Connor still couldn’t understand why. He didn’t believe in some kind of cosmic suitability. Or that there was one perfect match for everybody out there. He believed in pure, physical needs. Bestial coupling because hormones demanded nothing less was more his style. So an explanation for these unfathomable protective urgings would’ve been welcome.
* * *
“It’s been ages since we’ve seen you, Jessa darling!” Kitty gushed.
Jessa leaned forward and exchanged pecks on the cheek with the unofficial head of their little group while puzzling over the sudden realization that while they always pretended to touch, they never did. It was as if they secretly shunned all physical contact.
The outdoor terrace of the Lake Forest Country Club was the definition of Midwest cosmopolitan style. Wrought iron tables and chairs were scattered beneath carved arbors stained a rich cherry color and draped with vines and sheer panels of pastel polyester. The scent of bougainvillea and lavender was almost overpowering. Magnolia trees clustered thickly around the edge of the flagstone patio to create the illusion of privacy.
Clean cut waiters dressed in khakis and matching polo shirts moved quietly among the guests serving light fare and faux cocktail drinks. Jessa had always found them handsome in the past. But one look at their smooth, tame good looks and she longed for Connor’s brutal masculinity.
Once they’d all taken their unofficial assigned seats at the glass-topped table, the usual talk commenced. Jessa hated the prattle. She’d always hated it. It inevitably began the same way.
“Terrence got his UCLA acceptance letter in the mail yesterday,” Kitty said loftily. “He’s a shoe in for first string on their soccer team.”
Georgia put a hand to her breast. “That’s spectacular! Chelsea received her Vassar letter last week. Isn’t it wonderful that the fall is all taken care of even before graduation?”
“Speaking of graduation,” Courtney broke in. “You’ll never hear who had his speech chosen for commencement.”
It went on and on. It always did. Sometimes it seemed as if every conversation with the women who were supposed to be her best friends was a commentary on Jessa’s failings as a wife. Will wanted this. He wanted the affirmation one could only get from a successful child. This was what Ginny could give him. This was what Jessa could not.
The chatter became background noise. Jessa’s rebellious streak resurfaced. The ambient air temperature seemed to rise ten degrees, and a reckless urge to thumb her nose at all of their damned ideals swept away Jessa’s sense of propriety.
“So,” Kitty flipped her bleached blonde hair over one narrow shoulder and widened her pale blue eyes. “What have you been up to, Jessa? The girls and I heard about Will’s extended vacation.”
How could she have thought to regain her sanity by hanging out with these women? Jessa suddenly couldn’t imagine a worse way to spend the morning. Kitty was a domineering two-faced bitch. Flame-haired Georgia, with her green eyes, perfect complexion, pristine wardrobe, and prim manners, probably couldn’t tell if the thoughts in her head belonged to her or to Kitty. Courtney had never left her college pep squad days behind. She was dressed to the nines in Ralph Lauren tennis clothes and a Rolex watch. Her violet eyes contrasted the long midnight hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Last was clunky Anne with her drab brown hair and eyes. Though her tanned complexion was healthy and attractive, she had a habit of wearing oversized clothes to hide her full figure.
Jessa had always liked Anne best of all. If asked, she’d have said it was because of the brunette’s sharp wit and quirky nature. But Anne was also the only one in their select group who shared Jessa’s fuller figure. It was always hard to stand next to Courtney or Georgia and not feel big and awkward. Worse still was trying to feel confident around Kitty.
“Have you been drowning your sorrows in Ben and Jerry’s again, Jessa?” Kitty asked while making a blatant assessment of Jessa’s figure. “You know you have to be careful with that stuff.”
“It’d be better just to inject collagen directly into your hips,” Courtney agreed.
“Well, it hardly makes most of us feel better to swallow it down and then puke it back up like some people do.” Anne coolly observed.
Jessa shot Anne a grateful smile. Kitty could always be depended upon to offer dieting advice of negligible value. “Actually, I haven’t felt all that bad about this separation.” Jessa admitted.
“Is he screwing around again?” Anne asked sympathetically.
“Always.”
Georgia pressed a hand to her mouth to cover a giggle of embarrassment. “I’ve always enjoyed the peace and quiet that comes with Dean’s extracurricular activities.”