Glory, Glory Page 4

  He stood so close that she could feel the heat of his body. “Damn it, Glory, what the hell are you talking about?”

  It was then that her control snapped, when she thought of all the Christmases and birthdays she’d missed, all the important occasions, like the appearance of the first tooth and the first faltering step. “God in heaven, Jesse,” she spat, all pain and fury, “I hate you for keeping her from me like that!”

  His hands came to rest on her shoulders, and their weight and strength had a steadying effect. So did the look of honest confusion in his dark eyes. “I get the feeling you’re talking about Liza,” he said evenly. “What I don’t get is why she’s any of your concern.”

  Glory’s tears brimmed and shimmered along her lashes, blurring Jesse’s features. “Liza’s my daughter, damn you,” she sobbed. “Mine and yours! I had her nine years ago in Portland, and your grandfather made me give her up!”

  Jesse let her go and turned away, and she couldn’t see into his eyes or read the expression on his face. “That’s a lie,” he said, his tone so low she could barely hear him.

  Three

  Jesse walked into the mansion’s massive living room, moving like a man lost in a fog, and sank into a leather chair. Glory followed, though he hadn’t invited her, and took a seat on the bench in front of the grand piano, her arms folded.

  She reminded herself that Jesse was a good actor. He’d been actively involved in the drama club in high school and probably college, too. Surely police work required an ability to disguise his emotions.

  It would be no trick at all for him to pretend Liza’s identity came as a surprise to him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, and his voice sounded hollow, raw.

  Glory felt as though she’d been wound into a tight little coil. One slip, one wrong word, and she’d come undone in a spinning spiral. “Spare me the theatrics, Jesse,” she said, wrapping her arms around her middle to hold herself in. “I know your grandfather let you in on his little secret a long time ago.”

  Jesse pushed aside a tray on the coffee table containing the remains of a solitary frozen dinner, and swung his feet up onto the gleaming wood. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch. “This is crazy. Liza was Gresh and Sandy’s child—they adopted her through some agency in California.”

  Glory stood, shaking her head in angry wonder. “You’re incredible,” she breathed, bolting from the piano bench and storming back out into the entry hall. Her coat had fallen off the brass tree, and she retrieved it from the floor.

  She had one arm in the sleeve when Jesse gripped her by the shoulders and whirled her around.

  “Just a minute, Glory,” he told her, his brown eyes hot with golden sparks. “You’re not going to walk in here and announce that you had my baby and then waltz right out again. Furthermore, you’d better face the fact that Liza isn’t that child.”

  In that moment, Glory made up her mind to stay in Pearl River, even if she had to support herself by working at the diner, and become a part of Liza’s life. She’d been forced to give her daughter up once, but she was a big girl now, and it was time she stopped letting people push her around.

  Including Jesse.

  “You can’t get rid of me so easily this time, Jesse. I want to get to know Liza.”

  A myriad of emotions flickered in Jesse’s eyes before he spoke again. “I didn’t ‘get rid’ of you before,” he said, his voice husky. “You left me, remember? Without even taking the trouble to say goodbye. My God, Glory, I looked everywhere for you. I begged your mother to tell me where you were, and Dylan and I got into three or four fights about it.”

  Glory didn’t try to defend herself. She didn’t have the strength. “Dylan couldn’t have told you, Jesse, because he didn’t know.” She paused and sighed. “I guess you and I just didn’t have whatever it takes.”

  She would have turned and walked out of the house then, but without an instant’s warning, Jesse dragged her close and brought his mouth down on hers in a crushing kiss.

  At first Glory was outraged, but as Jesse held her in place, his hands cupping her face, all the tumblers inside her fell into place and her heart swung open like the door of a safe. The old feelings rushed in like a tidal wave, washing away all the careful forgetting she’d done over the biggest part of a decade.

  “Didn’t we?” he countered harshly, when he finally let her go.

  Glory was devastated to realize that Jesse still wielded the same treacherous power over her he had when they were younger. She’d been so certain that things had changed, that she was stronger and wiser now, but he had just proven that at least part of her independence was pure sham.

  For all of it, she was still Jesse’s girl.

  She said a stiff goodbye and opened the door.

  The snowstorm was raging and the wind caught Glory by surprise, pushing her back against the hard wall of Jesse’s chest. She launched herself toward her car, and Jesse was right behind her.

  “That glorified roller skate isn’t going to get you back to town in this weather!” he bellowed. “Get into the truck!”

  Glory considered ignoring his command until she got a glimpse of his face. The look in his eyes, coupled with the rising ferocity of the storm, effectively quashed her plans for a dramatic exit.

  She let Jesse hoist her into his pickup truck and sat there shivering and hating herself while he ran back into the house for keys and a coat.

  “Don’t get the idea that this thing is settled,” she warned, when he was behind the wheel, starting the engine and flipping switches to make the heater come on. The motor roared reassuringly, and Glory had to raise her voice. “Liza is my daughter, and I’m not going to turn my back on her a second time.”

  Jesse shifted the truck into reverse and clamped his teeth together for a moment before answering, “I think it would be better if we talked about this tomorrow, when we’re both feeling a little more rational.”

  Glory folded her hands in her lap. She was overwrought, on the verge of screaming and crying. She desperately needed a night of sound sleep and some time to think. “You’re right,” she said, hating to admit it.

  “Well, glory be,” Jesse marveled in a furious undertone, jamming the gearshift from first to second, and Glory ached inside. Once, he’d used that phrase in a very different way.

  She bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from shouting at him for stealing all those minutes, hours, weeks and months when she could have been with Liza. And she wept as she thought of the things she’d missed.

  When they finally reached the diner, Jesse got out of the truck and came around to help Glory down from the high running board. She pushed his hand aside, and suddenly she couldn’t contain her anger any longer.

  She stood staring up at him, her hands knotted in the pockets of her coat. “You cheated me out of so many things,” she said coldly. “First-grade pictures, Jesse. Dentist appointments and Halloween costumes and bedtime stories. You had no right!”

  His hand crushed the lapels of her coat together, his strength raised her onto her tiptoes. “I loved you,” he seethed. “I would have done anything for you, including break my back at the sawmill for the rest of my life to support you and our baby. I’ve been cheated out of a few things, too, Glory. I figure we’re even.”

  With that, he released her and climbed back into the truck.

  Glory grimaced as he sped away from the curb, his tires flinging slush in every direction and then screeching loudly on a patch of bare pavement.

  Delphine was waiting up when Glory let herself into the apartment. A symmetrical five-foot Christmas tree stood in a corner of the living room, fragrant and undecorated.

  “Was that Jesse?” Delphine asked without preamble.

  Glory sighed. “Yes,” she answered despondently, peeling off her gloves and coat and putting them away in a tiny closet.

  “He sure had his shorts in a wad about something,” Delphine commented, obviously
fishing for more information.

  “Sit down, Mama,” Glory said wearily.

  Delphine was sipping herb tea from a pretty china cup as she settled herself at one end of the sofa. “If you’re going to tell me that Jesse was the father of your baby, Glory, save it. It’s no flash.”

  Glory had a pounding headache, and she sat opposite her mother in a cheap vinyl chair, resting her elbows on her knees and rubbing both temples with her fingertips. “There’s a lot more to it than that,” she said wearily, wondering how to start. “Mama, you’ve lived here in Pearl River all this time. You must know about the child Jesse’s brother and his wife adopted.”

  The teacup rattled against its saucer as Delphine set it on the coffee table. It was plain that she was making some calculations. “Yes,” she said in an uncertain tone. “It was tragic when they died. Everybody said that plane crash brought on the judge’s first stroke.”

  Glory nodded glumly. “Mama, the baby they adopted was mine.” The tears she had been battling all evening welled up and trickled down her cheeks. “Jesse knew—that’s the worst part. He sided with his grandfather.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Delphine frowned thoughtfully. “I’d have thought it would be more Jesse’s style to hunt you down in Portland and confront you with the facts. He was shattered when you left, Glory—it was all I could do to keep myself from giving him the address of that home for unwed mothers you were staying in. He definitely wasn’t buying my standard story that you were back East, living with my sister and attending a private school, but I think everybody else did.”

  Sniffling, Glory thrust herself out of her chair and went into the kitchenette for a paper towel. Her reflection showed in the window over the sink, and she could see that her mascara was smeared all over her face and her hair looked as if she’d just stuck one hand into a toaster.

  She mopped her cheeks with the towel, not caring what she looked like, and went back to the living room. Seated in her chair again, she blew her nose vengefully. “You had a lot on your mind that summer, with me pregnant right out of high school and Dylan going off to the air force.”

  Delphine leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle. “Why didn’t you want Dylan to know about the baby, Glory? We were a family—we shared everything.”

  Glory sighed. There was no point in keeping the secret any longer; Dylan couldn’t be hurt by anything Judge Bainbridge or anyone else might do. “Because Jesse’s grandfather said he’d have Dylan arrested for something serious, so the air force wouldn’t take him. I was left with only one choice.”

  The color drained from Delphine’s cheeks. “My God. Glory, why didn’t you tell me all this then?”

  “Because you would have told Dylan, and he’d have done something really stupid and gotten himself into even worse trouble.”

  Delphine reached across to clasp Glory’s hand. “All of this is in the past,” she said with a sigh and a resigned shrug. “What will you do now?”

  Glory took a deep breath before answering, “I’m going to stay right here in Pearl River, so I can be near Liza.”

  “That might not be wise, dear,” Delphine pointed out gently. “Liza’s life will be turned upside down. She’ll be terribly confused.”

  Shoving a hand through her rumpled hair, Glory sighed again. “I’m not going to tell her who I am, Mama,” she said sadly. “I just want to be her friend.”

  Delphine rose off the old-fashioned couch and folded it down flat. “It’s late, sweetheart,” she said, disappearing into her bedroom for a few moments and returning with blankets, sheets and a pillow. “And you don’t have to make any decisions tonight. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  Together the two made up the bed, and Glory went into the bathroom to change into her nightgown, wash away her makeup, and brush her teeth. When she returned, Delphine was waiting, perched on the arm of a chair.

  “Glory, I know you’ve had a shock,” she said quietly, “and I understand that your mind is in an uproar. But please don’t forget how hard you worked to put yourself through school and build a fine career. Pearl River isn’t going to be able to offer you what a big city could.”

  There was nothing Glory wanted more than to be close to her child. She would have lived in a metropolis or a remote Alaskan fishing village and given up any job. She kissed her mother’s cheek without speaking, and Delphine went off to her room.

  Glory got out the photo album and flipped to the page where Bridget McVerdy’s picture was displayed. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of her couch bed, she touched the eternally youthful face and marveled. If she hadn’t been one to pore over old family portraits, she’d never have suspected the truth about Gresham and Sandy Bainbridge’s adopted daughter, even though it all seemed so obvious now.

  After a long time, Glory set the album back in its place in the cabinet of her mother’s old-fashioned stereo, switched out the lamp and crawled into bed.

  Beyond the living-room windows, in the glow of the street lamps, transparent, silvery snow edged in gold drifted and swirled hypnotically.

  Glory settled deeper into her pillow and yawned. Tomorrow she would pay a visit to Ilene Bainbridge, who ran a bookstore at the other end of Main Street. Glory had never met Ilene before, since, according to Delphine, the woman hadn’t come to Pearl River to live until after the judge’s first stroke.

  Her mind drifted from the future to the past, back and back, to the night Liza was probably conceived. She and Jesse had gone to the lake for a moonlight picnic after the spring dance, and spread a blanket under a shimmering cottonwood tree….

  The leaves above them caught the light of the moon and quivered like thousands of coins, and Jesse’s dark eyes burned as he watched Glory take sparkling water, delicate sandwiches and fruit from the picnic basket. The surface of the lake was dappled with starlight, and soft music flowed from the radio of Jesse’s flashy convertible.

  He caught her wrist in one hand and pulled her to her feet to stand facing him on the blanket. “Dance with me,” he said.

  She’d already kicked off her high-heeled shoes. Laughing, Glory cuddled close to Jesse and raised her head for his kiss. He took her into his arms at the same time he was lowering his mouth to hers.

  As always, Jesse’s kiss electrified Glory. She didn’t protest when he smoothed her white eyelet dress off her shoulders, his hands lightly stroking her skin as he bared it. She and Jesse meant to get married.

  Glory’s naked breasts glowed like the finest white opal when he uncovered them. The nipples hardened and reached for him, because they knew the pleasure Jesse could give.

  “Glory be,” he whispered in a strangled voice. “You’re so beautiful it hurts to look at you.”

  She reached up with both hands to unpin her hair, and while her arms were raised, Jesse leaned forward and caught a coral-colored morsel between his lips.

  Glory moaned and tried to lower her arms, but Jesse wouldn’t let her. He closed one hand over both her wrists and held them firmly in place, and he gave as much pleasure as he took.

  In the next few minutes, their clothes seemed to dissolve. Jesse lowered Glory gently to the blanket and stretched out beside her. While they kissed, his hand moved restlessly over her breasts and her taut stomach.

  “Forever,” he said breathlessly, his lips moving against the flesh of her neck. “I’ll love you forever.”

  Jesse had long since taught Glory to desire him—their first encounter had taken place on that very spot just a few months before, and she didn’t want to talk, not even about forever. Her young body was hungry, and she couldn’t think beyond the moment.

  “Make love to me, Jesse,” she whispered, teasing him by nibbling at his lower lip, and he poised himself above her with a moan. She tasted his earlobe and kissed his neck, and when he entered her with a sudden, desperate thrust, she received him eagerly.

  “Tell me you love me,” he pleaded raggedly. His back was moist under Glory’s hands, and she could see a fine sheen
of perspiration glistening on his forehead and along his upper lip.

  Her own body was catching fire, and she was moving faster and faster to meet his thrusts and increase the friction. “Jesse—you know—I do—”

  “Say it!”

  “I love you,” she gasped as her body arched suddenly, like a bowstring drawn taut, and pleasure splintered through her. “Oh, God, Jesse, I love you!”

  Now, lying on a made-down couch in her mother’s living room a full decade later, Glory wept. Those two trusting, innocent children were gone for all eternity, replaced by angry and embittered adults who could barely exchange a civil word.

  In the morning, just as she’d expected, Glory looked terrible. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and there were shadows underneath them, purple as bruises. She showered, put on jeans and a navy blue turtleneck sweater, and pulled her hair back into a French braid. Knowing there would be no hiding the ravages of the night before, she wore very little makeup—just some blusher and lip gloss.

  Delphine presented her with a steaming cup of coffee and a bowl of hot oatmeal when she arrived in the bustling diner. The short-order cook was busy in the kitchen, frying up traditional breakfasts for a hungry crowd.

  Glory tried to fade into the wall at the end of the counter, but there was no such luck. People knew she was back in town, and they were anxious to talk with her.

  No sooner had the telephone lineman gotten off his stool to go out and battle the weather than someone else replaced him. By the time she’d finished her breakfast, Glory had explained to three people that she’d be staying on in Pearl River for a while and agreed just as often that, yes, it was about time her mother finally remarried.

  She was just about to make an escape when the little bells over the diner’s door jingled and a stream of cold air swept into the warm, brightly lit interior.

  “Good heavens, Jesse,” Delphine fussed as she set four breakfast specials down in front of as many customers, “shut the door. The furnace in this place burns five-dollar bills!”

  Glory felt her throat go tight, as she watched Jesse push the door closed and grin at Delphine. It seemed to Glory that everyone in the place was either looking at him or at her.