Angels Everywhere - Debbie Macomber [215]
So she was right.
“I can’t stay any longer, Jenny. I’d like to, but I’ve got a herd of cattle to worry about, and I can’t leave Pete alone much longer.”
“I understand.” If anyone could appreciate his need to return, it was she. After all, she was a rancher’s daughter. That Trey had stayed in New York this long was something of a surprise. Just when she was growing accustomed to having him with her. Just when her heart felt whole again. He was going to leave her. “Maybe you’ll be able to visit again soon,” she said, fighting to disguise the ache in her heart. Next time. The only way she could deal with his leaving was to look into the future and the promise of his return.
The birdseed gone, Jenny experienced the need to sit down. She walked over and sank onto a park bench.
Trey joined her. “When will you be able to talk to Michelle?”
For a moment Jenny didn’t know what he was talking about. “Soon,” she said, and then remembered Trey had asked her to dinner. A fond farewell dinner. A “gee, but it’s been swell” good-bye dinner.
Her stomach clenched, then tied itself into a knot that tightened with each breath. As the ache intensified, Jenny realized how much she wanted Trey to stay. How much she needed him in her life.
Sitting on the edge of the park bench, her hands buried deep in her coat pockets, Jenny tried to compose herself, fearing she’d embarrass them both by breaking into tears.
“Jenny—”
“Michelle’s at the apartment now. We can go ask her,” she suggested cheerfully. That she could fool Trey into thinking nothing was amiss was a testament to how truly talented an actress she was.
“Michelle’s there now?”
Jenny checked her watch. “If not, she will be any minute. Why don’t we go back to the apartment? It’s about lunchtime anyway. I can fix you a sandwich. I make an excellent peanut butter and jelly.”
He didn’t answer her right away. “If that’s what you want.”
“Sure,” she said, rushing to her feet as though tickled pink to return to her small, cramped apartment and slap together two pieces of bread.
It didn’t escape Jenny’s notice that Trey didn’t speak a single word on the way home. Perhaps it was the subway, which she knew confused him; it had her in the beginning, too, but now she was a pro when it came to finding her way around the city. Of course she didn’t take it at night, and never when she was alone.
She unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside.
“It doesn’t look like Michelle’s back,” Trey murmured.
“She’ll be here any time,” Jenny said confidently. Now that she was home, in familiar surroundings, she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to keep up the pretense. The tightening, empty feeling in the pit of her stomach had spread to her heart and her throat. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
“Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get you a sandwich,” she said, eager for an excuse to leave him. She needed this time to compose herself, to figure out how she was going to see him off and do it with a smile. No one was that good an actress.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You will be soon enough,” she said, hoping she sounded enthusiastic. “If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it later.” She walked into the kitchen and braced her hands against the kitchen sink and closed her eyes. Inhaling deep breaths didn’t seem to help.
Trey was going back to Montana, where he belonged—where she belonged, too. Only she was too proud to admit it, too stubborn to throw in the towel. For three years she’d given all that she had, looking for a chance to prove herself. All that effort, all her talent, had gotten her was a job as a singing waitress in a two-star restaurant.
Leaning forward, she propped her elbows on the kitchen counter and pushed the hair away from her forehead. She tried taking in short breaths, followed by deep ones. Nothing seemed to help.
Damn it all, she was going to cry. Trey would see, and then he’d want to know what was wrong. She didn’t know what she would tell him.
If Michelle came home, perhaps her friend could