Where There's Smoke

He hadn’t believed for one second that she was serious. She’d made clear her low opinion of that country. Wild horses couldn’t drag her back there.

So why had she said that? To get a rise out of him? To throw him off track and keep him guessing about her true motives?

“She wouldn’t have called you unless she wanted something from you,” he told Janellen irritably.

“Like what?”

“Who the hell knows? Possibly something as Mickey Mouse as a keepsake of Clark’s childhood. Or something as abstract as public approval. You’re a well-respected member of the community. Maybe she thinks that being seen with you would give her the acceptance she needs to make a go of her practice. Next time she calls—”

“If she does.”

“I think she will. She’s a gutsy broad. When she calls, reconsider. Lunch with her might be interesting.”

“Mama would have a fit.”

“She doesn’t have to know.”

“She’d find out.”

“So what? You’re a grown-up. You’re allowed to make your own decisions even if they don’t set well with Jody.”

She placed her hand on his arm and spoke earnestly. “Please, Key, for both your sakes, make peace with her.”

“I’m trying, Janellen. She doesn’t want to make peace with me.”

“That’s not true. She just doesn’t know how to give in graciously. She’s old and crotchety. She’s lonely. She doesn’t feel well, and I think she’s afraid of her mortality.”

He agreed on all points, but that didn’t solve the problem. “What do you want me to do that I haven’t already tried? I’ve bent over backward to be polite and pleasant. I even brought her flowers. You see how much good that did,” he said bitterly. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to bend at the waist and kiss her pinky every time I see her.”

“I’m not asking you to pamper her. She’d see straight through any insincerity and only resent you for it. But you could be less prickly. When she began talking about work, you could have told her about some of your recent jobs.”

“I shouldn’t have to display my achievements like merit badges. I’m not out to impress her. Besides, she’s not interested in what I do. She thinks flying is a hobby. If I was the pilot of Air Force One, it wouldn’t be good enough for her.”

He returned the shot glass to the tray, his motions slow and heavy with discouragement. “Jody doesn’t want me here. The sooner I leave, the better she’ll like it.”

“Please don’t feel like that. And don’t go away with this thing festering between you. She’s still devastated over Clark’s death, and because she can’t tolerate that weakness in herself, she overcompensates by lashing out at you.”

“I’ve always been a convenient whipping boy. She hasn’t liked me since the day I was born and Daddy failed to send her six dozen yellow roses.”

“He hurt her, Key. She loved him, and he hurt her.”

“Loved him?” he repeated with a bitter laugh.

Janellen looked serious and a bit puzzled. “She loved him very much. Didn’t you realize that?”

Before he was able to refute her, the doorbell rang.

“It’s going to get better between you. You’ll see.” She pressed his arm before releasing it. “I’ll get the door.”

Rejecting his sister’s optimism, he decided to have another whiskey. He swallowed the shot whole. It stung his throat, seared his esophagus, and in all probability would upset his stomach. He didn’t enjoy drinking as much as he once had.

He didn’t enjoy most things as he once had. When had taking a woman to bed become more trouble than it was worth? He was soured on life in general and didn’t know why.

He had blamed his recent disenchantment on his sprained ankle and the bullet wound in his side. But his ankle only bothered him occasionally now, and his wound had healed, leaving only a little ten

derness and a pink scar to remind him of it.

So what was wrong with him?