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my mother. I think if I were to be honest,” Candace closed her eyes in
an effort to compose herself. She felt Jameson’s hand on top of hers and took a
deep breath. “If I were to be honest; she may not have given birth to me, but
she really is the only mother I have ever
known.”
    Jameson
listened attentively. She could feel the emotional burst emanating from
Candace. The declaration did not surprise her. Jameson had spent enough time
with Pearl to have gained an understanding of the unique relationship she
shared with Senator Candace Fletcher. She was certain that there were a great
many details about both women that she had yet to learn. Jameson tightened her
grip on Candace’s hand gently as the senator continued.
    “My
mother was a debutante in every sense of that word. She’s eighty, and she still thinks she is a sixteen-year-old at some ball,” Candace said
with a chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong; she is my mother. I love her, but Pearl
is…”
    “I
think I understand,” Jameson interjected. Candace looked at Jameson hopefully.
Jameson was sure she could detect a
moniker of both guilt and fear in the older woman’s eyes. She could not remove
her gaze from Candace. She felt her thumb begin to stroke Candace’s hand in
reassurance. She was positive she noticed
a slight hitch in the senator’s breathing. “I don’t think biology defines
family,” Jameson said. “It certainly doesn’t define love.”
    “No,
it doesn’t,” Candace replied in a whisper. She stayed locked in Jameson’s gaze
for a moment. Candace’s head felt the urge pull away, but her heart desperately
wanted to move closer to the architect. She smiled weakly and pulled her hand
away to retrieve their plates. “I should pick this up,” she said.
    Jameson
closed her eyes. She was positive that Candace had felt the gravity of the
connection between them. She wasn’t at all certain how to bridge the gap that
she was afraid may have just widened. Composing herself, she made her way to
the sink to help. “Let me help,” she offered. Candace nodded with an
appreciative smile. Jameson began to assist in cleaning up from their dinner.
They worked silently but efficiently in tandem. Jameson was surprised as the
last container was thrown away that she
felt content in their continued silent companionship. She closed her computer
and stowed it in its bag. “I should let
you get some rest,” Jameson said a bit reluctantly.
    Candace
nodded her affirmation. She walked with Jameson to the front door. “What are
your plans for Thanksgiving?” Candace asked curiously. “All this talk about my
house and my family; I haven’t even asked you.”
    “Same
as every year,” Jameson answered. “I’ll head down to my folks’ for the
weekend.” She was surprised to detect a hint of disappointment in the senator’s
eyes. “You?” she asked.
    “Oh,
well, Michelle and Jonah will be here tomorrow night,” Candace explained.
“Spencer, my grandson, he’s still small so Marianne won’t come up this year.
I’ll see them in Texas next month.”
    “How
old is he?”
    “Six
months,” Candace beamed.
    Jameson
smiled. “Nothing quite like a baby; is there?”
    “Not really , but I did my time in that realm.
I’m happy to be Nana and not Mom this round.”
    “I
think I can understand that.”
    “Travel
safely,” Candace said.
    “You
worried about me; Senator Fletcher?”
    Candace
was surprised at the answer that flew from her lips. “Let’s just say I would
like to see you again.”
    Jameson
instinctively knew the required response. She leaned in and placed a chaste
kiss on Candace’s cheek. “I will be sure to obey all the rules of the road,”
she promised. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
    Candace
just nodded as Jameson walked to her car. She watched Jameson pull away and
closed the door slowly, feeling an unexplainable sense of loss. “Wine,” she
mumbled. “I think I’ll have another glass of wine.”

Chapter Five: Give