As Adele remembered too well, her parents didn’t exactly respond that way when she came home from college pregnant, refusing to name the father. Her own father reacted like he’d been shot in the gut, and her mother cried and cried, wondering what miscreant had knocked up her pure and precious daughter.
When her baby boy had been born dead, Adele’s father pronounced that now she could start over while her mother had called it a blessing. It was only Justine who had offered true and genuine support. “Having children of my own, I can’t imagine what you must be going through. Anything I can do, Addie. Anything. Just tell me what you need.”
That was probably the closest Adele and Justine had ever been. It was brief, bittersweet but meaningful. There would always be at least that bond.
“I think tomorrow night we should go to a movie,” Jake said. “We haven’t done that in years.”
“Not years,” she argued. “Maybe almost one.”
“Let’s get out,” he said. “Not that I don’t like our dinners in, but how about a movie. I’ll sit and quietly eat popcorn while you ogle Bradley Cooper.”
“You know the first time you rescued me I was about four years old.”
“More like ten,” he corrected. “Headfirst into the pool and you sank like a rock.” Jake had been a lifeguard at the community pool. He was eight years her senior and like a big brother to her. After that incident he taught her to swim. Now she could swim like a competitor when she got the chance. They had almost a lifetime of history. Their families lived a block apart in an older residential section of Half Moon Bay, California. Mr. Bronski used to walk to his market every day, Mrs. Bronski often visited with Addie’s mother and they both volunteered at the schools. Beverly Bronski remained Elaine Descaro’s most frequent visitor until her death.
They’d remained close through so many monumental events. Thirteen years ago, Jake had married Mary Ellen Rathgate and within two years she’d left him for another man, breaking his heart. Ten years ago Max Bronski died of a heart attack. Eight years ago, Addie’s father broke his back on the job and was disabled for the remainder of his life. He had barely left the bonds of earth when Addie’s mother suffered her severe stroke. Since neither was close to their siblings, Jake and Addie had only each other to lean on for a long time now.
They cleaned up the dishes together and even though Adele had a dishwasher, Jake washed and she dried. They talked about the neighborhood, the people they knew in common, their families. Adele said Justine worked all the time. Jake’s younger brother, Marty, didn’t have the same history with the market that Jake had and only worked there when he was between jobs. “I think it’s high time he grew up,” Jake said, not for the first time.
When Jake was leaving, he told her to plan on a seven o’clock movie the next night. Dinner might be popcorn, and if they were still hungry afterward, they could get a bite to eat. He put a big hand on her shoulder, gave it a squeeze and said, “It was nice to spend some time with you, Addie.”
“It was. Thank you, Jake. See you tomorrow.”
He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead before leaving.
* * *
Jake had had a thing for Adele for years, but it seemed the timing was never right. When he first saw her as something more just a kid, when she was blossoming before his very eyes, she was still a teenager and he was a man in his early twenties. Then she went to college, and he fell in love with Mary Ellen and married her in short order. By the time Mary Ellen had dumped him, leaving him shattered and lonely, Addie was involved with someone at Berkeley so he put her from his mind.
But every time she was home in Half Moon Bay for holidays or just to spend a weekend with her parents, she became bigger than life and he was aware of a bothersome desire. Yet, she was involved with someone. Then he heard through her mother that her romance had failed, so he lectured himself on patience and gentlemanly distance.
When she enrolled in graduate studies, he was blown away by her brilliance. He loved talking with her when she was in Half Moon Bay because she was fascinating; he believed she knew a little bit about everything. He could sit in a mesmerized trance just listening to her talk for as long as she’d go on.
Then she confessed she was involved with someone. She didn’t want to say too much about the new relationship. “But are you in love?” he asked her.
“Oh, I’m just a goner,” she said. “But I’m playing it as cool as I can so I don’t scare him away. This time I plan to take my time, not like the last time when I dove in headfirst and almost drowned.”
He couldn’t help but think about how he’d been with Mary Ellen. She had been so beautiful, so sexy, it took him about five minutes to want her desperately, and once he claimed the prize, he found there was very little substance there. Mary Ellen, God bless her, was shallow as a bird bath. She cheated on him almost immediately.
He gave Addie a lot of credit for taking it slow.
Then she returned home. Not for a visit, but to stay. She said it was because her father was injured and facing surgeries, but Jake had known Addie for a long time and he could tell there was more to the story. Then he watched her grow before his very eyes and knew what the something more was. She was pregnant. And she did not have the love and support of the baby’s father. She was alone.
Jake made sure he checked on her often, at least a few times a week. If the moment presented itself, he just might tell her that he was willing to be that man. He had come to realize how much he wanted to be with her. But he never found the appropriate time.
There was once a moment of affection that he thought might lead to intimacy. They had a conversation about everything she’d been through losing her baby, and it was intense.
It filled Jake with joy that she felt comfortable confiding in him until she started sobbing. Jake did the only thing he knew to do—he comforted her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead before he found his lips on hers. They kissed, clumsily, and then she’d pulled away. She’d been through so much and apparently was ill prepared to deal with anything more.
He had been waiting five years for her to decide she had a little more to give. And he gave as much as he dared.
She wasn’t the only one with fragile feelings.
* * *
A nice dinner with Jake the previous night and an invitation out for the evening had put Adele in a more positive frame of mind. But who better than her older sister to knock her off that perch. Justine called to say she was coming by because there was something she needed to talk to Adele about. It was Saturday, and she wasn’t going to her office.
Justine was Adele’s opposite, in appearance and almost everything else. She was a tall, slim blonde while Adele was a shorter, rounder brunette. They used to joke that they weren’t from the same family. But Justine’s hair was colored and she wore blue contact lenses, making her look more Scandanavian than Italian. And she was chic, but then Justine lived in a professional, high-income world and was expected to be chic. Adele, on the other hand, always thought she’d be a natural as an English professor, one who wore oversize sweaters and flat black shoes. And she usually pulled her hair back in a clip or pinned it in a boring bun.
They had very little in common, yet another reason they weren’t close.
When Justine arrived, Adele eyed her stylish haircut. “How much does that supershort blond coif cost?” Adele asked. “Because I’ve been thinking about making a change...”
“It’s pretty expensive, actually,” Justine said, giving Adele a brief hug. “I’m thinking of letting it grow out... Scott isn’t crazy about short hair.”
“So what if he isn’t? It’s your head, right? And I think it’s wonderful. Would you like coffee?”
“I suppose it’s too early for wine,” Justine said. “How are you getting along since the funeral? Are things beginning to fall into place?”
“I suppose,” Adele lied. “Not nearly as quickly or neatly as I hoped. All those things I’d been looking forward to, like having the time and energy to lose some weight and get in shape, or maybe at least look at a university program catalog, go back to my studies... Day after day goes by and I haven’t done anything. I suppose I’m a little depressed.”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” Justine said dourly. “Listen, I have to tell you some things. It’s difficult.”
Adele didn’t like the sound of that, yet she couldn’t imagine what might be coming. Justine lived a charmed life. “Where do you want to sit to have this difficult conversation?” she asked.
Before she even finished the sentence, Justine had taken herself to the living room and sat on the edge of a wingback chair. That sight alone, her tall, lithe and lovely sister perched, stiff and tense, in the old chair, emphasized to Adele that she hadn’t even started her redecorating-remodeling project. Justine’s house, though she was terribly busy, was breathtakingly decorated and picture-perfect. This old house was not only dated, it was threadbare. And her usually poised sister was very uptight.
“Let me cut right to it. Something has happened,” Justine said. “There have been some changes in the company. My company. Serious downsizing and outsourcing. My job hasn’t been eliminated yet, but there’s no question there’s going to be a major change. One that will involve an income adjustment.”
“Oh no! Why is this happening?” Adele asked.
“A lot of complicated reasons that all boil down to profits and losses. We’ve merged with other software manufacturers twice, laid off employees and tacked a not very subtle For Sale sign on the door. They’re paring down corporate officers to combine them since the latest merger. When two companies become one, there’s no point in two VPs of Operation, two presidents, two general counsels. I’ve already been asked if I’m interested in taking over Human Resources since I have experience in dealing with many of their legal issues. I’m thinking about it, but it comes at a significant pay cut. It has forced me to think about other things.”