They were having dessert and Adam still had not said one word that could be misconstrued. Jennifer had been building up her defenses for nothing, fending off an attack that had never materialized, and she felt like a fool. She wondered what Adam would have said if he had known what she had been thinking all evening. Jennifer smiled at her own vanity.
“I never got a chance to thank you for the clients you sent me,” Jennifer said. “I did telephone you a few times, but—”
“I know.” Adam hesitated, then added awkwardly, “I didn’t want to return your phone calls.” Jennifer looked at him in surprise. “I was afraid to,” he said simply.
And there it was. He had taken her by surprise, caught her off guard, but his meaning was unmistakable. Jennifer knew what was coming next. And she did not want him to say it. She did not want him to be like all the others, the married men who pretended they were single. She despised them and she did not want to despise this man.
Adam said quietly, “Jennifer, I want you to know I’m married.” She sat there staring at him, her mouth open.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.” He smiled wryly. “Well, there really was no sooner, was there?”
Jennifer was filled with a strange confusion. “Why—why did you ask me to dinner, Adam?”
“Because I had to see you again.”
Everything began to seem unreal to Jennifer. It was as though she were being pulled under by some giant tidal wave. She sat there listening to Adam saying all the things he felt, and she knew that every word was true. She knew because she felt the same way. She wanted him to stop before he said too much. She wanted him to go on and say more.
“I hope I’m not offending you,” Adam said.
There was a sudden shyness about him that shook Jennifer.
“Adam, I—I—”
He looked at her and even though they had not touched, it was as if she were in his arms.
Jennifer said shakily, “Tell me about your wife.”
“Mary Beth and I have been married fifteen years. We have no children.”
“I see.”
“She—we decided not to have any. We were both very young when we got married. I had known her a long time. Our families were neighbors at a summer place we had in Maine. When she was eighteen, her parents were killed in a plane crash. Mary Beth was almost insane with grief. She was all alone. I—we got married.”
He married her out of pity and he’s too much of a gentleman to say so, Jennifer thought.
“She’s a wonderful woman. We’ve always had a very good relationship.”
He was telling Jennifer more than she wanted to know, more than she could handle. Every instinct in her warned her to get away, to flee. In the past she had easily been able to cope with the married men who had tried to become involved with her, but Jennifer knew instinctively that this was different. If she ever let herself fall in love with this man, there would be no way out. She would have to be insane ever to begin anything with him.
Jennifer spoke carefully. “Adam, I like you very much. I don’t get involved with married men.”
He smiled, and his eyes behind the glasses held honesty and warmth. “I’m not looking for a backstreet affair. I enjoy being with you. I’m very proud of you. I’d like us to see each other once in a while.”
Jennifer started to say, What good would that do? but the words came out, “That would be good.”
So we’ll have lunch once a month, Jennifer thought. It can’t hurt anything.
11
One of Jennifer’s first visitors to her new office was Father Ryan. He wandered around the three small rooms and said, “Very nice, indeed. We’re getting up in the world, Jennifer.”
Jennifer laughed. “This isn’t exactly getting up in the world, Father. I have a long way to go.”
He eyed her keenly. “You’ll make it. By the way, I went to visit Abraham Wilson last week.”
“How is he getting along?”
“Fine. They have him working in the prison machine shop. He asked me to give you his regards.”
“I’ll have to visit him myself one day soon.”
Father Ryan sat in his chair, staring at her, until Jennifer said, “Is there something I can do for you, Father?”
He brightened. “Ah, well, I know you must be busy, but now that you’ve brought it up, a friend of mine has a bit of a problem. She was in an accident. I think you’re just the one to help her.”
Automatically Jennifer replied, “Have her come in and see me, Father.”
“I think you’ll have to go to her. She’s a quadruple amputee.”
Connie Garrett lived in a small, neat apartment on Houston Street. The door was opened for Jennifer by an elderly white-haired woman wearing an apron.
“I’m Martha Steele, Connie’s aunt. I live with Connie. Please come in. She’s expecting you.”
Jennifer walked into a meagerly furnished living room. Connie Garrett was propped up with pillows in a large armchair. Jennifer was shocked by her youth. For some reason, she had expected an older woman. Connie Garrett was about twenty-four, Jennifer’s age. There was a wonderful radiance in her face, and Jennifer found it obscene that there was only a torso with no arms or legs attached to it. She repressed a shudder.
Connie Garrett gave her a warm smile and said, “Please sit down, Jennifer. May I call you Jennifer? Father Ryan has told me so much about you. And, of course, I’ve seen you on television. I’m so glad you could come.”
Jennifer started to reply, “My pleasure,” and realized how inane it would have sounded. She sat down in a soft comfortable chair opposite the young woman.