Jen shot a startled look at Ida.
The older woman shrugged. "Why ruin a great relationship?"
Curious and surprised by the older woman's attitude, Jen decided to keep her opinion to herself.
Later, back in her room, Jen pondered the exchange between Tony and Ida. They were close to the same age, somewhere in their late fifties, Jen figured. They made an odd couple. Ida was of medium height, a bit plump and still very pretty, her face unlined. She had lost her husband to cancer after only a few years of marriage and apparently didn't feel the need to marry again. So she had made a home with Jen's parents.
Tony was flat-out handsome, tall and lean with gleaming dark eyes and a ready smile. And he was one terrific cook. Jen had often wondered why he had never opened his own restaurant. Now she wondered if he stayed with her parents to be with Ida.
While they both had their own quarters in the huge house, Jen knew they slept together in Tony's bed.
Is that what Marsh had in mind for her? The thought wormed its way into her mind, making her restless. Getting out of her chair, Jen began to pace the apartment as if by walking she could find the answers to her dilemma.
Marsh had said he wanted marriage and children.
Without love.
Jen shivered at the chill that snaked down her spine. Whereas Ida and Tony had love without marriage, Jen found herself facing the idea of marriage without love, just like her parents. She couldn't help thinking that Ida had the best deal.
Like other young women, Jen had wanted marriage and children. But she had always dreamed that love would come first. And while she admittedly was head-over-heels in love with Marsh, he was admittedly hot for her body.
Although he did consider her good wife and mother material. But so what? What good was any of that without love?
Sighing, Jen looked around, finding herself in her bedroom. She plopped onto the bed to be comfortable while ruminating.
Fat chance of being comfortable while thinking about Marshall Grainger.
What to do? Was it enough that she loved him? Should she take a gamble and marry Marsh even though she knew he didn't love her? Should she accept his offer-be his wife, keep his books, take care of his home, cook his meals and share his bed and someday, hopefully, bear his children?
Jen felt a twist of longing inside. She so wanted to bear his children...their children.
She was already keeping his home and his books and cooking his meals. Why not take the next leap of faith and pray they could make a go of marriage, even if he didn't love her? They would have the intimacy of the bedroom, and in truth Jen craved his body as much as he seemed to crave hers.
Was that enough for her? Could she make it enough? Was she strong enough to live out her life under those conditions? Jen bit her lower lip. Like a greedy child she wanted it all-all of Marsh, including his love.
But, she reminded herself, Marsh didn't believe in love.
Square one.
This was real life, Jen told herself, heaving a deep sigh. She loved him, and was beginning to doubt that she would ever love any other man. In real life one played the hand that was dealt-it was pointless to wish for it all. That was the stuff of romantic fairy tales, dreamed by teenagers.
She was a woman, a woman in love with a man who wasn't going to love her back.
And it sucked.
* * *
Jen woke the next morning still balanced on the sword of indecision, so to speak. Although she had gone to bed early, she had lain awake most of the night mentally replaying the pros and cons of her present situation.
All things considered, Jen simply could not decide what to do about her relationship with Marsh. She had changed her mind several times already, going from vowing never to see him again to agreeing to marry him. Teetering on the edge was not her style, as a rule. For just about as long as she could recall, Jen had thought through a problem then quickly made a decision, as she had when deciding to accept Marsh's terms of employment.
On reflection, Jen thought what she should have done at the time was jump back into her car and run. Then, having only just met him, she could have gone on her way, personally unaffected by him...except for that strange sizzling sensation that zinged up her arm when they first shook hands.
It had started right away. She should have fled when she still had the strength.
She replayed her conversation with her mother, in which her mother said she was always running away in some way, shape or form. She frowned. Had she been running away her whole life, first from the guy in the school parking lot? Had she run to the hill country after finding her parents in compromising positions with their best friends?
Had she run back to Dallas to escape her feelings for Marsh?
Jen shook her head to dispel the vision in her mind, only to find herself with her thoughts of Marsh again. In time, the memory of his touch would pass, wouldn't it? Gazing at her hand, Jen had an eerie sensation she could still feel him. Maybe the sensation wouldn't have passed.
Somehow she knew she would very likely never forget those delicious sensations.
She got out of bed and headed into the bathroom for a shower. She had to shove thoughts of Marsh aside and pull her act together. Her friends were due to arrive for lunch in less than an hour.
She set the shower at full blast hoping the cold water would clear her thoughts. Maybe time with her "gang" could help her decide what to do about the new man in her life.
It was time to come clean with them about where she'd been all this time-and who she'd been with.
* * *
Her friends were right on time, all five-Kathie, Marcie, Karen, Leslie and Mary-pulling their cars into the driveway one after the other. Jen ran to meet them.
After hugs all around, they made their way into the house. The grilling started almost immediately.
"All right, Jen, where did you run off to?" Kathie demanded, giving Jen a mock stern look.
"I missed you!" Marcie said, putting on a pout.
"Yeah, you sneak, it's time to come clean," Karen added.
"If you'll recall," Jen chided, herding them into the house, "I kept in touch online."
"But you said absolutely nothing," Mary replied.
"There's a man, isn't there?" Leslie asked.
Jen ushered them through the dining room and onto the shaded patio where Tony had laid an elegant setting for seven on the round garden table. Glasses of iced tea were waiting for them.
It was a perfect day for lunch outside. The temperature was in the high seventies with a lovely fall breeze. "Isn't it gorgeous out?" Jen asked.
"Come clean, Jen, now." It was an order from Kathie in her sternest drill-sergeant tones.
"Who are you working for? More to the point, what kind of work are you doing? And why did you leave so mysteriously?" Marcie asked.
"I'm getting suspicious," Mary said, giving her a narrow-eyed look.
"And I'm getting impatient," Karen added.
Jen held her hand up to get them to stop. "I'll tell you all about him-about everything. Let's just sit down first, okay?"
"Is he deliciously handsome and sexy?" The salacious note Leslie had managed to achieve had all of them laughing as they settled at the table. It was like old times, the six of them laughing together as they so often had in college. It was wonderful-just the tonic Jen had been needing.
The laughter came to an abrupt stop when Jen's mother joined them at the table. Seating herself, she glanced around the table, one eyebrow arched.
"Having fun, ladies?"
"Actually, we were, Mother," Jen said. "It was as if we were back in the dorm again."
"We're trying to get your daughter to tell us who she's working for," Karen asked.
"For whom, dear," her mother corrected. "You don't know about Jennifer and Marshall Grainger?" Now both eyebrows were raised.
Jen nearly spit out her drink.
"Marshall Grainger?" Kathie repeated in awed tones.
"Holy...shoot," a wide-eyed Marcie said, catching herself to clean up her language just in time.
All the women at the table looked at Jen, waiting for her to offer some sort of explanation.
"Yummy," Leslie said. "But Marsh Grainger isn't exactly-"
"How did you even-" began Kathie.
"It's a long story. I swear, I'll tell you everything. Later," Jen added.
"Well, this is a happy group, isn't it?" Tony drawled, coming to a halt at the table. "Shall I wait a few minutes to serve?"
"Heck no, I'm starving," Marcie said.
Only Marcie, Jen thought fondly. "No, you can serve now, please," Jen said.
"May," her mother corrected again. "You may serve now, Tony, thank you."