The Color of Hope (The Color of Heaven Series) (22 page)

“I was adopted fairly quickly into an amazing family,” I assured him. “My parents were wonderful, and I have a brother and a sister – also adopted. We’re all very close.”

“What about Nadia?” he asked. “Did she find a good home as well?”

I reached for the dishcloth and slowly wiped the counter. “She wasn’t adopted until the issue with her heart was resolved, and that took a few years. But she wasn’t as lucky as me. Her parents split up when she was nine, and she hasn’t talked to her father since. He had a drinking problem. Her mom passed away a few years ago, so she has no family now.”

“Except for you,” he said.

Folding the dishcloth over the side of the sink, I found myself staring blankly at the faucet for a long time. Then I felt Jacob’s hand on my arm.

“I didn’t even know she existed until last year,” I told him, “but somehow, we both ended up working in LA, a few blocks away from each other. How’s that for a coincidence?”

Jacob’s hand clasped mine. His touch was warm and soothing.

“People started making weird comments,” I said, “asking how I could be working in two places at once. It was kind of freaky. I mean... what are the odds?”

“It must have been a shock to meet her for the first time,” Jacob said.

“Yes.”

I had trouble speaking after that. I felt emotionally spent.

“Do you want to go sit down?” he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the living room. “I could light a fire.”

“That would be nice.” I picked up my wine glass. He brought what was left of the bottle to the other room, and set it on the coffee table.

While I removed my sandals and curled up on the comfortable white sofa, he struck a match and lit the kindling, which had already been laid out on the grate. He remained seated on an ottoman, keeping an eye on the fire, nudging it with the poker and adding bunches of crumpled newspaper to help it along.

My body relaxed into the sofa cushions as I watched the flames snap and sizzle into a roaring blaze.

“I love the smell of a wood fire this time of year,” I said.

Jacob stood. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, this is lovely.”

He took a seat beside me, facing me with his arm along the back of the sofa.

I sipped my wine. For a long while I watched the flames dance in the grate and thought about our conversation in the kitchen.

“I know it’s not my fault,” I said, referring to what happened to Nadia and me when we became orphans, “but whenever I think about the life she had, compared to mine––”

“You feel guilty,” he finished for me, and I looked deep into those absorbing green eyes.

“Yes. When I met her for the first time, it was a shock to my system, to see my exact likeness in another person, but I soon realized we had very little in common, because our life experiences had shaped us into different people.”

“How so?”

“My parents had money, so they were able to send me to good schools, give me the best of everything, but it was more than that. I always felt loved. I never worried that they would abandon me, or that I would be left alone. I didn’t live with that fear. Nadia didn’t have any of that stability. At one point, she and her mother were so poor, they were evicted from their apartment and had to live in their car.”

Jacob took hold of my hand again, and I wondered why I was the one having dinner with this amazing man; why I was the one being comforted and listened to, while Nadia was at home. Alone again.

“Now she has another heart condition because of some random virus,” I said.

“But she also has
you
,” he said. “The fact that you found each other is a gift and a miracle. It’s something to be grateful for.”

That should have been my cue to tell Jacob the truth... that Nadia and I were still strangers to each other –
worse
than strangers – because of what happened with Rick. Any emotional bond that might have existed between us had been broken. I felt no love in my heart, only a sense of duty to care for her in her time of need. There was no intimacy, no true personal connection. Our conversations were superficial, and I didn’t feel that I could trust her, or be my honest self around her. My guard was always up.

I hadn’t even told her I was coming here tonight because I believed that if she knew, she would begin flirting with Jacob – because I thought, on some unconscious level she wanted to be me. She wanted to possess what was mine, and if I let my guard down again, she would steal all the bounty from my life.

It was crazy, I knew. It sounded like something out of an old gothic novel.

I wasn’t proud of my lack of love for Nadia, my twin sister, especially in her condition, and I couldn’t bring myself to reveal that to Jacob. I didn’t want him to think me callous or selfish.

And I didn’t want to
be
either of those things. I hoped I would eventually find a way to work through it.

“What about you?” I asked, desperate to change the subject. “Any brothers or sisters?”

He leaned forward to pour himself more wine. “I have a younger sister who lives in Minnesota. She’s a reporter. She’s married to a civil engineer.”

“But
you’re
not married...”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. I was once, though.”

“What happened?”

Looking down at our clasped hands, he entwined his fingers through mine. “She died in the twin towers.”

A small breath escaped my lungs. “Oh, my God... I’m so sorry.”

He nodded to acknowledge my sympathies. “So I know all about guilt, Diana,” he said, lifting his gaze, “because I was the one who brought her to New York. She was happy where we were before and didn’t want to move to a big city, but she was supportive of my career, and she made that sacrifice for me.” He turned to look at the fire. “She was a financial analyst. Worked on one of the top floors. She couldn’t get out.”

Though I was curious, I didn’t want to pry into the details of her death and force him to revisit that time. If he wanted to tell me more about it, he would.

“It took a long time to get over that,” he said. “I was angry.”

“You don’t seem angry now.”

He tilted his head to the side. “No, I’m not.”

“What changed for you?”

He was quiet a moment, staring at the fire while I admired the way the light reflected in his eyes.

“It’s been more than ten years,” he said, “so I had plenty of time to wallow in my grief. Actually, I was shackled to it. My only escape was the hospital, which forced me to focus on something outside myself. I had to stay focused, or people could die.” He paused and looked at me. “Sometimes, people
did
die, not from anything I did wrong, but because it’s a fact of life. And I wasn’t the only one in the world who lost someone that day.”

“No... It was a terrible day.”

He looked down at our hands again. “I know it’s a cliché,” he said, “but life is short and death comes to us all. So what’s the point of living, if we’re not going to experience real joy? At least some of the time,” he added. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t grieve or ever be unhappy – that’s part of living, too. But we can’t forget the other side of it when times are bleak.”

“What other side?” I asked.

“The beautiful side.”

A log shifted in the grate, and sparks flew up the chimney. I became aware of Jacob’s hand on my shoulder, toying with a lock of my hair. I felt a rush of desire. I wanted to be closer to him.

“I’m sure you’re right,” I softly said. “I
know
you are, but sometimes we get so caught up in everything that’s wrong in our lives, that we can’t see what’s good. I suppose we shut down to it. And it’s all about feelings, isn’t it? It’s about letting yourself feel euphoric about something...
anything
. It’s just so hard to feel joyful when your whole world is collapsing around you.”

As we sat quietly in the glow of the fire, I wondered what Nadia was doing in that moment. It was getting rather late.

“You should come fishing with me,” Jacob said. His hand was still moving through my hair. His touch caused a tingling sensation along the side of my neck. I shrugged my shoulder to gently trap his hand beneath my cheek, and closed my eyes. He cupped the side of my face, and I kissed his palm.

“Will you come?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

My eyes fluttered open, and I became aware of a deep emotional longing inside of me – though it was sensual, too, because I felt it in my nerve endings, like an electric current, and in the pit of my belly, like a thrilling wave of anticipation. I was still trying to make sense of it, because it was both sexual and soulful. I wanted to
know
Jacob, to know everything about him.

“Will I have to put a worm on a hook?” I asked, my eyes trained on his.

He grinned at me. “Not if you don’t want to.”

I was overwhelmingly aware of the rapid beat of my pulse and the rush of blood through my body.

“Then I would love to go fishing with you,” I said.

He smiled again. “How about Saturday? If you don’t mind getting up before dawn.”

“
Before
dawn?” I replied with a note of teasing in my voice. “Sounds like you take fishing very seriously.”

He nodded. “I take everything seriously.”

His gaze dipped to my mouth, and I thought perhaps he might kiss me. My heart began to race at the prospect of it, but then he sat back and withdrew his hand from the crook of my neck.

“I should get going,” I said. “I don’t like leaving Nadia alone for too long these days.”

It wasn’t a lie. I felt a constant need to check in with her and make sure she was all right.

We stood up and moved to the foyer. Jacob pulled my leather jacket from the closet and held it up for me. I slid my arms into the sleeves. Then he reached for his own jacket.

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked.

“I’m walking you home,” he replied, as if it was obvious.

I wasn’t about to admit that I had driven my car around the corner to his place, and besides that, I’d had too much wine to get behind the wheel. So I accepted his offer, and we held hands as we walked leisurely from his house to mine. We were at my front door in less than five minutes.

We said goodnight, and he kissed me on the cheek – which left me quite hungry for something more.

P
ERHAPS
J
ACOB WAS
hungry, too, because he texted me the following morning and asked me what time I’d be at Starbucks.

I texted back.

In twenty minutes.


We arranged to meet at the same time each morning for the next two weeks. Instead of getting our coffees to go, we arrived early enough so that we had time to sit at a table and chat.

On the second day, he asked me about the relationship I’d mentioned the first time we met there.

“How long were you together?” he asked.

“For a few years,” I replied, “while I was living in LA. His name was Rick and he was a sports agent.”

Jacob raised his eyebrows. “That sounds interesting. You said it didn’t work out. Can I ask what happened?”

I fiddled with the cardboard sleeve around my coffee cup. “I caught him cheating on me. We were at a casino resort in Las Vegas and he went missing for a while, then I found him on an elevator kissing another woman.”

I don’t know why I kept the rest of the story from Jacob – the part Nadia had played in the end of my relationship. Part of me wanted to believe that I was protecting her, because I didn’t want Jacob to think badly of her. I wanted him to save her life. But perhaps I felt that anything Nadia did reflected poorly on me as well, because I was her twin. I certainly didn’t want Jacob to think I was the cheating type.

“That must have been rough,” he said.

“It was, but it was for the best,” I said. “We were having troubles before that anyway.”

“What kind of troubles?”

When I hesitated, he held up a hand. “Sorry. I’m asking too many questions.”

“No. It’s fine,” I replied. But it took me a moment to figure out how to explain it. “We wanted different things out of life,” I finally said. “I wanted marriage, eventually, and children. But Rick wasn’t keen on a lifelong commitment. Don’t get me wrong. He was wonderful for the first few years, and very devoted. But as soon as I wanted to talk about marriage... that was too much for him. He’ll probably always be a serial monogamist. He enjoys falling in love. He just doesn’t enjoy
staying
in love. And children?” I shook my head. “Not for him.”

Jacob reached across the table, raised my hand to his lips, and kissed it. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“No, because if it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

He kissed my hand again.

On another morning, Jacob asked about my parents.

“They’ve been married for almost forty years,” I told him. Then I squinted through the bright, sunny window. “Sometimes I wonder if they’re an anomaly, because they’re still so happy and in love. They go for walks and hold hands, and my dad still kisses my mom every morning when he leaves for work, and every night when he comes home.”