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.”