Mystery Lover(24)

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, sir. You should be very proud of yourself. How many thirty-seven-year-old men could-"

"Jennifer!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Would you please stop calling me 'sir.'"

"Yes-What do you want me to call you?"

"What have you called me in the past?"

"Mr. Cameron. However, I refuse to call the man I sleep with by his last  name. It smacks of class discrimination during the Edwardian era." She  glanced over at his stack of calls. "Was there some particular reason  you called? I can read you your messages or summarize the mail, whatever  you wish."

Jennifer had the distinct impression that Chad was silently counting to  himself. Yes, that was exactly what she picked up on him. So far he had  passed twenty and was still climbing. Perhaps that was how he kept that  ironclad control of his. He must be a mathematical wizard by now.

"Yes. I'd like to know what mail I have and any urgent messages."

For the next several minutes their conversation was filled with  business. He gave her instructions for the other investigators,  including the information that he would not be home for another week.

"I thought you said you'd be home in a few days."

"I had planned to. However, I ran into some problems that have caused me to change my plans."

"I see." As a secretary, it made very little difference to her whether  he was there or not. She could take instructions in person or by phone.  As a wife, it made a considerable amount of difference. Particularly  since she was a new wife. A brand-new wife. With no husband in evidence.

Jennifer couldn't help but wonder if his delay had more to do with their  new marital relationship than business problems, but she refused to  ask. As she had pointed out to him before, he had to come home sometime.

Suddenly C. W. Cameron said something so astounding, she almost dropped  the phone. He asked her a personal question. "What are your plans for  the weekend?"

In all the years she'd worked for him, he'd never asked such a question.  She had finally decided that as far as her employer was concerned she  went up in a puff of smoke every Friday afternoon at five, only to  reappear bright and early each Monday morning.

Maybe there was hope for them yet.

She didn't want to tell him that she had kept the weekend free just in  case he were in town. Thinking quickly, she said, "Oh, I'll probably  spend the weekend with Mother. She's always trying to get me to come  visit."

"How is your mother?"

She stared at the phone as though he'd slipped into a foreign language. "Mom's fine. I had dinner with her Monday night."                       
       
           



       

"Oh."

She waited for him to say something else. She sure didn't know how to conduct this particular conversation.

"Did you tell her about us?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She wondered if she was going to have an invisible son-in-law and if  her grandchildren would also carry the curse of invisibility."

"I'm looking forward to meeting her."

"She's looking forward to meeting you, too."

There was another pause. "I, uh, need to get to work. I'll talk with you next week."

"Fine. Is there anything else?"

She waited. Finally, in a low voice, he said, "I miss you, Sunshine."

Jennifer had difficulty concentrating on her work for the rest of the day.



"Definitely a good sign," her mother commented that evening. Jennifer  and Sam had traveled out to Oceanside. Jennifer and her mother sat in  front of the small fireplace, watching the flames while Sam checked out  the place. A cat can't be too careful about the places he inhabits.  Periodically he would leap up in Jennifer's lap and touch his nose to  hers. Satisfied that she was behaving, he would jump down and continue  his reconnaissance. "I thought so," Jennifer agreed. "I don't think Chad  consciously chose such a dramatic split in his personality. Little by  little, through various circumstances and experiences, he worked out a  pattern of survival."

"You know what I really find sad?" her mother asked.

"What's that, Mom?" Jennifer was enjoying some hot apple cider and she took a sip from the cup she held.

"What do you suppose would have happened to the Chad you know if he  hadn't discovered how to communicate with you as a little girl? You took  him out of himself, gave him someone else to think about, worry about,  be concerned over. You've often mentioned how much company he was for  you during those years. But what about him?"

Jennifer gave a light shiver. "I hate to think. The C. W. Cameron that we all know and hate would have been all that's left."

"Then he owes you as much gratitude as you owe him."

"Mom, gratitude doesn't come into this. Not when you love each other.  Love is so much a sharing, a chance to be who you are, and accepted for  who you are. I will never be able to understand how we managed to get  together because neither of us has ever known anyone else with whom we  could mentally communicate. The odds of our ever meeting were  astronomical. And look at the age difference. He's twelve years older  than I am. We could never have dated each other while either of us was  growing up."

"And by the time you were grown," her mother continued, "and you went to  work for him, he would have been too set in his ways to ever open up."

"He may still be, for all I know."

"Yet you're married to him."

"I know. And I'm not sorry. I'm willing to accept him as he is. It's the  same as if your loved one was injured and became less than completely  whole. He's the same person that you always loved."

"Yes. When your father realized that he was paralyzed, that he would  never be able to walk again, he seemed to give up fighting for his life.  I tried to make him understand that the important thing to me was that  he would still be here with me."

"That's the way I feel about Chad. If we have to keep our lives together  totally separated, the formal boss-employee relationship at work, and  whatever he's willing to give me away from the office, I'll accept that.  Because I know that he will be giving everything he's capable of  giving. I can't ask for more than that."





By the time Jennifer arrived home on Sunday evening she felt pleasantly  tired and truly relaxed. The visit had gone well. Sam had slain a few  invisible dragons, which left him in a very benign mood, and she and her  mother had grown closer than ever.

Jennifer felt blessed, even though she recognized that others might view  her situation as bizarre, to say the least. She might go through life  with a secret lover, while married to a cold, arrogant man in public.  Sooner or later Chad had to realize that their marriage was workable  because they wanted it to be. It might not be the usual arrangement that  others shared, but why should it be? She and Chad were different.  Hadn't she known that for years?

To be married to her invisible friend seemed to be enough of a bonus to Jennifer to accept whatever the future might bring.

A new serenity seemed to enfold Jennifer. She went to work the next week  with an easy acceptance of her role in life. She kept the office  running smoothly while Chad was away. Hopefully when he was back, she  could find a way to keep his home life running just as smoothly.                       
       
           



       

The first thing she noticed when she walked in the door Wednesday  morning was that the receptionist gave her a strange look. A very  strange look.

Jennifer glanced down to see if she'd accidentally worn mismatched shoes  to the office. She'd almost done that once. No. Her navy kid pumps  gleamed back at her. As she walked toward her office she surreptitiously  checked to see if her slip was showing. How could it? With the longer  length in skirts, there was a good six-inch gap between her slip and the  hem of her suit.

Shrugging, she walked into her office and stopped.

Her mail was stacked neatly on her desk, where it was always left by the  receptionist. Right behind her nameplate. She did a double take.

Her nameplate read, "Jennifer C. Cameron."

Where had that come from? Glancing up she saw an ornate bouquet of red  roses, which dwarfed the credenza behind her desk. After absently  storing her purse she slid the card from the small white envelope  attached to one of the roses and read, "Thank you for the most wonderful  honeymoon a man could ever wish for. All my love, Chad."

Jennifer glanced around and saw that as many of the staff as could crowd  into the area stood in front of the door to her office, watching her.

She turned around and gave them what she felt must be a very sickly smile. "Good morning, everyone."