FanStory.com - Miracles - Chap 5by Begin Again

The following morning, after several bouts of nausea, Jenna managed to make it to work, knowing that Rebecca would be there. Jenna needed a break after introducing her new assistant to the facility and generalizing how things worked.

She rubbed her temples as exhaustion settled in. "Rebecca, I hate to do this to you on your first day, but would you mind fielding calls for a bit? I just need to clear my head. I thought I'd spend some time with Eleanor."

Rebecca smiled reassuringly. "Of course, take as long as you need."

Jenna thanked her and soon found herself walking with Eleanor at the local art gallery. They wandered through the quiet, dimly lit halls, admiring the works displayed along the walls. For a moment, the worries of the past few days faded.

As Eleanor admired one of the new exhibits, Jenna asked, "Do you miss painting and living the secret life of CJ Grey?"

"Sometimes, I miss holding the brush and creating something special, but I don't miss being CJ. She was just a way of keeping my life with Charles secret from the world, especially after you came back into my life. I wouldn't jeopardize losing you again."

"As CJ, you were rich and famous, yet you chose to live a quiet, grandmotherly life — one John Doyle took away from you."

"I chose to live the life that brought me closer to you, Jenna. I was afraid to tell you the truth."

"Because you gave me up at birth? I understood."

"But I had no way of knowing for sure. I was content sharing your life, especially after your adopted parents died. The day you moved in next door was the best day I'd had since your birth." Eleanor wrapped her arm around Jenna's shoulder and squeezed her. "Even though I'd kept in touch with your family and experienced every significant moment of your life, it wasn't the same until I could physically sit and share a cup of coffee with you."

"Don't forget those pastries! I can still smell them as you pulled them from the oven."

"Discovering you loved art was amazing. Those days of sitting in the sunroom, dabbling with the paints, meant much more to me than the work of CJ Grey."

"But she made millions and donated to help so many others."

"I'm glad I could help others, but the money didn't mean anything. And when I saw your grief after my death, it was worse than dying."

Tears glistened in Jenna's eyes. "I couldn't imagine how I would live without you."

"Imagine how I felt when the council allowed me to right some wrongs. I jumped at the chance and have never looked back."

Jenna laughed. "At times, I think you enjoy life as a ghost far more than you did living."

"It has given me the chance to know you better and to make memories we missed out on. Of course, Charles would prefer I stayed in England, but those stuffy halls don't suit me. I must be where I am needed — with you, Matthew, Garth, and Danni."

"I saw Danni yesterday. She's on Cloud Nine after you convinced the council what an asset she would be to the police department if she could be visible like you."

"After those last few cases where she provided crucial information, she deserved it. I'm glad they agreed. She just needs to control some of her spontaneous thoughts." Both women laughed.

As they strolled through the gallery, Eleanor stopped abruptly and focused on a man carrying a painting into a storage area. She stood motionless, watching as the door swung shut.

"Jenna —" Eleanor's voice was barely a whisper. "I must be seeing things, but that was one of Charles's paintings. It's been so long. It couldn't be —" She trailed off as disbelief crossed her face.

"One of Charles' paintings? Maybe it was sold to someone."

"Not this one. He wouldn't have parted with it. It meant too much to him." A gleam lit up Eleanor's eyes as a memory of Charles teaching her to paint flickered across her mind.

"So, you think it's one of the stolen ones?" Jenna glanced around the studio. "Should I get the curator?"

Eleanor gave a slight laugh and shook her head. "No, it's just the loss of Margaret and missing Charles playing tricks with my imagination." She took Jenna's arm, and they continued through the gallery.

Yet, as they wandered, Jenna couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Eleanor's words than a passing whim. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if the painting was a hidden piece of Eleanor's past.

*****

The day finally ended, leaving Jenna drained in both body and mind. She rested her head against her office chair, staring at the stars twinkling in the sky.

Rebecca peeked into the office, offering a smile. "Hey, boss!"

"How was day one as my much-needed assistant?" Jenna asked, mustering a tired grin.

Rebecca chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Surprisingly uneventful, given everything. I think I might even survive this."

Jenna smiled, appreciating the lightness. "I'm glad to hear it. You did great today. I'm sorry. I dumped everything on you."

"Not a problem. That's what you hired me for, right?" Rebecca gave her a quick wave. "Goodnight, Jenna. Try to get some rest yourself."

As the office emptied, silence settled over the offices, and Jenna found peace in watching the shimmering stars.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and slowly, as if the stars were pulling her under, she slipped into a familiar dream.

She stood in Donatelli's bedroom with moonlight filtering through the blinds. His arms were wrapped around her, his lips pressed against her hair. Soft music played, and he hummed the tune in her ear. She felt so safe.

As she tipped her head, offering him her lips, the scene shifted suddenly, violently, as if the ground beneath her had fallen away. Shadows loomed — his shadow — the rapist. Malice filled his eyes. Fear pressed down on her chest. She was suffocating. Gasping for air, she tried to scream, but no sound came out, and her world went black.

Then, with a jolt, she was awake, drenched in sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She clutched her chest, trying to calm the pounding. But nausea rose in her stomach, overwhelming her. She stumbled into the bathroom and sank to her knees, fighting the urge to cry. Losing the battle, she screamed.

The dream was over, but the fear lingered. She pulled her legs to her chest, feeling lost and alone. She needed to tell someone. Eleanor was dealing with Margaret's death. Would Danni understand? Who could she trust with something so personal?

She inhaled sharply, knowing the answer. Matthew was the only one she trusted, the only one who might understand. But would opening up risk everything they had? She didn't know, yet the need for someone to lean on was more potent than her fear.

*****

The following morning, Jenna purposely ran a few errands near the police precinct. She decided to stop in to see Matthew. If the opportunity felt right, she'd tell him about the assault. She knew he'd be angry that she'd waited so long to tell him, but in the end, he would be the one to understand her fear.

She didn't have a description of the man, and it was far too late for a hospital exam, but maybe he could help her deal with the nightmares.

They were growing worse, starting to bleed into her work and her everyday thoughts, leaving her on edge. Maybe he'd know of a support group — something like the meetings people went to for addictions, just a place where she didn't feel so alone in this. She couldn't keep letting this take control of her life.

As she entered the building, her steps quickened, and she headed for the bathroom. She pushed into a stall as her stomach heaved, barely managing to close the door as she vomited. Shaking, she pressed her hands against the sidewalls, trying to steady herself.

Danni recognized Jenna entering the building and hurried to catch up with her to share a few moments of girl talk.

Jenna heard footsteps entering the bathroom. She fought back another bout of vomiting, hoping the person would leave soon. She froze when Danni's voice broke through the silence. "Jenna? Are you okay?"

Jenna took a deep breath, steadying herself, and opened the stall door. Danni was standing there, a look of concern softening her features. She held out a wet paper towel. "You really should see a doctor."

Jenna managed a weak smile, trying to brush it off. "It's just...stomach problems. Probably something I ate."

Danni didn't look convinced but nodded. "If you say so. I didn't mean to intrude. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Thanks, Danni. I'd hoped to see Matthew for a moment. Do you know if he's busy?"

"Just working on reports, I think. Nothing that couldn't be put on hold. Especially when it's a visit from you." Danni waved and hurried back to her office.

Washing her face and brushing her hair, Jenna felt better. She moved down the hall to Matthew's office, intending to surprise him and maybe get a moment of support. She knocked lightly and poked her head in. He was on the phone but held up a finger as he pressed the hold button. His expression was unreadable, but his voice had a cold edge she hadn't expected.

"You need something?" he asked flatly.

"Uh — no, I just thought I'd stop by to say hello."

"It's not a good time," he said curtly, his gaze hard. "I'm really busy. You should have called." He turned his back and returned to the phone call.

She felt the sting of his words and stepped back. "Right, sorry. Danni said — never mind, I'll catch you later."

Jenna left — her heart filled with disappointment. As she made her way to the exit, she passed Danni without a word, her vision blurred by her tears. Outside, she collapsed onto a bench as everything caught up to her. She wrapped her arms around herself and let the tears come.

Curious about what Matthew might have said to Jenna to upset her, Danni poked her head into his office. "Everything alright in here?"

Donatelli looked up and laughed at her expression. "I'm great! Shouldn't I be?"

Danni turned and looked down the hall and then back at him. "Did you see Jenna?"

The smile left his face, and he stared at the pen in his fingers, twirling it around.

"Matthew, what happened? She came to see you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah, but I guess I let my feelings get in the way."

"Why? What did you say to her?"

Matthew cleared his throat and took a swallow of his cold coffee, stalling from giving Danni an answer.

"Donatelli, she left here in tears. What did you say?"

"I told her I was busy."

"Busy? Doing reports that I usually finish for you anyhow?" Danni shook her head in disbelief. "Way to go, Donatelli. You get your chance, and you blow it. Big time!"

"But —"

"I don't want to hear your lousy excuse. You're going to have to fix this, and soon."

She turned and headed back to her office, muttering, "And they say blondes are dumb! Sometimes, I wonder if men even have a brain."

*****

Back at the office, Jenna noticed a small bowl of soup with crackers waiting on her desk, but she barely made it to the bathroom before her stomach revolted again. She held onto the sink as the nausea twisted her insides. Rebecca's voice sounded from the hallway, her footsteps approaching. Jenna glanced up to see Rebecca's concerned reflection in the mirror.

"Jenna, are you sure you're okay?" Rebecca's voice was soft but persistent.

Jenna nodded weakly, wiping her mouth. "I'm fine. Just an upset stomach."

Rebecca bit her lip, clearly unconvinced. "I'll be right back."

Jenna nodded and mumbled, "I'll be right here." She closed the door behind her and leaned against the sink, waiting for the next wave to hit her.

When she convinced herself that it was safe to return to work, Jenna noticed a small, discreet box on her desk — a pregnancy test. Attached was a note from Rebecca — "I'm running out for a few things. As your friend, I am concerned. Toss the test or use it. I won't mention it again. Just take care of yourself."

Jenna stared at the test while her mind battled denial and then fear. After a few minutes, she worked up the courage, entered the bathroom, and took the test. Her hands shook as she waited for the result.

What if it was positive?

A wave of fear coursed through her body as she remembered the rape. No, it couldn't have happened, could it? Who was she fooling? She didn't even believe it was the stomach flu.

After five minutes, she returned to the bathroom and stood staring at the test lying on the sink counter.

Trembling, she closed her eyes, picked up the test, and set it down again.

"This is silly. I'm not pregnant. It's just the flu. Why do people always jump to conclusions when a woman is sick?"

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. "Just look at it, Jenna!"

She swallowed, bracing herself against a truth she wasn't ready to face.