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She slips her arm around me and her warm little body fits perfectly next to mine. She looks up at me and says, “I really am. Now let’s go to the women’s quarters and help me find my phone and my handbag so I can get the fuck out of here for good.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jane
Shep’s house is a tall, narrow, two-story brownstone in the historic district.
It feels like home even before I go inside.
“Sesame Street,” I say.
“Excuse me?” Shepherd asks with a smile in his voice.
“I remember Sesame Street. We didn’t watch much TV, but I was allowed to watch Sesame Street once in a while as a kid. Your house reminds me of it.”
It really does. It’s charming and historic outside, with arched windows and wide stone front steps.
Just looking up at the front of this building makes me feel cozy. Wrapped. I choose to hang on to this feeling. It’s the end of a taut but sturdy thread. I have a lot to work on, mentally. Emotionally. I don’t know what’s on the other end of this thread, but I know, somehow, that I can trust it.
The inside of Shep’s house is a mix of old and new. The front door opens onto an inviting and warm hallway with an oak staircase and an old-fashioned oriental run. There are Art Deco tiles in the entryway and loads of plants absorbing the south-facing light that streams in through the street-side windows.
I feel so at home already, I plop my handbag and phone in the handwoven basket under the antique butler table.
I walk over and run my hands along the smooth surface and look up in the vintage Deco mirror on the wall.
This is the first time that I’ve looked in a mirror since I found myself on the park bench Friday morning.
Shep slides up behind me and brushes my hair out of my eyes.
“I almost forgot what I look like,” I say. His hands feel so good in my hair, and it’s distracting me from what I need to say.
“Shep, I’m scared,” I say.
He’s about to kiss the back of my neck, but he stops halfway and makes eye contact with me in the mirror.
“Scared of what?”
“I’m scared that now that you know the real me, now that you know I’m not Jane, but I’m some strange, backwoods girl named Hildie Mae, you’ll change your mind about me.”
Shep takes my shoulders and spins me around. He cups my face and locks onto my eyes with fire. “You’re not that girl anymore. You’re under no-damn-body’s thumb. You’re Jane. And you have nothing to be ashamed of. You are beautiful and brave. You have a wide open, kind, fierce nature that spills out of you like sunshine, and I want drink in every drop of it.”
“Shep. Stop.”
“No, I won’t stop. You’re going to listen to me even if it hurts. You were supposed to find Hanley in bed with someone else. Don’t you think it’s better you found them when you did, instead of after the wedding? What would you have done then? And don’t you think Hanley and Bryce are better off too? Imagine if someone else had walked in on them? Their secret is safe with you, isn’t it?”
I reply with a yes but my voice is cracking.
“Are you going to judge them for being in love?”
I shake my head no.
“If anything, I love you more now that I know what you came from.”
I have to squeeze my eyes to keep the tears from showing. “I came from a pretty weird place.”
Shep is so close now I can feel his breath on my lips as he says, “Don’t we all, Sweet Jane.”
Chapter Eighteen
