The
Jade Emperor
By
Suzanne Jenkins
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Fiction
A marriage of
nearly half a century faces its greatest challenge when a stranger arrives,
bearing life changing news. Although Steve and Kelly Boyd live together, they
barely tolerate each other. Marrying in their teens and quickly becoming
parents, the separation due to the war in Vietnam forms the foundation for the
next forty-five precarious years.
Filling the
empty marriage with the companionship of her twin sister, Karen, and the family
she made with Steve, Kelly’s life revolves around her six adult children.
The stranger’s
sudden appearance clarifies so much about Steve’s lifetime behavior to Kelly.
Heartfelt
conversations at the local coffee shop where son Reggie works as a barista,
help the family resolve differences, build new relationships, and grow in
acceptance of one another.
At the end, love
outweighs everything.
Before night fall, Kelly Boyd’s life revolved
around her marriage and children. After sundown that same day, many of the
things she’d based her life on would no longer exist.
In Michigan, autumn meant apple cider and
donuts; pumpkins piled high at every market, the pungent smells of campfires in
backyard fire pits, and hay bales stacked decoratively on suburban porches
instead of in horse and sheep troughs. Loving fall the best out of all the
seasons, Kelly hoped to spend part of the upcoming weekend visiting a local
cider mill with her children and grandchildren, initiating the onset of autumn.
No one questioned what the weekends would bring; Kelly had something planned
for each one far in advance. Looking forward to it all week, the excitement and
anticipation made the stress of her job recede. Kelly didn’t need vacations;
cruises and trips to exotic places held no interest for her because her family
provided all she needed in life.
Simmering away in the back of her subconscious
was a seed of non-specific unease that grew and festered if she gave it too
much of her attention. A common occurrence for her, she thought it was simply
women’s intuition instigating worry with no foundation. Sticking rigorously to
her schedule no matter what; her husband, Steve once joked that he could be
having a heart attack on the floor, and Kelly would finish whatever task she
was doing before she’d stop to call 911.
“That’s not even funny,” she replied the
first time he said it, frowning, but he wouldn’t relent.
The routine had become essential for her
wellbeing. After a week of grueling hospital work as a nurse, Kelly spent each
Friday night cleaning house so the weekend would be free. Dinner long over,
she’d talk on the phone to her sister with reruns of Hoarders on the television
as background noise while she cleaned. Steve, her husband of over forty years,
sequestered in his basement man-cave watching sporting events on a ninety-inch
flat screen, was oblivious to whatever Kelly was up to until he heard the
vacuum running.
On this particular Friday, the weather was
warm; the last days of Indian summer in progress, and in honor of it she’d left
the front door open, locking the storm door. While mopping the wood floors that
covered the dining room and front hallway, she heard a car pull up in front of
the house.
“Hold on for a minute,” she told her sister,
holding on to the phone.
Going to the door, she looked out at a Yellow
Cab that had stopped directly in front of their house. A tall, thin, man got
out of the back, and leaned through the window to chat with the driver. Kelly
saw him reach into his pocket to retrieve paper money, watching as he counted
out bills, handing them through the window. The driver drove off, and it wasn’t
until then that Kelly realized the man was headed to her house.
“Beaver, come,” she called to the dog in a
low voice.
Their shepherd - boxer mix obediently came to
her side and gave a low growl as he watched the man walk up the steps. Wishing
the TV wasn’t on so loud; if she needed to yell for Steve, he’d never hear her.
Standing with the mop handle in her hand, the young man came up the steps,
smiling. Attractive, clean cut, and possibly Asian, she thought if he’s going
to attack me, he’d bust through the door right away, but the dog would get him.
“Hi, I’m sorry to show up at this hour. Is
Augustus Boyd here?” he said loud enough to be heard through the glass.
It was uncommon for someone to come to their
house late, and never for her husband. Kelly hesitated, wondering if she should
at least ask his name, or why he wanted to speak to Steve, but decided against
it; she’d let Steve handle it.
“I’ll get him. Wait here just a moment.”
The young man nodded his head, and Kelly, on
a whim, shut the big door and locked it, putting her mop handle against the
wall, moving quickly to the basement landing. She opened the door and ran down
the steps. Steve looked up when she entered his den.
“What’s up?”
“There’s a man at the door asking for
Augustus.”
“Did he give a name?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I was standing there
like an ass with the door wide open cleaning when the cab let him out, and all
I thought of was how quickly I could get the door shut without offending him.”
Steve got out of his recliner and followed
her up the stairs.
“Who’d come here in a cab?” he said, his lips
set in a line.
“I have no idea.” Kelly stepped aside so
Steve could get to the door.
Opening it, the young man looked at Steve,
smiling. They watched each other, looking into each other’s eyes.
“Can I help you?” Steve asked, his heart
pounding, the unfamiliar intrusion upsetting.
Not a deep thinker, something told Steve this
man would alter the course of his life.
“Can I talk to you in private?” the young man
asked, looking around Steve’s shoulder at Kelly.
Steve looked at her, too and shrugged his
shoulders. He unlocked the storm door.
“Sure,” he said, stepping out onto the porch,
closing the door behind him.
Kelly wondered what could be so important, or
so private that the man couldn’t talk about it in front of her. Picking up the
phone, she spoke, but her sister had hung up. Calling her back, for the next
ten minutes, they speculated about who it might be.
“I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going
on,” she said before hanging up.
Walking to their bedroom, she grabbed the
linen hamper, circling through the rooms on that floor to grab what needed
washing, taking it to the basement. Nothing, not even a mysterious stranger
could disrupt her routine. Moving clothes from the washer to the dryer, she
then fed more dirty clothes into the washer. If she timed it right, she‘d have
all their laundry done by midnight.
Life had become regimented for Kelly and
therefore tolerable; grocery store after work at the beginning of the week,
housework on Friday, visiting on Saturday, outings on Sunday. Monday she’d
start all over again, cooking for the week, visiting her children when she
could in the afternoon, often lingering over their kitchen tables long after
she should’ve been home. Getting things done, being organized; that was what
mattered to her. Having every area of her life under control was what brought
her anxiety-ridden thoughts into submission.
Their six children lived locally. Augie, Jr.,
twins Ben and Lisa, Ken, Reggie, and Alice. Two were married with children of
their own; they lived in houses and apartments spread around town. Proud of her
children, she and Steve had worked hard to educate them, and they were all
employed in some form.
Running up the stairs with a basket full of
folded laundry, she yelped when she opened the door, Steve standing in the
kitchen surprising her.
“You scared me. Who was it?” she asked,
taking the laundry back to their bedroom.
Not answering, he followed her.
“I’m going to drive him to his hotel so he
doesn’t have to wait for a cab,” he said, picking up his wallet and money clip
off the dresser.
“Who is he?” she asked again, making his and
hers piles on their bed.
He didn’t answer again, and Kelly turned to
look at him.
“Steve, who is it?”
“The son of a friend,” he said. “I’ll be gone
about an hour. Do you want anything while I’m out?”
It was so odd, him leaving like that on a
Friday night; she was concerned only from the standpoint that he’d be safe and
nothing else. She didn’t distrust him, certainly. There was no reason not to
trust him.
“No, I can’t think of anything. Are you
okay?”
Taking a moment to really look at him, he was
as white as a sheet. “What’s going on?”
He went to her, took her by the shoulders,
kissing her forehead, so out of character; she knew something was terribly
wrong. Steve hadn’t kissed her in months.
“I’ll get the full story from him on our way
into town. I’ll have my cell phone if you decide you need anything.”
She thought, what would I need?
“Hurry back,” she said, concerned.
Trying to think what friend had a son who’d
show up on a doorstep at ten at night, no one came to mind. Steve was a
pipefitter, and the shop where he worked had almost a zero turnover. When he
retired in one more year, it would be the first opening they’d have in almost
fifteen years. She knew everyone he worked with, and his friend-pool, although
she could hardly say they were friends, was made up of other pipe-fitters.
They’d all worked together since they were kids. Could it be a son of someone
from work? She picked up the phone, wanting to speculate with her sister. It
was almost eleven, but she knew Karen would still be up, running the vacuum.
“What did the man look like?” Karen asked.
“He might have been Hispanic or Asian,” Kelly
said. “Foreign. Tall. Black hair, high cheek bones, almond eyes. I couldn’t
really tell because the light is dim on the porch and it was late. Anyway, like
no one I know. Maybe late thirties.”
“Well, you’d better text me the minute he
comes back because now I won’t sleep. I’m getting ready to take my shot so you
know I’ll be up for a while.”
Kelly laughed heartily. Karen had a shot of
vodka nightly, and Kelly’s concern for her sister’s liver was a running
dialogue.
“Your husband will drink a six pack tonight.
How good can that be for his liver?” Karen said. “Pour another glass of wine.
You deserve it.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” she said, going to
the fridge. “I’m going to do it right now.” She took the bottle out and poured
a healthy glass of wine. “Okay, I’m all set. Thank you for listening.”
“Don’t forget to text me,” Karen said.
“I won’t. It might be late. He said an hour
but who knows,” Kelly said.
She’d polish the furniture while drinking the
wine.
“I’ll talk to you later,” she said.
Suzanne writes
page-turning contemporary romance, mystery, and women's fiction with
passionately gripping characters that stay with readers long after they turn
the last page. The Detroit Detective Stories, beginning with The Greeks of
Beaubien Street are a reflection of American fantasy with historical reality.
Pam of Babylon books consistently rank in the Top 100 Best Sellers in American
Drama with over 500,000 downloads. A retired operating room nurse, Jenkins
lives in Southern California.
Thank you so much for your beautiful post! Love smut! xo
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