Chapter 28: Not her sister

Janet sat perched on Wes’ knees completely oblivious to anything but her new website.

Wes, on the other hand, just now understood the fascination with lap-dances. Not that Janet was doing anything resembling a lap-dance but he just assumed that having her sit there was as close to one as he was getting. 

Little did he know! 

He really liked having her sitting there so close to him that her long, fragrant hair tickled his nose when he leaned forward inhaling deeply. He even rubbed his face in it.

“Wes, what are you doing?” Janet asked tossing her head back and giggling.

“Um, nothing,” he said, now letting his fingers run through it. “I like your hair. It’s soft and smells nice…like a garden.”

“You are such a girl!” she said laughing and shaking her head, so her hair caught in his fingers.

“How do you figure that?” he asked, indignant.

“Only girls like to play with hair,” she said.

“You know, you don’t know as much as you think you do. Why do you think girls spend so much time fixing their hair?”

“Cuz they ain’t got nothing better to do?” she said, smirking.

“It’s to get guys to notice them,” he replied.

“Well, that explains it then,” she said, shrugging.

“Explains what?”

“Why no guys notice me. I don’t do anything to my hair except wash it.”

“I noticed,” he muttered so softly she didn’t hear.

“Wes, don’t you think this is a bit over the top?” she said, reading about herself. “The ultimate romantic? Me?”

“You gotta sell yourself as others will want to see you, or it’s all for nothing. Nobody’s gonna want to pay money to be set up by someone who insists love is for fools. Anyway, I don’t believe you actually feel that way. It’s just your way of protecting yourself,” he said, his hands inexplicably drawn to her hair.

“Ya think so, huh?” 

“Yeah, I do,” Wes said, moving her hair off one shoulder and whispering in her ear, “You believe in love, Janet. You’re just not willing to admit it.”

A shiver went up her spine. “You don’t know me then,” she said in a quiet voice.

“I’m getting to know you better all the time,” he said, his hands now on her shoulders. “Aren’t you too warm wearing this sweater?”

“The shrug? A little,” she replied, her attention back on the computer screen. To her surprise Wes slowly removed it for her. “Thanks.”

Wes felt a jolt run through him. Janet’s dress had thin straps and left her arms and shoulders mostly bare. Without thinking, Wes tossed the shrug onto his bed and touched the super soft skin on her shoulders. Moving the hair to the side he dropped tiny kisses along her neck and onto her shoulder.

“Wes,” she said breathlessly. “That tickles.”

 “Funny, I don’t feel a thing,” he said. This was a complete lie. He had never felt so alive. His every nerve ending tingled.

Running his hands down the length of her arms, he held his breath for a second then wrapped them around her narrow waist and hoisted her further and more securely onto his lap so her tiny feet dangled a few inches off the floor.

“Wes, what are you doing?” she said. “And don’t say nothing! Every time you say it’s nothing it ends up being something.”

 “You couldn’t have been comfortable that way.”

“Hmm, guess you’re right. Thanks,” she said, wiggling herself into a more comfortable position.

This made a fire kindle inside him. He was pretty sure that was much closer to a real lap-dance. He liked it very much. So much so that he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He started inching his hands up her ribs until he just touched the underside of her breasts. He thought he might die.

“Wes, what did I just say?”

“Uh…what?” he said barely able to speak coherently.

“I said you’re tickling me. Now stop it!” she said wiggling some more. 

Almost crazed with desire he placed his hands on either side of her hips and forced her to stop moving.

“What are you doing?” she said. 

“I…uh…I like your dress. It’s…it’s pretty,” he said, knowing perfectly well how lame he sounded.

“I’ll tell Jasmine,” she replied.

“It’s not yours?”

“It is now. The thing about Jazzy is she loves to buy clothes and she usually wears them a dozen times or so but she gets bored with them pretty quick and then I find them stuffed in my closet. So…” She lifted her skirt on both sides as if she were about to do a curtsy and then she shrugged. “I get all her clothes. That’s why I never have to go shopping. Cool, huh?”

“Yeah, I bet. You remind me of the 4-G girl,” Wes said now running his hands down her thighs.

“Jasmine looked all over for a dress just like hers and finally found this one. Uh, Wes…”

“What?” he said, breathing slow, deep and steady. He feared spontaneously bursting into flames.

“You’re hiking up my skirt,” she said laughing at him and removing his wandering hands.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said, breathing heavy and leaning his forehead on her back. “Janet, you’re killing me.”

“Oh!” she said turning on his lap to look at him. “I’m bothering you.” She went to get up but he held her fast to him.

“No. You’re not,” he lied.  In truth he was quite bothered…hot and bothered that is. He rather liked it.

“But I’m too heavy to be sitting on you for so long.”

He shook his head. It would never be long enough, he was certain of it.

“Are you sure?” she asked looking critically at him. “Wes, are you okay? You look funny.”

He nodded and tried to smile. It looked more like a painful grimace.

“Wes, tell me what’s wrong?” she said, touching his cheek. She gaped at him as he turned toward her hand and tenderly kissed her palm. “Why do you do stuff like that?”

“Cuz…cuz it feels right,” he whispered, pulling her closer. He stared into her eyes until he thought he might have fallen into them. “Janet…”

“What?” she said, hypnotized by his intense stare.

“Kiss me,” he said, desperately. “Please, Janet.”

It never occurred to her to deny him his wish. Slowly she touched his cheek with tentative fingertips then leaned forward until barely a centimeter stood between them. “Okay,” she said and she touched her lips to his.

Of their own accord, his arms went around her and pulled her to him, holding her there in a vise-grip. His fingers tangled into her hair forcing her closer. She yelped and started to fight him, but then wonderful sensations swept through her and she melted against him wrapping her own arms around his neck and pressing herself to him. She’d never been kissed like this before.

“Wes! How could you?”

The shout made Janet jump right off Wes’ lap, her heart pounding madly. Her hand over her chest she saw a young girl, perhaps eleven or twelve years old, standing akimbo on the threshold and she looked furious.

“How about knocking, Cindy?” Wes said, frowning at her.

“I can’t believe you would do this, Wes!”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Troy’s your best friend!” she yelled, glaring at Janet. “I knew Jasmine was a bitch, but I didn’t think she was a slut too.”

“Cindy, watch your mouth!” Wes shouted.

Stunned, Janet shook her head. “I…I’m not Jasmine,” she mumbled. She realized with a jolt that was the first time in her whole life she didn’t want to be confused with her sister.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re her evil twin,” Cindy mocked. “Do I look that stupid?”

“Actually, she’s the good twin,” Wes said, standing up and placing a protective arm around Janet.

“Huh?” Cindy said, looking from one to the other.

“Didn’t Jasmine tell you she had a sister? This is Janet, her twin,” Wes said to his own sister. Then looking at Janet he smiled and added, “And she’s my girlfriend… the best girlfriend in the world.”

Cindy gaped, dumbfounded. Slowly she stepped closer to Janet peering intently into her face. “Are you sure?”

Wes laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure. This is Janet. I know they look alike but I can tell them apart very easy.”

“Wow,” Cindy mumbled, still staring wide-eyed at Janet. “She looks so much like Jasmine.”

“Cindy, don’t you have something to say to Janet?” Wes suggested.

“Uh…hi?” she said, looking a bit sheepish.

“Little late for that, Cindy. How about apologizing for calling her names?” he said, giving her a stern look only an older brother could.

“I’m sorry, Janet, but I thought you were Jasmine and she’s such a…”

“Cindy!” Wes warned.

“It’s okay,” Janet said, even as she felt an uncomfortable twist in her stomach. She didn’t like Jasmine being called a bitch, even if it wasn’t true. 

Unfortunately, something told her it might be.

Chapter 27: Matter of trust

“Come sit with me so I can show you this,” Wes said holding out one hand while the other moved the mouse around, clicking here and there.

Janet looked around and seeing no chair other than the one Wes was using, she sat on the edge of his bed.

“You can’t see from over there, Janet,” he said impatiently.

“There’s no other seat,” she said.

Wes looked around frowning. “Who the hell stole my other chair?”

“The same person that stole your Hustler magazines?” she asked. She regretted instantly bringing up sex again.

He chuckled. “I told you I don’t have any,” he said.

“Maxim then,” she muttered. She could kick herself. Why couldn’t she just stay quiet?

“Okay, you got me there,” he said laughing and holding his hand to her. “Come here.”

She hesitated a bit staring at his hand.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“You… uh…you like to hold hands, huh?” she said evasively.

Taken aback he let his arm fall to his lap. “You don’t?”

“It’s funny,” she said walking around the room again.

“What is?” he asked now watching her with a crease between his brows.

“Most guys don’t like holding hands,” she said, even as she recalled her father holding her own hand, Jasmine’s and her mother’s too. He only stopped holding Stevie’s hand when he turned ten. She was struck again at how similar Wes and her dad were.

“That’s not true,” Wes insisted. “I see guys holding hands with their girlfriends all over the place.”

“Yeah, but they don’t really want to. It’s the girls that want to. They're the ones holding on and the guys are …just there,” she said, looking out the window into the immaculate backyard.

“Then I’m weird. I get it from my dad, I’m sure. He always used to hold hands with my mom and he used to with me when I was little and he still does with my sister.”

“Yeah,” she said turning around to look at him. “But I’m sure guys would rather be holding something else.”

“Like what?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Like…pecs,” she said forcing a smile.

He laughed. “You're really funny, but you’re right. You know we can’t help it, though,” he said, glancing at her chest. “They’re nice to look at, so, naturally we eventually want to touch them too. It’s in our genes.”

“No, in your jeans,” she said, suddenly angry. “You better not be thinking of that with me. Got me?”

“Janet,” Wes said, shocked. “You know I wouldn’t do that!”

“Do I?”

“We were just joking around. I know I was,” he said staring incredulously at her. “So, you weren’t kidding before, when you asked if I was gonna rape you. You can trust me, Janet. I would never, ever do that…to anyone, but especially not you.”

She frowned, confused. What did that mean? Especially not her? But she didn’t care about that right now. He had said the magic words. She couldn’t count how many times she heard her father say, “Never trust anyone who says, trust me when you don’t think you should.”

“My…someone told me never to trust anybody who tells me to trust them,” she said, looking at him suspiciously.

Wes felt his heart sink to his feet. What had just happened? How had it come to this? They were getting along so well all day long and now Janet was afraid to be in the same room with him?  She actually didn’t trust him. Was it just because he brought her to his bedroom? He looked around critically looking for any reason she should fear him now. He couldn’t see anything that she would find threatening. He concluded it must be him.

He looked at her and suddenly felt like kicking himself. He had crossed the line from playful banter to sexual harassment and he didn’t have a clue how it happened. Now she was looking at him as if he were some ugly insect which crawled out from under a rock ready to bite her. He could clearly see her wanting to stomp on him and squish him dead and he only had himself to blame. 

What just about killed him was they had gotten so close today. All day they had such fun that he thought he could stop pretending and actually tell her how he felt about her. Now he’d be lucky if she still wanted to be friends. He may have ruined all that with one fell-swoop. She simply didn’t trust him and that hurt more than he cared to think about.

He ground his back teeth. “Nothing I can do about that,” he muttered angrily and went back to his computer. “I’ll take you home then, but first I’d like you to see this.”

She stayed where she was. He glared at her then stood up, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back to his chair where he plopped her down onto his lap.

“Wes, what the hell!” she shrieked.

“You can stop acting like a hysterical virgin. If I was gonna rape you, I would’ve done it already,” he snarled.

This stung, but Janet wasn’t about to let him know it. “I’m not hysterical, but I am a virgin and I plan on staying that way…forever!” she said, attempting to get up.

“Yeah, I get it and I got news for you. I’m a virgin, too and I plan on staying that way until the girl I love loves me back. Now shut up and look!” he said through clenched teeth, pointing to the computer screen, then giving the mouse a final click.

Janet fought to free herself, but the arm Wes had around her waist might as well have been made of steel. She couldn’t budge it at all. “Let go of me!” she yelled and then her eyes fell on the screen and her struggles ceased instantly.

She stared, her mouth agape. There in front of her in blazing bright pink sprinkled with gold and white hearts and adorned with a picture of Troy with his arms around Jasmine both smiling for the camera was a website for Janet the Yenta.

“Wes…when did you do this?” she whispered, a shiver going through her as she stared at the screen and reached for the mouse on which Wes’ hand still lay.

“The night I fixed your laptop,” he answered as he loosened his grip on her, but didn’t remove his arm. “It’s rough still. Just some basic stuff up for now. There’s a bio page, the history of the yenta, a few testimonials  and one for services and prices, but that’s pretty bare. Didn’t know what to do with that. You’ll have to tell me what you want on there. It can all be changed around, too. ..to whatever you like, any way you like…if you like it…Do you like it?”

Like it? Was he nuts? It was awesome! She suddenly felt horrible for not trusting him and now she felt like crying. She spun around on his lap and hugged him fiercely about the neck.

“Wes, I’m sorry I got you mad at me,” she mumbled, pressing her lips into his neck to keep them from trembling.

He held her close closing his eyes in relief. He was as happy now as he had been miserable two seconds before. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me,” he said. “I was just teasing. I thought you knew that. But I understand. You’re a girl and you gotta worry cuz...cuz  you’re little and not as strong as some of the weakest guys. You could be overpowered so easily. I tell my sister that all the time, not to trust just anybody, especially guys.”

She released him and looked into his face. “I was being silly,” she said.

“No, you were just trying to protect yourself,” he said shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I wish I could make you believe me, but I would never hurt you…not on purpose.” 

He frowned and took her arm, the one he grabbed in his anger. He caressed the slightly red spot. “I did hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”  He then brought it to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

Tiny tingles went up her arm and down her spine. She shook her head. “You didn’t,” she lied. It did hurt a tiny bit, but right now it felt rather nice to have him touching that spot so softly. She supposed her arm might even bruise by tomorrow, but she could tell he really was sorry and that made all the difference. 

“I do trust you, Wes. really," she said. "Are we friends still?” 

Every fiber in his being screamed, “No, not friends!”, but he couldn’t get up the courage to say otherwise. “The best kind,” he said.

Janet smiled and kissed him. “Why are you so nice to me?” she asked.

There were so many ways to answer that, but none of them came to him readily except for one. “Cuz you’re my yenta,” he said, unconsciously pulling her closer to him. “And I’ll do anything for my yenta. And I’ll never hurt her. I’ll cut my arm off before I do that.”

“I am your yenta. You’ll see, Wes. I’m gonna get you the best girlfriend ever. She’ll be perfect, smart and pretty and funny and everything else you want her to be and you know what?”

“What?”

“She’s even gonna want to have sex with you! But she won’t be slutty. You deserve better than that,” she said giggling.

“Janet…” he started but she had turned around and her attention was now fully on the computer screen. She moved the mouse around to all the different features of the website as Wes sighed and stared longingly at the back of her head. 

At least she wasn’t mad at him anymore. He didn’t ever want to get her mad at him again…not ever!

Chapter 26: A father’s warning

Janet hadn’t ever felt apprehensive with Wes, but she certainly did now. 

Why, she wondered, was he looking at her like that, as if she weren’t dressed –or perhaps he was thinking of undressing her himself?--and why had he closed his bedroom door?  Granted he hadn’t locked it, but still… why? It made her a tad uneasy. Did he plan on doing her harm? Had she inadvertently gotten him thinking of that sort of behavior just because of her wise-guy remark about the playboys? More importantly, was she now in trouble?

Damn it! Her father was right. She was too naïve for her own good and too trusting too. Her thoughts went zooming back to that uncharacteristically serious discussion she had had with her father. It was the last time she recalled really chatting with him. That was just a few weeks before her parents separated. 

“Janet baby, come here a minute. I need to tell you something,” Jeffery had said looking unusually grave.

“Did I do something wrong, Daddy?” she asked allowing him to take her hand and pull her onto the couch next to him.

He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “When have you ever done anything wrong? You’re perfect.”

She giggled. “Silly Daddy.”

He stared at her for a long time his expression clouded. “You’re birthday’s coming up soon. Can’t believe you’re going to be sixteen! Kids just grow up too quick. You’re getting so pretty too, and that’s when the trouble starts,” he said ominously.

“Huh?” Janet said utterly confused. “How is getting pretty trouble?”

“Boys will start to notice you. They’ve already noticed your sister and that’s troubling enough, but you…”

“Wait, shouldn’t Jasmine be here too then to hear this?”

“I had this talk with her years ago, when she first started being boy crazy,” he said, frowning. 

“So, like…when we were in kindergarten?” Janet said smiling impishly.

Jeffery laughed. “Not quite that far back, although, it might not have been a bad idea,” he retorted. 

“Why did it take you so long to get to me?” she asked.

“It’s just…Jasmine and you are very different.”

“No, we’re not,” she said shaking her head.

“You are,” he said, now glancing over his shoulder and lowering his voice. “I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell Jasmine. It could hurt her feelings and I don’t want that.”

“Okay. What is it, Daddy?” she asked her eyes wide in wonder.

“You’re smarter than Jazzy. Book smart I mean. She’s more…savvy though. Do you understand?”

“No,” she said frowning now.

“You’re much more naïve,” he said softly.

“I…I am?” she squeaked.

“That’s not a bad thing,” he said quickly. “ It’s just…I worry about you.”

“You don’t worry about Jasmine?”

“Believe me, I do. fathers worry all the time about their daughters, especially when they’re boy crazy."

“But I’m not boy crazy, Daddy,” she said smiling. “You don’t have to worry.”

He gazed into her big brown eyes and smiled sadly. “No, not you,” he said wistfully. “You will have a boyfriend soon enough, though. So, I want to prepare you, so boys don’t get a chance to hurt you.”

Her eyes grew huge. “You think they’re gonna…what….break my arm or something?” she shrieked.

“Oh, baby, if it was only a broken arm. No, I’m talking about emotional hurt.”

“Um…okay,” she said, looking confused again.

“I’m sorry, I’m not doing this very well. Okay,” he said stealing himself. “This is the thing. Teenage boys are ruled by hormones.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

“Everything they do and say is for one reason, just one. To get what they want most of all,” Jeffery said staring intently into her eyes as if willing her to read his thoughts so he needn’t say the words aloud.

“Um…what do they want?”

Jeffery sighed. “What nature tells them they must do. To procreate.”

She gaped at him. “Wait, you’re telling me boys want to have babies?” she asked, incredulous.

He hung his head and muttered, “I’m making a mess of this. No, baby, they don’t actually want the babies. They just want to… to do the act which results in babies.”

She blinked a few times. “You mean sex,” she said boldly.

“Yes, Janet,” he said endlessly relieved.

“So, why do you think I gotta know this? I’m not gonna have sex! I belong to the To-thine-own-self-be-true-club,” she said.

He frowned. “A Shakespear club?”

“Why does everybody say that?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Has nothing to do with him. It’s a club for girls in school who just don’t want all that stupid sex stuff to spoil everything. Did I tell you? Amanda Barker is pregnant! Third girl this year. So stupid! With all the birth control out there and everything and still…”

“Honey, that’s just it. She probably had no intention of even having sex. Her boyfriend probably tricked her,” he said earnestly.

Janet gaped. “How do you know that?”

He suddenly looked very guilty. “It…it’s what they do,” he mumbled, looking away.

Janet stared at her father for a good long while. “Did…did you do that…when you were a teenager? Did you trick girls into having sex with you?” she asked, holding her breath. "Did you do that with Mom?"

“Janet,” he said grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Not all boys are bad. That’s not what I’m saying. But the thing is, it’s hard to tell the good ones from the bad ones especially when you’re so young and inexperienced. Even the good ones are ruled by hormones, you know, and things can get out of hand so easily without any intent. Some guys are like that. They sweet talk and lie and tell you you’re the best girl in the world. They’ll do anything and say anything to …to get you to give in. They’ll even tell you they love you and maybe they believe it themselves cuz at that moment lust can feel like love and…”

“So, lust makes them lie to get sex. Okay, that makes sense,” she said.

“I just want you to be aware because a broken arm heals quickly enough but a broken heart…not so much and sometimes it never heals,” he said, his jaw clenched as he gently brushed his knuckles along her soft cheek. “I swear if any punk-ass kid hurts you, I’ll kill him! Do you understand?”

Much to his astonishment, Janet giggled and threw her arms around his neck. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I don’t ever need a boyfriend cuz I got you! You’ll never hurt me.”

Jeffery smiled and held her close, his heart swelling with love. “I’d sooner die, baby.”

Had it really been only 5 months ago? She had been so happy then. She loved her father beyond reason and then….Just a few weeks later her world was shattered when her parents had a blazing row and her mother kicked Jeffery out of the house.

Her heart pounded frantically as she watched Wes smile at her. That sexy smile, she thought suddenly, could be the equivalent of lies, couldn’t it? He needn’t even utter a word and he could get a girl flat on her back. She swallowed hard noticing as she did so, that her mouth was suddenly very dry and her hands shook.

Feigning a casual attitude she didn’t quite feel she moved around the room looking at anything but the large, comfy bed with the dark wood headboard. She focused on a poster of a pretty blonde St. Paulie girl on one wall. She glanced at a half-naked, seductively posing Jessica Alba on another poster and wondered if Wes saw Janet that way. Was Wes at this exact moment thinking of tossing her onto his bed and having his way with her? Her heart gave a little jump at the thought and when she felt Wes’ hands encircle her waist she actually did jump and backed away from him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, amazing herself to find her voice had not betrayed her nervousness.

“Nothing,” he said, predictably.

“That again,” she muttered then added in a clear yet playful voice, “You said you were going to be good.”

“I’m sure gonna try,” he retorted, that sexy grin in place as he took a step closer. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint my yenta.”

“Very funny. Are you thinking of doing nasty things to me?” she said casually, again taking a step back.

“Nasty, no. Awesome, definitely,” he retorted, taking a step closer and reaching for her.

She swiftly pulled away. “Let’s try that again. Are you planning on raping me?” she asked point blank.

He paused for a moment wondering if she was serious. He stared, but seeing her face lacking fear, he assumed she was kidding so he grinned. “The first girl I get into my bed will want to be there, I can assure you,” he said.

“Ah,” she said, nodding pensively. “So, it’s the second girl that’ll have to worry.”

He burst out laughing and grabbed her hand before she could evade him again. “You’re so much fun,” he said caressing her cheek and kissing the tip of her nose. He then released her, went to his desk and turned on the computer.

Janet didn’t know what to think of that move. Had her imagination run away from her? Had Wes never thought of harming her? Perhaps she wasn’t so naïve after all. Maybe she could trust him. Her father’s warning, however, still rang in her ears.

Chapter 25: Meeting Cynthia Wesley

“Wow! This is some house,” Janet said, her eyes opened to their widest as she looked avidly around the foyer. 

“We like it,” Wes retorted.

“Oh, Wes!” she said, excitedly going to a large portrait opposite the door. “This must be your mother.”

She stared at the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Her hair was long, black and curling, just like the lashes which fanned so perfectly around large, midnight black eyes. Those eyes, Wes’ eyes, held mischief and her smile seemed playful. In all, the woman had a distinctly happy aspect. It made you long to be with her, to know her.

“She’s so beautiful!” Janet gushed.

Wes stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders as he too looked at his mother’s lovely face. “She was,” he said, sadly.

 Janet suddenly remembered this woman was no longer on this earth. This loving wife and mother was dead due to some stupid drunk with a car. Angry tears filled her eyes. She knew Wes missed her dreadfully as she would if it had been her own mother who was dead with only her portrait left as proof she had been here at all.  

She grabbed one of his hands squeezing it. “I wish I could’ve met her,” she mumbled.

Wes wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her close. “She would’ve loved you,” he whispered in her ear.

“You think?” she said, both surprised and hopeful.

“Positive,” he replied, kissing her cheek.

For several minutes they stood like this simply staring at the portrait and enjoying the feel of each other. Finally, Janet sighed and slowly turned around. Wes looked so much like his mom yet he lacked that decidedly happy aspect she had, at least at the moment. She so wanted to tell him something, anything to make him feel better, but not finding the proper words she did the next best thing. She hugged him.

“I’m sorry about your mom, Wes,” she said quietly.

Surprised, Wes smiled and held her tight. “You’re so sweet, Janet…just like my mom,” he said.

She lightly kissed him. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Genius,” she said. “Um, will you show me your house?”

Taken aback he said, “Really?”

“Please?” she said pouting a little.

“How could I say no to my yenta?” he retorted, taking her hand and leading her first to the formal living room. “I think you can guess what this is.”

“Yes,” she said smiling impishly. “It’s the kitchen.”

He chuckled. “Smart girl.”

Janet ooh-ed and ahh-ed throughout the first floor, loving the house. Wes seemed to be enjoying showing her the house and her reaction until he brought her to double sliding pocket doors and he just stood there staring at them.

“Um, Wes, are you okay?” she asked after having waited a full minute.

He nodded absently. “I don’t go in here…much,” he said gruffly. “It’s my mom’s office.”

“Oh,” Janet said, touching his arm. “We don’t have to go in there.”

“It’s okay,” he said, squaring his shoulders before throwing the doors open. He let Janet enter first.

Feminine and efficient, Janet thought as she moved further into the room and looked around. It was a sunny, airy room with large floor to ceiling windows covered with lacy curtains and overlooking the formal gardens.  At one end of the room, a comfy sofa with a large floral print sat in front of a massive stone fireplace. Twin bookcases flanked this each full with leather bound books. As Janet got closer she noticed one was full of famous and not-so-famous novels, thrillers, romance, mysteries and classics. Oddly, the other held books from only one author, a Cynthia Wesley.

Janet had heard of this author and even read a few of these books. She was one of her mother’s favorites, too. Then, Janet turned and spotted several New York Times best seller plagues and other impressive romance novel writer awards on the walls beside the shelves. They all bore the same name Cynthia Wesley. She gaped at these and read them over and over again. She then turned to Wes, the question apparent on her face.

“That was my mother’s pen name. Her real name was Margarita Esperaza Cabrera Sabastian. Not exactly as easy to remember as Nora Roberts or Stephen King. Her agent told her it wouldn’t sell, so she changed it to Cynthia Wesley. Her children’s names put together,” he said dispassionately.

“Wow,” Janet whispered in awe. “I know you said she was a writer, but I never thought she was someone I would know. There must be hundreds of her books here. I’m gonna read all of them now that I know who wrote them! I heard once that writers pour a little of themselves into their stories. JK Rowling did. I’ll bet your mom did too. I can get to know her through her stories. Maybe I can. What do you think? Wes?”

Janet tore her eyes away from the books to see if Wes was even still there. He was, but it didn’t seem he heard her at all. He stood just barely inside the door with his fists stuffed deep into his front pockets. He stared miserably at the beautiful, antique white and gold wooden desk which sat at the other end of the room. It was lovely yet somewhat messy and disorganized with notebooks, sundry sized scraps of scribbled on paper, folders, brochures, pamphlets and books on topics as diverse as astrology, forensic evidence, baby names, mythology, medicinal herbs, drug interaction and criminal profiling. All this surrounded a dusty computer monitor and keyboard with several letters worn off, probably from overuse. 

This, Janet could see quite clearly, was the center of a very successful creative writer’s world, one which she would love to explore if only to get to know how it all worked, the putting together of a novel. But she merely glanced at this. It was Wes which concerned her at present. The sad, lost little boy expression on his face broke her heart.

She rushed to him and forced a smile on her face. “Come away, Wes. I have to go home soon and I haven’t seen the rest of the house,” she said as cheerily as she could muster taking him by the arm and out of the room, closing the doors behind them.

She led him to the curving staircase at the front of the house all the while chatting nonstop about anything that popped into her head. It was the only thing she could think of doing. It was how she saw her mom deal with her sister when her husband had been killed in the war. You have to try your best to distract them. That way they don’t feel as bad as they might otherwise. 

“Have you lived here all your life? It’s such a great house…twice the size of mine. You know, I may get lost here. You better draw up a map for me or I’ll get lost on the way to the bathroom,” she  teased.

By the time they reached the top of the stairs, she managed to get Wes to smile ever-so-slightly.

“Is this your room?” she asked pointing to the first closed door.

“No, that’s Cindy’s room,” Wes said, as he reached for the doorknob.

“Oh, we better not go in there. She might kill us!” she said, feigning fear.

“You may be right,” he agreed. “The room at the end is my dad’s and the one across is a guest room but this one, is mine. Before I let you in, though, I should warn you.”

“Hmm, a typical teenage boy’s room? Posters of half-naked girls on the walls and playboys under the bed?” she asked smirking. “I’ll try to divert mine innocent eyes.”

He chuckled and scooped her into his arms, squeezing her tightly. “Thanks, Janet.” He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn’t.  He figured she wouldn’t want to hear it anyway.

“Um…okay,” she said.

“What I was going to say was that it’s messy,” Wes said after he released her.

“Oh, well, I can handle that,” she said dismissively.

He stared at her for a few seconds and odd thoughts popped into his head. He pictured himself carrying Janet over the threshold as if they were newlyweds, the both of them falling onto his unmade bed and…

“Wes, are you okay?” she asked, her soft, warm hand on his cheek. “I don’t care if it’s messy.”

“Uh…yeah…right. Sorry,” he mumbled, opening the door. He frowned as he walked in and looked around. “What the…?”

“You call this messy? It’s cleaner than mine!” Janet said laughing.

“I thought the house seemed much cleaner. I think my dad finally got a maid service to come. I didn’t think they would come in here though,” he said grumpily.

Janet patted him consolingly on the arm. “I’m sure they didn’t take your playboys,” she said, trying to hide a grin.

“I don’t have any,” he said genuinely smiling now.

“Penthouse, then?”

He laughed. “You are so…”

“Unreasonably clothed?” she suggested innocently. “I’m not playboy material anyway.”

He stared at her grinning and took a minute to thank God for the best girl he’d ever have in his bedroom. He then went to the door and closed it until it clicked.