Being Jane: A New Adult Erotic Romance: Fountain of Love (9 page)

Jane

Autumn always made
me a little bit melancholy. Once the leaves changed colors, the landscape grew progressively
drearier and the bitter cold crept in stealthily but sure. This autumn seemed especially
depressing.

Life had gone back
to normal for Jane Brown. I had stretched that darn rubber band as far as I
could take it, and when it snapped back, it had hurt. After my crazy burst of
defiance, when I went to the forbidden lake party, my parents had laid down the
gauntlet. There would be no more socializing for me, not that it mattered much.
My fairytale romance with Nate had gone up in smoke and had taken the entire
extent of my social life with it. Nate had tried half heartedly to win me back,
but I guess Michelle was there to soothe his sorrowful heartbreak.

I was able to get
over Nate. I had loved him with an exuberant innocence, just like any girl who
loved her first boyfriend did. Nate had showed me a taste of life. He had been
an escape from the boring Jane Brown who always felt so invisible and unloved. I
loved what Nate did for me, more so than the actual man himself. But, it was
Dusty who had broken my heart. He was the one who had crushed my soul, whether
he knew it or not.

Dusty, the man who
came to my rescue the night that Nate betrayed me, was the man that I had
secretly loved all along. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t
remember the feel of his hands caressing my body, or remember the taste of his
lips against my own or remember how he made my body soar when he made love to
me.

I replayed our
night together over and over. He had taken me to heights I had never imagined
before and showed me pleasures I never even knew existed. I had abandoned all
reason, all pride and all modesty when he touched me. He made me feel safe and
beautiful and loved.

I was filled with
happiness when I awoke nestled in his arms. It felt like I belonged there. It
had been a really long time since I had felt true happiness. Even as I marveled
at that fact, suspicions started to crowd into my head, suspicions that I
didn’t deserve to be happy, reminders that I wasn’t good enough.

The ugly voice in
the back of my head grew louder.
I was a slut
. One minute I was sleeping
with Nate and then hours later, I was spreading my legs for his roommate.

Would Dusty think
I was the biggest slut in the world? Just like my mother had said I was? I
literally threw myself at him, climbing into his bed like a cheap whore. I felt
the shame of what I had done clawing at my insides until I thought I’d be sick.
Panic infused me until all I could think of was getting away from Dusty before
he woke up. I couldn’t face my humiliation.

It took me over a
week to find out that Dusty had moved to Colorado. Days and days of not knowing
he was gone and clinging to the hope that he’d seek me out. Hoping that he
really didn’t think that I was just an easy lay. Hoping that maybe I meant
something to him. But he had already been long gone.

Months later, I
still couldn’t shake Dusty from my mind. Dusty was the man who made love to me
and then walked out of my life the next day like it was nothing. Dusty was the
man that I would never get over.

I shook my head to
clear the ever-intruding thoughts of Dusty from it. Pasting on a fake smile, I
opened the door to the hair salon. I chatted with the receptionist for a few
minutes until my aunt came out from the back room.

She pulled me into
a big hug. “Hello sweetie! Daisy told me you were coming in today. Sabrina is
going to be mad she missed you. She’s home with the little one today. He’s got
some kind of stomach virus thing…”

I relaxed as I
listened to Aunt Bettie’s non-stop chatter. After she finished washing my hair,
she led me up to her station.

Aunt Bettie’s
swivel chair had been less like a stylist’s chair and more like a therapist’s couch
to me over the years. Once I climbed into it, I felt like our session was
beginning.

“I’ve been hearing
some interesting chatter about you lately.”

I wasn’t
surprised. Aunt Bettie was well connected. She could give a detailed report
about half the people in town and she knew plenty of juicy gossip about the
other half.

I raised an
eyebrow. “Huh. I’m not usually so gossip-worthy.”

“Jane Brown. Don’t
be coy.” She placed a hand on her hip. “Spill it all. Start with the boyfriend.
Nate is it?”

My shoulders
drooped a little. “Your gossip must be old.
Ex
-boyfriend, Nate.”

Aunt Bettie began
combing my damp hair. “I admit my sources are a little weak where you’re
concerned. But I shouldn’t need sources to find out what’s going on with my own
niece. Out with it.”

“Well, I met Nate
at the beginning of the summer. He was really cute and fun to be around and he
really seemed to like me. We started dating and, of course, I couldn’t tell
Mom. She would have flipped out. So I had to sneak around just to go on
innocent dates, like to the movies and stuff.”

Aunt Bettie began
trimming my hair. “And that’s why you pretended to be working at the diner
non-stop, when in reality you only worked there a few nights a week?”

“How did you
figure that out?”

I watched in the
mirror as Aunt Bettie waved her scissors around behind my head. “Honey, those
diner people know how to gossip. Plus, I’ve been friends with Phyllis Landrau
since grade school.”

How she pieced
everything together like a detective boggled my mind. “I didn’t know you knew
Phyllis. Huh. Anyway, a few times I told Mom I was going out on a date. She
freaked out and got all crazy, but she couldn’t really stop me. I mean, it was
obvious that she was being unreasonable. I think I was wearing her down a bit.
Like eventually she might get used to the idea.”

Aunt Bettie
snorted. “There ain’t no use waiting for that to happen. Your Mom’s never going
to change. What was the big hubbub I heard about you running away? Your father
was ready to call the police, because your mother was so distraught.”

“Running away?” I
rolled my eyes. “Is that what Dad told you? I specifically told them that I was
spending a weekend with friends. Going to a party at the lake. I guess I pushed
too hard, too fast. Mom had a complete meltdown and threatened to kick me out
if I went. But, I went anyway. I walked right out the door as she was screaming
like a lunatic.”

Aunt Bettie was
frowning as she snipped at my hair. “I see. So when you came home from that little
adventure - that’s when the house arrest started?”

I sighed. “Yep. Dad
laid down the law. Mom wouldn’t even look at me for weeks after it happened.
She still barely speaks to me now. Dad’s on her side.”

Aunt Bettie shook
her head sadly. “Your father loves your mother very much. He always has. He would
do anything to protect her.”

“Protect her from
what? Me? The devil child? It doesn’t make any sense. And the worst part is
that I risked all that just so I could go to what turned out to be the worst
party ever.”

“What happened?”

I studied my
fingernails as I tried to control the emotions that threatened to bubble up. “I
walked in on Nate with another girl. It was … really bad.”

Aunt Bettie
stopped cutting. “Oh honey. I’m so sorry. Men can be pigs. It’s a lesson most
of us have to learn multiple times before it finally sinks in. I know this
isn’t going to help right now, but there will be other guys. You’ll fall in
love again. Trust me.”

Tears were
stinging my eyes. “What’s the good of falling in love with someone when your
mother won’t even let you speak to a boy? What’s the point?”

Aunt Bettie shook
her head in disgust. “Well, that’s a
whole
other problem.”

“I just can’t
stand it anymore. I feel trapped. I’m so miserable at home. With my life. With
everything.” I had to speak past the lump in my throat.

She began snipping
at my hair again. “Then it’s time to do something about it.”

“What can I do?”
My situation seemed hopeless.

“You’re going to
have to leave.” She sounded so matter of fact about it. “Cut those apron
strings. You’re an adult. You’ve got a fancy college degree. Work out a plan to
leave. Your opportunity will pop up. You just have to recognize it when it does
and have the courage to act on it.”

I was amazed. Aunt
Bettie was telling me to just up and move out. “But, I’m flat broke. And I’ve
been searching for a real job for months.”

“That’s fear
talking, Jane. That’s your mother’s legacy to you. But this is
your
life. You have to take control of it now. Be smart about it, but don’t ever let
your mother’s fears and anxieties hold you back.”

The same old
question continued to torment me. I shook my head in confusion. “But, what is
she so afraid of? I don’t understand. Is it just her personality? A weird
genetic defect or something?”

“Oh no, she wasn’t
always like this. Of course, we didn’t go to the same high school, but your
mother used to be quite popular –”

A jolt of surprise
hit me. “Wait. You didn’t go to the same high school as Mom?”

“No. Your father
and I grew up here in town and we went to West Chapel High School like you. But
your mother grew up in Courtland.”

Courtland was just
the next town over, but I had always assumed my mother had gone to West Chapel,
too. Of course, my mother had never talked about high school. There were no
stories, no high school friends or reunions, not even a yearbook.

“So something
happened to Mom to make her change?” My brain was frantically trying to put
together the pieces.

I saw a silent
acknowledgement in Aunt Bettie’s eyes. “Oh honey, I’ve said more than I’ve
meant to say.

There was an old
hidden secret that had been buried deep. I spoke quietly. “Aunt Bettie, I need
to know.”

She shook her
bleached blonde curls and pursed her lips. “I’m sorry. It’s not my story to
tell.”

She spun me around
in the chair and began blow-drying my hair. Aunt Bettie, the biggest gossip in
the world, wouldn’t tell me and I knew for a fact that neither of my parents
would tell me. Intuition told me that it was important. Somehow I had to find
out.

By the time Aunt
Bettie finished my hair, she had a giant smile back on her face. “Have you
spoken to Johnnie lately?”

I looked up in
surprise. “Johnnie Morano?”

“Yeah, his mother
was just in here last week. Boy, does she ever love you. Johnnie is going to come
home for Thanksgiving. She’s already fixing to have you over for dinner that
weekend.”

I laughed. “Her
matchmaking is not going to work.”

Aunt Bettie winked
at me. “You mean, because he’s gay?”

My mouth fell open
in shock. “How did you know that?”

“He should really
put his poor mother out of her misery and clue her in. She can handle it. I’m
sure of it.”

***

I always had a lot
to think about after Aunt Bettie worked her magic on my psyche. So, after my
haircut, I sat in the parking lot just thinking. My shift at the diner didn’t
start for another three hours. I started my car and headed out of town without
even thinking twice.

I thought it would
be like searching for a needle in a haystack. I didn’t even know what I was
looking for. But I was wrong. Once I figured out how to work the microfiche
machine at the Courtland library, it didn’t take long at all. I had gathered
archived film from the Courtland local newspaper from the years that
corresponded to my mother’s junior and senior year of high school. What I was
looking for turned out to be front-page news for months and months.

In the two hours I
had left to research, I was able to piece together most of the story. The
summer before my mother’s senior year of high school, she had been raped. It
had been a rather brutal attack. She had been left badly bruised and beaten.
The man who had attacked her was her boyfriend. He was the son of Courtland’s
own beloved sheriff. He was a true golden boy: handsome, athletic, and a
straight A student. The town was shocked.

Until they
weren’t. The investigation led nowhere. Alibis were produced out of thin air.
Story after story was written spreading doubt and derision. Letters to the
editor were filled with hatred. My mother was disdainfully described by people
who were once her friends as flirty, liking attention from boys and dressing
provocatively. My mother was vilified and thoroughly shunned by the community.
Everyone was convinced that she had made up the entire story.

How did the story
end? My mother had apparently recanted the rape accusation. The newspaper
articles died down after that, but I knew the story had not ended. It had never
ended.

I had been borne
to a woman that had never recovered. From the dates, I knew that she had
married my father several years later, and I had been born years after that. My
father may have truly loved my mother. He protected her and sheltered her from
the world. But he hadn’t helped her. He hadn’t healed her. He’d enabled her
anxieties, practically nurturing her fears over the years. And I wasn’t sure
that my mother ever really loved him back. I wasn’t sure if she was even capable
of it.

I drove straight
to work, my mind numb. I could feel sorry for the girl in the newspaper, but it
wasn’t translating over to feeling anything for my mother yet. I still needed
time to process it all.

I had woken up
that morning with no idea that my life would feel so drastically different
hours later. It wouldn’t be the only surprise that day. We don’t seem to get
advance warning when these game changers come around. They can just stop you in
your tracks right in the middle of the most mundane task.