Page 24 of Forever My Soldier

“How can you say that?” she all but shrieked.Not the reaction I was going for.

“There hasn’t been anyone else. There never will be. It’s you. Always has been. Always will be,” I repeated, hoping this time she got it.

She exhaled. “If you don’t understand why we can’t get back together by now, then I don’t know how to help you.”

“Explain it to me then because I don’t understand it. I think we belong together. In fact, I know it.”

She mumbled something under her breath. “Stop! Just stop! When you left, life went on. I moved on,” she said. “I’m not going down this road again. I will not let myself, do you understand me?” She was raising her voice now and this wasn’t how I wanted this evening to go, so I backed off.

When neither of us spoke, Jenna took my jacket off and handed it to me. I took it and slipped it back on. “Can you take me home? Please,” she ordered.

I nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”

On the ride back, her arms may have been wrapped around me, but there was no warmth in her embrace. She seemed a million miles away after our exchange. I knew she was hiding something from me and closing herself off because of it, but there was nothing I could do about it. I hoped in time she felt comfortable telling me what was going on, but until then I wasn’t giving up on her, us, even if that was what she thought she wanted.

Chapter Nine

Jenna

Walking into myparents’ house always did feel like walking into a grand ballroom at a wedding venue. It was a Tuscan-style mansion that they bought for just under a couple million when I was in high school.

It had more bedrooms than we ever needed and nearly just as many bathrooms. Then there was the wine cellar, Dad’s office, and Mother’s gym, where her personal trainer met her every morning at six a.m. on the dot to make sure she was in tip-top shape. Except on the weekends when she went to yoga with her friends. And, of course, there was the sprawling backyard patio where she hosted so many DAR meetings, I’d lost count. Nothing about their lives had changed since I was in high school, and I didn’t seeing it changing anytime soon.

With marble flooring and bright white walls, the entire house had a timeless feel to it that I appreciated. My favorite room, though, had always been the living room, where Mother insisted on a gold-leaf ceiling, which she got.

Then there were the stairs. Oh, how many times I ran up and down that staircase. It was a luxurious double staircase that made the place look intimidating to even the most affluent of guests. And that was, I thought, my mother’s intention. Life in my mother’s world was far from simple and she made sure that the lives of those around her were just as complicated, if not miserable, too. There was this one memory that haunted me as I stood in my last childhood home, if you could even call this place that. It was the first time I brought Deacon home with me, hoping for a casual study-slash-make-out session, but she had other ideas.

“Just what exactly do you think you’re doing?” My mother’s voice was stern, like she demanded to be heard. And she was.

Deacon looked back, dropped my hand, and looked out the corner of his eye toward me. It was his first time in my house, but not the first time he’d met my mother. No, that had happened when he drove me home from school one day in his dad’s Jaguar.

Unrelenting, my mother repeated herself because she didn’t like to be ignored. “Did you not hear me? I asked what you think you’re doing.”

“Deacon and I were just going to study upstairs.”

“You two aren’t even in the same school.” She crossed her arms. “Just how naive do you think I am?”

I think he could tell I wasn’t getting anywhere fast, so he tried to help me out. “Ma’am, we really do plan on studying. Jenna was going to help me with some history dates I have to memorize.”

“You can do that in the living room where you can be seen.” What she didn’t say was we’d most likely be seen by our housekeeper, the third one we had this month. My mother never could keep a housekeeper longer than a week.

I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to stomp my foot on the stairs. Being a petulant teenager was never the right move in this house. I was expected to act like a lady and I knew it. So while I wanted to shout, “I hate you!” instead I simply nodded and laid my books on the coffee table.

“Ma’am.” A woman’s voice brought me out of my reverie. When I blinked rapidly, but didn’t answer, only looked at her, she repeated what I suppose was her earlier question, “Would you like me to take your stuff?”

I passed her my shawl and purse. “Yes, thank you, Greta.” Greta was the current housekeeper. Who knew how much longer she’d last, but I still made a point of learning her name just as I’d done with all the ones who came before her and would of all the ones who came after her.

So distracted by my memories, I’d almost forgotten why I was here. I had to see my father about some drama circling the law firm that had been dropped in my lap. Apparently, one of our associates didn’t feel comfortable talking to human resources, so she came to me with some problems she’d been having with a senior partner.

Before walking away, Greta asked, “Would you like me to let Mr. McAllister know you’ve arrived?”

I happened to know my mother wasn’t home right now. She was having a luncheon with her friends. Another reason why I came now, so I only had to deal with one of my parents. That was usually all it took for my hairs to stand on end. I definitely didn’t need to see two of them at once.

I shook my head, acknowledging her question. “No, Greta, that’s quite all right. I think I’ll just go see him myself. Is he in his office?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to check if he’s on the phone?”

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