“What?” Her mother swiveled toward Jaye, producing a started squeak from her pink upholstered chair. “How could you say such a thing?”
“The truth is painfully obvious.” She tried to unbutton the suit jacket she’d borrowed from her mother, but the opalescent buttons kept slipping through her fingers. “He never says it.”
A slight frown marred the space between her mother’s perfectly plucked eyebrows. “Says what?”
“I love you.” Jaye yanked open the jacket, launching a button into the air. The small oval pinged off one of the full-length mirrors and spun on the pristine white carpet. “If he can’t manage those three little words, I’d settle for a ‘Good to see you,’ or even a ‘Nice job, sweetie.’ Who knows? Maybe a brief discussion about football would do the trick, but all we talk about is work.”
The tension along her mother’s forehead deepened into an uncharacteristic crease. “Your father may not express his emotions, but he loves you.”
“No, Mom. He doesn’t express his emotions because he doesn’t feel them. Didn’t you hear him talk about the new software? There’s no question he likes the prototype, because he said it was absolutely brilliant. I’ve never heard him boast about me.” Jaye placed the suit jacket on a hanger and looked at her mother. “Does he say how he feels about you?”
Her mother nudged a bottle of nail polish so the bottom edge stood in a straight line with the other two bottles of classic neutral polish. “After all these years, I don’t need your father to flatter me.”
Her mother’s response sounded hollow and sad. “I admire your fortitude, Mom. I’m not so strong. I need to hear him say he loves me. I also need to hear him say those words to you.”
Cecelia smoothed a palm along her chestnut hair, checking the elegant chignon. “Your father has given us everything. We have no right to ask for more.”
Jaye thought of all the times she’d seen Mitch hug, wrestle, and tickle his brothers. “Do we really have everything, Mom? Sometimes, I feel like we have very little. Compared to most families, we hardly touch or talk.”
“There are many ways to demonstrate affection.” Cecelia’s dark eyes flicked to Jaye. “Like loyalty.”
Guilt thudded into Jaye’s stomach, filling the emptiness with the familiar taste of her parents’ stifling expectations. With a quick jerk of her arms, she took off her skirt and stepped into her jeans. The denim felt like a lifeline in this sea of muted beige. “Since we’re on the topic of loyalty, there’s something I want to talk about. I know Dad wants me to marry a man who can contribute to our business, but what if software engineers don’t turn me on?”
Her mother’s mouth hung open and nothing came out.
“Let me rephrase my question.” Jaye traded her silk blouse for a sweater, soothed by the slide of soft cotton against her skin. “In a marriage, how important is sex?”
With a choked noise, Cecelia reached for the glass of water perched beside her hairbrush and gulped a few swallows.
“Are mutual interests more important than physical attraction? Does great sex make a marriage last? Or friendship?” Jaye paced back and forth, erasing the vacuum tracks in the white carpet. “Should I be looking for a man who’ll run with me every day, or one who makes my body tingle every night? Is lust part of being in love? Or not?”
Cecelia placed her drinking glass on the vanity and pressed a palm to her throat.
Jaye thought her mother looked like she’d just swallowed a goldfish. Perhaps a more specific question would spur conversation along. “Did you feel attracted to Dad when you met him?”
Her mother blinked. Straightening in her chair, she reached for a jar of face cream. “We…liked each other.”
“Okay. Good.” Now that Jaye started this topic, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “So, does attraction fade over the years? Or does it rise and ebb? If I want a man, is there any guarantee I’ll feel the same way about him a few months from now? A year or five or ten years from now?”
The jar’s lid slipped out of her mother’s fingers, clattering into the sink. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t?” Jaye furrowed her fingers through the short silk of her hair in frustration. “Please try, Mom. Who else can I talk to about this? I doubt Dad wants to discuss sex.”
“Heavens, no.” Her mother gripped the edge of her vanity. “He’d have kittens if you broached this subject.”
Jaye let out a choked laugh. Here she was, laying her heart bare, and all her mother worried about was upsetting her father. “I met a man, Mom. A good man. He has no idea how to write code. In fact, he could shatter Dad’s tablet with one blow from his bare fist.”
Her mother’s hand covered her heart, crumpling the peach silk blouse. “You’re dating a boxer?”
“No, he’s just big and strong. At first, he looks like a drill sergeant but he’s got an amazing smile. Everyone loves him, for good reason. He cares about the people in his life. He’s talented, funny, and kind.” Just talking about Mitch made her happy. “Best of all, he likes me just the way I am. To him, I’m just a girl.”
Cecelia’s brows drew together. “He doesn’t know who you are?”
A twinge of guilt tightened her chest. “I haven’t told him everything yet. I wanted him to get to know me and not…this.” She gestured to the tastefully designed room that was supposed to be a sanctuary but felt like a prison.
Her mother’s hands folded on her lap, her slender back stiff. “Are things getting serious with this man?”
“Yes, I think so.” She couldn’t stop the smile from tilting her mouth. “He wants to continue seeing me, even when I move to Syracuse.”
“How
