“Sorry we weren’t able to cancel the tickets to the show and go to your concert, honey,” her father said. “How did it go?”
It took her a second to realize he’d asked her a question. “Uneventful.”
“Oh, well, I guess that’s better than if it went poorly. What did you do yesterday? I was really hoping you’d come by for dinner after we heard you were home, and when you didn’t return my calls, I worried.”
I spent Sunday in a fog. “I’m sorry. I’ve been pretty tired, that’s all. I’ll try to come by soon.”
She’d received Jamie’s phone message, but she couldn’t bring herself to call him back. It’s me. I’d like to talk to you. Please. He’d sounded as sad as she felt, but every time she thought about calling him, she heard Mark’s voice. He needs to focus, and unless you want to be the cause of his empire’s demise, I suggest you back off. And immediately after, she’d remember the determination on Jamie’s face when he left her apartment that very last time, as he said, You’re not a distraction. You’re the woman I love.
“Jessica, I don’t want to pry, but I’ve never heard you this down before. Did something happen while you were away?”
“Sort of. I met someone, but we aren’t together now.” She was so emotionally exhausted that she didn’t trust herself to make a sound decision. If Jamie loved her, then why hadn’t he come back that night—or the next morning? She hadn’t left Seaside until the next afternoon, and from the surprise Vera expressed over Jamie not being with Jessica when Jessica went to say goodbye to him, it was obvious he’d stayed out all night. Vera had said that he left a note saying he’d see her in the morning. Where would he have gone if he wasn’t with Jessica? And why would he wait so many hours before calling her?
“I’m sorry. Dating can be difficult.”
She heard a strain in her father’s voice. They’d never talked about dating, and come to think of it, they’d never talked about much besides the world of academics and the orchestra.
“Dad, how did you know you loved Mom?”
“Well…I guess I just knew. I’m not sure how I knew, but everything just fell into place in our lives. It was like once we met, we knew, I guess.”
Jessica could tell by the way he laughed that he was uncomfortable with the question.
“I couldn’t think of anything other than her, believe it or not,” he explained. “I know you’ll find that hard to believe, given how stoic your mother can be, but to me, she’s everything. That doesn’t help you much, but I guess I’m not very good at these things.”
She sighed. “I don’t find it hard to believe. I just…I think we were big distractions to each other’s work. I’m not sure it would have worked out with my career anyway.”
The truth was, she was a distraction. A big one. So was he, but he was the most welcome distraction she’d ever encountered. She closed her laptop, crossed her arms over it, and rested her head on them. With her eyes closed, she could recall his touch as he brushed her hair from her shoulders or pressed his cheek to hers, the way he’d stolen her breath the first time they’d made love, and the guilt in his eyes when he’d realized that he was only the second man she’d ever been intimate with. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d found what she was sure was her father’s baseball and she’d fallen in love. Two things she’d never imagined she had a hope of accomplishing. Then she’d gone and somehow lost both.
“Sweetheart, if he didn’t think you were worth the distraction, then he’s not the man for you. Every love is a distraction. That’s what makes it so special.”
“Maybe not,” she agreed. Then why did it feel so right to be with Jamie, and why did it hurt so badly to lose him? If he wasn’t worth the energy, how could anything else be? Including the cello? There wasn’t any lingering doubt about who Jamie was or why he loved her. How could that be so wrong?
Because he doesn’t love me. How could he? He never came back.
Maybe her mother was right, and everything outside of being an excellent cellist was not worth the energy. Maybe she’d just needed a good dose of reality to slap her into realizing how lucky she was to hold her position with the orchestra. With every tear that fell, she weighed her thoughts, and not one of them took hold.
“I think I’d better go, Dad.”
“Jessica, honey, if you’re this torn up over him, maybe you should talk to him. Tell him how you feel.” He lowered his voice, and it sounded as if he was walking as he spoke. “Honey, some things are more important than being the best cellist. But if you tell your mother I said so, I’ll deny it until the cows come home.”