Authors: Linda Hill
Jen’s mind tumbled. Caught so completely off-guard, she struggled to understand. She continued to stare at Heather, watching as she reached out and dropped something into Jen’s hand.
The brass key to Sheila’s room.
“I think you dropped this in the rest room.” Now her voice was quiet and controlled.
Jen’s heart dropped to her stomach. A groan started deep in her throat. “Heather. Let me explain.” Jennifer reached for her arm, and Heather stiffened.
“You don’t have to, Jenny.” She sounded tired. “Like I said before some things never change.”
“But they do.” Jen knew she was whining when she felt the stares of the desk clerk and the bellhop on her neck. She dropped her voice. “Please. Let’s go somewhere to talk.”
Heather shook her head, looking suddenly-exhausted.
“Jenny!” Diane Miller’s insistent voice was behind them. “Jenny!”
Jen pulled her eyes from Heather’s just as Diane reached them. She was huffing and puffing, clearly out of breath.
“I’m sorry. But you’ve got to come back in ”
“We’re leaving.”
“No.” Diane’s hand clamped down on Jen’s wrist. “I’m sorry. But you have to. Sheila’s flipping out. She’s ranting and raving at the top of her lungs.”
Jen knew her face went white. “Why me?”
Diane was tugging on my wrist now. “Because it’s your name she’s yelling.”
Heather’s lips were a tight, straight line.
“Come on, Jenny,” Diane was saying. “You know I wouldn’t drag you back in to that woman for anyŹthing less than an emergency.”
Jen knew she was right. Heather was raising both hands, palms out. “Just like old times.”
The words stung Jennifer. “Please don’t go,” she implored. “I’ll be right back.” Jen’s feet were already tripping over themselves as Diane dragged her away.
Expecting that a thundering noise would greet them when they reached the ballroom, Jen was surprised by the silence that hung over the faces that turned their way. A large group had congregated behind the bar, their necks craning to get a better view of what was happening on the-balcony beyond the French doors.
Jen followed Diane as she pushed each one aside until they were standing on the threshold of the balcony. It took several moments for Jen’s eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. Her lungs sucked in the cold air as she took in the scene before them.
Lucy was there, tugging unsuccessfully on the arm of a man, trying to pull him back to the door.
“She’s my wife,” Bobby was saying. He shrugged Lucy off and moved forward, reaching down as he went.
Jen’s eyes followed Bobby’s outstretched arm, her stomach lurching as she spotted Sheila. She was huddled in the corner of the balcony, hair strewn wildly and makeup smeared across her face. Her already short skirt fell back around her thighs as she kicked outward, striking Bobby’s hand.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, her fists flailing as Bobby bent over her. “Stay away from me!” She was screeching and howling obscenities repeatedly, causing each of the others to cringe in response.
Jen glanced to Gina, Lucy, and then Diane before turning back to Sheila and Bobby.
“Bobby.” Diane called his name in a controlled voice before stepping out into the fray. She reached for his shoulder. “Bobby.”
He turned to face her, his wounded face contorted in pain. As Diane spoke to him quietly, Jen’s eyes fell back to Sheila, who continued to wail at the top of her lungs.
Bobby was eyeing Jennifer now, and for the first time in Jen’s life, she actually felt sympathy for the man. She nodded quietly before taking a deep breath and gingerly stepping outside.
Sheila was sobbing quietly now, so that all Jen could hear was Bobby’s deep breaths as she inched past him. Gauging herself to be at least an arm’s length away, Jen crouched down to observe Sheila more closely.
“Sheila?” Jen said her name quietly. When no response came, she repeated the name again. Swollen eyes fluttered open.
“Jenny?” Tears sprang again, sending even more makeup streaming down her cheeks. “You came back.”
Jennifer smiled gently, her heart constricting. “Of course I did.”
“But I saw you leaving with her.” She was wiping her nose on the sleeve of her blouse, trying without success to straighten her hair.
“I’m right here, Sheila.” She felt guilty, hating the sound of her own voice, hating the lie that she was implying.
“You didn’t leave me.” Fresh tears sprang in her eyes and she rubbed them furiously.
Jennifer could smell the alcohol, even from that distance. Sheila was stinking drunk.
Jen glanced back over her shoulder, nodding curtly at Diane and Bobby, whose eyes she couldn’t meet. When she turned back to Sheila, she knew that Diane was convincing Bobby to back off.
“Come hold me, Jenny.” Sheila patted the concrete slab beside her. “Please?”
Jen hesitated. “Sheila,” she said quietly, her voice caressing the name. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
Sheila giggled.
“How about some coffee? Would you like that?” “Will you drink with me?” She sounded like a child.
“Of course. Right out here on the balcony.” She threw a glance back over her shoulder and knew that Lucy was scampering to find some coffee.
“Hold me?” Sheila’s arms were outstretched, her streaked face that of a scared, pathetic child as she begged the question again. “Please?”
The image of Sheila shook Jen. With a heavy heart, she nodded, then knelt to take Sheila in her arms.
They held each other tightly, rocking slowly, obŹlivious to onlookers. They huddled together, arms wrapped tightly as they sat in silence.
Lucy came with a large pot of coffee and left after pouring two cups. Gina appeared with a large blanket, which Jennifer accepted and tucked around the two of them. Wordlessly, she held Sheila while she watched Diane shooing everyone away from the doors. Finally, only two pairs of eyes were peeking through the curtains at the two women, and Jen knew they belonged to Bobby and Diane.
Well over an hour and a full pot of coffee had passed before Sheila lifted her head from Jen’s shoulder and sighed loudly.
“I really made a mess tonight, Jenny.” She soundŹed tired and resigned. Traces of her earlier drunkenŹness had evaporated.
Cautiously, Jen searched for a reply. “Let’s just say you were the hit of the party,” she said softly.
Sheila chuckled, appreciating Jen’s humor, before growing somber once again. “My life just seems to be one fuckup after another.”
Jennifer remained quiet, letting Sheila continue.
“I never meant to hurt you when we were kids, Jenny. I loved you more than anything.” She was shaking her head. “I just didn’t have the strength. Bobby asked me to marry him, and I thought it was what I was supposed to do. It was a mistake. One mistake on top of another.”
Jennifer searched for optimistic words. “But I’m sure he loves you, Sheila.”
“I know he does. Even after all the hell I’ve put him through. But you were right this morning.” She shifted a bit, so that she could better face the other woman.
Jennifer tried, but couldn’t recall what she had said earlier that day. Even that morning felt years and years ago.
“You were right when you said I shouldn’t stay with him if I’m still attracted to women.” She eyed Jen openly, regret plain on her face. “I’ve been searching for another Jenny Moreland since the day I got married. Pretty pathetic, huh?”
Jennifer was careful not to agree or disagree. The truth was that even now she felt torn. She wanted to tell her how much she’d hurt over the years. How much she had longed to be with her again. But another part of her took a sick pleasure in knowing that Sheila had also suffered. But more than anything, she just wanted to let go. “I don’t know anything about your relationship with your husband.” She chose her words carefully. “I only know that you don’t seem very happy. You have to go with your heart, I guess.”
“And if it leads me to you?” Sheila countered.
A breeze picked up, sending a shiver down
Jennifer’s spine as she mulled over her reply. “It took me a very, very long time to get over you, Sheila.” She met Sheila’s eyes squarely, unable to control the unabashed hurt in her own. “But I have. I couldn’t go back now.”
Sheila digested this with a shrug and a smile. “It would never work anyway. We’ve both moved on.”
Jennifer nodded, the quiet settling between them once more. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” Sheila sighed. “I’ve got a husband and three boys to worry about. And I just made an absolute fool of myself.” She groaned. “I think I’ve got to pee, darlin’.”
Jennifer laughed and slowly unwound her stiff joints to stand. She was conscious of the door openŹing and three figures stepping outside as she reached down to help Sheila to her feet.
“I’m sorry, Jenny.” Sheila’s arms wrapped around her tightly, and Jennifer allowed herself to squeeze the other woman in return. “For everything.”
In another moment, Jennifer’s arms were empty, with nothing but the Des Moines skyline before her. Tears were threatening, and she stabbed at her eyes angrily as Bobby wrapped his arms around his wife and walked off with her.
“Are you okay?” Diane and Lucy stood a short distance away.
Jennifer nodded, failing at her attempt to smile. “She was a mess, huh?”
Diane was nodding. “Thanks for coming back.”
“Sure,” she nodded with finality. “Let’s get out of here.”
The ballroom had emptied in her absence. Jennifer glanced around only briefly when she reached the lobby. She hadn’t really expected Heather to be there waiting, anyway.
She tried without success to sneak into her sister’s house without making a sound. But Sally, draped in a cotton bathrobe, had followed her to her bedroom, before she even had a chance to kick off her shoes.
“What happened to my suit?” Sally’s voice was groggy with sleep.
Eyes wide, Jen glanced down to see the front of the suit smeared with makeup. One sleeve was caked with heavy brown foundation, and one lapel was streaked with black mascara.
“Shit. It’s Sheila’s makeup.” She hurried to shrug out of the jacket, grimacing as Sally grabbed it for inspection.
“Christ, Jenny. What the hell did you do?” She threw her sister a disgusted look before holding out one hand and turning her face away. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Recognizing the direction that Sally’s thoughts had taken, Jennifer was quick to come to her own defense. “It’s not what you think. She was crying. She was a mess.” She bent to look closer at the damaged suit. “I’m sorry about the suit. I’ll pay to have it cleaned.”
“And I’ll let you,” Sally retorted, dropping the jacket in a heap to the floor. She faced her sister, pulling the robe tightly around her and shading her eyes from the bright light. “What the hell happened? It’s almost three o’clock.”
Jennifer groaned. “It’s late. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”
Sally responded by plopping herself down on Jen’s bed and making herself comfortable. “Tomorrow the kids will be demanding attention, and you’ll be getting on a plane back to Phoenix. I want to spend time with my sister.” She pouted as she patted the bed beside her. “Humor me.”
Jennifer smiled as she joined her sister on the bed. Jennifer recounted the events of the past several hours.
Some twenty minutes later, she dropped her head on her pillow, tired from the retelling.
“Is your life always this tumultuous?” Sally asked. “I notice you didn’t use the word exciting.” Jen was able to find her sense of humor. “But no. My life is usually quite dull.”
“What are you going to do about Heather?”
“I don’t know.” Frowning, Jen shook her head. “I don’t even have her phone number.” Her heart was sinking. Even if she did find her, she didn’t know if she could find the words to make things right.
Her waking thoughts were of Heather. Maybe she could change her flight. Maybe she could drive over to the airport and catch her before she boarded the plane.
That’s it! Her eyes flew open, and she threw back the blankets in a single motion. One hand reached for a bathrobe while the other grabbed her watch from the nightstand.
“Nine-thirty.” She blinked hard, not trusting her eyes. “Shit. She’s already over Saint Louis by now. Shit. Shit. Shit.” She fell back against her pillow. She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting back over the night before. She wondered about Sheila, how she was, how she was coping.
She waited to feel the familiar ache that always came with the memory of Sheila, but she felt nothing.
It was a somber group that hovered around the boarding gate at the Des Moines airport.
Jennifer always hated it when it was time to say good-bye, and this time was no exception. In fact, it was worse. Her heart was heavy.
Sally was sniffling. Allison had taken up her favorite position behind her mother’s leg. Tommy sat securely in his father’s arms, pointing that single finger right at her and repeating her name over and over. “Jeffer. Jeffer. Jeffer.” Giggles erupted.
The flight attendant was saying that all passenŹgers holding a boarding pass should be enplaning. Not wanting to prolong the inevitable any longer, Jennifer began her good-byes.
She hugged Jim quickly. She felt the first threat of tears when Tommy planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her mouth and hugged her tightly.
Jennifer squatted down, taking one last shot at trying to coax her niece out from behind her mother’s leg.
“By, Allison,” she tried. “I’ll see you at Christmas, okay?”
Wide brown eyes stared back at her for several moments. Feeling rejected once more, Jen stood up, completely caught off guard when Allison dashed around Sally to throw herself into Jennifer’s arms.
“I don’t want you to leave.” She was crying, tears rolling down round cheeks. Small fists clutched at the short hair on Jennifer’s head, refusing to let go.
“Allison, I’ll be back. I promise.” Jennifer felt her eyes stinging in earnest.
“No, you won’t,” she pouted. Full, tiny lips were pulled down in a frown. “You always stay away forŹever.”
Jennifer eyed the little girl. It hadn’t even ocŹcurred to her that Allison might remember her from her last visit. “Do you remember the last time I was here?”