Expectations. Brenda Novak
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you going out of town for Thanksgiving this year, Mrs. Jones?” the checker was asking an older white-haired woman dressed in an expensive velour jogging suit.
Having already paid, Mrs. Jones paused in wheeling her groceries away. “Not this year, Karen. We usually go to a cabin at Lake Tahoe, but I think I’m ready to have the family out here. The grandkids are getting older, so I don’t think it’ll be too hard on me. Say, did you ever try that stuffing recipe I gave you?”
The checker propped a freckled arm on the back of her booth. “No, but I tried one off the bag of bread crumbs I bought here, and it wasn’t too bad. I thought this year I’d add a bit of celery, even though my husband doesn’t really like celery. It’s my Thanksgiving, too, and my mother always put celery in her stuffing.”
Jenna’s toe tapped, and her eyes darted from the cash register to the pregnancy test. It seemed to be lying on the conveyor belt, screaming, “Jenna thinks she’s pregnant!” She craned her neck to see down the aisle and, just as she feared, spotted Adam and Ryan on their way back.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry…um, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m kind of in a hurry.”
The checker smiled with forced tolerance. “Sure. I’ll be right with you.” She pushed away from the back of the booth. “Well, Mrs. Jones, tell your husband I said hello. And maybe I’ll try that stuffing recipe of yours this year.”
By the time Mrs. Jones said her goodbyes and the checker turned her attention to Jenna’s purchases, it was too late to ask her to ring up the pregnancy test separately. Adam and Ryan were within hearing distance, and the sight of it, right there in front of them both, was almost enough to give Jenna heart palpitations. She didn’t want Ryan to get his hopes up about having a sibling unless it was true, and she didn’t want Adam to know, period. He’d already made her feel like a fool, appearing out of nowhere in his flashy car and his expensive suit, while Dennis had ruined their credit and lost them their 1996 Oldsmobile, which wasn’t much of a car to begin with, as well as their house.
Besides, the whole thing might be a false alarm.
Jenna’s eyes flicked over the pregnancy test again. Maybe Adam and Ryan wouldn’t notice it, she prayed, but lost all hope of that when the checker tried to run the thing through her scanner and it wouldn’t beep. Holding it almost at eye level and frowning, she said, “I wonder why this isn’t in our system.” She brought the microphone to her lips. “Johnny? Would you get me the price of the First Choice Pregnancy Tests? Aisle nine, I think.”
Jenna took a gulp of air and held it as Adam’s jaw dropped and his eyes flew to her face. She gave an uncomfortable laugh. “Where did that come from?” she asked. “That’s not mine.”
The checker blinked at her. “You don’t want this?”
“No, it’s not mine.” Jenna could feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but she tried to act as natural as possible. “Maybe it belonged to the person in front of me,” she said, because there was no one behind her.
“Mrs. Jones?” The checker scoffed outright. “She must be sixty-five. I don’t think so, honey.” She shoved the pregnancy test off to one side, where the smiling woman on the box stared at Jenna.
The next few minutes stretched into what felt like an hour. Jenna kept her eyes on her checkbook until it was time to pay, then Adam gently nudged her aside and threw two twenties on the counter. She didn’t fight him. She only wanted to get out of the grocery store and away from the First Choice box as soon as possible.
“Thank you, sir, and come again.” The checker smiled at Adam, her thick makeup creasing as she handed him the receipt.
Adam gave the lighter bag to Ryan and carried the other out himself. He didn’t say anything as they walked back to the car, but Jenna didn’t have to look at his face to know he wasn’t smiling.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE BRINY SMELL of the sea wafted through the cracks of the old building, permeating the entire room Jenna used as her studio. She sat staring at a half-finished stained-glass window portraying a small lake surrounded by great willowy trees. Natural light, which flooded the square room through a series of skylights, passed through several of the finished pieces hanging from the rafters and made small rainbows of color on the cement floor. Shortly after she’d moved in, the Durhams had hired their contractor to turn one of the old gardening sheds into a small studio for her, and there wasn’t another place on earth she felt more at home.
Outside, Adam and Ryan were talking and laughing as they tossed a football, but Jenna felt no inclination to join them. She’d fled to her studio as soon as they returned from the store and hadn’t come out since. Though normally she would have spent some of her day with Ryan, working on a school project due next week, he seemed to be occupied well enough without her. That her son already adored Adam, her nemesis, after only one day in his presence annoyed her—even more than Adam catching her trying to purchase a pregnancy test.
Allowing herself a deep heartfelt sigh, she picked up her carbide glass cutter, determined to finish the lake or to sit up all night until she did. She was using antique glass, one of the most delicate and expensive kinds, to make the water, but it varied in thickness by almost three-quarters of an inch. She couldn’t get a clean cut, couldn’t get the feel of her medium. Normally her hands worked almost independently of her mind, somehow sensing just how much pressure to use to score the glass without breaking it, how to tap gently near the cut and separate the two pieces. But not today.
After ruining yet another section that was supposed to be a lapping wave, Jenna slouched onto her stool. At this rate, she would be buried in broken glass by sunset! She couldn’t concentrate. Not with Adam just outside.
Standing again, she skirted the waist-high worktable and walked to the back of the studio where utility cupboards lined the wall. Taking out a large rectangular window she’d finished shortly after returning to Mendocino, she lifted the fabric she’d used to protect it and gazed down at a secluded cove—the stretch of beach where Adam had made love to her the first time.
She kept this piece hidden, as though someone else might guess its history, but really there was no need. With tall black cliffs and a green, tempestuous sea, it could depict almost any part of the Northern California coast. Except for the house she’d put in the background. She’d seen the same house over Adam’s shoulder that day sixteen years ago; she’d gone back to look at it since and had created a perfect likeness.
Closing her eyes, Jenna drifted back in time and felt the sand of the cove radiating heat beneath her naked body, the wind stirring her hair. When she thought of how Adam had touched her, his voice from outside the shed made the memory that much more real. She shivered as she relived it, feeling his hands move over her flesh, raising goose bumps along their path, as they curled around her limbs with the strength of the sea.
Moving in unison with the water that lapped at their feet, he’d covered her body with his, gently coaxing her to succumb to him like the pull of the tide. Let go…let go…
She’d wrapped her arms around him and relinquished control, and soon Adam began to pound into her with the rhythm of the waves against the rocks. Then her nerves tightened and leaped, like the spray flinging itself freely into the air, and she seemed to burst into a million fragments of brilliant light.
Opening her eyes, Jenna stared numbly down at her own representation of that day. It reminded her of what it felt like to be loved.
To be loved by Adam.
“Incredible.”
Jenna jumped and nearly dropped the window, but Adam’s sure hands grabbed hold of it.
“Damn, don’t you believe in knocking?” she snapped.
Adam’s gaze didn’t falter from the stained-glass depiction of the cove. “I did knock. You didn’t answer.”
Jenna’s eyes moved guiltily to his face. Maybe she