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"How could you go to him after what he had clone to you?" Jimmy asked slowly. "How could you belittle yourself so?"
"Jimmy, I didn't want to go. He begged me on the phone. He said he wanted to see Christie once, at least, and I didn't think I had the right to say no. But when I got there I found he had different intentions."
"What sort of intentions?" Jimmy demanded, his eyes growing hot.
Quietly but quickly I told him everything. He sat down and listened when I got to the description of how Mr. Updike and Mr. Simons had handled it. Then he shook his head.
"You did all this and never told me what was happening?"
"I thought if I could end it quickly . . ."
He shook his head, his eyes filled with pain.
"But I'm your husband, Dawn, and Christie's father now. I was the one to come to, the one who should have protected you both. Instead, you lied to me."
"I thought you would do something terrible to him, Jimmy. I was going to tell you afterward. I tried a few times, but I couldn't do it, and then, when Clara Sue was killed . . ."
"You tried," he spat.
"I did, Jimmy. I couldn't stand the fact that I was lying to you. It's bothered me ever since," I swore.
"And you had Christie in on this deception," he said, shaking his head. "Telling her a jewelry salesman gave her a sample."
"It was better than telling her who he really was, Jimmy," I said. He stared at me so coldly I had to lower my eyes. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you."
"And you wouldn't have, probably," Jimmy said. "I wouldn't have known anything about it if it weren't for Fern."
"Fern?" I looked up quickly.
"She asked Christie about that necklace and found out his name. She remembered who that was, and then she came to me and told me."
"Oh, Jimmy, she was just trying to hurt me, to hurt us. How horrible," I said.
"Sure, go and twist things around. Fern didn't lie, did she? Fern didn't conceal the truth, did she? She told me because she cares about me," he said, poking himself hard in the chest for emphasis. He stood up. "At least someone around here does!" he cried, and he marched out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
"Jimmy!" I screamed after him, but he did not come back.
I lowered my head to my arms on the desk and broke into uncontrollable sobs.
I had hurt the one person who loved me more than anyone in the world. How foolish and stupid I had been to have kept anything at all from him. I didn't deserve him. I made up my mind I would grovel at his feet, if I had to, in order to get him to forgive me.
I left the office to search for him and hurried outside to look for him somewhere on the grounds. I found some of our maintenance people working, but no one had seen Jimmy. Thinking he might have driven off, I went to where he parked his car and found it still there. Distraught and bewildered, I started back to the hotel. As I was walking by the gazebo I happened to look at the rear of the main building and saw the doorway to what had once been Philip's and then Jimmy's hideaway. The door was open. My heart began to flutter.
It was in there, in that forgotten little place where Jimmy and I had first revealed that our affections for each other were more than brotherly and sisterly. It was in there that we had kissed each other romantically and touched each other with the passion of lovers. It brought tears to my eyes to realize that after I had hurt him so and he had felt betrayed, he had gone back there.
"Oh, Jimmy," I cried, and I ran over the lawn to the doorway of the hideaway. I paused at the top of the steps and looked in. The single uncovered light bulb was on, and it cast a pale yellow glow over the otherwise dark room. I walked down the steps slowly and gazed in. Jimmy was on his back on the old cot, his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
"Jimmy," I said softly. He turned slowly and then shook his head and turned away. I rushed across the old dirt and stone floor and knelt down at his side. Without speaking I buried my face in his chest.
"Oh, Jimmy," I cried. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please don't hate me. Please," I begged through my tears.
"I don't hate you, Dawn. I'm just afraid you're becoming too much like the woman you once despised."
"No, Jimmy, I'm not."
He stared at me a moment.
"You know why I was so mad at you when I first heard you had gone to him?"
