The Soulmate Equation
: Chapter 16

THANKS TO A friend of a friend of a friend, Jess met with a potential new client on Tuesday. She didn’t really have room in her schedule for anyone new—who knew fake dating would be such a time suck?—but the gravy train would be over when GeneticAlly went public in May, and Jess didn’t intend to be caught with her proverbial pants down when it happened.

Kenneth Marshall ran a small engineering firm in Wyoming and was in town to see clients of his own. They agreed to meet for lunch at his hotel, which had the added bonus of overlooking the convention center and the San Diego Bay. Unfortunately, it also had views of Shelter Island and the Grubers’ high-rise condo, which meant that it took monumental effort for Jess to focus on the conversation about probability study and regression analysis and not the searing kiss from the cocktail party.

How did someone learn to kiss like that? Did River take a class? Watch YouTube videos, like when Jess learned how to fix the toilet fill valve? She’d lain in bed last night thinking about his mouth and the urging press of his fingers to her jaw, about the sobering reality that Jess had had actual sex that left her less satisfied than River’s kiss.

Sex with River might actually end her.

She was all too happy when the meeting with Kenneth wrapped up, and even happier when he offered a deposit to hold his place on her schedule until late spring. But instead of immediately heading toward the valet, she walked out to the back patio of the hotel to take in the view. Seagulls soared overhead and waves gently rocked the boats docked at the marina. Snapping a photo, she sent a quick text to Fizzy, who was in LA meeting with her agent.

Jess had lived in California her entire life but rarely made it to the ocean. It seemed like too much preparation—the sand, the crowds, replaceing parking—but once she was there, she’d invariably wonder why she didn’t do it more often.

Kind of like sex.

Jess thought of the kiss again, the way River had angled his head to capture her mouth more deeply, how he’d held his breath, then let out a shaking exhale when they pulled apart. She wondered whether it would have been hard to stop if they’d been alone. She wondered whether he fucked like he kissed.

Her phone rang in her hand, startling her. She expected to see Fizzy’s face filling the screen, but instead there were three words: SCRIPPS MERCY HOSPITAL.

“Hello?” Jess said in a rush, eyes raking over the horizon as her heart began to thump Juno, Juno, Juno against her breastbone.

“May I speak to Jessica Davis?” a woman asked. In the background, Jess heard voices, an elevator ding, phones ringing, and the distant murmur of an intercom.

“This is Jessica.” Her pulse pounded her daughter’s name.

“This is Scripps Mercy Hospital. We have a Joanne Davis here. Your grandfather, Ronald, is asking for you. Please come as soon as possible.”

JESS DIDN’T REMEMBER the wait at the valet or the drive to the hospital, the walk from the parking lot or talking to anyone at the front desk, but she would never forget the sight of Nana in the hospital bed. Jess stood rooted in the doorway, motionless as machines hummed and beeped around Nana, and Pops hovered at his wife’s side, holding her hand. Both of Nana’s legs were immobilized and strapped to a splint. There was an IV in her left arm. The smell of antiseptic burned Jess’s nose. A nurse scooted past her into the hallway, and she managed to step into the room.

“Nana?”

Pops turned to face her; every ounce of Nana’s pain was mirrored in his expression. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“I’m here,” Jess said, crossing the room to wrap an arm around him. “What happened?”

“She fell.”

“I’m fine,” Nana said through a shaky breath. “Just lost my footing.”

Pops squeezed her hand, eyes trained on her face. Jess’s grandfather had always been the strongest, steadiest person she knew. But right now, he looked like a slight wind might knock him down. “They think it’s a fractured femur,” he said, “but we’re waiting for the doctor. We were bowling at that new place in Kearny Mesa and she slipped.” He put a hand over his mouth. “They took the X-rays twenty minutes ago, but nobody will goddamn tell me—”

Nana winced and, if possible, Pops’s face went even paler.

“Okay, okay,” Jess said, guiding him away from the bed and to a chair. “Let’s have you sit down, and I’ll see what’s happening. Have they given her anything for pain?”

His fingers trembled as he pushed them through his thin, fluffy hair. “I think in the IV.”

“I’ll be right back,” Jess said, and leaned in so Nana could see her. “Nana Jo, I’ll be right back.”

Jess stopped the first nurse she saw in the hallway. “Excuse me, I was just in room 213. Can you tell me what’s happening with Joanne Davis?”

“You’re family?”

“I’m her granddaughter, yes.”

“We’ve given her some pain meds and are expecting her X-ray results any second.” The nurse pointed to a woman in blue scrubs striding down the hall toward them. “Dr. Reynolds is coming. She’ll talk you through it.”

Dr. Reynolds returned with Jess to the room, where Pops had moved his chair over to the bed and resumed holding Nana’s hand. Sweat beaded her brow, and it was clear that she was in pain but working valiantly to hide it.

Dr. Reynolds greeted Nana and Pops, and a new nurse took Nana’s vitals. Clipping the X-ray film to a lighted board, the physician explained that Nana had a subtrochanteric fracture, between the two bony protrusions of the femur.

“We’ll have to operate,” she explained. “We’ll put in a rod that goes down here.” Dr. Reynolds drew along the image with her fingertip. “And a screw that goes up into your hip. Yours won’t be that long because your fracture is pretty high. It’ll probably go to about here.” She traced a finger over the X-ray where the metal rod would end. “And then you’ll have another rod that will go up through the fracture into your hip. This is stronger than your actual bone, so you’ll be able to walk and get up and move around pretty quickly. But no more bowling for at least eight weeks.”

“How long will she be here?” Pops asked.

“Let’s say five days if everything goes as planned and you’re able to work on mobility quickly. Possibly sooner.” Dr. Reynolds shrugged. “Or longer if there are complications or we have other concerns.”

Jess’s stomach dropped. She imagined Pops sleeping in the stiff hospital chair every night until Nana was discharged and knew he would be miserable. But she tried to imagine him at home while Nana was here, and that seemed even less likely. If he and Jess could take turns being with Nana, she might be able to convince him to eat, to rest, to take care of himself. Jess glanced at her watch, mentally rearranging deadlines and schedules and pickups.

Panic bubbled up: Juno was out of school in less than an hour.

The doctor left, and Nana’s eyes were heavy from sedation.

“Pops,” Jess whispered. “I need to make some calls, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, numb, and she excused herself to the hall. Her safety net had a hole in it: Fizzy was in LA. Nana and Pops were obviously indisposed. She scrolled through her contacts, feeling very, very alone. Pausing on her mom’s name, Jess sifted through every possible outcome. Jamie would be on time, but smoking. She’d be late, and Juno would be alone and worried. Jamie would be on time, not smoking, but would fill Juno’s head with weird criticisms and jabs. She’d be on time, not smoking, wouldn’t fill Juno’s head with garbage, but would replace the open bottle of wine in Jess’s fridge and figure why not.

Jess didn’t like any of the options. She dropped heavily into a chair.

Her phone rang in her hand, and she looked down to see River’s name.

Jess didn’t even think; she picked up after one ring, her voice breaking on his name. “River?”

“Hey. I…” A pause. “Is everything okay?”

She swiped at her eyes, chin trembling. “No.”

His tone went soft with concern. “What’s happening?”

“I’m at the hospital.” Her words came out strangled.

It sounded like he’d just stood up. “Oh, no.”

“Nana broke her hip, and I need someone to get Juno from school.” Jess swiped at her eyes again. “I know this wasn’t part of the bargain, but Fizzy is gone and my mom—”

“No, hey. Of course I’ll get her. Will they let me pick her up?”

“I can call and…” Tears spilled over, and Jess bent, pressing her face into her hand. “Oh my God, I had a call at four. And tomorrow—”

“Let’s make a list,” he cut in gently. Yes, a plan. Order. Her brain held on to the lifeline. “First things first: Call the school. I’ll text you a photo of my license with all my information so you can just read it off to them, okay?”

Call the school, let them know. “Okay.”

“Does she have anything after school on Tuesdays?”

Jess felt clearer, but slow. She imagined the calendar in the kitchen, the tiny little boxes with Juno’s hearts and bubbly handwriting. “She has ballet, but she can skip it. Can you bring her here? We’re at Scripps.”

“Jess, I can take her to ballet.”

Jess immediately shook her head; she’d already crossed too many boundaries. “No, it’s okay, I—”

“I promise, it’s not a problem, and I’m sure having her at the hospital won’t be easier on you.”

She went silent, unable to disagree.

“I’ve attended plenty of ballet recitals. Remember the meddling sisters?” he said. “I know what a plié is and everything.”

Letting out a soft sound, not a laugh, not a sob, Jess was too drained to argue. “They’ve never been apart,” she said. She needed someone else to know how much her grandparents loved each other. “Fifty-six years. I don’t know what Pops would do if something happened to her.”

“It’s going to be okay,” River said soothingly. Jess nodded. She needed to believe it, too.

SHE CALLED THE school and made arrangements for River to pick up Juno. He texted as soon as he had her, sending a photo of the two of them making silly faces, and then another of Juno safely buckled into the back seat of his shiny black Audi. Frankly, Juno looked delighted to be there. Jess could only imagine the harassment she would get to buy a new car, “like River Nicolas’s.”

Nana was wheeled into surgery a couple of hours later, and a nurse handed Pops a small pager that looked like the kind restaurants used.

“That’ll vibrate when we have news,” the nurse told them. “Bring it up to the desk and we’ll update you. If it doesn’t go off, there’s nothing new to tell you.”

Pops alternated between holding Jess’s hand in the waiting room and taking long walks around the building. His eyes were red-rimmed when he returned, his body heavy as he sank into the chair facing hers.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Not yet.” Jess leaned forward, taking his hands and pulling them into her lap. “Do you remember that time Nana bought us all gardening gloves and didn’t realize the ‘floral print’ was actually marijuana?”

“The way she kept insisting it was a Japanese maple.” His shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “And Junebug still pointing out ‘Nana’s favorite plant’ whenever she sees one on a T-shirt or a sign.”

The sound of familiar laughter carried down the hall, and Jess looked up in time to see River and Juno turning the corner into the waiting room. Juno was still dressed for ballet in her pale pink leotard and tights, but her favorite pink cowboy boots clomped across the linoleum floor. Her hair was pulled up in a lopsided bun, and she held on to River with one hand, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers in the other. The sight of their clasped hands yanked a breath from Jess’s throat.

“There’s my girl,” Pops said, eyes lighting up.

“We brought sandwiches!” Juno whisper-yelled, and Jess glanced up to River. He must have explained to her that this was a hospital, and sick people were trying to rest. Jess couldn’t imagine another scenario where Juno Merriam Davis didn’t burst into this room at full volume looking for her nana.

She handed Jess the flowers, pressed a kiss to her mom’s lips, and then climbed onto Pops’s lap.

Jess stood, taking the white paper bag River offered. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We figured the last thing on your mind would be dinner,” he said.

She smelled meatball subs, and her mouth watered. “Thank God, because I am famished.”

“How is she?”

“Yeah, how is Nana Jo?” Juno asked.

“She’s still in surgery,” Jess said. “They’re expecting her to be fine, we’re just waiting.” She handed Pops a sandwich and pointed with hers up at the hunk of male magic in front of them. “Pops, this is River Peña. River, this is my grandfather Ronald Davis.”

River reached to shake Pops’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard great things.”

“Likewise.” Pops returned the handshake, and Jess had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. “And thank you for taking care of our little Junebug here. It’s been quite an afternoon.”

“It was no problem,” River said. “Sometimes it’s fun to take a Muppet to ballet.”

Juno wiggled wildly on Pops’s lap, sticking her fingers in her ears, screwing up her face.

“There she is,” River said fondly.

Juno came to an abrupt stop, seeming to remember something. “Will Nana have her scooter again?”

“I’m not sure,” Pops told her. “We better get my steel-toed boots out of storage just in case.”

The pager went off in Jess’s lap: the disk illuminated with red lights, vibrating across her thigh. Pops stood abruptly, depositing Juno in his seat before he picked up the pager and hustled to the nurses’ station.

“She must be out of surgery,” Jess said, watching him.

“I’m going to let you get to it, then.” River glanced at Juno. “Thank you for spending the afternoon with me, Juno Merriam. It’s been a long time since I went to a ballet class.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “You can come again if you want.”

“Well, maybe I will.” He smiled, turning to Jess. “Call me if you need anything else?”

“I will.” Words she wanted to say tangled up in her chest in an emotional clog. Gratitude and lust and fear and longing. She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted to stand, slide her arms around his waist under his jacket, and whisper her thanks into the warmth of his neck. But instead, she simply said, “Thank you, River.”

NANA CAME THROUGH surgery with flying colors. She was wheeled into recovery, and while Pops was able to have some time with her, Jess and Juno had a little picnic with sandwiches, fruit, and cookies in the family waiting room.

“How was your afternoon with Dr. Peña?”

“I call him River Nicolas, and he calls me Juno Merriam,” she corrected around a mouthful of mandarin orange. “We went to ballet class and he met Ms. Mia, and he was going to wait in the parents’ room, but I asked Ms. Mia if he could watch us practice our recital. He sat on the floor by the mirror and watched us, Mom. He saw how good we were.”

“I bet he was impressed.” Jess’s chest pinched tightly at the image of six-foot-four-inch River sitting cross-legged on the floor of the dance studio.

“Then we got a pretzel and some flowers, but he thought you guys might be hungry, so we got sandwiches, too.” She munched on her orange and then looked up at Jess with wide blue eyes. “Did you know, I told him that you don’t like raw onions and he said he doesn’t like raw onions, either?”

“I didn’t know that, but it was very nice of you guys to bring us dinner.” She ran her hand through Juno’s coppery hair.

“Now is he your boyfriend?” Juno met her eyes and then looked away in a rare display of shyness. “Because today he picked me up at school sort of like a daddy would.”

“Oh.” A sharp ache pressed up from Jess’s stomach to her breastbone. “Well, we’re friends. So, when I needed help picking you up, he offered to help me like friends do.”

Juno looked disappointed. “Oh.”

“But I’m really glad you like him.” Jess leaned forward, kissing her daughter’s forehead. “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

“I’m not tired,” Juno claimed through a yawn. “But I bet Pigeon is wondering where we are.”

Jess smiled as they cleaned up their food, watching Juno grow droopier with every passing second. She thought she was a big kid, but as soon as eight o’clock came around, exhaustion rolled over her like an offshore drift. With Nana asleep, they said goodbye to Pops. Jess made him promise to get some sleep, too, and promised him that she’d be back in the morning. She lifted Juno, and wiped-out little arms made their way around Jess’s neck, her legs around Jess’s waist.

The elevator doors opened to the ground floor, and Jess stepped out, stopping in her tracks when she saw River perched in a chair near the exit. Approaching him, Jess balanced Juno in her arms. “River, oh my God, you’re still here?”

He looked up from his phone and abruptly stood. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Jess laughed uncomfortably. Guilt oozed through her. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to stay.”

He looked sheepish and sleepy. Jess wasn’t sure why, but it made her want to cry. “I wanted to see how she was,” he said. “Your grandmother.”

“She’s a champ. Everything went fine.” Jess smiled. “She’s sleeping now, but I’m sure she’ll start hassling them to let her go tomorrow.”

“Good.” He tucked his phone in his pocket and glanced at Juno, asleep like a sack of potatoes over her shoulder. “I also wanted to thank you for trusting me today.” He leaned to the side, confirming that Juno was out. “She mentioned something in the car to me about Krista and Naomi?”

“Those are her two best friends at school.”

He clicked his tongue, wincing a little. “I think maybe she had a rough day. We talked it out a bit, but sounds like they weren’t being super nice to her at lunch. Just wanted to let you know.”

Jess’s heart twisted. Her sunshine girl rarely spoke about school; it must have been rough if she mentioned it. “I’ll ask her about it. Thank you. You’re amazing.”

“She’s amazing, Jess. You’re doing a great job.”

She had to swallow twice before she could get the words out. “Thank you for saying that.” Pride warmed her from the inside out. Juno was an amazing kid, proof that Jess was a good mom—most of the time. It hadn’t been easy, but they were doing it. His compliment loosened something in her, though, and Jess was suddenly exhausted, too.

“Can I walk you to your car?”

She nodded and they turned, passing through the automatic doors and out into the humid, cool night. At her car, Jess fumbled in her purse for the keys.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked, laughing like he felt useless.

“Nah. You should have seen me when she was younger. A car seat, diaper bag, stroller, and groceries. I’d make an excellent octopus.” Remote in hand, she unlocked the car.

“I’m beginning to see that.”

River opened the back door and she bent to carefully deposit a floppy Juno into the seat, buckling her in. When she straightened, closing the door, he was still there. The sky was dark; the parking lot had mostly emptied out. Crickets chirped from a nearby bush. Jess wondered if he was going to kiss her. The ache for him seemed to expand inside her like a star.

“Thank you again,” she said.

The moment stretched and then he was leaning in, diverting slightly to the left at the very last second so that his lips pressed to the corner of her mouth. It would have been so easy for her to turn her head slightly one way or the other, and they both knew it. She could have made it more intimate, or she could have refused him. Instead, she kept them there in this weird limbo, feeling his lips so close to hers, his breath fanning warm across her skin. She was equal parts caution and lust. She needed to protect her little family; she wanted his mouth open, the heat of him. She needed proof that this wasn’t all fake; she wanted his hands shoving her clothes away.

She was being a coward.

He straightened and gave her one last, lingering smile. “Night, Jess.”

Before he could turn away, she caught his fingers with hers. “River. Hey.”

He frowned down at her, waiting, but the longer she stood there looking up at him, the more his expression transitioned from concern to understanding. Finally, he turned his hand over in hers, threading their fingers together. “You okay?”

She nodded, swallowing down the tangle of angst in her throat. Pressing her hand to his chest, she stretched, and he stood carefully still as she brushed her mouth over his. When she stepped away, he stared down at her with the same unreadable restraint. If she’d been any less exhausted, Jess would have felt like a complete idiot. “Yeah—sorry. Just. Wanted to do that.”

River reached up, gently guiding her hair behind her shoulder. “Even without an audience?” he asked quietly.

“I’m amazed we did it with an audience.”

A smile broke slowly across his face, starting with his eyes and moving down to lips that curved up in shy relief. Bending, River set those lips on hers, and the same sensation of floating hit her like a narcotic. He gave her a series of sweet, brief kisses, and finally tilted his head to pull at her lower lip, nudging her mouth, coaxing it open so he could taste her.

The first contact with his tongue was like a shot of adrenaline into her heart, sent with shocking clarity and speed down every extremity. A quiet sound of relief escaped her throat and it turned something over in him; his hands flew around her back, pulling her flush against him.

Jess had the acute urge to crawl inside him somehow, kissing him with the kind of concentrated, building intensity she’d never felt before. Not even at the cocktail party. Alone together in the darkness of the parking lot, with a black sky all around and fingers of the cold, damp February air dipping beneath their collars, River left no room, holding her close and sending his warm, broad hand up under the hem of her sweater, pressing his hand flat to the small of her back.

Tight, hungry sounds escaped whenever they pulled away and came back for more. He bent possessively, one hand holding firm at her back, the other sliding up her neck, cupping her jaw, digging into her hair. Jess could, in an instant, see how easily he would devour her. A current vibrated when they came together; he became less man than pure energy, arms shaking with restraint. She imagined scooting back on a bed, watching him prowl forward, anticipating how it would feel to let him do whatever he wanted to her. Begging him to.

River broke the kiss, breathing hard and resting his forehead on hers. “Jess.”

She waited for more, but that seemed to be all of it, the quiet exhalation of her name.

Slowly, with the clarity of the sharp, cool air in her lungs and space from the intoxicating weight of his body against hers, she returned to herself. The night sky tickled the back of her neck; a sodium light buzzed overhead.

“Wow,” she said quietly.

“Yeah.”

He pulled back and looked down at her, a tether connecting something inside her to him. They were quiet, but the air didn’t feel empty.

River pulled his hand out from beneath her shirt, leaving the skin on her back suddenly chilly without the heat of his palm. And then the sensation doubled—as she leaned back into the cold side of her car, a violent shiver ran through her.

All at once, their proximity sank in.

Her car.

Juno.

Jess whipped around, horrified to remember only for the first time in several minutes that her child could possibly watch this through the window. Jess deflated in relief to replace that Juno was still out cold.

What was I thinking?

River stepped away, cupping his neck. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my God.” Jess lifted her hands to her face, breathless for an entirely new reason. “No, I started it. I’m—sorry.”

She walked around to the driver’s side, meeting his eyes over the top of the car. She was losing her head. This was all moving way too fast, and she had the sense that neither of them was behind the wheel. “Thank you,” she said, aware of the knowing, calculating way he watched her. Inwardly, Jess shook herself; she barely knew him. She was letting this soulmate stuff get to her.

“Good night,” he said quietly.

“Night,” Jess replied, her voice hoarse. She worried her panic and lust and confusion showed plainly on her face. She must have looked like a lunatic—wide-eyed and breathless—but fondness warmed his gaze from the inside out, as if he was seeing exactly the person he wanted to see.