Natural Attraction Page 19

  “Jess, about that assignment.” Mark wasn’t smiling. He was deadly serious. Jessie couldn’t see that. All she could see were the happy children in his arms. The children she’d refused to give him. Why shouldn’t he be here, with Kerry, a woman who could make his dreams come true?

  “No, Mark. I really am far too busy. Please, get someone else for it. I have to go.”

  “Good-bye, Jessie.” Kerry stuck her head around the kitchen door before Mark could answer. He moved a step closer to Jessie but she sidestepped him agilely as she headed for the door.

  “Jessie.” Peter still clung to his shoulder, sticky cookie-covered hands in his dark hair. Mark jerked his head back instinctively. Nathan’s shrill little-boy voice cut off what he was about to say as he bounced excitedly against the tension of Mark’s outstretched hand.

  “Higher, higher, Uncle Mark. I want to jump higher. Lift me up. Way up.”

  “Thanks for the invitation to your mother’s wedding, Jessie,” Kerry called across the room. “I’m sure Mark will be there to help me with the boys. I doubt if Mrs. Mollicut will be up and around by Saturday.”

  “What? I…sure I will.” Mark looked almost trapped, or was that her own imagination painting the dim afternoon light in shades she still so desperately wanted to see? Mark at the wedding. Jessie hadn’t counted on that. There’d been no invitation addressed to him in her mother’s spidery scrawl.

  “You’re both very welcome.” Why had she tendered the verbal invitation to Kerry at the beginning of the week? Naturally, she would assume she could bring a guest, and naturally, it would be Mark Elliot. It would be a fabulously ironic joke if she hadn’t played it on herself.

  “Jessie, we have to talk.” Mark’s tone of command didn’t phase Jessie at all this time. She was too numb for it to penetrate. She shook her head, moving toward the door.

  Kerry’s melodious voice drifted back to Jessie as she shut the door far too quietly behind her. “Mark, this mousse looks absolutely sinfully delicious.”

  Chapter Ten

  “MRS. PARKER…MRS. PARKER…MOTHER!” Jessie let a note of amused, tolerant exasperation slip into her voice.

  The newly married Mrs. Parker swung around from the tray of assorted cheeses, olives and pickled onions she was inspecting with a critical eye. “Mrs. Parker? Oh, that’s me!” Marta’s laughter was as bright as the sweetheart roses in the bouquet on the kitchen table. “Don’t tell Hi I didn’t even blink an eye when you called me that. He’ll be insulted. I’ll have to get used to it in a hurry.”

  “I don’t think it will take you all that long or be that difficult a task,” Jessie said as she uncovered the plastic wrap from a tray of meats provided by the supermarket’s deli counter. “This stuff looks so good. I’m starved. I think I missed lunch.”

  “I know you did. You were hanging crepe paper bells in the living room when the rest of us ate lunch.” Jessie’s brother and his family, along with Marta’s sister, Lettie, had arrived from Pennsylvania the day before and were bivouacked in nearly every room. Her house was filled to overflowing, but the addition of so many helping hands had made the last minute wedding preparations go more smoothly. The private candlelight ceremony had been lovely.

  “Jess, are you okay?” Marta cut in on Jessie’s thoughts. “You’ve beginning to look a little peaked to me.”

  “I’m fine, Mom, just daydreaming about the wedding. And don’t say that. Do you know how hard I’ve worked to lose twelve pounds?” Jessie frowned severely, hurrying to change the subject. She didn’t look her best, she knew; although the teal-blue silk dress was especially becoming to her coloring. She just hadn’t been sleeping or eating well. Dieting and the press of Marta’s wedding preparations was as good an excuse as any for her malaise. Mark Elliot, of course, was the reason.

  “You look better with a little more meat on your bones,” Marta pronounced. “Hi was telling me so just this morning.”

  “I have plenty of meat on my bones,” Jessie said belligerently. “And Hi is notoriously prejudiced toward well-endowed ladies. Now, where’s the champagne for toasts?”

  “On the back porch. Why take up room in the fridge when it’s only a few degrees above freezing out there?” She handed the hors d’oeuvre tray to Ann as she wafted through the kitchen on three-inch heels amid a cloud of perfume. “Put this on the dining-room table, honey, to the left of the cake,” Marta instructed.

  “You made the prettiest bride, Grandma. But where did you get that awful apron you’re wearing?”

  “In the bottom of the linen drawer. I don’t intend to spend my wedding reception trying to hide a stain on my dress,” Marta retorted sharply, glancing down at the all concealing, faded cotton garment. “I’ll take it off before I leave the kitchen.”

  Jessie kicked the back door shut with her heel as Ann made an undulating exit through the swinging door to the dining room. “What was that all about?” She held a bottle of champagne in each hand. A third was tucked under her left arm.

  “Nothing. I’ll call Tim to open those.” Marta stuck her head through the dining-room pass-through to summon Jessie’s older brother. He appeared in the kitchen moments later looking ill at ease in a vested suit and tie. Jessie was so much more used to seeing him in faded denim work pants or worn jeans and T-shirts. He was as tall as Mark, but broader, heavier. He reminded Jessie so much of their father, with his long, serious face, beaked nose and slightly prominent ears. Tonight he looked very handsome in his sister’s eyes and she told him so.

  “You always did take after your father,” Marta added to the compliment.

  “And you were the prettiest bride in the world,” Tim responded in kind. “After Helen,” he added as an afterthought. Jessie’s sharp-tongued sister-in-law was entertaining the Reverend Armstrong in the living room. The minister’s Down East accent never failed to captivate the other woman, and when the Reverend had an appreciative audience, it broadened out to the consistency of good chowder.

  Tim dealt with the wine efficiently and in a few moments he was rewarded with three satisfying pops. “A toast, ladies,” Tim proposed expansively as he poured three brimming glasses from the tray on the pass-through ledge. “To many long happy years for Mom in her new life.”

  “To your new love and your new home in Florida,” Jessie added. Marta put down her half-empty glass with a ringing chime of crystal on wood.

  “Oh, Jess. I’m going to miss you all so.” Marta’s eyes looked suspiciously bright with unshed tears.

  “Mom, for heaven’s sake. We’ve been through all this.” Tim remained silent. He’d gone over the same ground with his mother earlier. He’d let Jessie handle this round. He continued to fill champagne glasses.

  “I don’t know if I’ll even like Florida,” Marta began the now familiar litany.

  “You’ll have plenty of time to adjust, spending your honeymoon in California visiting Hi’s children.” Jessie cataloged points as she took an empty dark green wine bottle from her brother.

  “That’s the problem. What will his children think of me? I barely remember them from the years they still lived in Pennsylvania.”

  “You’ll knock Hi’s kids off their feet. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how old Rudy Parker used to make excuses to come over to our house when he knew you were baking pumpkin pie?” Tim broke in patiently. “Aren’t you spending Thanksgiving at his place in La Jolla?”

  “Yes, we are,” Marta answered thoughtfully, seeing Tim’s point.

  “I rest my case.” He grinned, passing Jessie the second empty bottle.

  “But his daughter’s…” Marta trailed off, biting her lips.

  “They’ll love you because they can’t help but see how happy you’ve made their father,” Jessie replied firmly. She stepped forward, winding her arms around Marta’s plump, silk-clad shoulders to give her a hug, avoiding the matching silk roses nestled in the small veiled hat she wore. It made her mother look a little like pictures of the Queen Mother, Jessie decided, except t
hat Marta’s hat was far more sedate.

  “Hi is going to be the center of your life from now on, Mom, but we’ll always be there for you,” Tim affirmed gruffly. He added a second giant bear hug to Jessie’s gesture of reassurance. “It’s the best thing that could happen to you.”

  On those words the groom pushed open the swinging door and stepped into the kitchen. “Uh-oh, am I interrupting a family conference?” His voice was so kind and so filled with happiness that Jessie couldn’t restrain her smile.

  His dark old-fashioned tux jacket strained a little over the black cummerbund stretched across his paunch. The bald spot on top of his head caught and reflected the overhead lights. It was plain to see Marta considered him the most handsome man in the world.

  “Just a little filial advice to the bride,” Jessie said with a laugh.

  “I think Mom has a case of the honeymoon jitters,” Tim said jokingly in a dry voice.

  “I have no such thing,” Marta returned in a huff. “Don’t be silly, you two. I may be your mother but I can still teach you a thing or two about life. Hi Parker, take this champagne out to the cake table and don’t spill it on the carpet. We just had it cleaned.”

  “Yes, my dear.” He shuffled over to the tray. “Anything else I should be seeing to, my love?” Marta giggled and gave him a playful, admonishing shake of her finger.

  “Only having a good time,” Jessie ordered. “Now shoo, both of you. This kitchen is beiginning to resemble Grand Central Station.”

  When they were alone again, Marta gave Jessie a level stare. “I still don’t know about spending the next three weeks with his children.”

  “They’ll love you, especially in that hat.”

  “Jessie, don’t be facetious.” Marta’s tone was stringent but she looked pleased at the compliment. “It is a lovely hat.”

  “And you’re a lovely person. We’ll discuss this again when you get back from California.”

  “I am looking forward to the trip. We’ve had so little time alone together these past two weeks…” She let the sentence trail off. “Jessie.”

  Sensing a lecture on her sidetracked love affair with Mark, Jessie hurriedly busied herself hunting for a plate of fresh vegetables and herb dip in the overcrowded refrigerator. “Mom, the girls and I will be fine alone,” she finally answered into the weighted silence.

  “I’m not worried about the girls now, Jess. It’s you. Have you settled anything with Mark?”

  “There’s nothing to settle. Nothing’s changed between us.” That wasn’t true. Kerry Bay had changed everything. At least to Jessie’s way of thinking.

  “Mark loves you.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Jessie placed the tray on the table, pretending to study the colorful array calmly, unemotionally. “He cares about me, yes, but I don’t think he loves me or we wouldn’t have so much trouble communicating our feelings.”

  “Love doesn’t always make you glib and articulate, Jessie. Often it makes it extremely difficult to say what’s most important to you. He loves you.” It was hard to refute Marta’s logic. But Jessie tried.

  “You never see the man but you say that. It’s only because you’re looking at everything through rose-colored glasses.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Marta chided with an agitated swoop of her hands. “It’s obvious to a blind man.”

  “It’s obvious he’s having an affair with Kerry Bay.” There, she’d said it. Jessie didn’t think she could feel any more miserable about it, but saying the words aloud tore a fresh wound in her heart.

  “Are you positive?” Marta looked momentarily taken aback. She fiddled with her wedding rings, then untied the apron strings and slid the garment off her shoulders.

  Jessie nodded mournfully, rearranging radishes in precise geometric designs on the platter. “Yes. He cooked dinner for her last Tuesday night: curried lamb and Amaretto mousse.”

  “Damning evidence.” Marta snorted but she looked puzzled as she shoved the apron onto a towel rack under the sink.

  “He spent the night with her afterward,” Jessie whispered past the lump in her throat. “I’m sure of that.”

  “On whose authority?”

  “Kerry said…” Jessie spun to face her mother. “What does it matter? He cooked for her. For me that’s proof enough. I should know. That’s his specialty. He’s got it down to an art. His seduction techniques are highly developed.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice and didn’t try.

  “So are his survival techniques.” Marta evidently wasn’t going to pursue the matter further. She looked past Jessie, through the window-sized opening in the wall. The shuttered doors had been folded back to facilitate serving the forty or so guests assembled in the living room. One tray of champagne glasses remained, the pale amber liquid dancing with millions of tiny bubbles. “Look at the poor man.” Marta made a clucking sound with her tongue against her teeth.

  Jessie obediently turned her head but kept her eyes squeezed shut. She knew what she’d see. Mark, surrounded by Kerry’s beautiful children and their mother smiling up at him with adoring, worshipful green eyes. “Kerry’s boys are very attached to Mark.”

  “I’ll say,” Marta replied caustically. “They’re crawling all over him.”

  Jessie opened her eyes. The tableau she’d been expecting was there all right, but there were subtle differnces in the scenario. Nathan was tugging none too gently on Mark’s pant leg, his face screwed into an unattractive childish grimace as he made his obvious displeasure at not being allowed to sample the three-tiered wedding cake abundantly clear. Peter, even more obviously needed his diaper changed—there was a suspicious dark patch on the sleeve of Mark’s well-tailored, dark gray, pin-striped suit and the back of Peter’s navy-blue rompers. Kerry did have a dreamy, distant look in her eye but she was staring past Mark as though lost in thoughts of her own, far removed from her surroundings and the man at her side.

  Tim’s equine face appeared in the pass-through once again, blocking Jessie’s view. “Hey, Mom, Jess, come on. I want to get some Polaroids of you and Hi with the cake before you cut it. I know Jessie is official court photographer, but at least you can take these instant shots along to California and show them off to the Parker clan.”

  “That’s a marvellous idea, Timothy. I’ll be out in a moment.” Tim made a face at the use of his seldom-heard baptismal name but obligingly disappeared from the opening with the second tray of goblets.

  Jessie made a grab for one of the glasses of sparkling wine before it got out of reach. She downed it in one long swallow.

  “Better watch how much you imbibe, my dear,” Marta said as she left the kitchen. “You know how low your tolerance to alcohol is.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of holding my liquor,” Jessie answered. Then she smiled. Brilliant bursts of effervescence were going off behind her eyes. If she closed them it was as good as a fireworks display on the Fourth of July. She decided to have another glass of champagne and inspected the three bottles sitting on the counter.

  Two were definitely dead soldiers. The third held a scant few ounces of the starry liquid. Jessie refilled her goblet and sipped more slowly at the sparkling wine. Glass emptied, she picked up the vegetable tray and headed into the dining room. Armed with the champagne’s false courage, she felt able to face Mark and Kerry for the first time. She couldn’t hide in the kitchen all night. People would notice.

  She never had a chance to test her newfound resolve for Kerry pushed open the painted door from the far side. “I’m glad I caught you, Jessie. Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, catching sight of the tray.

  “No, thank you, Kerry. Everything’s under control.” Jessie tried to be as polite as possible. A wayward hiccup punctuated her words. The champagne seemed to have gone straight to her head, probably because of her empty stomach.

  “It was a lovely ceremony,” Kerry went on. “I love candlelight weddings. David and I had a small ceremony very similar to your mother’s.” Ker
ry smiled softly to herself.

  Jessie narrowed brown eyes at the younger woman, blinking once or twice to bring her into focus. Had Mark asked her to marry him? That possibility would account for the dreamy look in her eyes. Pain streaked through Jessie with the speed of light. She needed another glass of champagne. It was an effective over-the-counter anesthetic. She leaned around Kerry’s slim figure and called her brother’s name. “Tim, bring me another glass of champagne, will you?”

  “Will do, Jess.” Tim handed her the glass through the opening and gave her a curious look. “Are you sure you’re all right? Never known you to be such a toper before tonight. Better watch the stuff. It’s potent.”

  “Oh, shut up and go take your pictures,” Jessie muttered with a brilliant hazy smile to take the sting out of the words.

  “Sure thing, Jess.” Tim swung his perplexed gaze in Kerry’s direction, seemed to make a connection that had eluded him before and disappeared back into the noisy gathering of laughing guests.

  “I thought I’d tell you how I made out at the audit yesterday,” Kerry said.

  “I’d forgotten about it,” Jessie said truthfully, but not very tactfully. “How did it go?” She tried to inject a note of genuine interest into the question to cover her lapse of manners. Another hiccup made her cover her mouth with her hand.

  “Very well. You were right, Jessie. I’m going to get several hundred dollars back plus interest. Isn’t that marvellous?”

  “It certainly is.” Jessie stared down at her glass. It was empty again.

  “I’m going to use the money to take a trip. Mark’s offered me an advance on my salary.”

  “How nice.”

  Kerry seemed ill at ease. She glided over to the table where Marta’s bouquet still rested. She picked up the cascade design of pink sweetheart roses and baby’s breath, breathing deeply of the sweet, delicate fragrance. “I’ve been talking to David again this week.” It wasn’t what Jessie had braced herself to hear. She shot Kerry an almost sober glance.