"I see," Worth had responded. "You want a man who will be the perfect gentleman in public and then go all Darth Vader on you in private?"
Jessica smiled again, remembering. Of course, that's what she wanted.
"You want to make sweet, sweet, soulmate love on Sunday afternoons after church—"
Jessica blushed in her chair as she remembered interrupting him. "And I want to make mad monkey love in the back seat of the car in an airport parking garage."
For a few seconds, there had been silence on the line. Jessica had slowly lain back on the pillow, concerned that he was withdrawing again, turtle-like, into that maddeningly thick shell of propriety. Was she being impatient? Needy? Or was she just in love for the first time in her life?
"Jessica?" he had finally said. "About that parking garage."
Even now, Jessica took a deep breath as the piano accompaniment reached a crescendo in her ears. How had he put it, exactly?
"I fly pretty often. Maybe one of these days, you'd give me a ride to the airport?"
Chapter 9
Sounding Board
"Worth sounds absolutely wonderful, Jessica," Carol said, leafing through one of her many photo albums. Jessica sat beside her mother on the couch, having spent a quiet Thanksgiving together.
Worth had been in Canada visiting his mother who had, unfortunately, fallen and broken her ankle. It would be even longer before she officially showed up at the magazine or was formally introduced to her son's lady friend. They'd talked by phone a few times, and Jessica could tell that they'd get along, but sometimes she wondered what was going on with Worth himself. He was due home tonight.
Jessica sighed. "He is. But we haven't really spent much time together. He's been busy with various family corporations, meetings. He's always flying somewhere or other." And he hasn't asked me to give him a ride, that's for sure. "He hasn't been in the office that much lately. And now it's almost Christmas, and we're still not really a couple. No one knows except you and his mother, as far as I know. There are some things I want to ask him about, but I haven't had a chance." Her tone had turned wistful. I have, though. Maybe I don't want to know the answers. Could he have known that boy? Did he know the librarian? Did he—God forbid—have anything to do with it? Why does he always change the subject?
Carol looked up from the album and gave her daughter a "really?" look. "You feel strongly about this man, I can tell. And you're thinking that if he's not wooing you, he might not feel the same way? No dating means no mating? Something like that?"
Jessica shook her head. "Mom, everything about this man is infuriating. The first time we met, we—well, we hit it off right away. So well, that he was afraid he'd overstepped."
Carol waited for more. When Jessica didn't elaborate, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, a story for another time. But since then, he hasn't been as attentive?"
Jessica got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "He's very attentive, Mom. He calls every night, emails funny stories, describes the places he's been or people he's seen." Coming back into the room, she stopped. "I guess I never realized how important the physical aspect of a relationship is to me. I knew there was something missing with Eric, but I always wondered if it might be my fault."
Carol shook her head. "You and Eric just weren't suited for one another. He's the way he is, which is fine, and from what you tell me about Donna, they've got a good thing going on. I'm happy about that. But—" her mother paused.
Is she blushing? Jessica thought as she sat back down on the couch.
"Honey, your father and I had something special," Carol said. "We were always open with each other, passionate, thrilled to be together. Even when I was carrying you, and after, and until he died, we never lost that feeling of being sixteen, hungry for one another."
Jessica smiled sadly. "I know, Mom. I knew it every time I saw you together, knew that you were so much in love." She stroked her mother's back. "I guess I should have been thinking that it was possible for me too, instead of thinking that you and Dad were the only people on the planet to have what you had. Sometimes it felt like that, growing up, and after. I looked at my friends' parents. I looked at my friends, my co-workers. I didn't see anything like what the two of you had, anywhere. I think I thought it couldn't exist for anyone else, certainly not for me. I convinced myself that you and Dad were unique."
Carol closed the photo album. "We were in love, that's all. Really and truly in love. I think that's what everyone in love is supposed to experience. The trick is to never fall out." She smiled. "But there is something I'd like to tell you. Since we're talking about love. And…intimacy."
Jessica settled back into the couch as Carol opened the album back up and flipped to a particular page. "Do you remember when this was taken?"
There was a photo of a retirement party for one of the firefighters. Jessica and her parents were standing arm in arm beside the party's honoree. On the other side, stood Chief Henderson and his wife, Angie, a pretty, petite woman who seemed to be
