Page 32 of Loving Jake

Henrietta leaned over and patted him on the arm. “My goodness, no, dear. Never. I loved each one of those children from the time I first held them in my arms. They were my babies from the moment I laid my eyes on them.”

He held a glass of bourbon he had ordered when he first boarded the plane. He felt his hand shake, and the glass rattled against the tray table. Adoption? He repeated the word over and over in his head. Brenda had scorned the idea, but Kimberly? God, yes. Loving, caring, Kimberly, would have jumped at the idea. What had he done? How could he have not thought of this during all the sleepless nights he spent wishing she was in his arms? And was it too late? Six months was a long time to be able to forget someone. Perhaps Kimberly had already done just that.

“Why, I’m on my way to Peru to visit my daughter Caroline now. Her husband is a diplomat and has been stationed in Lima for some time now. She’s invited me to stay permanently, but I couldn’t do that to my youngest one, Ann, why?—"

Henrietta’s voice droned on and on, but Jake was no longer listening. Instead, he heard other voices that echoed through his head.

“I love you, Jake.”

“Kim, I don’t love you.”

“I’ve loved you forever.”

“I don’t want an ‘us’ with anyone.”

“I only need you, Jake.”

“I don’t want the family thing anymore.”

“I would do anything for you, Jake.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Goodbye.”

My God, I’ve been such a fool! “Excuse me, Miss, excuse me?”

“We’re still looking for those magazines, Mr. Taylor. Can I get you something else in the meantime?”

“No, you don’t understand.” He undid his seat belt and stood up. “I have to get off this plane.” His eyes darted toward the exit door and then to the overhead compartment where he stowed his duffle bag.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Taylor, but that’s not possible. We just pushed away from the jet bridge. You’ll have to return to your seat,” she instructed with a perfunctory smile.

“There has to be a way. I have to get off this plane!” And on to another one going to San Francisco. Going to Kimberly.

“I’m sorry Mr. Taylor, but if you’ll look out the window, we are approaching the runway. You need to sit down.”

“I, I didn’t notice.” Jake returned to his seat. He buckled his seat belt over his waist and shook his head in defeat. He would be in Lima in less than five hours. He would just have to wait it out. He would call Kimberly when they landed, and hopefully, if she agreed, she would be waiting for him at the San Francisco airport in another twenty-four hours. Only one more lonely night spent fighting off the erotic images of Kimberly wrapped tightly in his embrace until he actually held her again. What was one more night, he conceded, when heonce believed he had been sentenced to an eternity without her?

Jake sighed deeply, temporarily resigned to his fate. He turned to Henrietta and offered her an apologetic smile for his previous interruption of her story. “Excuse me, Henrietta, may I call you Henrietta? Would you like to show me the rest of your photo album?”

The elderly woman beamed with pleasure and delightedly informed Jake that she had three more photo albums in her bag. Certainly, enough pictures, she assured him, to keep them entertained for the entire flight.

Jake threwhis knapsack over his shoulder. His eyes darted around the small, congested airport for a charging station. He swore swiftly under his breath once he recalled that South American countries didn’t offer many of the amenities he took for granted in the United States. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten to charge his cell, and now it was dead. As he looked across the terminal for a wall outlet, he saw Henrietta’s family circle around the elderly woman. Each member took turns showering her with hugs. He smiled at the tender sight. If the old woman only knew how much she had helped him realize that he and Kimberly had a real chance at love, she’d probably add their photos to her album. “Jake! Jake! Over here,” a deep male voice called over numerous heads.

Jake turned to see several cameramen and another journalist he had worked with the last time he was in Peru. He picked up his carry-on bag and walked over to the men. He had learned to travel light a long time ago. His luggage consisted of a carry-on bag and a small knapsack. “Well, this is some welcome. I certainly didn’t expect this big of a reception.” Normally, he metup with the rest of the crew at their hotel after he had checked in and secured his luggage in his room.

“Jake, we’ve been waiting for you since four o’clock. Your plane was due in over two hours ago,” said Tom, a small, wiry man with a dark beard and a large video camera propped up at his side.

“We had to avoid some severe weather, which took us out of our way,” Jake responded to the cameraman. “What gives, anyway? Why are you guys here?” He was anxious to call Kimberly and, with any luck, be on the next plane back to San Francisco.

“Three Catholic priests were found slain this afternoon outside of Lima. The whole country is in chaos. The Shining Path is refusing to claim responsibility and, instead, is blaming the government, and the government is blaming the Shining Path. People are filling the streets in protest. It’s a mess out there. Jake, we’ve got to get out of Lima and to where the priests were found before nightfall. The President is planning to place a curfew on the city. The military is everywhere. We won’t be able to get near the site until daybreak if that happens,” explained Luke, a thickly built, scruffy man and one of the Associated Press’s leading journalists.

“Damn.” He looked at each of the men. “Where’s Stevens?” he asked, referring to the other news journalist his network had sent to Peru months ago to cover the story while Jake was on a leave of absence.

“Stevens is down with some bug, caught it while we followed some guerillas rumored to have defected from the Shining Path. Conditions were pretty rough near the river. We think he may have caught something from a bug bite.”

“Most likely from one of the local female bugs,” Tom muttered, and his companions each responded with a chuckle under their breaths.

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