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Jenny ever been in love before? Was that longing in her voice?
Had she ever had options? Was there someone she’d left
behind? Someone she wanted, and thought about, regretted,
and dreamed of?
“Do I?”
Jenny nodded. She turned back to the window, back to the
dark water and the rolling yard, the small strip of beach. “You
do.”
“How ridiculous would I be? A thirty-five-year-old woman
falling for a twenty-one-year-old girl after a lifetime of denial,
of keeping myself in check, in control?”
“I’d say,” Jenny whispered softl
y, “that sometimes things
are beyond our control, even when we seem to have an
ironclad will. Sometimes we do things because we can’t stop
ourselves from doing them. Sometimes they’re wrong, but that
doesn’t really matter. Sometimes we feel things and that can’t
be stop and won’t be stopped. I would say that if she feels the
same way, it’s not ridiculous at all. Tough? Yes. Going to be
difficult to get through? Probably. Tons of obstacles in your
path? Absolutely. Impossible? Not impossible.”
Why did it sound like she was talking to herself and not to
Claire at all?
“Not impossible,” Claire echoed. She was talking to herself
too. Convincing herself. She shivered when she thought of a
future, not the way she’d imagined it. Now when she thought
of it, it looked so different. Like the water. So much the same
on the surface. So mysterious beneath.
“You still up for eating that omelette?” she asked Jenny, a
new lightness in her being that felt very much like
