Lorraine, well, I think that should be allowed.”
She didn’t want to waste this time at the doctor’s office, or sitting in the emergency room because Jimmy thought she’d lost her mind.
He guided her into the elevator, a protective arm around her waist. “You didn’t really forget that everyone was coming tomorrow, did you?”
Everyone . What a nightmare. “Of course not.” She leaned into Jimmy’s side. “I was just kidding.” Would he buy it? She’d never been known for her practical jokes.
But it worked well enough. She felt him relax, the muscles in his arm and his shoulder loosening considerably as his arm closed even more completely around her.
This she could accept, for a while. Dream or impossible reality, it was wonderful. And it felt real. Jimmy’s arm around her, his voice so clear and sweet. But then, the last time had felt real, too.
She slipped her free hand under her coat and over her belly, palm down and fingers spread. A baby. A child who, if she didn’t change her ways, would never be born. Was that what the spirit was trying to tell her?
Jimmy placed his hand over hers, his long fingers spreading past hers and brushing the green sweater.
“Have you decided?” he asked softly. “Do you want to tell everybody about the baby tomorrow, or do you want to wait?”
A part of her wanted to shout the news to the world, but another part of her wanted to hang onto this moment as if the secret were gold. “What do you want to do?”
“Well, your mother and mine will both be royally pissed if they find out you told Lorraine and not them, but I think I’d rather wait. Tomorrow’s going to be hectic enough without breaking the news to seventeen people.” He leaned across and kissed her uplifted lips. It was a natural and impulsive kiss. “To tell the truth, I just want to keep the two of you all to myself for a while.”
The elevator doors opened onto a deserted lobby. “Okay, Jimmy,” she agreed. “We won’t tell anyone else just yet.”
She didn’t know if she would even be here to see tomorrow. At any moment, she could close her eyes and find herself whisked to another future, maybe where Lorraine and Jimmy were married, and Jess herself was dressed in a white bell-bottomed jumpsuit with red and green spangles and singing “Blue Christmas” with Dean.
They ran through the parking lot, trying to reach the truck and escape the cold wind. Jess’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the pickup truck parked in the same spot it had been on her last visit—dream—to this time. There were no other cars around it, and the street lamp shone down brightly, marking the pickup like a spotlight.
Just a few minutes ago—at least it seemed like just a few minutes ago—Erica had shot Jimmy while they sat in that truck. How could she bear this? If she started to panic, if she refused to set foot in the vehicle, Jimmy would surely take her to a doctor, Christmas Eve or not.
He opened the driver’s door and lifted her, hands around her waist, into the truck. She slid across, not all the way but to the middle. Jimmy jumped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
This was a different time. There was no Erica, no gun. No danger. Jess reached out and trailed her fingers along the dashboard.
“You could afford a new truck,” she said softly.
Jimmy’s hand stilled over the keys he’d already slammed into the ignition. He turned to her, and his face was lit and shadowed by the dull lamplight that shone through the window. She couldn’t see his eyes nearly well enough to suit her, and the shadows accentuated the sharpness of his jaw, the evening stubble there, full, fabulous lips. The collar of the white jumpsuit was turned up, and she smiled brightly. He did look incredibly silly.
“I’ll never sell this truck,” he said seriously. “It’s not my fault that your car decided to blow the transmission today of all days.”
“You love this truck, don’t you?”
Jimmy
She didn’t want to waste this time at the doctor’s office, or sitting in the emergency room because Jimmy thought she’d lost her mind.
He guided her into the elevator, a protective arm around her waist. “You didn’t really forget that everyone was coming tomorrow, did you?”
Everyone . What a nightmare. “Of course not.” She leaned into Jimmy’s side. “I was just kidding.” Would he buy it? She’d never been known for her practical jokes.
But it worked well enough. She felt him relax, the muscles in his arm and his shoulder loosening considerably as his arm closed even more completely around her.
This she could accept, for a while. Dream or impossible reality, it was wonderful. And it felt real. Jimmy’s arm around her, his voice so clear and sweet. But then, the last time had felt real, too.
She slipped her free hand under her coat and over her belly, palm down and fingers spread. A baby. A child who, if she didn’t change her ways, would never be born. Was that what the spirit was trying to tell her?
Jimmy placed his hand over hers, his long fingers spreading past hers and brushing the green sweater.
“Have you decided?” he asked softly. “Do you want to tell everybody about the baby tomorrow, or do you want to wait?”
A part of her wanted to shout the news to the world, but another part of her wanted to hang onto this moment as if the secret were gold. “What do you want to do?”
“Well, your mother and mine will both be royally pissed if they find out you told Lorraine and not them, but I think I’d rather wait. Tomorrow’s going to be hectic enough without breaking the news to seventeen people.” He leaned across and kissed her uplifted lips. It was a natural and impulsive kiss. “To tell the truth, I just want to keep the two of you all to myself for a while.”
The elevator doors opened onto a deserted lobby. “Okay, Jimmy,” she agreed. “We won’t tell anyone else just yet.”
She didn’t know if she would even be here to see tomorrow. At any moment, she could close her eyes and find herself whisked to another future, maybe where Lorraine and Jimmy were married, and Jess herself was dressed in a white bell-bottomed jumpsuit with red and green spangles and singing “Blue Christmas” with Dean.
They ran through the parking lot, trying to reach the truck and escape the cold wind. Jess’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the pickup truck parked in the same spot it had been on her last visit—dream—to this time. There were no other cars around it, and the street lamp shone down brightly, marking the pickup like a spotlight.
Just a few minutes ago—at least it seemed like just a few minutes ago—Erica had shot Jimmy while they sat in that truck. How could she bear this? If she started to panic, if she refused to set foot in the vehicle, Jimmy would surely take her to a doctor, Christmas Eve or not.
He opened the driver’s door and lifted her, hands around her waist, into the truck. She slid across, not all the way but to the middle. Jimmy jumped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
This was a different time. There was no Erica, no gun. No danger. Jess reached out and trailed her fingers along the dashboard.
“You could afford a new truck,” she said softly.
Jimmy’s hand stilled over the keys he’d already slammed into the ignition. He turned to her, and his face was lit and shadowed by the dull lamplight that shone through the window. She couldn’t see his eyes nearly well enough to suit her, and the shadows accentuated the sharpness of his jaw, the evening stubble there, full, fabulous lips. The collar of the white jumpsuit was turned up, and she smiled brightly. He did look incredibly silly.
“I’ll never sell this truck,” he said seriously. “It’s not my fault that your car decided to blow the transmission today of all days.”
“You love this truck, don’t you?”
Jimmy
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