Until We Say Goodbye

by Jane Drager

  She grabbed plates from an overhead cabinet, took the casserole from the refrigerator, and spooned a healthy portion onto each. After sliding one dish into the microwave and hitting the Start button, she then reached for tea glasses and set them on the table. While taking dinnerware from the drawer, she glanced over her shoulder. He had stepped into the kitchen but watched her with a guarded gaze. Since he’d already suspected her of doing away with Jan, maybe he contemplated a poisoning of his food. The idea almost made her laugh. She replaced the lid on the casserole and returned the dish to the refrigerator. “Deems is unusual for a first name.”

  Pulling out a chair, he lowered onto the thin cushion. “The name belongs to my great-grandfather on my mother’s side. The name is old English, but my mother’s family is actually from Dublin.”

  Jan had mentioned her brother on several occasions but hardly said anything worth retaining. Now, she understood why. Their ten-year age spread created too wide of a rift. Jan was still a little girl while he dated or worked, and from what Jan said, Deems mainly worked. Lauren and her brother, Bill, were only three years apart and always had a close relationship.

  After placing the hot plate in front of Deems, Lauren slipped in the second dish for reheating and punched in numbers for time. Facing him, she waited by leaning against the counter, arms folded across her chest.

  Deems sniffed the steam rising from his food. “Smells good.”

  “My mother’s recipe.” The timer dinged. She placed her plate on the table and settled at the table while he poured the tea from a large pitcher. She stifled another yawn with a quick glance in his direction. “Sorry, long day.”

  “You didn’t have to invite me to eat.” He forked in a mouthful, and his eyes widened. “Wow, this is great!” He shoveled in more and chewed, eyes closed. “I haven’t had food this good since I lived with my parents in Chicago. Marry me.”

  What? She started, met the twinkle in his gaze, then leaned back and laughed.

  Grinning, he waved his fork toward her. “That’s better. Your whole face brightens when you laugh.”

  She gave him a long, quiet look. “What would you do if I said yes?”

  “I’d stutter and stammer and wonder how the hell to take back the words.” He winked. “I’m glad to see you have a sense of humor. I’d like to know a little about you, Lauren Howell.”

  She took two napkins from the holder on the table and handed him one. “I teach creative art, high school level. Once I’m done with this special class, I’d like to include stained glass in my course.” She forked in a mouthful and chewed. “I’m studying with Antonio Giovanni Cartilano, the most famous stained glass artist in the country.”

  His gaze focused on her face. “But school is in session. Why are you here and not teaching?”

  “Because the State of Pennsylvania is in a budget crisis. Schools in every county were closed and consolidated.” Her mouth twisted to the side. “I lost my job last June along with dozens of others. So, I enrolled in Antonio’s class before applying for a new position.” She should be careful giving her life history to a stranger, but the man had a way of relaxing her. A combination of his voice and gentle smile, along with the kindness that passed onto his face, left her with a warm tingle. These days, most men gave her a cold chill.

  “Jan mentioned you were strapped for cash.”

  Whew, touchy subject. Avoiding eye contact, she toyed with her food. “I’m collecting unemployment, but New York is far too pricey to live here on Pennsylvania’s monthly allotment. Once I return home, I’ll find a temporary job as a food server.” She met his gaze. “I worked my way through college doing three-D murals for businesses and developed quite a reputation in Harrisburg.”

  A smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. “Sounds impressive. You can probably do the same in New York.”

  Dear Lord, never! Such a statement made her skin crawl. She waved her fork. “This city is not where I want to be.” She sipped her tea. “My biggest dream is to open my own studio if and whenever I buy my own house.”

  “To teach?”

  “Teach and create.” Which wouldn’t happen for a long time given her current lack of funds.

  He forked in a mouthful, chewed, then swallowed. “I wish Jan had more focus. I’m hoping you influence her in some way.”

  “We’ve talked, but she hasn’t a clue about her future.” With the napkin, she wiped the corner of her lips. “Jan’s young, even at twenty-two. Most kids her age think college is a big party.”

  “I suppose that’s how she met Eric.” Cringing, he met her gaze. “Drugs?”

  Her brows furrowed. “I’m not sure. That’s why I’m hoping she holds off with their live-in arrangement.” His mouth opened to speak, but she extended a finger to stop him. “Yes, I talked to her about protection.” She shrugged and smiled. “Big sister stuff.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, provided she follows your advice. I promised Mom and Dad I’d watch out for Jan, but so far, I’ve done a lousy job. Truthfully, I’m surprised she applied to a New York college and not one in Chicago.”

  She held up a finger. “I can answer that. She wanted her parents to move to Florida without worrying about her. By coming to New York, she’d at least have you nearby.”

  A brow lifted, and he shot her a quick glance. “I didn’t realize she’d be so considerate.” He finished the food on his plate, wiped the napkin over his mouth, and leaned back. “I shouldn’t complain about her lack of focus. I barely passed a year of college before I quit.” He finished his tea in three gulps and stood. With his empty plate in hand, he walked to the sink. “Since you fed me, I’ll wash up.”

  She almost choked on her casserole. When was the last time she heard a man volunteer for kitchen detail, especially one dressed in a silk shirt and tie? Suppressing a smile, she stood. “No, I’ll take care of the dishes, Mr. Lambert. Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Deems was a nice change from his chatterbox sister. And he seemed comfortable enough sitting at their small kitchen table. But truth be told, she had enough experience with men to know when one showed more than a casual interest. Sure, he hadn’t said a word, but his gaze spoke volumes. Best to push him out of the apartment before his musk cologne weakened her resolve.

  At the front door, he paused with his hand on the knob, his smile gentle. “I’m sorry I frightened you. With Jan not answering her phone and you not at home, I honestly believed something happened to her.”

  “And when I walked in alone, I was suspected of dastardly deeds?”

  His gaze twinkled. “Something like that.” He opened the door. “Thanks for dinner.”

  The breeze of the moving door blew his cologne past her, and the fragrance assaulted her senses in a way that stirred something deep inside her gut. Since the breakup of her engagement, she hadn’t had a good round of sex, and she’d love to be in a man’s arms again. But to start a relationship while in New York would be asinine. Even with a man as tempting as Jan’s brother. What if he kissed her, today, this second? Hell, I won’t even stop him.

  But he simply smiled.

  A gesture that displayed beautiful white teeth bright enough to weaken her knees.

  Narrowing his gaze, he leaned close. “Don’t call me Mr. Lambert anymore. You make me feel old.”

  Because she couldn’t help herself, she smiled right back.

  Chapter Three

  Before popping the cake pan into the preheated oven, Lauren licked the spicy batter off her fingers. Apple cake, a specialty from her hometown in apple country. Jan and Eric were due home tonight, and she’d prepared a scrumptious meal to welcome them. Oven-baked chicken, mashed potatoes with tons of butter and garlic, peas, a salad with homemade dressing, and an inexpensive bottle of white wine. She’d gotten the chicken and potatoes on sale, a lucky break considering her budget. Of course, a sale in Manhattan was a far cry from one at home, but she’d take what she could, even though New York prices bordered on highway ro
bbery.

  Today was Wednesday, and as a lucky break, Antonio cut their class short to attend an art show somewhere in Massachusetts. Lauren had ample time to shop for bargains, but why she bothered to feed two lovebirds perpetually in la-la land was unclear. To be nice, she supposed. Just because she detested Eric’s presence didn’t mean she had to make her feelings known to Jan. Besides, they were originally scheduled to fly in on Saturday, but for some reason, they cut their vacation three days short. Hopefully, neither caught a bug on the trip.

  “Lauren, we’re home!”

  Tossing her apron onto the counter, Lauren hurried to the living room as Jan swung several bags and boxes onto the sofa. Eric clunked the suitcases on the floor like he hadn’t an ounce of strength left to carry them. They were both red from a short week on the beach…well, Jan was red with her frizzy hair frizzier than ever. She resembled a cooked beet with fuzz. Eric Drummer showed more tan than red since he spent the majority of his time working on his beat-up sedan. After such a trip, he should have lost the motor oil clogging his pores—assuming he’d taken a bath or a dip in the ocean.

  What those two saw in each other remained a mystery. Janice Lambert was a cute, little woman, five foot and not an inch taller. At twenty-two, she barely had a shape, definitely no breasts so she saved on bra purchases. She wore only flowery or tie-dyed clothes, which hung loose to the point of flowing, but they gave her desperately needed color.

  Eric Drummer, however, wasn’t a man who caught a woman’s eye. Tall, lanky, and slightly slumped at the shoulders, he was six years older than Jan with stringy brown hair, shoulder-length and untrimmed. He had a habit of pushing the strands behind his ears with both hands in a feminine gesture that annoyed the hell out of Lauren. He wasn’t handsome in any way with too long a nose, brown eyes squeezed too close, and an untrimmed goatee. His entire wardrobe consisted of faded jeans with multiple rips and worn T-shirts overdue for the rag pile. He claimed his poor-man attire helped his case at the unemployment office.

  Lauren hugged Jan but merely nodded at Eric. The repulsion of that man touching her was beyond her tolerance. Jan might be all ga-ga over him, but Lauren considered him a freeloader, a man taking advantage of Jan’s innocence.

  Stepping back with a smile, Lauren placed her hands on her hips, her gaze sweeping from Jan to Eric. “So, how was the trip?”

  Jan beamed. “We had a smashing time. And I’ve got great news.” She wrapped an arm around Eric’s waist. “Eric’s moving in!”

  Aw, shit. Couldn’t they wait two more months? Hiding a grimace, Lauren shot a glance from one face to the other. “Here? Now?”

  “Sure, what better time than now?” Tilting her head, Jan stared lovingly at her boyfriend, sighed, and then returned her gaze to Lauren. “We discussed the arrangement and decided we’d save a lot of money if he lived with us. Great news, huh?”

  Yeah, just wonderful. Her chest tightened. “Shouldn’t we talk to Mr. O’Reilly? He may not like the idea of three people in this place.” Dear Lord, how can I possibly dissuade her?

  Jan waved aside the comment. “We’ll be three people for a couple of months. After you leave, we’ll be back to two. He shouldn’t complain.” She gave Eric’s waist a squeeze. “The best part of the whole deal is now we’ll split the rent in three.”

  Eric released himself from Jan’s arm wrap and leaned toward Lauren. “We definitely don’t want you to leave. I may be on unemployment, but I can help with the rent.”

  His unemployment allotment should be substantially higher than hers. That was the only pleasant news arising from Jan’s announcement. Lauren needed all the breaks available. But good Lord, Eric? How could she possibly live in the same apartment and share the same bathroom with such a scumbag? She’d rather poke out her eye with a stick.

  With no other recourse in the foreseeable future, Lauren swallowed her concerns and let out a sigh. “All right.” Nothing else to do but accept the change. She hugged Jan a second time. “I’m happy for you, honey.” May as well make the best of the situation.

  Ever since she moved in, Lauren had acted like a mother hen to Jan, and they discussed an abundance of issues. One of which included Eric’s age. Since Jan had an obvious lack of maturity, she risked being stepped on by Eric. Actually, the word might be trampled, and Jan’s invitation to Eric smacked of impulsiveness, a subject not well conceived as far as privacy issues and space. The apartment had two bedrooms but only one full bath, one television in the living room, and a two-seater kitchen table. The idea of sharing close quarters with a man like Eric made Lauren’s skin crawl.

  I’ll tolerate him. To look for another place with only two months before her classes ended would be a lesson in futility. She was a big girl and had taken care of herself since the start of college. Eric was just another bump in the road.

  The oven timer buzzed. She clapped her hands and waved Jan toward the kitchen. “We’ll have more room if we eat in the living room. Eric, clear off the sofa.” Hurrying, she grabbed her oven mitts and removed the cake pan as Eric’s cell phone shrilled.

  After several minutes, he joined Jan and Lauren in the kitchen. “I’m running out for a few minutes. You two start without me.” He kissed Jan on the top of her head. “I’m taking your backpack.”

  “Why?” Jan reached for his arm but grabbed only air. “The bag’s full of dirty laundry.”

  Scratching his head, he stopped in the archway. “Oh, right. I’ll dump the clothes on the bed. Be back in a jiff.” He gave a quick wave and left.

  Both women stared at the empty archway until the front door slammed.

  Shaking herself, Jan frowned. “I guess we may as well eat in here. Who knows when he’ll return.” She took wine glasses from the cabinet and set them on the table. “He’s been acting weird lately.”

  “Weirder than normal?” Lauren hooked her arm through Jan’s and urged her to sit at the table. “Maybe this is a good time to explain why you cut three days from your vacation.”

  “Oh—” Jan shot Lauren a pained look but quickly broke eye contact. “Eric said an old friend is in town, and he wants to see him before he leaves.” She shrugged her small shoulders. “He said it’s important.”

  More important than a trip to the Bahamas with a girlfriend? Talk about an ego-buster. “Who paid for this trip, Jan?”

  Jan lowered her gaze even further and shuffled her feet on the linoleum floor. “Me. He’d made all the plans but admitted to his lack of cash.” She shot her a sideways glance. “He bought the plane tickets, though.”

  Whoop de do. Typical male. Working his own agenda…like her ex.

  The days passed. Lauren fell into a routine of avoiding the lovebirds who kissed and cuddled at every opportunity. Always feeling like a third wheel, she spent a lot of time in Central Park since the location wasn’t far from the studio. She’d munch on a sandwich or an apple, killing time before walking home. She rarely cooked except for herself in the morning and hadn’t eaten dinner with them since she took no great pleasure sitting near Eric. Anyway, Jan wanted to impress him with her culinary skills. Too bad his table manners bordered on Neanderthal. He wolfed food like garbage being shoved into a disposal.

  Since the beginning of the semester, on every Tuesday and Thursday, Jan attended an early morning class while Lauren’s five-day-a-week class began promptly at ten unless specifically ordered to arrive earlier. Eric stumbled from bed when the mood hit him and flicked on the TV where he lounged on the sofa for the majority of the day. He was never fully dressed, always shirtless to show a chest with no muscles, no hair, and absolutely no stimulus to a woman’s libido. With his stringy hair and the chronic odor of motor oil, the man was about as appealing as a used tissue. But Jan loved him, and that was all that mattered…to her.

  One night, while reading a magazine in bed, Lauren let her thoughts drift and immediately conjured images of Deems. She wasn’t sure why he popped into her head. He hadn’t come around since their dinner together and only talked
to Jan once after her return from the Bahamas. Since she ate alone most of the time, Lauren longed for another casual conversation with a man far better than slovenly Eric. Every once in a while, she’d come home and sit on the outside step with Mr. O’Reilly, but he was in his seventies and of no comparison to a man like Deems.

  If truth be told, the thought of seeking Deems’ company was dangerous. She attributed her bit of mind wandering to the intense loneliness of being in New York without family or friends. Sure, she’d call her mother or a few close girlfriends, but nothing beat having a face-to-face talk with a live human. These days, Jan centered most of her attention on Eric, so she and Lauren rarely spent time together. If anything, Eric had caused a rift in their friendship wider than the Grand Canyon.

  One morning, to Lauren’s surprise, Eric strolled into the kitchen while she ate breakfast at the table. He wore no shirt, no socks, and his jeans had the snap loose, revealing the unmistakable absence of underwear.

  He scrunched his face at her scrambled eggs and spinach and yawned loudly. “Any coffee left?”

  Suppressing a shudder, she fully expected him to scratch himself, or worse, stretch until his pants fell. “Help yourself.” She bit into her toast and glanced at the wall clock. “The time is barely eight o’clock. Why are you awake so early?” A job interview? A chance to contribute rather than take? Yeah, right. Dream on.

  “I wanted to talk to you without Jan home.” He poured coffee into a cup and spooned in his usual six teaspoons of sugar.

  Lauren wiped the last of her eggs with the toast, not in the least willing to have a private conversation with the man. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “You, in particular.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his legs. As usual, his gaze lingered on her chest. “When will you let me try you out?”

  Her gut clenched. She stopped chewing and scrutinized him. “Meaning?” Like she hadn’t a clue to his indecent implication.