to it.”
She sniffled again and finally, ever-so-slowly, settled herself against him, her head falling to his shoulder, her sobs leaving her whole body shaking.
Wyatt closed his eyes and let his face find its way to her hair, inhaling the scent that was Jane, taking in the warmth of her body, the softness of her, the satisfaction of finally having her in his arms.
He was going to get her on her back on this couch and kiss her before this was over. He promised himself. As soon as she stopped crying.
So he stroked her hair, her back, promised her that everything was going to be okay. That he would handle anyone who said mean things to her and make it clear that they were never to treat her badly again.
Her head popped up off his shoulder and she sat up straight on his lap again. “I can’t believe they called me that name!”
“I know,” he agreed. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s one of those awful labels people use against women, to try to rob them of their power by taking a dig at their femininity. It’s patently unfair. Especially when it comes from another woman. Especially a woman who’s supposed to love me!”
A woman? Well, at least it wasn’t Leo. But still.
“Your grandmother?”
“No, Gladdy.”
“She loves you, Jane. You know she does. She’s just…old, and it’s like old people think that their age comes with the right to be as outrageous, as demanding and as stubborn as they please.”
“Yes! I take care of her and Gram. I try really hard to take good care of them, and be a good girl. I mean…a woman. A good, responsible, hard-working, intelligent woman.”
“You are. You’re all those things.”
“And what do they do? They insult me and try to demean me with that word!”
“They should be ashamed of themselves. Do you want me to try to make them ashamed? Because I will,” he promised. He could shame sweet, little old ladies for Jane.
“I don’t think you could. I don’t think anyone could. I don’t think they have any shame. They never have!”
He hated asking. Really, he did, but he figured he had to know, because he was still afraid Leo had something to do with this. “So…Jane…what happened, exactly? To make you so upset today.”
She looked too embarrassed to tell him.
This was going to be bad. Really bad.
“It was about…picking and choosing,” she said finally. “Or…actually…not picking and choosing. Leo not having to pick between them, because…well, first, Gram said he had chosen her and that he was going to tell Gladdy everything.
But he didn’t, and when I tried to tell Gladdy instead, she said maybe he would choose, but maybe he wouldn’t have to.”
Wyatt shook his head. “Because Gladdy doesn’t want him anymore?”
“No, because Gram and Gladdy might…share.”
Wyatt figured he must not have heard her right. Or understood.
“Share…?” And then he got it. No, surely he hadn’t gotten it. “Share…Leo?”
Jane nodded, looking truly horrified.
Yeah, this was bad.
“You mean.” Wyatt had really disturbing pictures of sharing in his mind. “Take turns with him? One gets him one night and another…the other? Like on a schedule or something?”
“I don’t know,” Jane cried, looking pitiful and sad again.
“Like they’d really put up with him going from one bed to the other?”
Jane pressed her hands over her ears. “I don’t know! I really don’t want to know!”
“God, neither do I,” Wyatt agreed. “That man’s eighty-six! Something like this could kill him.”
“I would think so!” Jane whimpered.
“Your aunt really said something about her and your Gram…sharing Leo?” Wyatt couldn’t quite take it in.
Jane nodded. “She said it wouldn’t be the first time!”
“With…they’ve already…shared Leo?” Oh, please, don’t let it be that, Wyatt thought. He couldn’t take it. It was too much.
“No. It was another man. Years ago. During the war. I’m not even sure which war. I was too horrified to ask. But apparently, there was a war on, men were scarce and they were lonely. This man showed up and they liked him, but they didn’t love him or anything like that, and he stayed around for a while, and they…shared. It worked, Gladdy said. Got them all through a difficult time, and. I don’t know. That’s what she said.”
“Damn, the women in your family are just full of surprises,” Wyatt said.
Jane nodded, then started whimpering again. “Sharing? I mean, is this what modern women are putting up with these days, and calling it a sex life?”
“Not the ones I know,” Wyatt assured her.
“Either that or. I mean, don’t tell me that he’s not going back and forth, because they’re all. You don’t think they’re all in that bed together, do you?” she cried, tears falling once again. “Surely that’s not what they meant!”
Wyatt shook his head. “No way. Not at eighty-six—”
“Even with drugs?”
“I don’t think any drug is that good,” he tried to reassure her.
“Because I would never do that, Wyatt. No way. If that means I’m a prude, so be it. I’ll be a prude. But I just can’t do that.”
“I promise, you don’t have to do that.” He would never ask her to share, or to take part in any kind of sharing, except the one-man, one-woman kind of sharing. Jane would be plenty enough woman for him, he decided.
“I just.” She sniffed, looking thoroughly defeated. “I’m not the most…adventurous woman. I know that. I’m cautious. I’m careful. I admit that, but I’m not some kind of sexual dinosaur, either! At least, I didn’t think so. Until now.”
“Oh, Jane. I’m so sorry,” he said, tucking her head to his chest once again. Poor thing. She was just overwhelmed by the hijinks of three sexually adventurous, eighty-something-year-olds.
Who wouldn’t be?
Wyatt let her cry a bit longer, rubbing her back, stroking her hair, trying to be a gentleman, promising that this would be okay somehow.
He really hated to see her this upset, especially about that ugly word—prude. He was fairly certain she
