Never Say Goodbye (9 page)

“I'll get wet either way. It doesn't matter,” he replied as he withdrew a plastic bag from his pocket and slipped his sketchbook inside.

“But if we each make a dash for our cars we'll only get slightly damp,” she persisted.

“I took the bus here, Jess,” he said matter-of-factly. “So where are you parked?”

She stared at him. Scott had taken a
bus?
He'd never taken a bus in his life—except maybe in college. Certainly not since she'd known him. Why in the world would he be doing so now?

“You took a bus?” she repeated in confusion.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don't have a car yet.”

“Why not?”

He gave her a crooked grin. “Because car dealers don't sell cars based on good looks. Although I'm not sure that would necessarily help me even if they did.”

Again she stared at him. Frankly, she had never even thought about Scott's financial situation. Of course, she knew he'd signed over his interest in all their assets to her after the trial. Not that she'd asked him to. Or cared one way or the other. At the time finances were the last thing on her mind. She'd simply told her attorney to deal with it and asked no questions. For the first six months she'd simply drawn on her accounts for day-to-day living expenses and counseling. And by the time she was able to take more control over her finances, she simply started from where she was. Her attorney was a trusted family
friend with an impeccable reputation, and she'd never doubted his diligent management of her assets. But all along Jess had just assumed that Scott had kept
something
in reserve for himself. A cash account somewhere. Had she been wrong?

“I don't understand,” she said, still confused. “Don't you have any money?”

He gave her an easy smile. “Sure. I have a decent job. Seth pays a good wage.”

“No, I mean from before.”

Now his face grew serious. “Didn't your attorney tell you? I turned everything over to you.”

“I knew about the major assets, of course, but I…I guess I just assumed you kept something in reserve for…for when you got out,” she replied, growing more and more flustered.

He shook his head. “I wanted you to have everything.”

“But that isn't really fair. I mean, I have way more than I need.”

“It's fair, Jess. Trust me.” His gaze locked with hers, and she knew that this was one subject that was not open to discussion. “So do you want to make a run for it?”

She looked at the rain, which had intensified even as they spoke. Scott would be drenched in a matter of minutes if he had to wait for a bus.

“Why don't you let me drive you home?” she said impulsively.

Scott looked as surprised by the offer as she felt.

“Are you sure?” he said cautiously.

No, she wasn't. In fact, she wasn't sure about a lot of things lately. But ignoring the issues wasn't going
to make them go away. Just as avoiding Scott wasn't going to help her resolve her feelings about him.

“Honestly? No. It just…came out,” she replied truthfully.

A shadow of disappointment briefly passed over his eyes, but he recovered quickly. “It's okay. I have to make a quick stop on the way home, anyway. It's better if I just take the bus. But thank you. Now, where's your car? I'll still walk with you that far.”

She nodded to the right, and he fell in beside her as they rapidly crossed the asphalt. By the time they reached the door she had her key in hand, and she quickly fitted it into the lock and slid inside. She looked up at him to say goodbye, but the words died in her throat as she noted the rain already soaking through his cotton shirt, the lines of weariness in his face, the kindness in his eyes. And when she finally opened her mouth, entirely different words came out.

“I don't mind making a stop, Scott. Get in before you're soaked.”

This time he didn't question her motives. After only the slightest hesitation, he simply closed her door and made his way around to the passenger side.

And as she reached over to unlock the door for him, Jess couldn't help but feel that she was opening the door to far more than her car.

S
cott's physical presence somehow seemed magnified in the confines of Jess's compact car, and she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear before backing out of the parking spot. Somehow sharing her car with him seemed to move their relationship to a new, more personal level.

The significance of the moment wasn't lost on Scott, either. In the three and a half months since his release, his encounters with Jess had always been in public places where other people could see what they were doing and hear what they were saying. By contrast, the intimacy of her car gave them a degree of privacy they hadn't had in almost four years, providing an opportunity to talk about things best discussed behind closed doors. Considering her almost palpable tension, Jess was keenly aware of that, he surmised. She was probably having not just
second
thoughts about her offer of a ride, but third and fourth thoughts. So he needed to put her at ease, assure her he wasn't going
to use the situation to introduce topics with which she was not yet comfortable.

“Nice car,” he said, deliberately adopting an even, conversational tone. “And it sure beats the bus. Thanks again for the lift.”

“No problem.” Her voice sounded strained, and she lapsed into silence until they reached the parking-lot exit. “Which way?”

“Left. Then left again at the first light. There's a grocery store a few blocks down. That's where I need to stop.”

She turned to him in surprise. “You're going grocery shopping?”

He smiled. “No. I just need to pick up a couple of things for someone.”

As they drove the short distance, Scott purposely kept the conversation light. And by the time they pulled into the lot a few minutes later, she seemed to have relaxed slightly.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I'll wait.”

“Okay. I'll only be a few minutes.” He stepped out of the car, then leaned back down. “But lock the doors. This isn't the best part of town.”

“I work down here, remember?” she reminded him wryly.

“I'll bet you never wander more than a block or two from the garden.”

She conceded the point with a nod. “True.”

“Good. Keep it that way, okay?” When her eyes widened in surprise, he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.
Some old habits die hard, I guess. I'll be right back.” He locked the door before pushing it closed.

Jess watched him until he disappeared inside the building, then slowly exhaled. She needed a few minute to decompress, to figure out what had happened back in the parking lot at the botanical garden. Because she'd certainly had no intention of offering Scott a ride. Not even
once,
let alone
twice.
Yet she hadn't taken him up on the out he'd offered. Why? There was no logical explanation for her behavior—except maybe that she was off balance because of all the strange things that had happened today, she reasoned, ticking them off in her mind.

First, Scott's invitation to stop at the café had come out of the blue. Given her reservations about merely exchanging a few words in passing, her acceptance made no sense.

Second, the unexpected eruption of intense longing in response to his comment about coffee had left her reeling. Despite the other problems in their marriage, the attraction between them had never diminished, she recalled, her mouth suddenly going dry. At least in that one respect, their marriage had been solid. But how could he still produce that kind of effect in her with just one intimate look and two simple words, when she'd spent the past four years hating him? That made even less sense.

Third, his abrupt ending to their impromptu coffee klatch had disconcerted her. Especially since he'd gone out of his way to look her up, making it clear that he wanted to talk with her, spend time with her.
The fact that he'd cut their conversation short didn't make sense, either.

And finally, her impulsive offer of a lift had
especially
not made sense.

Then again, not much in her life
had
made sense these past few weeks, she acknowledged with a sigh. Feelings she thought she'd sorted out long ago had bubbled to the surface. Especially her feelings about Scott. With each encounter, she became less able to sustain the hate that her father, particularly, still harbored—and encouraged. She understood her parents' feelings, of course. Had shared them until recently. In fact, in many ways hate made life easier. Fix the blame, condemn and walk away unblemished. It was much neater than sorting through messy shades of gray. But in reality, most situations just weren't that simple. Particularly this one, Jess was beginning to realize.

She let her head drop back and wearily closed her eyes. Since Elizabeth's death, fatigue had been her constant companion. Hate might make life easier by dulling the pain of grief, but maintaining such a draining and nonproductive emotion took a lot of energy. Especially now. It had been much easier to despise Scott when he was far removed and locked behind bars. It was a whole lot harder when he stood inches away and she saw nothing but kindness reflected in his eyes. Her resolve to keep him at arm's length was definitely wavering, she acknowledged. But was it because giving Scott a hearing was the right thing to do, as Mark had suggested—or because she was simply
too tired to fight his clear, if unspoken, determination to once more be a part of her life?

Jess didn't know. And there was no one she could turn to for advice. Her parents were too biased against Scott to view the situation impartially. Mark was too much of an advocate on the other side. Which left her stuck in the middle. And directionless.

There was a time, of course, when she could have turned to Someone else for guidance, she reflected sadly. But that had been years ago, when God's presence had been a real part of her life. The connection between them had been broken long ago, and restoring it seemed an impossible task at this point. She didn't even know where to start. And until she did, she was on her own, with nothing to guide her but her instincts. Which she didn't have a whole lot of faith in, considering where they had led her today, she acknowledged ruefully.

A sudden knock on the passenger window brought her abruptly back to reality, and her head snapped up. She reached to unlock the door for Scott, leaning over even farther to push it open when she saw that he was juggling a small bakery box and a bouquet of flowers.

“Sorry. Were you sleeping?” he asked as he slid inside.

His shirt was damp, and she wondered how long he'd stood in the rain debating whether or not to disturb her. “No. Just resting.”

“Long week?”

“Busy,” she amended.

He gazed at her, noting that the shadows under her eyes seemed even deeper than when he'd first seen her
weeks before. “You look tired, Jess,” he said gently. “Are you sleeping okay?”

She gave him a startled look, and her eyes shuttered slightly.
Too personal,
Scott chided himself.
Back off.
“Sorry. None of my business.”

She reached forward and turned on the motor, ignoring his comment. “Pretty flowers,” she said as she looked over her shoulder and began backing out of the parking space.

“Yeah. I think she'll like them.”

Jess's foot slipped off the brake and she almost ran into the car next to her.

“Careful!” he warned in alarm. “You're pretty close on this side. It's a tight spot. Just ease back and I'll let you know when you're clear.”

Jess forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She didn't speak again until she was safely heading for the exit, and then she chose her words carefully, fishing but trying not to be obvious about it. “Looks like you're going to a party,” she remarked, nodding toward the box in which a small cake was revealed beneath a clear window.

“Hardly. The cake and flowers are for an old woman in my apartment building. Take a right,” he instructed as she reached the exit, then waited until she was safely in traffic before continuing. “I found her crying this morning on the stoop. It's her birthday, and apparently there's no one left who remembers. Her husband died years ago, and she hasn't heard from her son in a long time. So I thought I'd surprise her with flowers and share a piece of cake with her. It's not much, and it won't make up for her being alone, but
maybe it will brighten her day for a few minutes at least. Take a left.”

Jess did as instructed, still processing the information Scott had just relayed. Though his tone had been low-key and matter-of-fact, his kindness was anything but, she conceded. He'd gone out of his way to remember a lonely old woman's birthday, spending money he obviously couldn't spare to give her a few moments of happiness. To let her know that someone cared.

Jess wasn't exactly surprised by Scott's thoughtfulness and generosity. He had always lavished gifts on her and Elizabeth—especially as the demands of his job left him unable to give them what they really wanted: his time. But his gifts had been well within their budget, given out of their excess. This gesture, on the other hand, was a gift out of his need. A living illustration of the widow's mite, Jess realized, deeply touched. Even more remarkable, it was for a woman who was practically a stranger, whose life had no connection to his beyond simple human compassion.

“This is it, the red one,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

Jess hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings during the short drive to his apartment, but now she took a good look as she pulled up to the curb. And that's when she realized just how deep Scott's need was. The neighborhood he called home was not one she would feel comfortable in at high noon, let alone after dark. There was an abandoned building on the corner, and the apartments were housed in four-family flats that looked as if they'd been built at the
turn of the century—and hadn't been updated since. Litter was strewn about on an abandoned lot across the street, and the lawn of the redbrick flat Scott occupied had more bare patches than grass. “Seedy” was the best way to describe the setting. “Dangerous” was a close second.

Jess stared at the neighborhood, appalled. This wasn't Scott. Not the Scott she'd married, whose wants were simple but who worked hard to provide his family with a decent standard of living. And certainly not the Scott who'd gone to prison, who had valued designer jeans and fine wines. Dear God, how could he live in these conditions? She turned to him in dismay, speechless, her shock clearly reflected in her eyes.

As their gazes met, Scott was instantly sorry he'd taken Jess up on her offer of a ride. The opportunity to spend additional time in her company—at
her
request—had simply been too tempting to refuse. But he should have anticipated her reaction. Should have known that it would be very similar to Karen's. His sister was
still
on him about the apartment, urging him to find other lodging. Offering to send him money. But as he kept telling her, it was good enough for now. In time, when he could afford it, he'd move. Until then, he'd sit tight and make the best of it. But Jess didn't need to hang around in a place like this, he decided, reaching for the door.

“Thanks again for the lift. And have a great time in Texas.” He had already opened the door when her voice stopped him.

“Scott, wait. I…I didn't know that you…this is…”
She glanced again at the shabby surroundings and her voice died.

“Serviceable,” he supplied evenly.

“Awful,” she corrected him vehemently, the revulsion in her eyes clear.

“It beats a cell, Jess,” he said quietly.

The comment jolted her, and she stared at him in stunned silence as their gazes connected and held. For the first time she had a sense at some primal level of the horror of incarceration. Of being in a place where you had no control over your existence, where you were told what to do and when to do it, where doors clanged shut behind you every night, leaving you to face your private demons alone in the darkness of a cold, sterile cell. Suddenly she understood how, in light of that existence, this squalid apartment would be an improvement. And all at once, a place in her heart that had long been numb and lifeless began to stir.

Her throat constricted with emotion and she swallowed with difficulty. “Scott, I had no idea. I'm…” She stopped abruptly, realizing in confusion that she'd almost said, “I'm sorry.” But why was she sorry? Hadn't she believed all along that no punishment was too severe for what he'd done to Elizabeth?

Scott saw the parade of emotions pass across Jess's eyes. Compassion. Sympathy. Confusion. But no coldness. Or hate. Not this time. Which was progress as far as he was concerned. And so was her shock at his living conditions, he suddenly realized. After all, if she didn't have
some
feelings for him, she wouldn't care where he lived—would she?

“It's okay, Jess,” he said with a gentle smile, his heart suddenly lighter. “I'm fine here. Really. I'm free. And I'm a person again, not a number. That makes any place seem like a palace. Trust me.”

Jess didn't trust anything at the moment. Particularly her emotions. She had a sudden, desperate need to get away from here, to think this through alone, with no distractions. Especially the one sitting next to her.

“I have to go,” she said in a choked voice, struggling to hold her tattered emotions together.

He studied her for a moment, his gaze penetrating and probing, and then he nodded. “I understand.” Without further delay, he opened the door and stepped outside. “Thanks again, Jess. Take care.”

She had no voice left to respond. She simply put the car in gear and drove away as quickly as she could, her stomach churning. But as she turned the corner, she couldn't resist the urge to look back. Scott was still standing where she had left him, watching her car disappear, holding the cake and flowers that would brighten an old woman's day. A ragged sob rose in her throat, and she had to blink rapidly to clear the sudden tears that blurred her vision. This was
not
the outcome she had expected from her encounter with Scott. Instead of helping her sort through her emotions, it had left her more confused than ever—and certain of only two things.