Chapter 12 -- Montreal
It was about half an hour outside of Montreal when I realized that Jane was squeezing my hand. She had taken it, and was holding it tight, probably for the last 15 minutes or so. I knew Jane's history with the city had been bittersweet, but I could feel the tension emanating from her.
Everything had all really started shortly after our night at St. Anne's. Jane and I had an amazing night there, and I really began to see that Jane was lifting herself from the fun she had been in. It was like she was remembering the woman she was before her failed marriage to Robert. A couple weekends after the banquet, Jane called me up while I was on a trip.
"Tom, I was wondering if you'd want to go with me to Montreal a couple weekends from now" Jane told me. I was more than happy to accept. Jane continued "Every summer, a bunch of the girls I played rugby with get together. This year they're celebrating the 25th anniversary of our national championship. I haven't been in a few years, and wanted to go."
"Promise me there won't be any big surprises, Wonder Woman?" I had taken to calling her that, much to her chagrin.
"No, dear, I was merely Lois Lane in my college years" Jane replied. I considered correcting her, but decided that I'd rather not and risk ruining the chance of getting to hear about the lingerie she had bought for when I got back.
The next couple weeks flew by, I got to see her in (and out of) her lingerie, and the Montreal trip had arrived. We were across the border, and then headed up the highway for night one of our trip. We'd be visiting Jane's brother and his husband in Toronto. I was surprised to find out that the scenery had a lot more in common with Kansas than I had expected. Jane was bemused by my observations. We talked about a lot of things, but Montreal stayed on the outside of the conversation.
Jane and I got to our hotel, showered, and were off to meet her brother and his husband at a nice restaurant downtown. The conversation that night ran the gamut of topics. Intelligence and athletic skills had run in their family; Peter had gone to Queens ("Think of Harvard vs Yale" was Jane's explanation), and had played junior hockey for a while.
"I'm happy things are getting better" said Peter, "I knew as soon as I was ready to come out, that it was going to either be hockey or happiness." Their parents, despite being lifelong Catholics, had supported his decision completely, even leaving the church when the judgement of their fellow parishioners became ridiculous. Everything about Peter and Jerome I liked, and at one point Jane and I locked eyes, and I could see her thanking me, without saying a word.
Later that night, in our fancy hotel room, after having made love for a couple hours, Jane started talking. "Tom, I'm so happy that you're" and she started crying a little, which turned into sobs.
"Honey, what's wrong?" I asked, but received no response for a few minutes, until she'd calmed down.
"My brother and I didn't speak for years, because" she composed herself for a minute "I chose Robert." I held her, and she powered through "Robert was very homophobic, and I" she stopped, and the sobbing continued.
I was going to stop this. "Jane, it's in the past, I'm not Robert, your brother and his husband are amazing. I'm not jealous of Robert, but you need to stop bringing him up, because it's not good for you." Jane stayed silent. I just squeezed her. She eventually fell asleep, and I stayed awake, looking at her. I had felt the change in her mood. Going back to Montreal might have been a bad decision.
The next day, we headed up to Montreal from Toronto. It was a pleasant drive, but Jane had barely been able to talk. It was like the city of Montreal was the epicenter of the disaster of her life. The little we did talk, was just guidance for where I should go to stop when we needed to. The car was full of tension. I wasn't sure if I had hurt her, or made her angry. It really didn't matter, and if she hated me with the passion of a thousand suns right now, I'd trade that for her to just be happy. So when she took my hand, it gave me hope that we would be okay.
We got to a beautiful old hotel in downtown, where a few of her former teammates were staying. Jane checked us in at the desk, while I got the bags sent up to our room. Jane still looked beautiful, even now when she was a mess. Especially now. We walked into the room, and she went for the bathroom. I checked on the weather, did a few other housekeeping things, put our clothes away, etc. It wasn't until an hour had gone by that I realized the Jane had been in there for that long. I knocked on the door, and Jane didn't answer. I opened the door, thankful it was unlocked, and saw Jane sitting in the tub, fully clothed, no water in it.
"Jane" I tried to find the words, but saw that she was crying. I stepped into the tub, and sat in behind her. She lay against me, still crying. It took me a while to find the courage "Jane, can you please tell me what's wrong." She just pulled my arms around her.
Eventually, she seemed to get the courage. "Tom" she shuddered a little "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I've been thinking about my life" she paused to wipe tears away "and everything I regret." I knew better than to say anything, and Jane continued. "I regret being with Robert, who used me as his placeholder so that the other partners thought he was good for the firm, and" and she began to cry harder "for wasting my life." I felt hurt a bit, but it wasn't about me now. "Tom, I love you very much, but you did so much, and had so much success, and I can't stand up to what you've done."
I let her words roll around a bit, and confessed "I wanted to be a fighter pilot."
"What's the difference" she was at least not crying as hard anymore.
"We flew the F-14 Tomcat when I entered the Navy, do you remember Top Gun?" Jane nodded, so I continued "well, the top two guys in flight training got that, the next few got the Hornet, a strike fighter, and then I had only one real option. I love the jet I flew, but it's been my big regret." I waited for Jane, but she was silent.