"Look, whatever it is you feel you need to say, forget it. I have."
"No you haven't, Chris. And neither have I."
Chris opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. This woman left here two months ago without so much as a hint of an explanation and now, she wanted to explain, as if it had been only yesterday.
"Chris, please?" Jessie asked quietly. "I need to explain. I need to tell you what happened. Please?"
Chris finally dared to look into the dark eyes that had been haunting her for two months.
"You're right," she said. "Despite what happened that night, what you made me do up there on that ledge, I do still care. I wish to God I didn't."
"I know. I'm so sorry, Chris. I never meant to hurt you."
"I didn't deserve that," Chris said quietly.
"God, I know. You don't know how many times I've cursed myself for what happened, for what I wanted to happen. I didn't want to make love with you. I haven't been able to make love with anyone. It's always been just sex."
"I don't play that way," Chris said.
"I know. But it was the only game I knew." She patted the sofa beside her. "Please, sit down."
Chris reluctantly moved beside her, settling in the corner of the sofa and facing Jessie, waiting.
For the second time, Jessie was about to confess to someone about her father, about what he had done. Somehow, it was more difficult telling Chris than confiding in Dr. Davies. She didn't want Chris to think any less of her, she didn't want Chris to judge her. It hadn't been her fault, she knew that, but still, people's reactions could be so different. And she didn't want Chris to think she was tainted in some way, even though Jessie thought that herself.
"That night, out on the ledge, when I was by myself, I had a... revelation, I guess. Finally, all of the missing pieces came together. Jack, he... he abused me. Sexually," she whispered.
Chris slammed her eyes shut. She had suspected, of course. But to have Jessie whisper the words, to hear her pain, made it all so real. And she felt anger bubble up for this man she had never met, but whose actions had affected two women to whom she had grown close.
"Please say something," Jessie whispered.
"Should I say I'm sorry?" Chris asked. "That seems so trivial." Chris reached across the sofa and took Jessie's hand. "I was afraid it was true. Even before I met you, just listening to Roger and Annie tell me about your childhood, it just sounded too strange."
"You knew? Did... did Annie?"
Chris shook her head. "I asked her once if she thought it could have happened. She didn't. Jack had so many women, so many affairs," Chris said. "I think Annie feels like Jack took you away from her as punishment or something." Chris squeezed Jessie's hand tightly. "But I am very, very sorry."
"Me, too. He took away my childhood, my mother." She shrugged. "My life."
"It's not too late, Jessie."
"I hope not. I want to see her. My therapist thinks I'm rushing things, though. I don't think she really believes I've accepted this." Jessie met Chris's eyes, now so different. The coolness was gone and warmth had again taken its place. "That night, when it all came back to me, do you know how close I came to just jumping into that damn canyon?"
"No."
"But then, he would win. He would win all over again. So I just sat there and let it all come, even though I didn't want it to. I just wanted it to go away. I cried and cried. And I felt so ashamed. And when you found me, you offered me comfort. But I didn't feel like I deserved that from you. I didn't deserve to be cared for."
"So you did the one thing that would push me away?" Chris asked softly.
Jessie nodded. "It was all I was used to."
"It doesn't have to be that way, Jessie. You shouldn't feel ashamed for something that someone else did."
"I know."
Jessie stared at the painting of Sierra Peak, drawing comfort from it, much like she did from her own painting all these years.
"I like it," Jessie said, motioning to the painting. "It's Sierra Peak, right?"
"Yes."
"Local artist?"
"Very." Then Chris smiled. "Annie gave that to me."
"She paints?"
"A hobby, but I think she's quite good."
Jessie stood up and walked to the painting, studying it. The detail was very good, the colors perfect. Yes, it was quite good. She turned back to Chris.
"You know so much about her. Do you think she would be receptive to seeing me?"
Chris laughed. "Are you kidding?"
"I wasn't exactly a good daughter, you know. And I think my parting words to her were... well, something about her dying," Jessie admitted. "Why didn't you tell her that I was here?"
"I didn't... I didn't want to hurt her. Besides, you had already left. What good would it have done to tell her then?"
"And now?"
"Let's just say it'll be a damn shock to her. Jessie, she never gave up hope that you might some day come back into her life. She's told me as much. But there's a lot between you, a lot that you don't know about each other. And you have resentment to work through. Resentment on both your parts. Annie won't admit it, but I'm sure she resents you in some small way for her failed marriage. You know, you came along and took Jack away from her."
"But I never..."
"No, I didn't mean it was intentional. Hell, I'm just talking here, Jessie. I just want you to be prepared. Don't think you're going to waltz in there and everything's going to be fine."
"McKenna, I know it's not going to be easy." Jessie reached out and grasped Chris's arm. "I'm just thankful you're still talking to me," she said. "If I were you, I would have probably thrown me out by now."
Chris shook her head. "No, you wouldn't."
"You should hate me for what I did to you," Jessie stated.
"Probably," Chris said quietly. "But I'm not really one to dwell on the past."
"Will you take me to see Annie?"
"I'll call her. But you know she's going to be really pissed off at me," Chris said.
"For not telling her in August?" Jessie asked.
"Yeah. This is going to be a shock to her, Jessie."
Jessie watched as Chris grabbed her cell phone and pushed the numbers quickly, as if she dialed them often.
"Annie, it's me," Chris said. She moved away from Jessie, wanting a little privacy as she spoke to Annie.
"Chris, hello. I was just watching the weather. We're getting a storm tonight, maybe twelve inches in the mountains."
"Did you get that firewood delivered?" she asked.
"Yes, I did, and the boys stacked it neatly by the house. Thank you."
"Well, I'll help you bring some inside." She glanced at Jessie, who was sitting on the sofa, trying to listen. "Do you feel like company?"
"I would love to see you, Chris. Dinner?"
"No, not dinner. I won't bother you with that. Actually, I have... a friend here that wants to meet you, is all," she said, glancing at Jessie.
"Someone wants to meet me? Oh, Chris, what have you been telling them?"
"Nothing like that, Annie. It's someone I want you to meet."
"Well, then come on over. Hopefully the storm won't catch you."
"Thanks. We'll be over later. And Annie? Get out a good bottle of wine." She disconnected, then stared at the phone in her hand. "You're going to need it," she murmured.
Jessie smiled, having heard most of the conversation. She wondered how Annie would react to her. For that matter, she wondered how she would react to Annie. She had spent the last sixteen years hating her. Could she get past that?
Chris watched Jessie, seeing the different emotions cross her face and the color drain from her face.
"What's wrong?" she asked before she could stop herself. She didn't want to care about her, but she was finding it difficult keeping her distance.
"I think I'm terrified of seeing her, Chris."
Chris nodded. What could she say to that?