Chapter 2.2

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It was no surprise to discover that Jane's decoration was as vivid and unconventional as she was. An almost dizzying array of fabrics and colors clashed and competed with a number of objects Jane had collected. His gaze slid from a six-inch plastic Statue of Liberty to a porcelain figurine of Marilyn Monroe, then paused for a moment on one of the dozens of framed photographs in the room. This one showed Jane snuggled up to a man who looked suspiciously like a famous television comedian. Next to it was a shot of Kane with an Academy Award-winning actress.

There were others, but he didn't take time to study them all. Nor would he allow himself to be impressed. After all, Jane's New York acting career has lasted less than ten years, and now she was teaching drama at a local high school. Like him, Jane has ended up right back where she started.

He wondered if her return had been any happier than his own.

Without bothering to ask if he wanted anything, Jane poured bottled water over two glasses of ice and pressed one into his hand. She drank half of her own without pausing for air, then set the glass on the counter, her full, unpainted lips glistening with drips of moisture. "Before you launch into the speech I'm sure you've carefully prepared, I just want to say that there's really no need. I happened to be close by when your son fell into the pool this afternoon and I jumped in to pull him out. Anyone else would have done the same thing."

"But no one else did," he replied. "You saved Tom's life, Jane. There's no way for me to adequately express my gratitude."

"Let's just stick with 'thank you' and 'you're welcome,' shall we?"

His lips twitched, though he was trying not to smile. This was too important. "Thank you."

She nodded briskly. "You're welcome."
"It isn't enough, you know. Not for what you did."

She shrugged. "I'm just glad I was there."

"So am I," he agreed, his tone heartfelt.

She picked up her glass. "Let's take these into the living room."

One again, he had to follow or be left behind. He took a sip of his water, the. Left the full glass on the counter as he trailed her into the other room. "Jane..."

She kicked off her shoes and curled up on her jewel-toned striped couch, waving him into a nearby chair. "Your kids are adorable, Tyler."

"Thank you." He wasn't sure what else to say. He had expressed his gratitude —at least, as much as she allowed him to—which was all he'd intended to do. He hadn't planned on an extended visit. After all, despite a couple of memorable past encounters, he and Jane Doherty were basically strangers.

"How old are they?"

"Tom turned five last month. Amy's fourteen months."

"I heard that your wife died last year. I'm sorry."

He had no intention of talking about his late wife. He merely nodded in response to her expression of sympathy.

"Are you a good father?"

She asked the question completely seriously, as if he should be able to easily reply with a simple yes or no. Even when they were kids, he'd never known quite how to respond to many of the things Jane said. "I do my best."

"Your nanny—"

"I fired her this evening."

Jane blinked. "You fired her?"

"She almost let my son drown. She told me herself that she never saw him go in the water. She knew he couldn't swim."

"She was playing with Amy. She seemed very fond of her."

"Yes, she was good with Amy," He conceded. "But she didn't bond well with Tom. Because she communicate well with him, she tended to ignore him. I have two kids. I need someone who will look after both of them while I'm working."

Jane studied his face a moment. "You always were a bit intolerant of other people's failings."

"When it comes to my children's safety, I will always demand perfection," he answered flatly, oddly stung by her criticism.

"Of course."

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