13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Sharon
He wants me to go out with him? On a date? Why complicate things? How would his parents feel about their son going out with the babysitter?
The word "okay" is on the tip of my tongue.
When the phone rings, I welcome the distraction, but neither of us makes any attempt to answer it. His gaze is intense and disarming. I love it when he looks at me this way. He's standing close enough to kiss me. Do it, Jon. Kiss me.
"Are you going to answer that?" I ask.
"I'm not moving until you give me an answer."
"You didn't ask me a question."
"You're splitting hairs."
I turn away to keep from touching him. What is happening to me? Why does he have this effect on me?
I answer the phone, "Hello. Linder residence."
"Hi, can I speak to Jonathan?"
It's a woman's voice. Not Mrs. Linder. Not Loren.
"May I ask who's calling?"
"This is his girlfriend, Susan."
My heart sinks, and my skin prickles. My stomach turns, and my mouth goes dry.
"Sure," I say. "Can you please hold?"
"Yes, thank you."
"It's for you," I tell Jon, handing him the receiver.
"Who is it?" he asks.
"Your girlfriend," I say dryly.
He smiles, not a slight smile, but a big, wide, white smile. He takes the phone from my clammy hand and mouths a "thank you."
I wipe my hands on the front of my jeans and pick up my glass of lemonade. I take a drink, never taking my eyes off of him.
"Hi, Susan!"
There’s a pause.
"Hey, yeah. Can I call you back?"
Long Pause.
"Yeah, just give me a few minutes."
Even longer pause that grinds on my last nerve.
"I'll call you right back. I promise."
Of course, he promises. Ugh!
I watch as he takes a pen and pad out of a drawer and jots down what I'm sure is her phone number. He tears the piece of paper off the pad and folds it before slipping it into his pocket.
When he hangs up the phone, he turns around and takes two long strides towards me, coming so close I can detect the scent of his cologne.
He leans down for what I think is going to be a kiss. I make no attempt to stop it. I close my eyes, waiting for his lips to touch mine, but no, his lips graze my ear instead as he whispers, "That feeling you have in the pit of your stomach… it's jealousy."
I pull away as if a hot flame has just scorched my skin.
"I'm not jealous!"
He doesn't back away but looks directly into my eyes and adds, "It's what I've been experiencing since you agreed to go out with Patrick. It's all I can think about."
The fact that he used Patrick's whole name lets me know he's not joking.
"I'm not the jealous type," I say matter-of-factly.
"Neither am I."
When he walks away and heads down the hall towards the office, I watch him and debate whether to throw something at him or beg him not to go.
Five minutes later, when I walk by the office to head upstairs, I hear him talking to Susan on the phone.
Our bags are by the front door when I return downstairs, but Jon is gone.
***
Jon hasn't stopped by since Sunday. He called later that night and talked to Noah, and again last night, but it was like we were strangers. There was no attempt at small talk, just all business. Professional, just like I told him it should be.
When the Linders come home on Tuesday afternoon, I feel guilty because their oldest son is not here to welcome them home, but they don't seem to notice. Maybe he already talked to them and told them he wouldn't be here.
When I'm upstairs helping Mrs. Linder put away her things, she mentions they have dinner plans.
"David's business partner and his wife are here visiting their daughter. We're meeting them for dinner in Cold Spring. You're welcome to join us."
"Thank you for inviting me," I say, "but I think I'll stay here. I have to call my family and friends in California if that's okay."
"Sharon," Mrs. Linder begins. "You never have to ask for permission to use the phone or anything else in this house. This is your home, Sweetheart."
"Thank you," I say. "And also, thank you for thinking of me, but I'll stay home."
I can't help but wonder if Jon will be joining them for dinner, too. What am I thinking? Of course he is.
After they leave, I pick up the phone and call Loren to ask her if she wants to join me for dinner.
"Why don't you come by, Honey? I made stuffed bell peppers and rice pilaf for dinner.”
I had planned to make a salad for dinner to go with the leftover fried green tomatoes I made last night. I put everything back in the refrigerator and set out on the three-minute walk to Loren’s.
"Knock-knock," I say when I reach her back door.
"Come in! I'm on the phone!"
I walk in and wait for her in the kitchen. It sounds like she's on the phone with her son.
"I will move when I'm ready, Son. Don't pressure me. I have Jon, and now Sharon and the Linders. I'm not all by myself. There's no reason to worry."
I feel weird listening in on her conversation, but there's nowhere to go, and I can't just leave.
"That was my boy," she says, walking into the kitchen. "I'm sure you heard. He wanted me in California yesterday."
"I'm sure they worry about you, but you're right. You have us."
"Thank you, Honey," she says, wrapping her arm around my waist.
I don't know exactly what's happening, but I suddenly feel sad, and I start crying.
"What's wrong?!" Loren asks.
"I don't know," I say. "I'm sorry. My grandma used to throw her arm around me like you just did. I miss her."
All of a sudden, I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. I think about Dad, Grandma, Mom, Jimmy, Betty, and the fact that I haven't had a motherly hug in years. I also think about Jon and how much his distancing from me hurts.
"Come here, Honey," Loren says, throwing her arms around me, sensing that I'm about to have a meltdown, and there's nothing either of us can do to stop it.
"I think I'm just a little overwhelmed by everything."
"If you need to have a good cry, go ahead. I'll get the tissue box."
That makes me laugh through my tears.
For the next two hours, she sits beside me like Grandma used to do and lets me talk.
"Dad was an only child, so I have no one on his side."
"What about your mom?"
"She has family, but I never met them. She had a falling out with her parents before I was born. I think they live in Washington, but I'm not sure.
"Your parents never talked about them?"
"I know they didn't like Dad, and when Mom got pregnant and they decided to marry, her parents disowned her. There might be an uncle, maybe some cousins, but I'm not sure.”
"You're not curious?"
"It's too late to try and make connections with people who never wanted me. I'm as much a stranger to them as they are to me. What would be the point?"
She nods and grows quiet. I look at my engagement ring and twist it around my finger.
"Are you ready to talk about Jon?"
"Why? What did he tell you?"
"He hasn't told me anything, but he hasn't been back to visit you in two days."
"He told me he was jealous because I accepted Patrick's invitation to go to the farmers’ market on Saturday."
"How do you feel about Jon, Honey? Do you like him?"
"I do."
Saying it out loud opens the floodgates again, and I start to cry.
"He's so mad at me. He hasn't even come over to see Noah. Poor little kid. It's not his fault."
"I think he did it more to give you your space than he did to avoid you."
"I don't think so. He's hurt because I told him he was being unreasonable and that if he was going to have an issue with my having a male friend, we should keep things professional."
"Why did you agree to go out with Patrick?"
"He's sweet."
"But he's not Jon."
"No," I concede. "He's not Jon."
"Can I give you some advice?" Loren's serious tone gives me pause.
"Sure."
"You must sit down with Jon and let him tell you exactly what happened with Jimmy."
"Loren, you too?!"
"If it weren't important, I wouldn't be mentioning it."
"I know all I need to know. Jimmy drowned. He didn't exit the water vehicle in time, and it sank to the bottom of the ocean, taking him with it."
"Oh, Honey."
I reach for the tissue box and find it empty.
"Here, let me go get another one."
"No," I say. "I'm okay. No more tears."
Loren gives my hand a little squeeze. I can smell her perfume—it smells like jasmine and rose. I reach for her and hug her tight.
"Thank you for dinner and for letting me cry. I feel much better. I should probably go before Jon returns. Plus, I still have to call Mom, Betty, and Jimmy's parents."
"Do Jimmy's parents know you work for Jon's parents?"
"No. I haven't mentioned the connection between Jon and Jimmy. Why?"
"I was just wondering. Will you tell them?"
Her question surprises me.
"Should I? Is there a reason why I should mention it?"
"Sharon, please talk to Jon."
"Okay, Loren. I'll talk to Jon, but first, he has to be talking to me again."
***
Walking back to the house, Loren's persistence that I talk to Jon about Jimmy gnaws at me. I file it in the back of my mind to revisit it later.
"Sharon, we're so glad you called," Mrs. Bowman's voice at the other end is so comforting, I could cry again.
"I'm sorry I didn't call on Saturday. The Linders went to New York for the weekend, and I tagged along."
"Linders?" The word comes out almost like a whisper.
"Yes," I say. "David and Elizabeth Linder. They're Noah's parents. My employers."
My heart sinks when I'm met with silence.
"Mrs. Bowman, are you still there?"
"Jimmy's friend was Jonathan Linder. It can't be the same family, can it?"
I can hear the trembling in her voice.
"Mrs. Bowman, are you okay?"
"Sharon, is this the first time you have mentioned the names of the people you work for?"
Why does this feel like a test I must pass?
"Well," I begin, my mouth going dry. "I talked about Noah. He's the boy I watch. But no, I never mentioned his last name."
I can't see her, but I can feel the tension building at the other end of the line.
"You didn't think mentioning you work for the Linders was important?" Her words sound like a reproach more than a question.
"Mrs. Bowman, I—."
"Answer my question." She's angry.
"It never came up," I say honestly. "We were all dealing with the holidays without Jimmy, the insurance claim, and then my graduation. What is going on, Mrs. Bowman?"
"You're right," she says, softening her tone. "I'm sorry."
"Mrs. Bowman, in answer to your question, the Linders are Jonathan's parents."
The silence that proceeds is enough to chill me to the bone.
"Mrs. Bowman?"
"How the hell did you end up working for the Linders?”
This is the first time I've heard Mrs. Bowman speak to me like this.
"Jimmy wrote me a letter that I received after ." I'm careful with my words because I feel Mrs. Bowman is on the brink of tears. "In the letter, he told me Jon's parents were looking for a nanny for their three-year-old."
"Jon? You call him Jon? Are you two friends now?"
"Mrs. Bowman, did I do something wrong?"
"I suggest you talk to Jonathan Linder."
"Okay, but why are you angry at me?"
"I'm not," comes the answer, but I don't believe her. "Listen, thank you for the call. I'm glad you're doing well, taking trips to the big city with Jonathan Linder, of all people."
I can hear the reproach in her voice.
"Mrs. Bowman, is there something I should know?"
"If you don't know by now, it probably wouldn't matter anyway. Goodbye, Sharon."
She hangs up on me. I look at the receiver in my hand, which is now shaking. I'm in complete and utter shock, not understanding what just happened.
My conversation with Mrs. Bowman leaves me perplexed and on edge, but I call Betty anyway because she's waiting for my call.
"I'm getting married!" Betty exclaims as soon as I say hi.
"You're getting married?!"
"Anthony proposed on Saturday. We're getting married in November."
"What happened to waiting until after college?"
"We're in love. Sharon, you have to come. You're my maid of honor. Do you want to be my maid of honor? You're my best friend. Of courser you want to be my maid of honor. Ugh, you should see my engagement ring. It's perfect!"
"I'm so happy for you, Betty!" I exclaim, looking at my ring. "I'm sure it's beautiful."
"You don't sound happy. What's wrong? Sharon?"
"I'm happy," I say before I break down in tears and tell her about my conversation with Mrs. Bowman.
"I thought Jonathan was Jimmy's friend," she says. "Why would your working for his parents upset her?"
"I don't know," I say, wiping my eyes in frustration. "I have to talk to Jon and find out why Jimmy's parents don't like him. The few times Jimmy mentioned him to me were all positive. Jon was his best friend in boot camp."
"Maybe that's it," she says. "Maybe she feels threatened by the relationship you've developed with Jon. Their son is gone. You've moved cross country with a new family and a new man."
"It's not like that!" I exclaim.
"I know that!" she says. "I'm just throwing out theories."
"She told me I should talk to Jon almost as if talking to him is going to reveal something that will show me what a horrible thing I've done and the mistake I've made by working for this family and befriending him."
"How are things going with Jon?" Her tone is teasing.
"He kissed me."
"What?! When? How? And by how, I mean how was it?!"
"Stop," I laugh. "Let me tell you."
"That's so tragic and so incredibly romantic," she says when I tell her the kiss came after Jon's nightmare. "But, no, really," she adds. "How was it?"
Betty is the only person I can truly confide in. I keep nothing from her, so I tell her.
"It was intense, passionate, thrilling, and oh, so good. I felt it from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. My knees got weak, and inside, I felt an explosion of sensations I'd never felt before. I melted in his arms."
"Don't hold back, girl," she laughs. "Really, how was it?"
"Betty, I work for his parents. How inappropriate would it be for their son to start dating one of their employees?"
"Dating? Are you going to start seeing this guy? Well, now we know why Mrs. Bowman doesn't like him."
"She doesn't know."
"She's a mom," she says. "They know everything. She probably heard it in the tone of your voice. The second you said Jon , she probably pictured you two making out."
"No," I say, "It was more than that. As much as I hate to think about it, I must talk to Jon about Jimmy. It's time for me to know exactly what happened."
"I'm sorry," Betty says. "I know you were trying to avoid it, but if you like Jon and there's something there, don't leave any stone unturned."
"He has an ex-girlfriend who just moved here to be close to him."
"Oh, oh. That sure complicates things."
"And I'm going on a date with a guy I met at the bank."
"What? Wait, I thought you were going out with Jon."
"His name is Patrick. He's really sweet, and he asked me out. I don't want to date Jon, so I said yes."
"Sharon! You hussy. I didn't think you had it in you."
"I don't."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. But first, I have to talk to Jon. Who's not speaking to me right now."
"Good, Lord, woman. What the heck is going on with you?"
"He's mad because I'm going for a walk at a farmers’ market with Patrick on Saturday. I agreed to go out with Patrick after Jon told me he has feelings for me. He asked me to cancel my date with Patrick and go out with him instead."
"Wow, that sounds so messy and so romantic."
"Betty?"
"Yes."
"Can we not talk about my messy life? Tell me about your engagement and your plans for the wedding. That's what's important right now."
"Your wish is my command!" Betty laughs.
***
When the Linders return home after dinner, Jon isn't with them.
I help Noah with his bath, and after he changes into his pajamas, I lie next to him and read him a bedtime story. By the time I leave his room, it's after nine.
I try to convince myself to call home but there's no guarantee Rick will be the one to answer the phone. I decide to put it off until tomorrow, but I do pick up the phone to make one more phone call before bed.
***
"Shay?"
"Hmm?" I hear myself ask. I open my eyes, but my room is pitch dark. The clock reads three-seventeen.
I close my eyes and settle back into my pillow. The knock on the door is real. I immediately sit up in bed.
"Shay? It's me, Elizabeth."
"Mrs. Linder?"
The door opens. Mrs. Linder, wearing pink silk pajamas, reaches for the light switch before stepping into the room.
"Shay, wake up, Sweetie. You have a phone call."
A sickening feeling shoots up my spine and settles in the pit of my stomach. A sensation I've experienced twice before. Once with Dad and then with Jimmy.
"Who is it?" I ask, jumping out of bed and reaching for my robe. My heart is thundering in my chest now. A phone call in the middle of the night is never, ever good.
"He said his name is Rick. It's about your mom."