Chapter 3 #3
Candace turned back. "And you think that someone is inside."
Jen held her gaze. "I think someone has access to people who are."
For a moment, neither woman moved.
The coffee maker clicked behind them, an absurdly domestic sound in a conversation that suddenly felt anything but.
Candace reached for a muffin and broke it in half. "Eat something."
Jen blinked. "What?"
"You came here to tell me you think someone near us may be compromised, manipulated, or ambitious enough to become useful to our enemies. Eat something before you say the rest."
Despite herself, Jen laughed. "That's your response?"
"No," Candace said. "That's me buying five seconds to decide whether I want to throw this muffin or eat it."
Jen smiled. Candace had a unique way of setting someone at ease, particularly at the most stressful moments.
Candace slid half the muffin toward her. "Tell me everything."
Westport, Connecticut
Marianne slid a cup of coffee across the table to Jameson. "I really envy you," she said.
Jameson chuckled. "You mean you envy my coffee."
"No. I envy you drinking that coffee."
"How are you feeling?" Jameson asked.
"Really pregnant," Marianne replied.
"I'm sorry?" Jameson joked.
Marianne gave her a look.
"Want to talk about it?" Jameson asked.
"Sure. If I had any idea what 'it' might be."
Jameson sipped her coffee and set the mug down. "Marianne?"
Marianne sighed. "I'm okay, JD. I know you're worried about Jonah."
"I'll see Jonah tonight. I'm not worried. I know Jonah differently than you or your mom. I'm here to help you with things this weekend." Jameson took a breath. "Why don't you let me stay with your dad for a few hours this afternoon? You can come back here and spend time with Maddie."
"You want to change the Secret Service's plan? You're spending too much time with Mom."
"They'll manage. And stop changing the subject. If you'd rather, I can stay here with Maddie?—"
"No. I feel terrible that you felt you needed to come help me at all."
Jameson nodded.
"I'm serious, JD."
Jameson smiled. "You are your mother's daughter."
"Huh?"
"Why would you feel terrible about me helping?" Jameson asked. "Of course I want to help."
"I don't mean... I mean, I'm glad you're here."
"I know. I also know you feel like you should be able to handle everything."
"No."
Jameson tilted her head.
Marianne chuckled lightly. "I know I can't handle everything alone. Scott's been great. It’s hard, JD. I want to say I miss Dad. I do miss him.”
Jameson shook her head. "But you’re relieved to have time back.”
Marianne rubbed her eyes.
"You are like your mom," Jameson said. "Don't get me wrong; you're all a lot like her. But you think you need to shoulder things all by yourself. You can miss your father and still be grateful to breathe."
Marianne let out a long breath. Over the years, Jameson had become her closest friend—more like the older sister she never had than a stepparent, though neither of them ever described their friendship that way.
"Marianne?"
"Maybe I do. Try to shoulder things."
Jameson nodded.
"You and Mom took care of everything after Rick died. I just?—"
Jameson smiled. "We didn't take care of everything."
Marianne raised an eyebrow.
"We didn't," Jameson repeated. "We helped."
"You were raising my kids for nearly a year, JD."
"No. We took the lead for a little while. That's all. And that was never a burden, Marianne. Not for your mom and certainly not for me."
Marianne smiled. Jameson enjoyed a close relationship with all of her grandchildren. She doted on them all, and every one of them adored her. But she had always shared something special with Spencer.
"I know," Marianne said.
"Do you?"
"Yes."
"But?" Jameson challenged.
"But this is a different time, JD. You and Mom have enough?—"
"Don't say we have enough to deal with."
"You do."
“Everyone has enough to deal with,” Jameson said, “without needing to handle grief. You know that better than most people. Our circumstance is different. That’s all. It doesn’t change?—”
“It changes everything,” Marianne said. She held up a hand. “It does, JD. You can’t run to our houses—me, Jonah, Shell—every time one of our kids has a mishap or one of us is struggling to juggle life.”
“No, we can’t,” Jameson agreed. “And we don’t. This isn’t an ordinary time.”
“JD—”
“Marianne, stop. Please stop. I’m here because I want to be here.”
Marianne smiled. “I know.”
“I hope so.”
“I do know,” Marianne assured her.
“Now, come on,” Jameson said. “Tell me the truth. How are you?”
“Tired.”
Jameson nodded. “That’s not easy for you to admit.”
“No. I guess it isn’t.”
“And let me guess; you’re telling everyone you’re fine.”
“Because I am. I’m just?—”
“Tired. I got it.”
“It’s hard, JD. It’s like I suddenly don’t know what to do. I should be grateful to have more time with the kids?—"
Jameson nodded. “You feel guilty for feeling guilty.”
Marianne chuckled.
“I also know losing your dad has triggered memories.”
“You mean about Rick.”
Jameson nodded.
“It has,” Marianne admitted.
“I’d say that’s to be expected.”
“I couldn’t help Rick. I couldn’t ask him anything or talk to him about things.”
“No. But you did help your dad,” Jameson said.
“You sound like my mother and yours.”
Jameson chuckled. “Well, don’t tell either of them I said this, but I’ve learned to listen to them.”
Marianne laughed. “Your not-so-secret is safe with me.”
Jameson smiled.
“I don’t know, JD. Jonah’s all but disappeared since dad died. He doesn’t call. It’s like he was part of my life every week and now he’s just… Gone. Like I lost them both.”
Jameson noted the sadness in Marianne’s voice. “I know that hurts.”
“It shouldn’t. It does.”
“Why shouldn’t it?” Jameson asked. “Have you tried talking to Jonah?”
“I’ve called. He’s just distant. Mom says I should press a little harder.”
Jameson shrugged. “Maybe. Only if that’s what feels right for you.”
Marianne blinked. “I thought you said you learned to take motherly advice?”
“I said I’ve learned to listen to them. I didn’t say the way they would handle something is always the right way for me. Maybe what my mom would do, or what your mom would say, isn’t the best way for you to interact with Jonah. That’s your decision.”
“Can I be honest?”
“I hope so.”
“My father had so much baggage, JD. With Jonah and Shell—with Mom.”
“Mm. Not as much with you.”
“No. Not as much with me.”
“But?” Jameson pressed.
“I let it go. His affairs. The fact that he was absent most of our lives. Even when he was home, he was just… absent most of the time. I made him interact with me. I know that.”
"Marianne, your dad loved all of you. You know that's true."
"Yeah, I do. Everyone thinks I had this amazing relationship with him. I did. But that took years, JD. And I did most of the work." Marianne took a breath. "Maybe I just feel like?—"
"Like you're tired of doing most of the work?"
Marianne shrugged. “I chased Dad. I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing my brother to have a relationship.”
"Yeah," Jameson said softly. "I get it."
"You do?"
"I think so. Not with my parents. Believe me, I know how lucky I am."
Marianne smiled. "You are lucky."
"I know. My parents aren't just good people; they are also terrific parents. But I know what it's like to do most of the work with someone close."
Marianne nodded. "You mean Scott and Craig."
"And my brothers. It wasn't always that way," Jameson said.
"Do you still feel that way?"
Jameson sighed.
"JD, you should talk to Scott. I think he tries to give you space."
Jameson shook her head.
"I know it's strange for you both. Scott and I being married complicates things a little."
"I wouldn't say that," Jameson said.
"I would. He's not going to come to you to talk about our problems—not that any of our issues are marriage-threatening material. And I think he feels like you have enough to deal with."
"Everybody seems to feel that way," Jameson said.
"JD?"
"Marianne, everyone in this family walks on eggshells with me these days. Even Shell!"
Marianne laughed. "I doubt that."
"Don't. It's true. No one asks for my help. No one calls to?—"
"JD." Marianne's expression softened. "I'm sorry."
"What? Why?"
"Spencer wants to call you every day."
"He can."
Marianne smiled.
"You can, too," Jameson said. "So can Scott."
"You should tell him that."
Jameson raised her brows.
"Okay," Marianne said. "I get it. I probably should tell Jonah how I feel.”
"Only if it feels right."
"Thanks," Marianne said.
"For what?"
"I think you know. I just need someone to vent my feelings to sometimes. Without getting advice."
"I get it."
"I know you do. It'll be good for you to see Claire tomorrow."
Jameson smiled.
"I envy you a little," Marianne said.
"Huh?"
"God forgive me, JD. You know I'm thrilled about this baby."
"Yes. I also know you had hoped to be headed back to work."
"I just..." Marianne looked down at the table. "I could use some friends outside of this family and playgroups."
"I understand," Jameson said. "What about El?"
"I need to make a bigger effort. You know, to spend time with her."
"You should. I think you could both use someone outside of family to spend time with. We all need that."
Marianne nodded. She had a few things in common with Eleana. They'd both lost a husband unexpectedly, and they were both expecting unexpectedly.
Maybe that was reason enough to call.
Or maybe, Marianne thought, it was reason enough not to wait until she knew exactly what to say.
"Isn't that why you invited El and Claire over tomorrow?"
Marianne smiled. "It is. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"You and Claire are close."
"Yeah, I think so. Outside of family, I think Claire is my closest friend. Dana is still my best friend, but?—"
"I get it. Dana is one of us."
"Mm-hm."
"Is everything okay with Dana?"
"Dana is okay."
"JD?"
"I just think part of the reason she came to work in my office is to give Candace a little space."
"Why?" Marianne asked.
"Your mom is carrying a lot of guilt about Dana's injuries, Marianne."
"That wasn't Mom's fault."
"No. That doesn't change how she feels, though."
"I know Dana is like a daughter to Mom."