“Have you two ever, you know, gottenromantic?”
“What? No. Geez, Jo. He’s still in love with his wife. And I’m not in the market forromance.”
“You do know he’s turned down Buck for golf. A game he loves. He’s not gone riding or to the shooting range.” JoJo tapped Gemma’s shoulder as if to really get her attention. “We invited him to the Vegas concert, a city on his bucket list, and herespectfullydeclined.”
“Good, he’s not missing anything.”
“I think he’s in love.”
“If you’re going to talk crazy, I’m leaving.” Gemma collected the dirty mugs and headed for the door downstairs, her hip bothering her more today than in the past. She blamed sleeping in the barn but until the puppies were strong enough to be on their own, she’d deal with it.
“You mean to tell me two gorgeous, kind, intelligent people are hanging out together all day and sometimes all night and there’s no chemistry?”
“I never said we didn’t have chemistry.” Gemma continued down the stairs, wishing back her words. But JoJo caught them.
“I knew it! I told Buck, ‘They’d make such a good couple.’”
“We are not a couple. Now or ever. Jo, he’s a prince. Get your head on straight.” In the butler’s pantry, Gemma filled the sink with hot sudsy water and sank the mugs. “Don’t make something of nothing. We’re friends and we get along, but that’s the end of it. To be honest, I think we remind each other there is good in the world. Hope.”
“Gemma,” JoJo said with a bit of a sigh as she reached below the sink for the dish drainer. “Your limp… What happened in Hollywood? Why won’t you tell us? I can’t help but feel it’s holding you back somehow.”
“I’ve told you. I got tired of the rat race.”
Every once in a while, JoJo or Haley butted into her business. As good friends do. Gemma didn’t blame them. She knew they cared. One rarely limps home after twelve years without ever speaking of it.
“And your hip?”
“Told you that too. There I was on the Great Wall of China for a photo shoot when a spaceship burst through the clouds.” She raised her voice for dramatic effect. “We were all terrified, as you can only imagine, and we were frozen with fear. Then bam! Chaos, scrambling, running, screaming, every man for himself. I started—”
“Fine. Don’t tell me.”
“Just because you don’t believe me doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“Is it true?”
The shop chimes told them someone had walked in. Jo stuck her head out of the pantry and called, “Be right there,” then offered a final word to Gemma. “You know we love you no matter what, right?”
Gemma resented how the conversation stirred her tears. “Yeah, I know. Go, greet the customer.”
She was confronted with the fact she’d not fooled her friends as well as she’d thought. They didn’t know the details of her sordid story, but theyknew.
So tell them.
Gemma rehearsed her story as she washed the mugs and set them in the drainer. How she’d begin, which details she’d share, which ones she’d omit, but when she imagined their faces, she felt sick. No, she’d never tell. Ever.
She’d just emptied the sink when her phone pinged. Gemma pulled it from her pocket to see she had a message.
The male voice was deep and craggy, from a man named B. A. Carpenter, Attorney at Law. Said he needed to talk to her.
But she didn’t know B. A. Carpenter or why he’d be calling her. Probably a scam. Once in L.A., at some swanky party with too much booze and drugs, she sat next to a man who spent his life developing email and telephone scams. All quite illegal but he boasted as if he’d won an Oscar.
Gemma deleted B. A. Carpenter’s message and finished cleaning up the kitchen. Truth was, she’d tried to tell her story once. During her hospital stay when a compassionate nurse found her crying. But the moment she started speaking, only sobs came out.
The pain she battled was more than physical, more than healing from a broken hip. The pain was soul piercing and hidden in a place no bandages or medicine could reach.
Yet it was in that moment with the nurse she’d surrendered. She’d go home. Give up the dream of “being somebody.” Even the prodigal son was wise enough to realize returning home after his life of foolishness was better than living with pigs.
And for Gemma, home meant her journey of a thousand bad decisions would end.
