future husband but ignoring a few chapters that dealt with childhood experiences that can color your—what was it?—oh, color your adult interpersonal experiences.”
“Are you saying that, due to my parents’ relationship, I’ll be a lousy wife and mother?”
“Not at all. If that were true, I wouldn’t have ever gotten married, what with both my parents each being divorced twice.” Gina placed a comforting hand on her partner’s knee. “I think you’ll be terrific at anything you want to do. You are much stronger than your mother. Remember, she let your father come back time and time again. She forgave him over and over because she loved him and didn’t know what else to do. Maybe if she’d given him a good swift kick now and then things might not have been so tragic later. Or maybe not. But I don’t think you would continue in a relationship with a man who showed up only every three or four months just to take all your money and disappear again.”
“This lecture is so I’ll talk to Trevor the next time he calls?” Jessie gave her friend a searching look. They had little time for heart-to-heart talks anymore. When they had been in college together, they had spent many a long night solving the problems of the world as well as their personal problems while dreaming about forming their partnership. Older than most of the students, they had depended on each other.
“Not really. I think this applies to all the daddy candidates,” Gina answered decisively. “I was wary of Jeff when we first met, and I wasted two-and-a-half years before he convinced me to marry him, remember? Now, enough of this gloom-and-doom stuff. It might be all academic about Trevor. He might not bother to call again, and we have measurements to take before we leave.”
Jessie didn’t answer as she rose to her feet. Why should the thought of Trevor giving up depress her? She was well rid of him. It made about as much sense as turning on the pre-game show to the basketball play-off last night. Wouldn’t Gina have a field day with that piece of news? she wondered morosely, following her into the house. Gina knew that Jessie loathed basketball.
Jessie was humming along with an old Chicago song as she pulled her car into the Dalrymple house’s driveway a week later. Though she’d had a long day, she wanted to see if the green floral fabric she’d found this afternoon for the back turret bedroom would be too dark in artificial light. Once that was done, she could head home to take a soothing bath and slip into her sweats.
With a frustrated sigh, she wished that the owners would come home soon. Picking out two or three fabric alternatives for each room was double the work. Did they want contemporary, true Victorian, or a mixture of both? However, she had to admit that delving into the various patterns and styles kept her mind from wandering down dangerous paths.
Still humming, she slung her tote bag over her shoulder and headed for the front steps. She didn’t notice the dim light from inside the house until she reached the porch. Maybe she had gotten her wish. When the front door opened, her heart leaped into her throat.
“Aren’t you going to say, ‘Welcome home, Trevor’?” he asked after she had stared at him for what seemed like a good five minutes. He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest. His attitude was one of eager anticipation.
She wanted to smack his cheerful grin off his face but was immediately ashamed of the impulse. It showed only the frazzled state of her nerves where the man was concerned. As Gina predicted, he had stopped calling. Just when she thought it was safe, Trevor was back.
“What are you doing here?” she managed with creditable calm, though a dreadful suspicion was lurking in the back of her mind. How did he always manage to unbalance her in just a few seconds? She could keep her temper with the surliest contractor or an indecisive client, but
“Are you saying that, due to my parents’ relationship, I’ll be a lousy wife and mother?”
“Not at all. If that were true, I wouldn’t have ever gotten married, what with both my parents each being divorced twice.” Gina placed a comforting hand on her partner’s knee. “I think you’ll be terrific at anything you want to do. You are much stronger than your mother. Remember, she let your father come back time and time again. She forgave him over and over because she loved him and didn’t know what else to do. Maybe if she’d given him a good swift kick now and then things might not have been so tragic later. Or maybe not. But I don’t think you would continue in a relationship with a man who showed up only every three or four months just to take all your money and disappear again.”
“This lecture is so I’ll talk to Trevor the next time he calls?” Jessie gave her friend a searching look. They had little time for heart-to-heart talks anymore. When they had been in college together, they had spent many a long night solving the problems of the world as well as their personal problems while dreaming about forming their partnership. Older than most of the students, they had depended on each other.
“Not really. I think this applies to all the daddy candidates,” Gina answered decisively. “I was wary of Jeff when we first met, and I wasted two-and-a-half years before he convinced me to marry him, remember? Now, enough of this gloom-and-doom stuff. It might be all academic about Trevor. He might not bother to call again, and we have measurements to take before we leave.”
Jessie didn’t answer as she rose to her feet. Why should the thought of Trevor giving up depress her? She was well rid of him. It made about as much sense as turning on the pre-game show to the basketball play-off last night. Wouldn’t Gina have a field day with that piece of news? she wondered morosely, following her into the house. Gina knew that Jessie loathed basketball.
Jessie was humming along with an old Chicago song as she pulled her car into the Dalrymple house’s driveway a week later. Though she’d had a long day, she wanted to see if the green floral fabric she’d found this afternoon for the back turret bedroom would be too dark in artificial light. Once that was done, she could head home to take a soothing bath and slip into her sweats.
With a frustrated sigh, she wished that the owners would come home soon. Picking out two or three fabric alternatives for each room was double the work. Did they want contemporary, true Victorian, or a mixture of both? However, she had to admit that delving into the various patterns and styles kept her mind from wandering down dangerous paths.
Still humming, she slung her tote bag over her shoulder and headed for the front steps. She didn’t notice the dim light from inside the house until she reached the porch. Maybe she had gotten her wish. When the front door opened, her heart leaped into her throat.
“Aren’t you going to say, ‘Welcome home, Trevor’?” he asked after she had stared at him for what seemed like a good five minutes. He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest. His attitude was one of eager anticipation.
She wanted to smack his cheerful grin off his face but was immediately ashamed of the impulse. It showed only the frazzled state of her nerves where the man was concerned. As Gina predicted, he had stopped calling. Just when she thought it was safe, Trevor was back.
“What are you doing here?” she managed with creditable calm, though a dreadful suspicion was lurking in the back of her mind. How did he always manage to unbalance her in just a few seconds? She could keep her temper with the surliest contractor or an indecisive client, but
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