Chapter 8
Seth looked out the window towards the lake, allowing his coffee to cool as he contemplated their last few days at the cabin. Jessica insisted on washing the sheets before they left, somehow managing to both amuse and titillate Seth. Amused because she didn't want the cleaning staff to know their personal business, and titillated because she tossed the comment over her shoulder with a wink and a bump of her hip as she bent over the bed to strip the sheets. She did have a point, though. Even he was mildly shocked by the frequency of their lovemaking. Not that he was complaining, but it wasn't as though they were young honeymooners, after all. Not that she didn't make him feel as randy as a teenager. He just wished he could be certain that her ardor wasn't unduly influenced by…well, he hadn't decided yet how to refer to that whole episode in his mind. He didn't like to think of David Tolliver, tried not to think of him, but it was difficult not to. He sighed.
"You don't want to leave either, do you?"
Seth shook himself. "What? No, no I don't suppose I do." She'd caught him unawares. He smiled at her as she sidled up next to him, and he slipped an arm about her waist. "Who wouldn't want to stay holed up with his best girl in a love nest like this?"
Jessica laughed and squeezed him companionably. "We can't hide out forever," she agreed. "But I am a little apprehensive about going back." Seth was quiet, hoping to hear more. "Could we…do you think we could stay at your place for awhile?" She looked up at him. "I'm not sure I'm ready to stay at my house…even with you there."
He tightened his hold on her and took a breath, quashing all of his natural objections, like gossip and propriety. She needed him, needed his friendship and loyalty. He'd do anything for this woman, not least stare down a few malicious, narrow-minded gossips. "A-yuh, woman. We can stay at my place as long as you like."
Jessica smiled and curled even further into his embrace. "Thank you, darling," she said softly. "I know this isn't easy for you."
"Nonsense," he boomed, startling them both. He patted her shoulder. "You let me handle those nosy Parkers. You have other work to do."
"The interview, you mean."
"A-yuh, among other things."
"What other things?"
"I'm sure Susan's got a list as long as my arm of things she wants you to do," said Seth neutrally.
"Mmm," replied Jessica. "But will I be able to do them?" she mused.
"A-yuh, if you want to." He looked at her tenderly. "You don't have to." She grimaced. "No matter whether we were a couple or not."
"A couple of what?" but her heart wasn't in the joke. She would have to push herself, for her own sake and for theirs. She squeezed his hand and moved out of his embrace.
Seth stifled a sigh. Even though he was looking forward to returning home, it wasn't going to be easy. Not by a long shot.
They'd lingered at the cabin until they could be assured that Seth's practice would be closed by the time they reached Cabot Cove. He'd fixed sandwiches from the last of the groceries they'd brought in; both tacitly agreed that it would be best to drive all the way through.
Jessica felt a thrill of alarm or anxiety, she couldn't quite tell which, as they pulled into Seth's garage. Some residual nerves from the last time they'd been there, she decided. Seth glanced at her as if he shared her feelings. He put the car in park and clambered around back to get their bags.
She followed Seth through the garage and in through the rooms that had been converted into an office. She'd never really paid attention to his office or his rooms, she thought as she climbed the stairs to his private living quarters. His rooms above the office were dark and cramped, and they seemed particularly cramped at night. Fair enough. He spent little time there and she knew from the gossip she allowed herself to hear that Ruth's illness had left him very nearly penniless. She chided herself for her ingratitude.
Seth put their bags in his bedroom, then turned to face Jessica and sheepishly raised his hands. "I'm not…I'm not making any assumptions, Jess." She looked at him quizzically, and he gestured behind him with his thumb. "I put our bags in my bedroom. Yours and mine. Bags, I mean. I'm not trying to…I don't want to assume anything, now that we're…"
Jessica looked at him curiously. "Are you asking if I'm uncomfortable sharing a bed with you in Cabot Cove…after we've just spent days in that cabin making love?"
Seth shifted nervously on his feet. "I just want you to know…" He held up his hands helplessly. "I'm just trying to say…"
"Oh, Seth." Jessica went to him and gathered him in her arms. "That's very considerate," she murmured, "but I don't intend to sleep in your guest room tonight."
His laughter was muffled in the hollow of Jessica's neck. He drew back a little so she could hear him. "That's good, woman, because I don't have one."
"That's right," murmured Jess. "I'd forgotten."
"How could you forget about the bats?"
She shuddered in his arms. "Oh don't remind me!" After a moment, she brightened. "But Marvin's bound to have spread the story about us all over town. We don't have to worry about gossip, at least."
Seth's face grew dark at the mention of Marvin's name. "Hmph. If it makes you feel better, well and good. I still have a few choice words for that fellow."
She patted his chest. "I don't think there's any need for that. Do you mind if I use the bathroom first tonight?"
"Go right ahead."
She kissed him lightly, then walked into Seth's bedroom.
Jessica was warm. Too warm. And…was she in a hole? Or a trough of some sort? As she awakened, she realized that she and Seth had rolled toward the center of the bed during the night, and he was draped awkwardly over her while she was squashed into a well-established dip.
"Seth," she murmured. He mumbled. "Seth," she said a little more forcefully. "Seth, I can't breathe!"
Seth jerked awake, arms flailing. He rolled off Jessica, flustered and apologetic. "I'm sorry, Jess! Are you alright?" He scrambled to the side of the bed, then tried to help her out of the middle.
"I'm alright," she said. She was sore and slightly irritable, but it wasn't Seth's fault. She'd invited herself to stay with him. She smiled at him. "Are you going into the office today?"
"A-yuh. Tom's going to meet me here around lunchtime to catch me up on patient files, but Beverly'll be here soon to go over the appointment book with me." Seth looked at Jess tenderly. "What will you do today?"
Jessica sighed and stretched. "I'll have to talk with Susan. Do you mind if I make long-distance calls on your telephone? I could probably have them charged to my line. I can ask Letitia."
"Don't bother about that, Jess." He glanced at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand table. "Do you mind if I take a quick shower? If I know Beverly, she'll be here at 7:30 this morning."
Jessica chuckled. "Go ahead, darling. I'll make some coffee."
Seth kissed her lightly, then grinned sheepishly as he got out of bed.
"Can't believe I fell asleep in my clothes," he said quietly.
Jess smiled up at him. "It was a long drive yesterday. You must've been exhausted."
Seth leaned down to kiss her lightly on the lips. "I got plenty of rest last night, my dear. But I ought to get moving if I want to beat Beverly."
He chucked her lightly under the chin, grabbed his robe, and headed to the bathroom. Jessica swung her legs over the side and groaned. Seth's mattress was nothing but a trough connected by lumps. Even so, she was grateful to be in these pokey rooms with him than in the house on Candlewood. It wasn't as though David had tainted the house for her, but it would take time to be comfortable there. She sighed and reached for her robe. At least she could have a cup of coffee waiting for Seth before he left. He had a busy day ahead. So did she, and she wasn't particularly looking forward to it.
Seth had only a few minutes to check on her that first day back, which was fine because she'd spent a great deal of time on the phone with Susan and various media consultants Vaughn had hired to navigate the continued public interest. And milk it for all it's worth, she thought with uncharacteristic bitterness.
"We're real people," she told Seth over dinner that night. "Why should this…incident…make my book sell better? It was good on its own, wasn't it?" Seth nodded. "It's almost as though we engineered this whole thing for sales. Does it make JB Fletcher more interesting? I don't see why we need to respond! Besides, I'm not JB Fletcher!" Seth was quiet, just letting her vent her concerns. He wasn't sure what to say. He agreed with her, mostly, but she was JB Fletcher. At least, a part of her was. "What are you thinking?"
Seth was jolted from his reverie. "Who me?"
"Yes, you," said Jessica dryly.
Seth sighed. He knew better than to try to lie to her, but he needed a minute to collect his thoughts. He took a sip of wine as he planned what he wanted to say. "We can't ignore or minimize what happened, Jess." She opened her mouth to speak, but Seth held up his hand. "David has had plenty of time to tell his side of the story. I think you ought to tell yours." He took her hand. "You're a private person, Jess. It's why you need JB." Jessica tried to pull her hand from Seth's grasp, but he held it firmly. "Wait, Jessica. Just hear me out. JB Fletcher is a part of you, the part that enjoys the more…frivolous…aspects of being a successful, published author. Now this is not a criticism, Jess. I love you…all of you." He squeezed her hand and smiled. "And you'll be fine…better than fine in this interview. You've spent a lifetime observing human nature."
"As have you, Dr. Hazlitt. I can practically hear the text of the DSM coming out of your mouth," she said acidly.
Seth held on to his temper. This was to be expected. She was under a tremendous amount of stress. They'd been able to hide from it at the cabin, but now they were back in the real world. Adjustments would have to be made. "What I mean to say is…you understand people, and I don't think you're surprised by the impact this story has made. But it's frustrating to feel you have to respond publicly." He paused to look in her eyes. "But you do, Jess. And it will be Jessica Fletcher, not JB, who takes center stage. That's bound to be uncomfortable."
She turned her face away from his. "How did you get to be so wise?" she murmured without heat. "I don't want to talk to them, to any of them. I don't want to talk to the police or the district attorney, but it seems I have no choice."
"You do have a choice, Jess. You're choosing to face this head on."
"Am I?"
"Yes," said Seth firmly. "We wouldn't be having this conversation otherwise."
They were quiet for a long moment, then Jessica turned to face him. "Pie?" she asked abruptly.
"I suppose it depends what kind, woman," said Seth.
She laughed and they were easy again.
They had a nice quiet evening together. Earlier in the day he'd called over to the library to pick up a copy of David Copperfield, and when he produced it before bed, she was delighted. Seth was tired, and Jess was inclined to have an early night as well, so they went to bed early in order to squeeze in another chapter before it got too late.
The significance wasn't lost on Seth when she had a nightmare that night, the first she'd had since they'd made love in the cabin almost a week and a half before. He managed to soothe her back to sleep, but they both woke bleary-eyed and fractious the next morning. He did his best to stay out of her way that morning, and walked down the stairs to his office feeling slightly relieved and guilty for feeling so. He was privately grateful that Jessica had arranged a counseling session with Jim on Friday.
Seth was nervous as they approached Jim's home, which is where he and Jessica had agreed to meet. He had no idea what to do; he'd never been in a situation like this. Should he let her out in the driveway? Should he walk her to the door, where he would undoubtedly encounter Jim? He hadn't seen Jim in fifteen years, almost sixteen now. And he felt embarrassed by the thought that Jim would discover that they had…that they were…whatever it was they were. It would be awkward, and how would that impact Jessica?
"I appreciate your driving me, Seth," she said as she smoothed her hand on his thigh. "I know it's inconvenient."
"Not at all," boomed Seth and he cursed himself again for that irritating habit he had. How often had Ruthie commented that his voice grew louder in relation to his nerves? And he was nervous today. He spared a quick glance at Jessica. Her tone was gentle, which wasn't at all a sure thing these days. It seemed everything he did annoyed or aggravated her. He was trying. He knew how difficult it was for them both to navigate his cramped rooms above the office. He hadn't realized how deeply committed he'd become to the frugality that had been forced on him after Ruth's death. He wasn't destitute any longer, and especially now that Margie was on her own and didn't need any support, he had a little more disposable income. That meant he could afford to do a few nice things now and again: the odd trip or treating Jessica to nicer meals.
But having her in his home emphasized how small, even shabby, his life had become. He'd had no reason to beautify his home, he thought defensively, as he'd had no woman to share it with. Until now, and his conscience niggled at him.
"Seth? I said you could just drop me off. You don't have to come in. Unless you want to," she added hastily. He'd been so prickly lately. That's not fair, Jess. You haven't exactly been easy to live with.
"Sorry," he muttered. "If it's alright with you, Jess, I'll drop you at the house. I'll come back in an hour. I could come in then." Or not.
"That's fine," she said bracingly.
Seth hoped with all his heart that Jessica—and by extension, himself—might get some relief from today's session.
Jim opened the door. Jessica's first impression was that she'd stumbled upon Mr. Rogers. Jim was lean, with a kindly face, and he was wearing a cardigan. She gave herself a mental shake in an effort to regain her composure.
"Jim?" she asked, and held out her hand.
Jim opened the door as he took her hand and ushered her into the house. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Jessica." He watched Seth as he backed down the driveway, then threw him a quick wave before closing the door. "I hope I'll have the opportunity to speak to Seth when he comes back."
"I'm sure you will," said Jessica. "I think we were both a little nervous."
"Nervous?" Jim gestured, and Jessica followed him down the hall and into what she presumed was his study. He closed the door behind her, then urged her to sit. "Why would you be nervous?"
"I suppose for myself, I was a bit nervous meeting you face to face. For the first time," she said haltingly. "Somehow, I think that sharing things with you over the phone will turn out to be much easier than doing so in person."
"And why is that, do you think?"
Jessica colored faintly. "I suppose it still feels…indulgent…to spend this much time examining my feelings."
"Ah," said Jim noncommittally. "And how have things been going, Jessica? We talked briefly once you returned home."
Jessica felt like a naughty student who'd been caught cutting classes. "I've been quite busy. So has Seth, actually."
"I can imagine."
"Can you?" Jessica shot back, then looked horrified. "I apologize, Jim. I've been, well, I haven't felt like myself since we got back."
He waved her apology away. "How have you felt, Jessica?"
She stared off into space for a long moment. "Frustrated. Irritable. Angry, actually." She looked at Jim, but he was maddeningly quiet. "I told you…about the interview." He nodded. "Susan, well, we've been working with media consultants…" She shook her head. "I can't believe I have a media consultant. That this whole episode has resulted in…"
"In what?" prodded Jim gently.
"My whole life has been turned upside down!" she burst out angrily. "I'm living with Seth in his cramped, awful rooms above his practice because I'm too afraid for us to return to the house on Candlewood."
"Your house?" asked Jim mildly.
"Yes, although I fail to see what that has to do with anything." Jim nodded neutrally. "I don't enjoy this." She gestured between them. "Feeling as though you know the answer and you're just waiting for me to deliver it."
"It's true I'm waiting, Jessica, but I'm not interested in any prepared answer you might think I want to hear. I'm here to listen, to advise if possible, and perhaps…" He tilted his chin toward her. "Perhaps to give you some tools to navigate this thorny path you've found yourself on."
"But I'm not on that path alone," she said quietly.
"No, you aren't," said Jim without inflection.
"I know I'm hurting him," said Jessica quietly.
"Can you give me an example?"
"I've been irritable, short-tempered…it's become almost …pleasurable…to find faults with...anything, really."
"That's normal, Jessica, given what you've been through," replied Jim neutrally.
Jessica looked at him sharply. "You keep emphasizing that. What I've been through. Seth experienced it, too. And he's been so patient, while I've been irritable. Difficult. I feel so guilty," she said softly.
"Guilt can be a useful emotion. It lets us know when we've behaved badly." He smiled at Jessica. "Perhaps you have treated Seth with less kindness than you'd ordinarily show, but…" He spoke more quickly in order to forestall the objection he could see Jessica poised to make. "You've ascribed to yourself a disproportionate share of guilt, Jessica. Why is that?"
"I brought David into our lives!" exclaimed Jessica loudly. "I defended him. I continued to employ him in the face of growing evidence of his…at the very least his untrustworthiness. He…he met me at the airport," said Jessica quietly.
"What?" asked Jim.
"In Seattle. He…followed me to the airport. It was…unsettling." She was quiet for a long moment. "Disturbing."
"I can understand that."
"He told me that he was attracted to me. Enormously attracted to me," she said almost unwillingly. She looked at Jim, but he maintained his sphinx-like demeanor, which ignited Jessica's temper. "You think I should have told someone," she said accusingly. "You think I should have reported him."
"Why should you think that, Jessica?"
"Because it's what any sensible person would have done. A person who accepts help. One who isn't so stubbornly convinced of the soundness of her own judgment." To her great embarrassment, Jessica felt tears rolling down her face. She moved to open her purse, but Jim silently handed her a box of tissues. She took the box and swiftly pulled out three tissues and began blotting her face. "What you must think of me," she sputtered. "Such a display!"
"Do you ever consider, Jessica, whether your iron discipline is a virtue or a vice?" She looked at him, unblinking, as Jim let the silence spool out between them.
Jessica was quiet on the way home; the silence between them felt heavy and brooding. He only hoped he hadn't contributed to her obvious unease by his awkward bumbling when he'd picked her up at Jim's.
He'd been anxious, which always made him awkward. He knew Jessica's sessions typically lasted for 50 minutes, so he split the difference by arriving in Jim's driveway at 10 till the hour, then forcing himself to wait the additional four and one-half minutes before exiting the car and walking up the short sidewalk to the front door.
Before he could knock, Jim opened the door with Jessica immediately behind him. He noticed that she was clutching the strap of her handbag, one of her few tells, and that she'd been crying. His heart clenched even as his mind was reminding him that tears were a perfectly normal response to a therapy session. He'd certainly shed a few of his own all those years ago.
"Seth," said Jim in a tone that somehow conveyed both affection and neutrality. He proffered a hand, which Seth shook absentmindedly. He continued to stare at Jessica. "It's good to see you," Jim offered.
Seth grunted in agreement. "A-yuh," he said gruffly. "How are you?" This was directed toward Jessica, but, as she seemed disinclined to answer, Jim pretended the question had been directed at him. "Fine, fine," he said heartily, then turned to Jessica. "Does the same time next week suit?"
Jessica looked thoughtful for a moment. "It may. Let me check my calendar and I'll call you to confirm."
"That sounds fine." Jim stepped back to allow Jessica to walk through the door. "I look forward to seeing you next week, Jessica. Seth."
Seth nodded as the door closed, preoccupied as he was with Jessica's wan face. He followed her down the steps toward the car. "You alright?" he ventured.
Jessica nodded. "I'll be glad when we get home," and Seth took heart. It couldn't be all bad if she still referred to his place as home.
But the silent ride back to Cabot Cove didn't do much to allay his nerves.
It had been awkward...the session itself, Seth's picking her up and his stilted behavior at Jim's door, and her inability to make conversation on the way home. And she was no better once they arrived at Seth's. Her session with Jim had given her a great deal to think about, and she needed space, solitude, even, and both of those were in short supply in the cramped upstairs.
Seth was mercifully quiet, and she managed to get through dinner and the remainder of their evening, but her patience was wearing thin. That night, she rolled over and feigned sleep as she heard Seth make his way into their bedroom, the first time she'd ever done such a thing. They couldn't go on much longer like this.
They'd been back over a week now, and Jessica had the distinct feeling of being handled. Seth was busy, of course. He had a backlog of patients to check in with; as a consequence he had little time to spend with her during the day. Conversely she had too much time on her hands, even with all the prep work Susan had asked her to do.
Over the next few days, she'd developed something of a routine. Seth had gone back to Candlewood to collect her bike. At least she wouldn't be completely isolated. He felt fairly comfortable with her biking around the Cove. He'd had a series of conversations with Ron leading up to their coming back home, and Ron had assured him that all the journalists had cleared out and, more importantly, that David had been extradited back to Seattle to face charges in the matter of Allison Brevard's death. It appeared that the media storm surrounding the author of Lovers and Other Killers had goaded the Seattle PD into overdrive, and a few zealous officers were able to find enough compelling evidence to bring him back to Washington. Good riddance, thought Seth, though he knew it was only a temporary respite. Still, he was grateful. It meant he had to devote only half of his attention to Jessica and her wellbeing, with enough left over for his patients.
Jessica rode her bike to the library, where she holed up for hours in the back, doing research. She had Jane pull countless articles ranging from stalkers (celebrity and otherwise) to narcissistic disorder to human brain development from birth through aged 25. Jane was helpful without being officious, respectful without being obsequious, and discreet to a fault. Jane essentially ignored her, and Jessica loved her for it.
After spending hours reading and researching, Jessica would bike to the market to pick up something for dinner. She tried to have something on the table when Seth walked through the door, and he was appreciative. Though she was a good cook, Seth had the flair of an innovator. He tinkered endlessly with recipes and seemed to have an almost otherworldly understanding of how certain flavors would combine to bring out the best in each. Jessica was a plain, old-fashioned cook, and she'd begun to feel that Seth was perhaps a little disappointed by the simple fare she put forth every day.
Their lovemaking had changed as well. Seth had fallen asleep as she was preparing for bed that first night. She was surprised and even a little offended. Hadn't he been looking forward to going to bed with her? Perhaps there was something about the remoteness of the cabin, the idle hours that had fueled his passion. Since returning to Cabot Cove, sex had been sporadic. Perhaps now that they were home, that their routine was more or less established, he'd lost interest? Maybe he was feeling ashamed that they were living together? In sin?
Jessica knew that she was being ridiculous, that she was overreacting, but some small part of her relished the little resentments that began to build up.
Jim opened the door and greeted her pleasantly. "Hello, Jessica!" He looked around, craning his neck to look at the driveway. He noted the cab driver pulling away as he ushered Jessica in. "Seth couldn't make it today?"
In spite of his mild tone, Jessica bristled. "I'm perfectly capable of managing an appointment in Portland by myself!" She took her seat in his study, her bearing stiff.
"I can see that's true," said Jim quietly as he took his seat across from her.
They sat in silence for several minutes. Jim steepled his fingers while Jessica became uncharacteristically fidgety. "I've been thinking of your parting comment all week!" Jim merely raised his eyebrows. "Firstly, I don't consider myself possessed of an iron discipline, but if I had such a quality, I'd consider it a virtue."
"Mmm," replied Jim.
"I take it you disagree?"
Jim held up his hands in mock protest. "I neither agree nor disagree, Jessica. That comment seems to have rankled you."
"It's certainly been on my mind, among other things."
"What other things?"
"The publicity surrounding the book, the charges against…David…pertaining to his attack on us, Seth, of course, and…"
Jim let the silence build for a full minute before he asked. "And?"
Jessica stared at him for a moment, as though she'd been so deep in thought she'd forgotten he was there. "And I haven't written a word since…since the attack."
"Is that unusual?"
"Not necessarily. I usually at least have ideas. I'm constantly jotting notes in the lull between the publicity rounds of one book and the beginning of a new one."
"Lovers and Other Killers is your sixth book?"
Jessica nodded pensively. "That particular book came together so quickly, once I finally stopped fighting the character of Ambrose Pierce." She looked at Jim. "Of David," she said softly.
"Is he the first person on whom you modeled a character?"
"I suppose. It was intentional. He'd intrigued me, just as he said I had intrigued him." She looked sharply at Jim. "I wasn't attracted to him. Not in that way," added Jessica. "It was more that I sensed he was hiding something. Some part of himself. Masquerading," she finished quietly. "Of course I hadn't thought him capable of murder. Oddly enough I still don't. He said he was only going to tie Seth up." She shuddered. "At least that's what I remember. Seth says that's the way he remembers it, too, though it's not unlikely he's humoring me." A small smile played across her lips.
"I don't recall Seth ever humoring anyone. Not even Ruth," said Jim mildly. "If he said it, it's true. At least as far as he recollects."
Jessica smiled, a radiant smile this time. "Seth doesn't lie."
Jim laughed. "No, indeed. How did he take the news of your coming over by yourself?"
Jessica came over anxious. "He doesn't know."
Jim's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "How did you manage that?"
"I do have my own tasks to attend to during the day," said Jessica hotly. "I've got a routine of sorts, as does he. He'll be seeing patients all day today. I'll be home before he leaves the office."
"Hmph," said Jim. "Why didn't you tell him?"
Jessica sighed. "I'm not sure. I suppose partly it's that I don't want to worry him. Partly because I won't ask permission of him!" Jim smiled. "And partly, I suppose the largest part, I wanted to see whether I could do it. Whether I could get here on my own." She looked defiantly at Jim. "And you see I did!"
"Were you afraid to make the trip?"
"Not afraid," said Jessica quickly. "Apprehensive," she admitted.
"Any particular reason?"
Jessica thought for a moment. "I suppose I was afraid that I would come up with some excuse to prevent my coming, or…" She looked at Jim, a curious mixture of defiance and fear in her eyes. "Or I'd tell Seth and he would just take over." Her voice had dropped almost to a whisper. "That I would be relieved to let him take over."
"And that would be a bad thing?"
"My husband, Frank, was a wonderful man. But he was a man of his time."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning he and Seth share a similar outlook," she said smiling. "Frank valued my opinion, and he certainly wasn't a dictator. Nevertheless," she finished lightly.
Jim nodded thoughtfully. "I take your point, but it's difficult to imagine you as a typical housewife from that era."
Jessica laughed. "I suppose I wasn't. Not entirely. But," she said soberly, "I had a difficult time after Frank died. I wasn't helpless, but I wasn't accustomed to making all the decisions. I learned, and I don't want to lose that part of myself. "
"And you're worried that the very natural stress and anxiety you're feeling as a result of this attack will enable you to be lulled into the security that Seth represents."
"I suppose."
"Even though, from what you've told me, you took control of the situation. The attack," he clarified after seeing her blank look. "You agreed to go with David, didn't you? In exchange for Seth's life?" He noticed tears in Jessica's eyes and handed her the box of tissues. "Not many people are that selfless," he said quietly. "So." Jim leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers as Jessica dabbed her eyes. "You're worried about your independence, you're worried about your ability to write, you're worried about what the future holds. Is that a fair assessment?" Jessica nodded. "I'm worried about whether you'll ever forgive yourself for something that wasn't your fault in the first place."
Jim sighed. "This experience with David took something from you, Jessica. It's not weakness to acknowledge that. It's not weakness to draw strength from those around you when your own seems to have ebbed. You aren't a pitiable figure…someone who could be flattered or duped. People like David, well, they're like acts of God, in a way. Powerful, unpredictable, destructive. And we are almost helpless in the face of such a vis major."
Jim smiled at Jessica's blank look. "Superior force. The fault isn't yours, Jessica. It may not even be David's," he said gently. He put his hands up to forestall her angry outburst. "The debate over nature versus nurture rages on. I don't mean to trivialize your experience, nor do I mean to excuse David's actions. I'm merely pointing out that he himself may be in the grip of a superior force."
Jessica looked away for a long moment. "I can accept that as a possibility." She turned and he was startled anew by those piercing blue eyes. "It might actually be helpful," she admitted. "In the long run." She jumped at the sound of a car horn. "Oh my," she said, flustered. "That'll be my taxi." She tucked the tissues she'd been grasping into her purse and rose. "Thank you, Jim. I will think on what we've talked about today."
Jim smiled. "That's all I ask," he said and he walked her to the door.
Jessica sighed as she prepared for bed that night. She wasn't quite ready to talk about today's session with Seth. She could well imagine his opinion of whether David himself might be in the grip of something greater than himself. As much as he tried to disguise it, Seth was out for blood. She'd heard snippets of his conversations with Ron, who, Jessica presumed, was keeping Seth up to date on the developments out of Seattle. He wanted assurances that David would be locked up, if not for the rest of his life, for the rest of Jessica's.
It seemed to her that she and Seth were locked in a terrible dance, the steps fixed and rigid and completely out of their control. Neither was particularly graceful about being told what to do. Here she was grudgingly attending therapy and he was trying, trying so hard, not to rise to the bait that she would keep casting out.
At least he hadn't been angry that she'd gone to Portland alone. She'd steeled herself for a fight when she got home. She hadn't anticipated his patient resignation. He'd told her he was pleased that she'd made the trip alone, and he refused to be drawn into an argument with her. He simply thanked her for dinner, kissed her cheek, and got ready for bed.
She wondered if they could ever get back to the closeness they'd shared at the cabin.
Seth prepared for bed on auto-pilot, his conscious mind preoccupied with Jessica and her solo trip to Portland. He hadn't shown his anger, which, he reasoned, was really fear. Fear was at the heart of everything that was stilted and wrong between them. Had he known she wanted to travel alone, he wouldn't have stopped her...wouldn't I? But Jessica had known exactly how he would have reacted, so kept the details of the appointment to herself. Was she wrong to have done so? Was he wrong not to have been honest with her about his concerns? His fears? He wouldn't have hesitated to show his frustration to her when they were simply friends. But it never had been simple between us. He took a long look at himself in the mirror. He'd needlessly complicated things between them by succumbing to his basest desires, taking her to bed when he knew how vulnerable she was. How vulnerable they both were.
Jessica had been like a dream to him for years. He'd watched her evolve from a widowed English teacher from Cabot Cove, Maine to a sophisticated, successful woman who was so resourceful and fearless. He knew he would have done anything save forbid her from traveling to Portland alone, and he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't have forbidden her. Or at least tried to.
A thought as shocking as an ice bath struck him. Was he keeping her from being the vibrant, fiercely independent woman he'd fallen in love with? Didn't he like having her waiting for him at home, cooking for him? He tried to think when she had last mentioned her writing, her ideas for a new book? It would kill him to give her up, but what if that was what she needed? He took a few slow, deep breaths. He knew she loved him. He had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her touch. He knew it, and yet what if the thing that had brought him the greatest joy since Margie was born was the thing that was harming Jess, keeping her small and afraid? He leaned his forehead against the frame of the bathroom door. Could they ever get back to the closeness they'd shared at the cabin? Should they?
She'd had another restless night, and when she woke, she discovered that the little sleep she'd gotten had been on her bad shoulder. It ached fiercely. "Seth?"
"A-yuh?" He'd gotten very little sleep lately, as Jess had grown more restless since their discussion of David, and, he had to admit, her recent conversations with Jim hadn't seemed to help, either. At the cabin, she'd seemed almost energized after those talks. Here, she was listless and disgruntled. Maybe she was ashamed to be living with him here in Cabot Cove, where she'd spent the bulk of her married life? The thought was like ice water in his veins.
"How old is this mattress?"
"I'm not sure, Jess. It could be ten or twelve years old. Brought a few things with me from Portland. This was one." He heard the gruffness in his voice, but he could hardly miss the sharp edge in her voice.
"Have you ever considered replacing it?"
"Replacing it?" Seth felt the atmosphere shift dangerously in the room. He'd tried so hard to hold onto his temper, even when it seemed she wanted to argue. He was just too tired to rein it in this morning.
"Yes, Seth. Replacing it. We could order one and have it delivered by tomorrow or Friday at the latest!"
"Delivered? Here? Everyone will see that and know exactly what's going on up here!"
"I knew it!" She kicked the covers off the bed as she stood and wheeled around to face him. "I knew you were ashamed of us! Of our living together. In sin," she added for good measure.
Seth got out of bed and stood to face her. "I'm not ashamed, woman, but this is private. And I don't think you should be angry with me for trying to keep this private, to protect your reputation!"
"My reputation!" Her voice rose. "My sterling reputation that's already in tatters? I'll forever be known as the victim of a potentially crazed stalker. A young, handsome stalker who just happened to be the subject of my latest thriller!" she spat.
Seth reached out his hands. "Jess, I—"
"Don't bother!" She stormed into the bathroom and locked the door.
Seth scrubbed his eyes, then quickly made the bed. He gathered his clothes and went downstairs to change. What difference would it make if his patients noticed he wasn't clean shaven? By noon it would be all over town that he and Jess had had a falling out. Why didn't I just agree to order another mattress? You know why, came a soft, silky voice. He sighed. It was going to be another long day.
He went upstairs at lunch, but Jess wasn't there. As he took the stairs at the end of the day, it seemed too quiet, and he didn't smell any dinner cooking. Funny how quickly he'd grown accustomed to Jessica having a meal on the table almost as soon as he walked through the door. That was time she could have spent researching, writing, talking to Jim, but instead she spent it cooking for him. For them. His heart clenched painfully. No use crying over spilt milk, his mother always said, but not for the first time he wished he'd been stronger, more disciplined. He thought things might not be so complicated if they hadn't started sleeping together. If he hadn't made love to her that first night. The phone started ringing as soon as he walked through the door.
He scrambled to answer it. "Hello?"
"Seth, I'm sorry about this morning. I'm sorry I overreacted."
"I'm sorry too, Jess. I wish I hadn't been so harsh."
"You weren't harsh, Seth," she said quietly.
"Where are you?"
"I've been at Candlewood Lane this afternoon." Jessica listened to the steady sound of Seth's breathing. "I was hoping you'd come over."
"Are you sure about this, Jess?"
"I am, and that's one of the things we have to talk about, Seth."
"What is?"
"The fact that you don't trust me like you used to."
Hearing her say it aloud was like a punch in the gut, but it was the truth. He didn't trust her, and they did have to talk about it. "A-yuh, Jess. Let me clean up a little and I'll be right over. Should I pick up some dinner for us?"
"No. I stopped at the market this afternoon. I've made a clam chowder and some rolls."
"That sounds good, Jess. I won't be long."
Seth shaved and took a quick shower. He always felt like a derelict when he didn't shave. He paused by his nightstand table. On impulse, he grabbed David Copperfield. What could it hurt?
He took a deep breath before knocking on the back door. It felt too presumptuous to walk in like he had hundreds of times before.
"Is that you, Seth?"
Yes."
"Well, come on in! I'm just putting the finishing touches on our dinner."
He opened the door and stepped through. "It feels strange," he blurted. Jessica looked at him in surprise. "Coming over empty-handed, I mean." Jessica smiled at him, closed the oven door, and stepped over to kiss him lightly on the mouth.
"Dinner is ready; I'm just warming the rolls. Sit," she urged.
Seth sat at the table awkwardly as Jessica bustled around him, laying the table and pouring them iced tea from a pitcher. "You've been doing all the cooking lately, woman," he began.
"It helps," she said simply. "Unless…" Seth raised his eyebrows. "I've been wondering…you're the more…creative…cook between the two of us. I know you must be bored with the meals I've been cooking."
"Bored? I hope I haven't given you that impression, woman…I'm grateful! It's nice to come home to a home-cooked meal. I've missed that," he said softly. "I just mean you shouldn't feel like you have to do all the cooking. That's all."
Jessica smiled at him, then glanced at the clock. "The rolls should be ready. Hungry?"
"Starving."
"Good. Let's eat first, shall we?"
"Alright, Jess."
Dinner was quiet, but surprisingly comfortable. Jessica seemed relaxed and open, and that relaxed him. Maybe he wasn't about to get a Dear John letter in person. She fussed a little, but allowed Seth to do the washing up. When he finished, she took his hand and led him to the living room, where they sat on the sofa.
Seth took her hand in his, tracing her veins and knuckles absently. "Jessica," he said after a few moments. "I want to apologize."
"Oh, Seth. There's no need to apologize. It was just a silly argument."
He held her gaze. "I'm not talking about this morning."
"Oh," she murmured. "I didn't think you were." She smiled at him. "But I was hoping."
He smiled back; he couldn't help it. "Jess, it was wrong of me to…well, I should have had more discipline. I ought never to have…at the cabin…so soon after…" God this was excruciating.
She leaned in for a swift kiss, then she cupped his cheek in her hand. "Seth, I'm as much to blame as you." She fixed him with a steely glare. "Though I don't think blame is the right word." She sighed. "I wanted to make love with you." Wanted to? Past tense? He could feel his heart start to race. "I can admit now that you were right. We probably should have waited. It's clear you don't believe I had those kinds of feelings for you before I went to Seattle," she finished delicately.
"I'm sorry, Jess. I never wanted to give you a reason to regret our friendship. I never wanted to stand in your way."
Jessica looked at him quizzically. "Seth, what are you talking about?"
Seth looked at her, incredulous. "I'm trying to apologize for taking advantage of you, for putting you in such an awkward position. I'm trying to tell you I understand." He could feel tears pricking behind his eyes, and he willed them not to fall. "I should go, Jess. Thank you for a wonderful dinner."
Jessica put a hand on his arm. "Go? Seth, I'm not…I'm not ending things between us. For heaven's sake! I'm trying to accept responsibility for rushing us into a physical relationship when clearly it makes you feel so guilty and ashamed!"
"Guilty? Ashamed? Woman, I don't feel either of those things! Do I wish we could have kept things only between us for a little longer? Of course! Do I relish the talk that would come from having a new mattress delivered? No. But I'm not ashamed of you, Jessica Fletcher! I'm ashamed of my behavior," he choked. "That's not the man I want to be."
"Seth, will you please listen to me and try to believe me? I love Frank. I'll always love Frank, just like you'll always love Ruth. And I was afraid…afraid of losing myself again. It was so hard, after Frank died, to rebuild my life." She waved her free hand in the air. "JB Fletcher helped me with that. You were right about her, about me, I mean. I do use her as a sort of shield, almost. I had a difficult go of it after my first book was published. I wasn't ready for that kind of attention. Media attention and personal." She looked at Seth shyly. "There is a story there, and I will tell you, but let's leave that for another time." Seth nodded. "It was easier to hide behind JB Fletcher. As I published more books and got used to the process, it all became easier. Or at least that part did."
She sighed and stared off into space for a moment. Seth was quiet, content to let her gather her thoughts. "At home, I could be myself. Even as I changed, I was able to stay grounded, and that's down to you." Seth felt rooted to the spot by the warm gaze of those blue, blue eyes. "You accepted the ways that I'd changed, but never let me stray too far off course. I came to depend on you." Seth looked surprised. "Not that I ever let you know," she said primly. He laughed and resisted the urge to goose her. "In fact, I was beginning to worry about it, especially after that incident with Marvin and the bats." Seth shifted in his seat. He'd still like to have a word with Marvin, but admittedly that was well down on his list of priorities. No matter. One day. "But I've had a long think, and I realized something."
She looked at Seth expectantly. "You realized it wasn't so terrible to let yourself lean on someone from time to time," he said.
She leaned in closer. "To lean on you from time to time. The only effect David had on our relationship was to accelerate it, Seth. It was going to happen regardless."
The tears did come now, and he let them. Jessica used her thumb to wipe them away. "Can you believe me now? Can you trust me?" Seth nodded. "Then why don't we get married, Seth?" she asked quietly.
TBC