“I did?”
“When-a you say you not coming to Jackson Hole, I think…how’s-a S going to take that? Then she take it, and I think…maybe she don’t want to be in charge of everything. So, I be a little rough with her, see what she say.” He kissed his fingers and opened them in celebration, grinning at Jane. “Sure enough. The tigress just a kitten under all-a the yelling. Except when I want the claws.”
She held up her palm. “Got it. Good, um, good for you two. Got it.”
She turned to face front in her seat. When she looked back again, Franco’s eyes were closed, and he rested his head on Sara’s.
Jane glanced at Mr. Lindstrom, at the father of the man she loved. She didn’t know what to say. Surely, he knew what had happened between them. Surely his words for her would be as bruising as Maggie’s. He had a right to them.
“Mr. Lindstrom?” she started in a small voice.
He glanced at her.
“I just want you to know that I love him.”
“Saw you together on Saturday and again yesterday. I believe you.”
“Do you think he’ll wait for me?”
“He’s a man, Jane. Waiting’s not our strong suit. But, if I know my Midten, he’ll try like hell to hold on.”
Mr. Lindstrom adjusted and readjusted his hands on the steering wheel, as if he had something on his mind, then he turned to Jane.
“You know what the saddest word in the world is, Jane? In the whole world?”
Jane shook her head.
“Regret.”
“Regret,” she whispered.
“Saddest word there is. Try to live without regrets, girl.”
Regret. Jane thought back to the last time she made this ride to the airport last Tuesday. They had danced together and spent the night before holding each other, and she had broken things off the next morning on the way to the airport.
She had wasted Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and some of Friday missing him, wondering about him, falling in love with him. She had wasted time instead of making the most of every minute she could have had with him. She regretted it.
And suddenly, she wished she could turn back the clock and have those days back, have those nights back, spend those nights wrapped in his arms, touching his face, loving him.
Today is Monday, and you’re leaving him today. Next Monday you’ll be sitting in a cab or on the bus in the middle of midtown traffic, and you’ll ask yourself: Why did I leave him? Why did I let him go? Why did I waste time flying back to New York when my heart was beating in Montana?
The saddest word in the world is regret.
She thought of Maggie’s Aunt Lily. Of Maggie’s words from earlier: When the man you want, wants you back, you don’t leave him behind.
Because if you do, you will regret it…maybe for the rest of your life.
All morning she had heard the words in her head: You’re making a mistake. You’re making a mistake. And then she knew—it was true. Jane’s decision to leave Sara’s employ had been the right decision, because it was about self-respect. Her decision to take photos of Yellowstone, perfect her craft, and start a new profession had been the right decision, because it was about nurturing her gifts. Her decision to stay with Lars had been the right decision, because it was about love. The only bad decision she had made, for all the wrong reasons—obligation, fear, pressure, loneliness—was to go back to New York.
She looked down at her lap, feeling the quickening of her resolve until her decision was made, and this time, it was in stone. It was final.
Jane was staying in Montana.
She would have to call her uncle and tell him. He might hang up on her. He might try to strong-arm her into going back. Certainly Sara, who had to be behind her father’s directive, would raise hell. And she might lose them for a while. Maybe even forever. But something wasn’t better than nothing, after all. And something like life she knew with the Mayses certainly couldn’t hold a candle to the potential of a life with Lars.
Jane turned to Mr. Lindstrom, her heart lighter and more resolved than it had ever been in her life.
“Mr. Lindstrom?”
He turned to her; eyebrows raised.
“After my cousin gets on that plane without me, I’m going to need a ride home, if that’s okay.”
He smiled at her, his tan, wrinkled face crinkling with pleasure.
“Well, Jane. Can’t think of anything I’d rather do than get you there.”
***
Mr. Lindstrom offered to handle the baggage check-in and Franco went to find some herbal tea for Sara. When she protested that she’d prefer a latte, he put his hands on her hips and lowered his mouth to hers, hard at first and then softer, until she seemed more pliant in his arms.
“Franco don’t-a like the caffeine for you before we go flying, S. The tea be better for you.”
Sara had smiled at him and nodded. Jane still felt stunned by the change in Sara, but also fascinated that what it took to tame Samara Amaya was something no one, including her parents, had ever tried: a firm hand. Franco didn’t seem to care that she was beautiful. And what was it Sara had said? She felt safe with Franco in charge. Safe. Hmm.
Sara started into the terminal after him, but Jane grabbed her arm and pulled her over to a bench under an awning on the sidewalk near the SkyCab, pulling her cousin down beside her.
“Jane, what are you doing? We have to check in.”
“Remember what you said before at the cottage? About how Franco makes you feel safe?”
“Yeah. So, what?”
“You’ve never felt safe…not since you were nine. Not since your uncle and aunt died and your cousin moved in with you, and your whole life changed.”
Sara’s face clouded over, hardened. “And?”
“Your whole world changed. So did mine. But everyone felt sorry for me, focused on me. No one felt sorry for you.” She paused for a second, trying to connect with the human being behind her cousin’s fucked up façade. “You didn’t always hate me, Sara, did you? Do you remember that one night? That night you held me? You crawled into bed with me and held me?”
“I don’t have time for this.” Sara’s eyes flashed and she started to get up, but Jane grabbed her arm, making her stay.
“Do you remember when you got in bed with me? Do you remember that night?”
“You’re being tedious.”
“Just tell me if you remember!”
“Yes! Yes, okay? Yes, I remember! You cried every night. You were so fucking sad. You were reaching for someone and I was the only one there. Yes, I remember. Are you happy now?”
“You loved me, Sara.” Jane winced, holding back tears. “We loved each other. We did. Why do you hate me so much now?”
“I don’t hate you, stupid! It was never about you. I only ever wanted him. I didn’t want to share him, Jane. You needed so much. Too much. He wasn’t your father! He was mine! But I lost him.”
“I didn’t have anyone else.”
“Which made me a bad person for resenting you. Selfish, unhappy Sara who should be grateful for what she has, and is a terrible person because she isn’t. She’s beautiful and her parents are alive and well. And it’s true…my dad didn’t die. But I still lost him. I still lost him, Jane, every bit as much as you lost yours.” Sara swiped at her eyes angrily. “I just wanted my family back to the way it was, but I wasn’t allowed to be sad because you had the market on sad. And I wasn’t allowed to resent you, because you were an orphan. But I became an orphan too. Just in a different way. Sara took a deep breath then breathed out in a hiss, fanning her eyes to keep from crying. “Goddamn it, Jane. You are the trial of my life.”