Trouble in Paradise

Twenty-Eight

Jesse stood off-camera on the news set at Channel 3 and watched Jenn expertly describing isobars and cold fronts and other things about which he knew she had no clue. She made confident sweeping hand gestures against an empty blue background. Jesse knew that somewhere between Jenn and the television audience the empty blue background acquired a weather map, though he didn’t know how. Nor did he care.

The floor director counted her down.

Jenn said, “Back to you, Tony.”

When Tony Salt, the news anchor, replaced her on the monitors, Jenn came past the cameras with her finger to her lips, stood beside Jesse, and gave him a small bump with her hip. They stood silently until a commercial break, and then Jenn led them out through the heavy door into the corridor.

“Hi,” she said.

“A low-pressure area dominating our weather system?” Jesse said.

Jenn smiled.

“They write it. I read it,” she said and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips. “Where shall we eat?”

“Up to you,” Jesse said. “I usually have pizza.”

“You know what I’d love?” Jenn said. “I’d love to have some fried clams at that little restaurant on the harbor in Paradise.”

“The Gray Gull,” Jesse said.

“Yes. Do you mind driving all the way back?”

“No, of course not,” Jesse said.

“Oh good. Let me get my purse and stuff, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Like I would, Jesse thought.

He didn’t mind driving forty-five minutes back to Paradise. He would be alone with her. Jenn would sit sideways in the seat next to him, tuck her knees under her, and talk. He had always loved to listen to her talk. She didn’t even need to be talking to him. When they had been married, he used to enjoy listening to her talk on the car phone to her agent, her manager, casting directors, girlfriends, hairdressers.

“It’s not really about telling people the weather,” she said, as they went north through the Callahan Tunnel. The rush hour was over and the traffic was light. “It’s about marketing the weather person as a way to market the station,” she said. “Otherwise the anchor could just tell you it was going to rain tomorrow as part of the newscast. But that’s not the point. There’s three of us, for Christ’s sake. Clark does noon and eleven. I do six, and Dinah does weekends. I visit schools and street fairs and do remotes from somebody’s lobby. That’s why I only do six, so they can market me.”

“Long day for Clark?” Jesse said.

Jenn nodded.

“He loves it,” she said. “Gives him more air time.”

“So why you?”

“I got a better ass than Clark.”

“I think that’s right,” Jesse said. “How about Dinah?”

Jenn shrugged.

“Girls with bad asses don’t get hired.”

Jesse wasn’t looking at her. He was watching the road in front of him.

“But she is the weekend weather girl, isn’t she,” Jenn said.

And Jesse knew without looking just the way her eyes gleamed when she said it.

Jesse took a deep breath and let it out audibly.

“How’s Tony Salt,” he said. “Is it serious?”

“Not yet.”

Jesse felt the thickness in his chest. It began near the solar plexus and reached the lower part of his throat.

“I don’t know, Jesse. I’m just dating. It’s not serious like you and me, if that’s bothering you.”

“Could it get that serious?”

“I don’t know. I can’t promise. I have to be able to see who I want to see, and tonight I want to see you.”

“I haven’t spied on you again.”

“Good.”

Jenn didn’t say anything, though he was aware that she shifted in the seat so she could look at him more directly.

“I’m ashamed of it,” Jesse said.

Jenn nodded. “Knowledge is power,” she said.

“That’s exactly the phrase my friend used when I told her.”

“Your friend’s had psychotherapy,” Jenn said. “It’s a shrink thing to say. This the lawyer lady?”

“No. It’s a woman named Marcy Campbell. She sells real estate.”

“You fucking her?”

“Yes.”

“How come?”

“Well, hell, Jenn, adults fuck, you know?”

“Yep, I know. You love her?”

“No. I like her. I like her a lot. But I don’t love her or her me.”

Jenn didn’t say anything. Jesse drove a quarter way around Bell Circle and headed north past the dog track.

“You think you’ll stake me out again?” Jenn said.

“No. You have my word.”

“It’s a human thing to do, Jesse.”

“But not a useful thing,” Jesse said.

“No. I have to live my life and see who I wish to see and go where I wish to go and not be trapped in a single commitment.”

“Forever?”

“No, just until I don’t have to.”

“You know when that will be?”

“No. And pushing me on it is counterproductive.”

“I know.”

“I can’t make you promises, Jesse. I can’t give you any guarantees. It scares me even to talk this much about it. But you have to remember that you and I are connected in a way that I’ve never been connected to anyone else.”

“You love me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a good basis,” Jesse said.

“Yes, it is. I think it is possible to love other people too. I think people can love more than one person. On the other hand, so far, I haven’t.”

“That’s encouraging too.”

“I want to encourage you as much as I can, Jesse. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” Jesse said.