Part Four
Disclaimers in Prologue.
Yves stood in the enclosed porch, her hand poised to ring the doorbell. She looked around the small space, noting the plant pots, full of dirt, but empty of plants. Too cold to grow anything outside, she thought. There was a white wrought-metal table, with wicker chairs. An oil lantern was set on top of the circular table, along with a candle she suspected was citronella.
It suited him, this two-story brick house in the suburbs of Newark, New Jersey, the unassuming nature of it all, the normality. She didn't belong here.
She dropped her hand and turned to go. She heard the creak of the door behind her and turned back to find herself face to face with a diminutive, green-eyed woman with a spray of golden freckles across her nose.
They looked at each other for a moment before the woman said, "What are you doing here?" Her coat was open, and Yves noticed that she was wearing hospital scrubs beneath.
"I'm, I'm looking for Jimmy Bond. I'm Yves Harlow." The woman raised her eyebrows. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
"I'm sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all, "but you just missed him. Was there a reason you were looking for him?" She looked down, buttoning her coat.
"No. Thank you." She turned to go, but the woman said, "Ms. Harlow."
Yves couldn't think why this woman would call her back, but she stopped anyway.
"Is there really no reason, or do you not trust me with that reason?"
Yves stared at her, incredulous at the nerve this woman had. "Excuse me, but who are you?"
"Jessica Lewis, Jimmy's sister."
"His sister? So, the boy..."
"Michael, my son. Jimmy told me he found you, talked to you."
"He never told me he had a sister."
Jessica tipped her head, a brief nod. "You probably never asked. He told me about you. You treated him despicably, you know." She said it so coolly, that Yves almost didn't catch the anger underneath, but it was there nonetheless.
Yves said, "I don't have to--"
"Yes, you do," Jessica interrupted. "You owe me that much. I had to pick up the pieces, so you can listen to what I have to say. I don't know you, I don't really understand your reasons for breaking his heart, but don't come here wanting to see him, for 'no reason'. He wants a clear yes or no from you and even then he might not give up. I love my brother dearly, and I can't stand the thought of you playing with his heart."
"Jimmy knows all my reasons--"
"Does he really? You won't let him in. Let me tell you something, Yves, Jimmy will love you forever. He's like that."
Yves looked away, and Jess said, sounding more sincere this time, "I'm sorry, I can be too blunt, sometimes."
"Something you and Jimmy share in common," Yves said dryly. "Have you said your piece?"
"Almost. I just have one question."
"What?"
"Did you ever care for him at all?"
Yves looked down.
"Well?"
Yves looked up again, her face hard. "You don't have the right to ask me that question."
Jessica smiled, a wide, friendly smile, and it so baffled Yves it wiped away her anger, leaving a confused expression.
Jess said, "Of course not, but I think I got my answer anyway. It was good to meet you, Yves. I got what I needed to say out of my system. I hope it wasn't too hurtful. If we meet again, call me Jess. I hope we do--we can work on being friends."
"We might not, you know."
"Then again, we might."
Yves nodded and said, "Have a good day, Mrs. Lewis."
