The Touch of a Woman (27 page)

“You’re selling yourself way short. Look how you pulled yourself up after Bruce. New city, new job. You held it together when most people would have come apart.”

She finally smiled, albeit weakly. “You’re good to me. And good
for
me too.”

Though her heart hurt with longing for the tenderness they’d shared only a week ago, Summer knew she could do this. All she had to do was forget.

* * *

All in all, the visit with Summer had gone better than Ellis expected. Though for someone who’d lamented how hard it was to quit Rita, she’d had no trouble quitting this time. Instant nothing. After a whole week of being ignored, Ellis had worried she might not even open the door.

Now that they’d broken the ice, it would be easier to see her again…to work out, to share dinner. Clearly their romance was over, so there was no point in trying to reason with Allison. Summer—who’d described herself as “touchy-feely” with nearly everyone—hadn’t even held her hand.

As she drew back the covers on her bed, her phone chimed and displayed Jonathan’s photo. Only seven hours after her first urgent message asking him to call, and two hours after the one she’d amended to add, “no matter how late.”

Despite her hours of practice on what to say, she felt a dip in her confidence until she heard the echo of Summer’s words.
Because you’re strong
. The stakes were too high to be anything but.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Sorry I couldn’t call earlier, Mom. They won’t let us talk on our cell phones in the library.”

Which library would that be?
No, she wouldn’t trap him in his web of lies. He didn’t need more humiliation on top of what he already felt.

“Jonathan, I went to the City this morning to meet with the attorneys. I’m starting to see some light at the end of the tunnel.” She shared the tentative terms of the agreement, including the fact that she’d come out of it in better financial shape than expected. “Then I met Roxanne for lunch in Woodside. Since I was so close to Palo Alto, I stopped by your apartment. They told me you didn’t live there anymore.”

With practiced calm, he immediately answered, “I was going to tell you the next time we talked. I moved in with a friend of mine on the other side of—”

“It’s okay, honey. The boys said they thought you were taking some catch-up classes at San Jose State.” She concentrated in order to keep all traces of judgment out of her voice, emphasizing instead her love and compassion. “I called the dean’s office at Stanford this afternoon. They wouldn’t tell me anything specific—so I’ll need you to fill in the blanks—but they did explain what happens when a student goes on suspension. I’m sure this is a difficult time for you, and I thought you’d appreciate hearing how much I love you.”

After a long, pained silence, he sniffed loudly and his story spilled out in a stumbling voice. His academic progress at Stanford had ground to a halt after the shooting. First probation, then provisional status and finally suspension. He was eligible for reinstatement after a year, provided he could prove himself capable of completing his degree.

“What kind of progress are you making now?”

“Not as much as I’d like.” Besides carrying a slate of political science and economics classes, he was working evenings and weekends stocking shelves at a Target store. “That’s why I couldn’t call earlier…and why I couldn’t stay long at Christmas. I had to get ready for Black Monday.”

Ellis surprised herself by laughing. “That must have been horrible. I won’t go anywhere near the stores on days like that.”

“Anyway, I decided to drop two of my classes. I figured it was better to get two A’s than four C’s.”

“Tell me what you’re studying.”

It was the best conversation she’d had with Jonathan in years, and one of the few times since high school, she realized, they’d talked one on one for more than just a couple of minutes. Little by little, his voice relaxed, as though she’d lifted the weight of the world off his shoulders. Exactly as Summer had predicted.

“I guess Allison and Jeremy are going to bust my chops over this.”

“They don’t need to know, honey. We can keep this between you and me.”

“Nah, that’s okay. It’s too stressful trying to keep it secret. Go ahead and tell them.”

It was a relief to hear him reject his father’s ways. “No, you should be the one to tell them. And I want you to quit your job. Focus on your classes and rack up those A’s. We’ll find a way to cover another year of school.”

“But that’s not fair to Allison and Jeremy.”

“Jonathan, after this settlement, I won’t have much going into retirement, so someone will have to take care of me in my old age. My plan is to get you through law school. You wouldn’t let your mother live on the streets, would you?”

He laughed, the first time in ages she could recall.

“So like it or not, young man, you’ve just made a deal with the devil.”

“You got it.” His phone beeped, and he explained that his battery was dying. He seemed genuinely sad their call was ending. “I love you big, Mom.”

Her heart swelled to hear him utter the phrase from his childhood. “I love you big too. Nothing will ever change that. And I want you to come see me as soon as you can. I miss you.”

Summer was right about how she’d feel—that she’d pulled her son back from the brink. The next time he came to see her, she’d plant the seed of having him apply to law schools besides Stanford. His quest to be the smartest, the best of the best, was his undoing.

She was reminded of her own career ambitions, how she came to realize she never would have survived the high pressure of a job like Roxanne’s. Some people were cut out for that. But not her, and perhaps not Jonathan.

Now if only she could get her daughter to return her call. In the course of her hour-long conversation, there was no indication Allison had told her brother about Summer. Perhaps she’d reconsidered her shameful behavior. Not that it mattered at this point—her sexual relationship with Summer was history.

Summer squirmed in her chair in an effort to stretch the muscles around her spine. Two and a half hours was too long to sit without a break, especially for a dry lecture on something as mundane as new paperwork protocols. As if the subject matter weren’t boring enough, the Deputy Secretary of Health and Human Services apparently had practiced several delivery styles and chosen the one guaranteed to put the entire room to sleep. His speech was a halting monotone, with most sentences separated by filler words.
Uh…um…you know
.

“I think my blood flow has stopped,” Alythea whispered. “Stab me in the heart and let’s see.”

“I can’t. My arms went numb about an hour ago.”

“Are there questions?” the speaker asked, apparently having caught their murmuring.

The worst part was not knowing when it would end. Another hour? Two, or even three? It was possible the deputy secretary would stretch the presentation out to the end of their workday, oblivious to the fact that funding cycles were rigid—a delay of even one day on the Sacramento end could mean a whole month of funding lost for a program desperate for money. Skipping an afternoon of work wasn’t an option when they were up against a deadline for allocations.

Years ago, Summer had practiced meditation as a means of decluttering her mind. She’d focus on the tiny things that distracted her throughout a typical day, envisioning each one on a slip of paper she’d burn until only smoke and ash remained.

She tried it from her chair, starting with the deputy secretary and his lecture. In her mind’s eye, she was back at her desk closing out the paperwork that would speed funding to the state’s homeless shelters.

This mind-numbing training was coming at a huge personal cost—Ellis had texted with an offer to take her out for sushi after their workout to thank her for lending a shoulder while she cried over Jonathan. Instead, she’d be stuck in her office until eight o’clock at the earliest.

Still, the invitation had come as a welcome surprise. She’d assumed they’d work out the terms of their friendship gradually, but Ellis appeared to be picking up where they left off. From the look of it, Sam had hit the nail on the head—it was Ellis who had the real problem, not Allison. Now that the romantic and sexual aspects were off the table, she was happy again.

Summer wouldn’t be able to recover as quickly. It would take weeks if not months of measuring her words and expressions, of checking her hands to make sure she wasn’t sending the wrong message. Eventually she’d get her emotions back where they belonged.

“Before we…you know…get to the next half…um…unless anyone has a question, we should…uh… take a short break. ”

A collective groan went up from the room to learn their purgatory was only half finished. Yet the mention of a break caused people to shift in their seats as they collected purses, water bottles and notes in preparation for dashing out the door. Anyone who dared delay their break by asking a question would probably find slashed tires later.

* * *

Ellis had a love-hate relationship with Rex’s columns. She loved reading them because they were interesting, but hated being the one to tell him the presiding justice of the third division spelled his name McGuiness, not McGuinness. That the campaign finance bill was an Assembly bill, not a Senate bill. That the governor signed it last April, not March.

It wasn’t that he’d be irked at being corrected. She was more worried he’d dropped those errors in there intentionally to see if the assistant editor would catch them—which meant there might be more. No wonder the others didn’t like him. For a guy who could be so nice, he also was a bit of a jerk.

Her phone chimed with a message, Summer finally returning her text.
In meeting since lunchtime…will have to work late. Sorry
.

Or so she said. Ellis had felt certain the awkwardness was behind them after their emotional talk. The problem was they’d addressed Jonathan’s issues, not their own. Summer had stepped up when she was needed, but it was all too clear she had no intention of going back to the way things were.
Working late
. Next she’d be coming down with something. Making excuses, playing games.

Ellis had no patience for that. It was childish to punish someone with the silent treatment. If Summer had changed her feelings, she should say so.

It certainly would solve a lot of problems, like mollifying Allison. Like not having to dread the day she introduced Summer to her parents, her brother and her in-laws. Like no longer having to face the internal confusion about who she was.

The realization of how much easier life would be should have brought a surge of relief. Instead her overriding emotion was a painful sense of loss, along with the fear that she’d never be able to trust her feelings about anyone again.

Within moments of tossing Rex’s article into her outbox, he appeared to pick it up.
“Good afternoon. I hope I didn’t screw up too much. I never want to make you work too hard.”

She chuckled, appreciating the distraction from her melancholy. “It’s the same amount of work whether you screw up or not. If you fill your column with facts, I have to verify them.”

“Good point.” Given his rolled-up sleeves and loosened tie, he’d been working in the office rather than on his beat at the capitol. As he scanned her notes, his eyebrows arched in surprise. “Only one
n
in McGuiness? Are you sure about that?”

“Now you’re fact-checking the fact-checker?” She swatted his forearm with her pencil. “And then what? We arm wrestle?”

Grinning broadly, he threw up both of his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I trust you.”

After his heads-up on the attorney calling Marcie, she’d begun looking at him in a different light. He definitely was an ally at
Vista
, and even a potential friend. It was funny how her nervousness around him had ceased after she started seeing Summer, because she no longer considered his interest in her a viable option.

Perhaps that would change. Roxanne would be over the moon if she started seeing Rex. He truly was handsome. And very smart…and cosmopolitan. She could do a lot worse.

Unfortunately, her litany of his finer qualities failed to move the needle. At least not the way Summer had.

He perched on the edge of her desk and lowered his face even with hers so he could whisper. “By the way, I wrangled a couple of box seats at the Opera House for tomorrow night. They’re dancing
Giselle
. You interested?”

She was flooded instantly with memories of her nights at the ballet with Bruce. His smart tuxedo, her cocktail dress and finest jewelry. The elderly Grossmans, who’d shared their box for years. The feeling of privilege at being part of San Francisco’s arts crowd.

“I don’t need to know right this second,” he went on. “But maybe by the end of the day?”

It took her several seconds to fully process that he was asking her on another date…perhaps even an overnight date. “Thank you, I…I’ll have to check with my kids to make sure they aren’t coming by this weekend. My daughter and I…we’re going through kind of a rough patch right now, and we might need some time to smooth it out. You know how that is.”

“You bet I do.”

Her response credibly delayed her having to answer, and also laid the groundwork for why she’d have to decline. Eventually she’d find the words to tell Rex she appreciated him as a friend.

The way she appreciated Summer as a friend. What a miserable thought.

It was only a week ago she’d felt the excitement climbing, that she’d known within a matter of days they’d make the leap to sharing a bed. There had been no need to manufacture her feelings the way she’d tried to do with Rex. If anything, she’d been nervous about the idea of getting romantically involved with a woman, but her feelings for Summer were too powerful to overcome.

That’s what she’d thrown away in answer to Allison’s outburst. All at once she felt a sense of urgency to know if there might ever be a chance to get it back—or had she ruined it forever? They needed to talk…another late-night visit. It was Friday, a day they’d come to set aside for each other.