Dreams for Stones Read Online Free PDF
Author: Ann Warner
and composed as if she were at a tea party.
Shock maybe. But whatever its cause, she was grateful for it. She
would not break down in front of him.
“Look, Kitten. I didn’t do it to—”
“Don’t. Call. Me. Kitten.” The words ground
out, surprising her as much as they seemed to surprise him. But,
after all, she’d never used that tone with him before. Quite
possibly she’d never used that tone with anyone before.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He stood and backed
carefully away from her, as if she were a rattlesnake coiled to
strike. “I’ll get some things. Leave. You can stay here until you
go back.”
“Just a minute.” She unclenched her jaw, but
kept her tone firm. “I’m not through here.”
He froze.
“I want to get this straight. You’re in love
with another woman, but you still slept with me.”
His eyes appeared glazed, and a feeling of
power swept through her, momentarily pushing aside any possibility
she might start crying.
“Do you have any idea what that makes you?”
She thought of all the names she could call him. Delicious,
colorful, awful names. “You’re. . . despicable. Dishonest. And
dishonorable.” Good strong spitting words, and she made the most of
them.
His body bowed slightly, as if he were
folding in on himself.
She eased her hands apart and took a breath,
but she was finished. Less is more, she told herself. Too many
words would dilute her contempt. Besides, if she kept talking, she
might not be able to stop. Might start weeping. And she would
not cry in front of him.
After a stunned moment, he turned and
escaped into the bedroom, and she took a deep breath and closed her
eyes against the pain beginning to spread inside her head and
chest. A few minutes more, Kathleen Hope Jamison. Two minutes,
three at the most. Then you can fall apart.
When Greg came out of the bedroom, he’d
recovered his composure. “I’m really, really sorry about this.”
As if that would erase what he’d done.
“We can talk more if you want. Tomorrow. And
here, this will help pay for your ticket. It’s all I’ve got on
me.”
Kathy stared in disbelief at the hand
holding money out to her. When she didn’t move to take it, he set
the clutch of bills on the table.
For a moment their eyes met before his
skittered away. He cleared his throat as if to say something more,
then apparently thinking better of it, he picked up his bag and
left.
She sagged in relief, taking several deep
breaths, then glanced at the table. The money was where he’d placed
it, but the ring was gone. She stared at the empty place where the
ring had been, realizing abruptly how disappointed she’d been with
it. The large emerald-cut diamond had been all Greg’s choice. “Hey,
Kit, what’s more debt?” he’d said, when she protested it made more
sense to pick a less expensive ring. “Only a couple of years before
we hit the big time. Besides, you’ll have it forever.”
Right.
So, why hadn’t she thrown it at him? It was
the least she could have done, and probably what he expected her to
do. But no. She’d let him off with words.
He’d taken her future and, with one sharp
twist, skewed it into an unknowable shape. Then he walked out.
Going to. . . what did he say her name was, Jeannie, Jennie? No.
Julie, that was it. No longer Kathy and Greg. Now it was Greg and
Julie. Julie and Greg.
And why wasn’t she crying? Or yelling? Or
something?
Instead she felt hollowed out, as if Greg
had walked out taking with him not only a change of underwear but
her emotions.
After a time, she managed to stand, her
movements labored and stiff, like someone bruised all over from a
terrible fall.
Falling in love.
Right. More like floating in love. But
this. . . this . . . Angrily she gave up trying to find the
right word. This other thing that just happened. That was
falling.
She searched until she found a phone book,
called Continental Airlines, and reserved a seat on the six a.m.
flight to Denver.
One step at a
Shock maybe. But whatever its cause, she was grateful for it. She
would not break down in front of him.
“Look, Kitten. I didn’t do it to—”
“Don’t. Call. Me. Kitten.” The words ground
out, surprising her as much as they seemed to surprise him. But,
after all, she’d never used that tone with him before. Quite
possibly she’d never used that tone with anyone before.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He stood and backed
carefully away from her, as if she were a rattlesnake coiled to
strike. “I’ll get some things. Leave. You can stay here until you
go back.”
“Just a minute.” She unclenched her jaw, but
kept her tone firm. “I’m not through here.”
He froze.
“I want to get this straight. You’re in love
with another woman, but you still slept with me.”
His eyes appeared glazed, and a feeling of
power swept through her, momentarily pushing aside any possibility
she might start crying.
“Do you have any idea what that makes you?”
She thought of all the names she could call him. Delicious,
colorful, awful names. “You’re. . . despicable. Dishonest. And
dishonorable.” Good strong spitting words, and she made the most of
them.
His body bowed slightly, as if he were
folding in on himself.
She eased her hands apart and took a breath,
but she was finished. Less is more, she told herself. Too many
words would dilute her contempt. Besides, if she kept talking, she
might not be able to stop. Might start weeping. And she would
not cry in front of him.
After a stunned moment, he turned and
escaped into the bedroom, and she took a deep breath and closed her
eyes against the pain beginning to spread inside her head and
chest. A few minutes more, Kathleen Hope Jamison. Two minutes,
three at the most. Then you can fall apart.
When Greg came out of the bedroom, he’d
recovered his composure. “I’m really, really sorry about this.”
As if that would erase what he’d done.
“We can talk more if you want. Tomorrow. And
here, this will help pay for your ticket. It’s all I’ve got on
me.”
Kathy stared in disbelief at the hand
holding money out to her. When she didn’t move to take it, he set
the clutch of bills on the table.
For a moment their eyes met before his
skittered away. He cleared his throat as if to say something more,
then apparently thinking better of it, he picked up his bag and
left.
She sagged in relief, taking several deep
breaths, then glanced at the table. The money was where he’d placed
it, but the ring was gone. She stared at the empty place where the
ring had been, realizing abruptly how disappointed she’d been with
it. The large emerald-cut diamond had been all Greg’s choice. “Hey,
Kit, what’s more debt?” he’d said, when she protested it made more
sense to pick a less expensive ring. “Only a couple of years before
we hit the big time. Besides, you’ll have it forever.”
Right.
So, why hadn’t she thrown it at him? It was
the least she could have done, and probably what he expected her to
do. But no. She’d let him off with words.
He’d taken her future and, with one sharp
twist, skewed it into an unknowable shape. Then he walked out.
Going to. . . what did he say her name was, Jeannie, Jennie? No.
Julie, that was it. No longer Kathy and Greg. Now it was Greg and
Julie. Julie and Greg.
And why wasn’t she crying? Or yelling? Or
something?
Instead she felt hollowed out, as if Greg
had walked out taking with him not only a change of underwear but
her emotions.
After a time, she managed to stand, her
movements labored and stiff, like someone bruised all over from a
terrible fall.
Falling in love.
Right. More like floating in love. But
this. . . this . . . Angrily she gave up trying to find the
right word. This other thing that just happened. That was
falling.
She searched until she found a phone book,
called Continental Airlines, and reserved a seat on the six a.m.
flight to Denver.
One step at a