Glory, Glory

“I guess the joke was on me, wasn’t it, Jesse?” she said. Glory was amazed by her calm manner; inside, she was a raging tigress, ready to claw the man to quivering shreds.

He stood so close that she could feel the heat of his body. “Damn it, Glory, what the hell are you talking about?”

It was then that her control snapped, when she thought of all the Christmases and birthdays she’d missed, all the important occasions, like the appearance of the first tooth and the first faltering step. “God in heaven, Jesse,” she spat, all pain and fury, “I hate you for keeping her from me like that!”

His hands came to rest on her shoulders, and their weight and strength had a steadying effect. So did the look of honest confusion in his dark eyes. “I get the feeling you’re talking about Liza,” he said evenly. “What I don’t get is why she’s any of your concern.”

Glory’s tears brimmed and shimmered along her lashes, blurring Jesse’s features. “Liza’s my daughter, damn you,” she sobbed. “Mine and yours! I had her nine years ago in Portland, and your grandfather made me give her up!”

Jesse let her go and turned away, and she couldn’t see into his eyes or read the expression on his face. “That’s a lie,” he said, his tone so low she could barely hear him.

Three

Jesse walked into the mansion’s massive living room, moving like a man lost in a fog, and sank into a leather chair. Glory followed, though he hadn’t invited her, and took a seat on the bench in front of the grand piano, her arms folded.

She reminded herself that Jesse was a good actor. He’d been actively involved in the drama club in high school and probably college, too. Surely police work required an ability to disguise his emotions.

It would be no trick at all for him to pretend Liza’s identity came as a surprise to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, and his voice sounded hollow, raw.

Glory felt as though she’d been wound into a tight little coil. One slip, one wrong word, and she’d come undone in a spinning spiral. “Spare me the theatrics, Jesse,” she said, wrapping her arms around her middle to hold herself in. “I know your grandfather let you in on his little secret a long time ago.”

Jesse pushed aside a tray on the coffee table containing the remains of a solitary frozen dinner, and swung his feet up onto the gleaming wood. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch. “This is crazy. Liza was Gresh and Sandy’s child—they adopted her through some agency in California.”

Glory stood, shaking her head in angry wonder. “You’re incredible,” she breathed, bolting from the piano bench and storming back out into the entry hall. Her coat had fallen off the brass tree, and she retrieved it from the floor.

She had one arm in the sleeve when Jesse gripped her by the shoulders and whirled her around.

“Just a minute, Glory,” he told her, his brown eyes hot with golden sparks. “You’re not going to walk in here and announce that you had my baby and then waltz right out again. Furthermore, you’d better face the fact that Liza isn’t that child.”

In that moment, Glory made up her mind to stay in Pearl River, even if she had to support herself by working at the diner, and become a part of Liza’s life. She’d been forced to give her daughter up once, but she was a big girl now, and it was time she stopped letting people push her around.

Including Jesse.

“You can’t get rid of me so easily this time, Jesse. I want to get to know Liza.”

A myriad of emotions flickered in Jesse’s eyes before he spoke again. “I didn’t ‘get rid’ of you before,” he said, his voice husky. “You left me, remember? Without even taking the trouble to say goodbye. My God, Glory, I looked everywhere for you. I begged your mother to tell me where you were, and Dylan and I got into three or four fights about it.”

Glory didn’t try to defend herself. She didn’t have the strength. “Dylan couldn’t have told you, Jesse, because he didn’t know.” She paused and sighed. “I guess you and I just didn’t have whatever it takes.”

She would have turned and walked out of the house then, but without an instant’s warning, Jesse dragged her close and brought his mouth down on hers in a crushing kiss.

At first Glory was outraged, but as Jesse held her in place, his hands cupping her face, all the tumblers inside her fell into place and her heart swung open like the door of a safe. The old feelings rushed in like a tidal wave, washing away all the careful forgetting she’d done over the biggest part of a decade.

“Didn’t we?” he countered harshly, when he finally let her go.

Glory was devastated to realize that Jesse still wielded the same treacherous power over her he had when they were younger. She’d been so certain that things had changed, that she was stronger and wiser now, but he had just proven that at least part of her independence was pure sham.

For all of it, she was still Jesse’s girl.

She said a stiff goodbye and opened the door.

The snowstorm was raging and the wind caught Glory by surprise, pushing her back against the hard wall of Jesse’s chest. She launched herself toward her car, and Jesse was right behind her.

“That glorified roller skate isn’t going to get you back to town in this weather!” he bellowed. “Get into the truck!”

Glory considered ignoring his command until she got a glimpse of his face. The look in his eyes, coupled with the rising ferocity of the storm, effectively quashed her plans for a dramatic exit.

She let Jesse hoist her into his pickup truck and sat there shivering and hating herself while he ran back into the house for keys and a coat.

“Don’t get the idea that this thing is settled,” she warned, when he was behind the wheel, starting the engine and flipping switches to make the heater come on. The motor roared reassuringly, and Glory had to raise her voice. “Liza is my daughter, and I’m not going to turn my back on her a second time.”

Jesse shifted the truck into reverse and clamped his teeth together for a moment before answering, “I think it would be better if we talked about this tomorrow, when we’re both feeling a little more rational.”

Glory folded her hands in her lap. She was overwrought, on the verge of screaming and crying. She desperately needed a night of sound sleep and some time to think. “You’re right,” she said, hating to admit it.

“Well, glory be,” Jesse marveled in a furious undertone, jamming the gearshift from first to second, and Glory ached inside. Once, he’d used that phrase in a very different way.

She bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from shouting at him for stealing all those minutes, hours, weeks and months when she could have been with Liza. And she wept as she thought of the things she’d missed.

When they finally reached the diner, Jesse got out of the truck and came around to help Glory down from the high running board. She pushed his hand aside, and suddenly she couldn’t contain her anger any longer.

She stood staring up at him, her hands knotted in the pockets of her coat. “You cheated me out of so many things,” she said coldly. “First-grade pictures, Jesse. Dentist appointments and Halloween costumes and bedtime stories. You had no right!”

His hand crushed the lapels of her coat together, his strength raised her onto her tiptoes. “I loved you,” he seethed. “I would have done anything for you, including break my back at the sawmill for the rest of my life to support you and our baby. I’ve been cheated out of a few things, too, Glory. I figure we’re even.”

With that, he released her and climbed back into the truck.

Glory grimaced as he sped away from the curb, his tires flinging slush in every direction and then screeching loudly on a patch of bare pavement.

Delphine was waiting up when Glory let herself into the apartment. A symmetrical five-foot Christmas tree stood in a corner of the living room, fragrant and undecorated.

“Was that Jesse?” Delphine asked without preamble.

Glory sighed. “Yes,” she answered despondently, peeling off her gloves and coat and putting them away in a tiny closet.

“He sure had his shorts in a wad about something,” Delphine commented, obviously fishing for more information.

“Sit down, Mama,” Glory said wearily.

Delphine was sipping herb tea from a pretty china cup as she settled herself at one end of the sofa. “If you’re going to tell me that Jesse was the father of your baby, Glory, save it. It’s no flash.”

Glory had a pounding headache, and she sat opposite her mother in a cheap vinyl chair, resting her elbows on her knees and rubbing both temples with her fingertips. “There’s a lot more to it than that,” she said wearily, wondering how to start. “Mama, you’ve lived here in Pearl River all this time. You must know about the child Jesse’s brother and his wife adopted.”

The teacup rattled against its saucer as Delphine set it on the coffee table. It was plain that she was making some calculations. “Yes,” she said in an uncertain tone. “It was tragic when they died. Everybody said that plane crash brought on the judge’s first stroke.”

Glory nodded glumly. “Mama, the baby they adopted was mine.” The tears she had been battling all evening welled up and trickled down her cheeks. “Jesse knew—that’s the worst part. He sided with his grandfather.”