“And still,” Jenn said. “Here we are.”
“And where is that?”
“Between a rock and a hard place,” Jenn said. “I can’t be with you and I can’t give you up.”
Jesse got up and went to the cupboard in Jenn’s kitchen and found a bottle of Dewar’s scotch. He put a lot of ice in a big glass, and poured a lot of the Dewar’s over it. He brought the glass back to the table.
“So much for sparkling water,” Jenn said.
“So much.”
Jesse took a large swallow. He could feel it spread through him. His breathing seemed deeper. He could handle this.
“I meet men I like,” Jenn said. “I find them attractive. I think I could, if not marry them, maybe, at least live with them. And I can’t.”
Jesse took another drink. Usually he had it with soda.
“Because?”
“On the surface it’s because they turn out to be badly flawed. Drink too much, or selfish, or womanizers, or dishonest, or emotional cripples, or people for whom sex is entirely about them… something. And I have to break up with them.”
Jesse waited.
“My shrink says maybe their flaws are their appeal.”
Jesse was quiet. Jenn finished the wine in her glass and Jesse poured her some more.
“He says maybe I find this kind of man because it’s what I deserve for leaving you,” Jenn said. “And maybe it ensures that I won’t marry them and leave you for good.”
The scotch was working. The hard weight in his center was less.
“And all this is unconscious?” Jesse said.
“Mostly,” Jenn said. “But it’s right. I know it is. It resonates the way something does when it’s right.”
“So you don’t want to leave me for good.”
“I can’t,” Jenn said. “I can’t even think about a life without you in it.”
“But you don’t want to be my wife again.”
“I don’t know. God Jesus, don’t you think if I knew what to do I would do it? Sometimes I get so scared of losing you I can’t breathe.”
“And when you think about coming back?” Jesse said.
“I get so scared I can’t breathe,” Jenn said.
Jesse drank the rest of his scotch. He got up and went to the kitchen and got more ice and more scotch and brought it back to the table. He sat across from her with the candlelight moving softly between them. Jenn put her hand out on the tabletop toward him.
“I’ll get better,” Jenn said. “I’m doing good in therapy. I’ll get better.”
Jesse put his hand on top of hers.
“Well,” he said, “I think my best bet is to hang around and see how it comes out.”
Jenn started to cry gently. Jesse patted her hand. He knew how she felt.
Chapter Forty
Jesse had a lunch scheduled with Norman Shaw on Paradise Neck at the Boat Club. He arrived a few minutes late and found Shaw at the bar, talking with someone.
“Chief Stone,” Shaw said. “Michael Wasserman.”
Jesse shook the man’s hand.
“Wasserman’s organizing an event,” Shaw said. “And I’m agreeing to be honorary chair.”
Jesse nodded.
“I’ll get a table,” Jesse said. “You can join me when you’re through.”
“I always sit at the same table,” Shaw said. “Just tell the girl you’re joining me.”
The table was at the window, and from it, Jesse could see the town proper, rising up from its working waterfront, to the town hall bell tower at the top of the hill. He watched Shaw shake hands again with Michael Wasserman and come across the room toward him. Shaw had on cream-colored slacks and a raspberry-colored linen jacket over a forest green polo shirt.
“Great view, isn’t it?” he said as he sat down.
“Yes.”
A gray-haired motherly looking waitress appeared immediately.
“Want a drink?” Shaw said.
