âI thought you knew me better than that.â She shook her head, not looking at him, not able to look at him. âAfter three yearsâŚ. If you donâtâŚ.â A deep breath forced courage. âHow can you even want to marry me when you donât know me better? When you donât trust how I tell you I feel?â He tried to touch her arm. She pulled away. âIâm wrong, then?â Jenna met his eyes. âI would have told you. I tell you everything.â His face tightened, contracting the muscles. He was sorry, she could tell, but it didnât change anything. She was right to refuse marriage. They werenât⌠He moved in again, refusing to allow her to pull away, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her neck. âIâm just looking for answers. SomethingâŚ. There has to be something pulling you away from me.â 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 wasnât about to give up on this. âNothing is pulling me away from you. You just have to decide to believe that.â She raised her head to see his face. âThere is no one else that I want. Just you. And youâll just have to decide to believe that.â He kissed her, passionately, longingly. âJenâŚ.â He brushed fingers through her hair. âCome to bed with me.â |