Bearly Hanging On (The Jamesburg Shifters #6)(49)

"Herself?" Jamie asked, recognizing the story immediately.

"Ah, but it wasn't herself, not really. It was what she thought that others thought of her. She decided that since she was different, both in heart, and in body, that she stuck out, that she wasn't one of them."

Jamie was nodding. This had gotten to the point a lot faster than most of his stories, although she wasn't entirely sure what the point was, this seemed to be moving in that direction.

"Her case was so odd, because the only thing that saved that girl, I've always thought, is all the tragedy she managed to survive." He coughed, turning his head to the side. It was a dry, rattling cough that had as much to do with age than it did anything else. "Do you remember the first time you sat in that chair?"

Jamie looked down at the armrests, trying to remember if it was actually this chair that she first sat in.

"It was that chair," Jenga said. "My memory isn't what it used to be, but I've kept a few things straight over all them years. That chair was the first one you sat in when I did this way back when. Then of course, I went a bit insane, but I got better."

Jamie snickered at his digression, which from the way he smiled at her, was exactly the point of what he said. She shook her head, though. "I don't. I mean, not exactly. My head was in a thousand different places back then."

"It's in more than one right now, unless I'm wrong."

"Shit," Jamie swore with a slight chuckle. "Yeah, I'll say. I don't think I've ever been more confused about what I should be doing."

Jenga smiled one of his Cheshire grins. "I think you've been far more lost before." And just like that damn cat, he had to say something cryptic. "I think right now, your mind is clearer than ever before. You're afraid, though, of what that might mean."

She stared at him, long and hard. What he said was exactly right, of course, but damn if she could help what she was feeling. She must have been shaking her head a lot more than she thought, because Jenga talked before she could.

"It's normal, you know," he said. "Normal to feel the way you do. But you said something else - you were talking about thinking about the past? Is it your parents?"

Jamie shook her head. "No," she whispered. "It's... I'm okay with that, now. I was thinking about," she reached for her tissue and took it away from her face a lot more red than she thought it was going to be. How long had it been since she thought about what had happened?

"I was thinking about," she sniffed again. "Well, you're the only one that knows. I think."

"Ah," the old man sat forward, and put the pen and notepad down on the table in front of him. "The baby, yes?”

"I don't know why I started thinking about it," she said as a red drop fell on Jenga's floor. Jamie pushed at it with her toe, then bent over to wipe it up.

"That's one of the least gross things that has graced this floor in quite some time," he said to make her smile. It worked, at least for a moment. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't that long ago, you know. Only three years, which seems the distant past to you young'uns, but to me seems like yesterday."

Jamie was nodding. "I know, but it's... I just didn't think I was the sort of person to still be upset about something like that, something so," she trailed off again, searching for the words. Finally, she just started shaking her head. "That doesn't seem like me, you know? I didn't even want a baby, I mean, not really. I didn't even know I had one. Until..."

Standing up and moving to the chair closer to her, Jenga grabbed one of Jamie's hands and rubbed his thumbs on the back. "The little girl you once were," he said, very slowly, very softly, "she has never left. Not entirely. You're stronger now, you've grown, yes? But that insecurity, the inability to really believe in yourself - that's never left. It's in the back of your mind, and will never leave, because it's been part of you for as long as there's been a Jamie."

Everything he said made sense. It always did, but that didn't mean she liked it one damn bit. "I just thought I had gotten over all that, I—" she stopped short and dabbed at her eyes. "I lied," she said, "about not knowing why I started thinking about the miscarriage."

"Oh?" Jenga's eyes were smiling. He had that way of relaxing a person just with a look from those gentle, pale blue eyes. "I never would have guessed."

"Shut up," she laughed softly. "I went out there - to see Ryan, to tell him that he needed to stop all the, all the shit. Anyway, he took me to meet a couple of elderly koalas that—"

"Mature," Jenga said. When Jamie gave him a quizzical look, he continued, "we prefer to be called mature these days."

That got her to laugh again, which she really needed. She took a deep breath and squeezed Jenga's hand. "Right, a couple of mature koalas. They were fighting and bickering, just like in an old movie. But God, did they love each other."

Her voice was starting to thicken, the back of Jamie's throat tickling a little with the buildup of emotion. "They just... every time that old woman sniped at the old man, they'd give each other the most irritated looks, and then they'd just smile. You know what I mean?"

"I do," Jenga said, his eyes seeming to get a little misty, as he looked off in the distance. "What was it about that?"