Under the Same Sun (Stone Trilogy) (16 page)

“Oh no,” Jon replied hotly. “That’s not so. Nothing could be worse than that. Nothing. You’re wrong, Naomi.”

For a moment she looked at him. “Well, I could be dead. Now that would really be worse.”

W
alter escorted them to their car, saying what a great honor it had been to have Jon attend their dinner and how much his wife had enjoyed dancing with him. They were so looking forward to his concert.

“Your parents picked an awkward moment to move,” he went on, addressing Naomi. “They missed meeting you here. But then, of course, you’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future. It must be nice to know they are close by. I envy them a little, I have to admit. Retiring to New York seems like a terribly exciting thing to do. Compared to that, Geneva feels like a village in the mountains.” He laughed. “Which it is, of course.”

Jon felt her fingers go cold, just like that, in an instant; and her body became rigid.

“Yes, we agree,” he said, grateful for the years of practice he had lying to the press and fans. “It was a great surprise, but wonderful.” Smoothly he bade him good night and ushered Naomi into the limousine.

“What,” Sal asked, his eyes wide with suspicion. “What did he just say? Did I hear that right? Jon, the restraining order…” He shut up when Jon raised his hand.

“Joshua.”

They all turned toward her: Art, Sal, Sean, Jon.

“Jon, he’ll take Joshua away.” Naomi, shaking, held on to him.

“No, no, baby, no one will harm Joshua.” Jon laid his arm around her. “Don’t worry about him. He’s well protected.” Even while he said it he threw Sal a sharp glance, and Sal nodded.

“What does this mean?” Her voice wavered. “Why would they do that? Of all places, New York?”

Sean bent forward. “Maybe, Naomi, maybe they are trying to find a way to make peace with you. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough, in a few weeks when we go back.”

She didn’t want to hear that, and she didn’t want to see the careful glances between Jon and Sal, or how Sal got his cell phone out as soon as they arrived at the hotel, taking a few steps away from them to bark instructions into it.

“I want to call Joshua.” She held out her hand for Jon’s cell, but he shook his head. “You’ll only upset him. Let’s wait until we see what Sal finds out,” and added, when he saw the worry in her face, “patience.”

Jon stood, his hands in his pockets, lips slightly pursed, listening to Sal’s conversation. Naomi could feel the tension in him, so well disguised by his easy stance; but there was something else, a hard, calculating attitude, the willingness to take on this problem and deal with it. He didn’t show her this side of his personality often; but when he did, when he took command, she got an idea why those working for him liked to call him Master.

Sal hung up and came back over to them. “Nothing,” he said. “Joshua just left school, and he’s in the car now. Kurt says the surveillance was not broken for a moment, not since you were there. They can account for every minute. There’s no reason to worry.”

“Good.” Jon took her arm with a grim nod toward Sal. “Let’s call it a day then, Sal.” On the point of entering the hotel he added, “Two more guards,” and Sal nodded, opening his phone once again.

chapter 14

O
nce they were inside their suite he called Joshua, anxiously watched by Naomi. Hearing his young, clear voice and the impetuous tone in it, tugged at his heart, so much that he used any excuse to talk to him. Joshua’s impatient, off-handed reply that yes, he had just returned from school and his grandmother was making dinner, and no, he had not gone anywhere else, made him breathe a little easier. “Take care,” he told his son, and handed the phone to Naomi, who sat down on the couch and kicked off her sandals. She seemed to have forgotten he was in the room at all, chatting with Joshua, pulling out the pins that held up her hair. Barefoot, her hand full of pins, she reclined onto the cushions to ask him about the girl he had met the other day, yes, the one he had taken out for lunch, and where had they gone? Oh, Syrian, what an exciting choice, and she laughed at his reply. The black satin slipped on her thighs when she pulled up her legs to massage her toes as she ended her conversation with Joshua.

His wife, his son. Jon was certain he would never let anything change that, ever again: no other woman, no stalker, and least of all her father.

Naomi looked up at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Jon did not feel like talking about it. “Nothing at all. I like your dress. It’s totally outrageous, and I love it. You were the loveliest woman at that party tonight.”

She shrugged. “Easy. I was the youngest. Your fans are getting old.”

Nodding slowly, Jon dropped his jacket and loosened the tie. “Get in bed. I’ll show you old. You don’t think there’ll be any sleep tonight, do you?”

But when he came back from the shower she lay curled up under the sheet, shivering, her lips gray and her face bloodless.

“I’m so tired, Jon.” Her voice was barely audible, it was so low and brittle.

All thoughts of wild, sweet moments were blown away, seeing her like that, seeing once again that she was not well by a long shot, no matter how much they tried to ignore it. Carefully he slipped into bed beside her and drew her into his arms, startled by how cold she was despite the warm summer night, and how weak. Her fingers gripping his wrist were shaky, nearly lifeless.

“I’m just tired,” she repeated when he asked, scared now, if she needed a doctor. “I just need sleep.” And added, snuggling up against him, “Could you hold me? You’re so warm.”

Jon held her against his chest, listening to her breathing, feeling her heartbeat, feeling her gradually relax and go soft with slumber as outside the birds started their early-morning song and the sun crept over the mountains.

“
H
ere,” Jon said.

Naomi leaned against the white-washed wall. “I know.”

She was back in jeans and one of the white shirts, her hair in a braid, and she looked just as she had back then, all traces of the bitter, exhausting night gone.

“This was the spot where you told me you would not be in my bed that night.” Jon, standing before her, rested his hand against the bricks, right next to her shoulder. “You told me that was not the way things worked, and you let me stand here with all my need for you, a little thing of nineteen telling me off.”

“You deserved it.”

The moment was so much like a déjà vu, he caught his breath. “Stop saying things like that. You drive me crazy. I’m trying to re-create a romantic moment, back with you here after all these years, and you say nearly the same things you did then. Can’t I just live in my memories for a minute?”

“You don’t have to.” Her blouse slipped and revealed her shoulder when she moved to kiss him. “I recall quite vividly waking up in your bed this morning. Stop wallowing.”

His eyes sparkled at her. “Yeah, that was good. That was how I wanted it when we stood here for the first time. I dreamed of finding you beside me when I woke up, just like today: so warm and sweet, your hair tousled, and you curled up against me, mine. My selkie, finally caught.”

“Jon.” No more than a whisper, barely audible over the noise of the loudspeakers from the stage where the band was still rehearsing.

“I want this tour over so badly.” The playful mood gone, he wrapped his arms around her. “What a stupid idea this was; there’s hardly any time for us to be alone. I want to regain what we had, the happy times, the carefree and easy days before…before.” He broke off, his lips on her hair, her breath on his throat.

There was no answer, but she did not pull away and did not stiffen. He could feel her hands on his back, her fingers exploring the contours of his muscles, tracing a line down his spine.

“Careful,” Jon growled, “no teasing. Bad timing, my sweet, very bad timing. Or are you thinking of that dressing room table again? Ah, you are one crazy chick, Naomi.”

She laughed softly.

They could hear Sal’s voice from the end of the hallway calling something toward the stage, and Jon let her go, running his fingers through his hair. “All right then, let’s check out the dressing room.”

She had not come in the last time. He recalled only too well how she had stopped outside the door and shook her head at him, offering no explanation, and how he had nodded unwillingly, afraid she would leave for good if he didn’t prevent it.

“But I have to change” had been his plea, “and get ready for the show. What do I do if you’re gone when I come back out?”

And he remembered her cool shrug and the simple statement, “You’ll just have to wait and find out, right?”

No one, no girl, had ever treated him like that before, not since he had become famous and adored. They had all offered to entertain him in any way possible, had allowed him to use them in the hope of being the one, the woman he would take back home. She, Naomi, had turned away outside the door and, walking away, tossed at him, “I’ll find someone to keep me company while they fuss over you. No worries.” He had watched her wave to Sean, who had waited for her to catch up and, her arm through his, had vanished into the hospitality area and out of his sight.

This time, though, she did not hesitate and when he threw her a doubtful glance, said, “What? I’m your wife, I’m entitled to be here with you.”

He loved the way she sat on the table, her back to the large, illuminated mirror, and examined the makeup tools, once more fiddling with the silly eyeliner. Today she swiveled around and applied it to herself, blinking at her image.

“This is good stuff,” she declared. “No wonder your eyes look so sultry and dark on stage. I’m stealing it!”

Jon laughed. “No you’re not. I’m not sure there’s another one.”

With a pout, she hid the pencil behind her back when he tried to take it from her. “Those fans of yours are not supposed to swoon at you anyway.  You can’t have prettier eyes than I have.”

“You’re impossible.”  But he smiled, seeing her in good spirits, seeing her laugh. “Do you feel up to another long night, baby? You could rest at the hotel, and…” Again he had been about to offer her an early return to New York, to their house in LA, even Halmar, anywhere but here on the road, but stopped when she shook her head.

“Here, and now, Jon. Stop trying to send me away or I’ll start thinking you have someone else you want to meet, and you want to get me out of the way. Do you? Do you have someone else hidden away, a young,
blond thing, someone with…” Naomi choked on her own words.
Slowly, deliberately, she put the eyeliner back in its spot next to the powder and slipped from the table in an attempt to get past him and leave, but Jon blocked her way.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his tone harsh with hurt. “This has to stop, and now. I know what you were going to say, Naomi. You were going to go into the baby thing again, right?”

“Yes, but not intentionally.” Her fists were balled at her sides. “I didn’t mean to say that! It just happened; it just popped out!”

“Hell yeah, it just popped out; but it could only pop because it was in your head, right? That thought is stuck in there, and no matter what I say you’re not going to let go of it; I just know it!” He was, Jon realized, nearly shouting, her words had cut that deep. “I’m not going to leave you for another woman; you’ve got to accept that. If you are looking for a way to get rid of me, well, I’ll tell you; you don’t need all that female crap talk. Just tell me and be done with it, but for crying out loud, stop torturing me with this baby talk!”

Softly, silently, the tears spilled over her lashes and dropped on her cheeks, where she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

From the hallway they could hear laughter and voices, the background noises of an approaching show, Sal’s and Art’s among them, coming closer. Jon cast a furtive glance at his watch. One hour, and he had not yet showered, not changed; and beside the press and the fans, he would have to welcome the mayor and his blond Pauline. He took a couple of calming breaths. “I don’t have time for another drama now. If you want to leave, go. I’m out of arguments.”

“But I never meant to say anything!” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “You’re trying to send me back to bed or the hospital or wherever all the time! It’s you who wants to get rid of me!”

“That’s just not true!” Jon’s head was spinning. He couldn’t figure out why they were suddenly back in one of their bitter discussions when only moments before they had been flirting and joking.

“I know I’m an invalid,” she tossed at him. “I know I’m useless now, weak, and…useless.” The fight went out of her. “Useless. That’s what I am, yes. Like a broken cup, that’s how I feel.” Sad, her eyes tired, she looked up at him. “And you, Jon, you’re trying to hold together the pieces, but it’s not working. I’m just damaged goods.”

“I want to slap you for saying that. You deserve to be slapped for calling yourself damaged and useless.” He turned away from her and began taking off his shirt to get ready for the stage. “I’m not even going to try and talk sensibly to you now. You are not useless, and you are not damaged.” Furious, he tossed the shirt into the corner of the room. “Do you even realize what you’re saying? You’re throwing your life away. Yeah, you were badly hurt, and in a totally senseless way. But Naomi—” he gripped her shoulders, ready to shake her—“you’re alive. You’re cared for and loved, you are on your own two feet, and you have enough life in you to give me hell. I love you. I love you more than anything or anyone else, and yet it’s not good enough for you.”

“But that’s so not true!” She tried to free herself, but he did not allow it. “I’m a burden now, Jon, and our life is not going at all the way it should! We should be happy, and we should have another baby, and you should not have to worry all the time about my health.”

Defeated, Jon sat down in the chair in front of the dressing table, her hands in his so that she had to perch on the corner of the table again. “Yes,” he said, “you are right. Your  health is a burden. I worry about you all the time, but not for the reasons you name. I worry because I want you with me, and I can see how you walk on the edge of life, how you sometimes even step away from it, as if you’re testing how death might feel. Seeing you in those black, weak moments scares me more than I can say. I want to fight them, drive them out of you, only I don’t know how.” The exhaustion and defeat crept up his shoulders and settled behind his eyes.

“I can’t follow you there, Naomi. I’m not ready to head into the abyss. And I’ll do my damnedest to keep you from falling in too. You belong here, on this side of the wall, with the living. With me.”