if I was,” she theorized. “Besides, they did the best they could.”
Jane’s reasoning eluded him. “How do you figure that?”
“I never went hungry.” At least, not for food, she thought. “I had shelter, clothes and a library card.” Mentioning the last item made her smile fondly. It was one of her best childhood memories. “My father took me to get it when I was seven. The only outing I remember with him, actually,” she confessed.
There were no picnics, no trips to amusement parks, no family vacations in her past. She grew up in a house with two self-involved adults, very much alone.
Maybe the man was a workaholic, Jorge thought. “What did your father do for a living?”
“He was an engineer. Aerospace,” she added. A sigh accompanied her next statement. “He was away a lot. NASA had him on speed dial,” she said with a small laugh. “I think he just used work to get away from my mother.” And inadvertently, her, she added silently.
“And your mother?”
Her mother.
There were no fond memories when she thought of the woman, no nostalgia, no sense of any connection at all. Her mother was just a beautiful woman who happened to have the same address as she did.
“My mother peaked at nineteen. She was Miss Texas in the Miss USA Pageant that year. She came in third and said that she was cheated.” Jane shrugged, as if she wasn’t sure whether or not to give that claim any credence. She did know that, as far as looks went, she had always been a huge disappointment to her mother. “After that, she became a professional shopper.”
“She shopped for other people?” He’d heard of those, but thought they were generally employed by celebrities who had trouble going out in public. There was no one like that around here.
“Not other people. She shopped strictly for herself.” She remembered feeling hopeful the first few times she recalled her mother coming home with shopping bags full of things. But there was never anything in them for her. And after a while, she stopped hoping. “She was only happy when she was buying things. That was why my parents argued rather than talked to each other,” she explained. “My father claimed that she spent money faster than he earned it.”
“And did she?”
The short laugh had a sad sound to it. “Absolutely.”
Making a left turn, Jane pulled onto the hospital compound. She hadn’t realized that she’d talked all the way here. It certainly hadn’t been her intention to go on and on like that.
“Well, there you have it.” She tried to make a joke of the fact that she’d revealed so much, “My whole life story. Not exactly a page-turner, was it?” There was a parking structure straight ahead. She drove into it and parked her vehicle in the first space she could find. Turning off the engine, she turned to look at him. She was surprised that Jorge hadn’t tried to jump out of the car. “I didn’t mean to bore you.”
“I wasn’t bored,” he protested. If anything, he’d gained new respect for her.
“Now you’re just being polite.” She released her seat belt. “Shoelaces have more exciting backstories than I do.”
Jorge grinned. The novelty of a modest woman hadn’t grown old yet. “I don’t usually talk to shoelaces,” he told her.
She laughed shortly. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do,” he acknowledged, “and you’re wrong.” He saw her raise her eyebrows in a silent question. “I don’t find you dull or boring.”
This bet that Jorge had going—the one that involved her—it had to be for quite a lot of money, she thought. She couldn’t conceive of any other reason for him to be so accommodating, so nice to her.
Picking up her purse, she then leaned over the seat, reaching into the back for a large book whose edges were gilded in gold. On the front cover was a young woman who, at first glance, Jorge thought, bore a remarkable resemblance to Jane. A second look made him realize that it was the hairstyle and the clothes that were responsible for the likeness.
However they both had a fresh-faced appeal, he noted, although Jane was obviously older. But definitely not by much. She could have easily passed for a schoolgirl.
Jane got out of the car. Waiting until he followed suit, she hit the security lock. They walked toward the hospital’s main entrance.
She tried to give him one last out. “You know, the hospital has a really good cafeteria. The food’s not as good as what your father prepares, but the coffee’s decent. You could wait there if you wanted to.”
Reaching the entrance, he waited for her to go through the electronic doors first. “Why would I want to do that? I came along to see you in action, not to drink watered-down cafeteria coffee.”
“It’s not watered down,” she assured him. “As a matter of fact, it’s pretty strong. Designed to keep sleepy interns on their feet.”
In action.
He said he wanted to see her in action. Somehow, she’d never thought of those words being associated with her. Action referred to the dynamic people in the world. She wasn’t dynamic, she was just a person who did whatever needed doing.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
