We've got to stop meeting this way" Jenn said when Jesse came in.
She was sitting on the cot, with her feet tucked up under her. Jesse left the cell door open and leaned against the wall opposite her. The cell was so small there was barely any space between them.
"I don't know what to say."
"I couldn't stand it," Jenn said.
"It's not fair-that bitch trying to take you down.
You're so good, Jesse."
"Thank you, Jenn."
"It's the truth. They're lucky to have you. She should be grateful. They all should be grateful."
"Actually Jenn, I'm a little grateful to be here. I almost flushed myself in L.A."
"I know. I helped with that."
"Maybe not as much as you think."
"Have I fucked you up again?" Jenn said.
Jesse smiled.
"God, Jenn, I don't know. I mean, thank you for caring and for standing up for me. But now you're in my jail, and I have no idea what to do with you."
"You could just let me go."
"Yeah."
"But if you did, then Mrs. Bitch Face could accuse you of favoritism."
"Yeah."
"What would happen if I weren't me?" Jenn asked.
"You'd call your lawyer, and your lawyer would arrange your release."
"I don't have a lawyer."
"I could ask Abby Taylor," Jesse said.
"Didn't you fuck her?"
"Uh-huh."
Jesse decided not to mention how recently. Jenn was shaking her head.
"No. I can't have her."
"Station got a lawyer?" Jesse asked.
"Yes. I suppose they'll have him out here as soon as they get wind of it. I may have made myself some trouble at the station."
Jesse smiled.
"Might be your big break," Jesse said.
"Jenn Stone, the fighting weather girl?"
"I better tell the station," Jenn said.
"Can I use your phone to call the news director?"
"Sure. You're free to go, Jenn."
"Won't you get in trouble, just letting me go like that?"
"If I do, I'll deal with it when it comes. I'm not going to lock you up."
Jenn sat for a moment without moving, and Jesse realized she was crying.
"Oh, shit," Jesse said.
"Here we are together, talking in a jail cell, Jesse," Jenn said.
"It's just so..."
"Not the way we first planned it," Jesse said.
"God, I've made such a goddamned mess of everything."
"It's not over," Jesse said, "until it's over."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means we're working on it, Jenn. When we're through working on it, we'll find out if it's a mess or not."
"I don't ever want to stop working on it," Jenn said.
"I don't want to lose you."
"You won't lose me," Jesse said.
"But I don't know. I don't know if I can ever be what you want me to be."
"I don't have any big rules about what you should be, Jenn.
Mostly I'm opposed to sharing you."
"I don't know," Jenn said.
"I just don't know."
"You will," Jesse said.
"I only know I can't imagine a world without you in it."
"I'm not going anywhere," Jesse said.
"I'm going to wait it out."
"God, I hope it's not a long wait," Jenn said.
"You seeing a shrink these days?"
"Dr. St. Claire gave me the name of two people-one in Chestnut Hill, one in Cambridge. I haven't called them. It's hard to go to a new shrink."
"I imagine it would be," Jesse said.
"You think I should go back into therapy?"
"Anything that will help you decide what you want to do, and then be able to do it, is a good thing," Jesse said.
"And you'll stay?"
"I'll stay," Jesse said.
"What if I get to a point where what I want doesn't include you?"
"Then I'll move on," Jesse said.
"And you'll be all right?"
"Jenn, I don't know if I'm going to be all right tomorrow. I can't possibly tell you if I'll be all right in six months or two years or whatever it takes."
"But you won't give up?"
"Not until you tell that you don't want me in your life."
"I can't ever imagine saying that."
"That seems like good odds to me," Jesse said.
"The other night was good."
"Yes," Jesse said.
They were both quiet for a moment. Then she stood, Jesse opened his arms, Jenn stepped into them, and he held her hard. He could feel the completeness surge up inside him. There was no logic to it; he simply knew when he touched her that she was not like other women. He kept his arms around her, fighting off the desire to squeeze too hard, while she pressed her face against his chest and cried softly but not, Jesse thought, hopelessly.
FORTY-NINE.
"You got a safe deposit box?" Macklin said.