Tangled Hearts

by Tea DeLuca

  She dragged her feet over the thick green grass like a carpet despite being trampled each day. Resilient and green like the leaves as spring had come early to Charleston. She loved this time of year, loved the color green. Something about beginnings, rebirth, starting again, pushing off the ugliness of winter to regrow, to thrive, and to hope. She touched her hand to her short locks barely brushing her shoulders. Something caught her attention between the leaves on the ground, a shiny new penny. A penny for luck. A penny in a bride’s shoe. The last penny in her wallet. See a penny, pick it up. All the day, have good luck.

  Whoosh…bang. When Mags opened her eyes, she was staring up at the clear blue sky and dark, dark eyes.

  “Mags, are you all right?” Mark in shorts and a tight t-shirt drenched in sweat, Mark in his aviator glasses now perched on his head, and Mark with earbuds yanked and tossed carelessly around his neck. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Did I hurt you?”

  She’d hit a solid wall in the image of a toned and sculptured chest. She remembered he ran, but maybe he was working out, too. His hand under her shoulder, she winced from the encounter with the purse snatcher. Reaching up with her other hand, he pulled her to her feet. Walk away, his words echoed in her head. If you see me somewhere, walk away. “My fault. I wasn’t paying attention, either. I probably walked right out in front of you.” Walk away.

  “Your book?” he asked, handing her back her textbook that had traveled a fair distance from her landing.

  “Mine. Yes, thank you.” Walk away.

  Both of them turned away, but neither made a move to leave. Inches away, he could hear her labored breathing and the beats of both of their hearts. He stared ahead as he asked, “Did you ever finish your MBA?”

  She gripped her book tighter against her, staring off to the lake. She wanted to lean back against his back, but she fought the urge, fought several urges as she tried to answer him. “Not yet. Life kind of got in the way, but I’m taking one class at a time, and I’m back at work at the shop.”

  “You have your own shop?” he asked, feeling the heat radiate between them on his back.

  “Not yet. I manage The Crystal Boutique downtown. I sell ladies’ clothing and recently added a section for kids. Mom can shop for herself and the children. We’re testing the idea, but so far it’s been going well, but you’re not interested in this.”

  “I’m glad for you, Mags. How’s your dad?” Why wasn’t he walking away?

  “He always talks about you. I think he forgets what happened between us. Mom says he forgets a lot of things, but after the doctors diagnosed him with early Alzheimer and depression, we just…” Her voice faded, and she turned to face him. “Your folks all right?”

  “The same,” he nodded.

  Walk away. She willed her legs to move, but his voice followed her. “Why did you cut your hair?”

  The tears flashed for a moment in her eyes then her shoulders relaxed. It was only hair, long, thick, with a bit of a curl and chestnut with amber highlights. Much different than the short style she wore now. “I got tired of dealing with it. Much easier for a busy girl.”

  He watched her walk away. Something was wrong. He knew her too well, sensed something more than she was saying, but as much as his heart wouldn’t forget, and his body demanded he reach for her, he shouldn’t. Even if he thought there might be a remote chance, he had Liddy to think about now. He’d call Melissa when he reached home and see if she were free for coffee next week.

  Chapter 4

  He closed the last of the file folders on his desk as his last client left. The sunshine was calling him, but Wednesdays he met Perry at the gym. His best friend from high school along with a small group of misfits, guys and gals, had remained close through failed relationships and family losses. He leaned heavily on Perry when he lost Mags. The group of six was tight, so tight that ‘friends’ were not usually welcomed. Unless you were important enough to be a spouse, the group didn’t include you, but Mark had brought Mags to every function whether a picnic, a night at the bar, or a birthday party, and they had grudgingly relented until she called off the wedding five minutes before kickoff. Then they shut her out and protected him with a vengeance. They wouldn’t return her calls, glared at her or ignored her if they crossed paths, and wrote her off as a bad check. All except for Gayle. She was fortunate to have a job that took her out of the country a good deal of the time, and she continued to communicate with Mags by email. She mentioned Mark briefly in passing—when he moved just outside of Charleston to work on his degree and when he had married the tiny blond bombshell he barely knew. Less likely to incur the wrath of the group this way, Gayle checked up on her friend from time to time, though in the last year Mags’ emails had become less and less frequent.

  Perry was late as usual, but Mark changed quickly and headed for the punching bag. He needed to pound Mags out of his head especially at night when he couldn’t sleep with his thoughts. Otherwise, he’d have to find another way to push back the memories of her soft skin, her long legs wrapped around him, and his face buried between her breasts. His memories more vivid than usual, he pounded the bag till his arms ached, and Perry’s voice laughed behind him.

  “Something or someone’s in your head, Markie. What’s going on?” He dropped his bag and set the timer on the treadmill. Perry, the fairest of the group, had actually grown up in California. His rich tan and sandy blond hair pegged him quickly as beach material and drew the attention of the beach bunnies. When his parents split in his junior year of high school, he ended up with his mother in Charleston where he met his lifelong friend and the rest of the misfits.

  The last person Mark wanted to talk with about Mags was Perry. Of all of their friends, he had taken Mags’ rejection more personal than the others. His bitterness was too obvious to the point Mark felt obligated to defend her. He adjusted the treadmill beside his friend and started at a hard walk. “I’m fine,” he said over the grind of the machine.

  Perry watched him over the next hour, driven on each machine to push away something. “Talk to me, bro. What the hell is going on?”

  Arms aching Mark slowly sat down on the mat. He fished out his water bottle and took a long drink. “I ran into Mags the other night in a restaurant.”

  Perry’s calm, lazy demeanor made an abrupt detour. “I hope you physically knocked her on her ass.”

  He had at the park, but he wasn’t going into that now. “Just hello. How are you?”

  “Did you tell the bitch to go to hell?” Perry grunted. “Because if you didn’t, I will.”

  “It was a two-minute conversation and stay out of it, Per.”

  “Tell me after five years this isn’t about her. You aren’t beating yourself up here because of her.”

  “Not like that. We’re done, but I can’t ignore how I feel about her.”

  “Can’t? Why not? Was she thinking about you when she let you tell a church full of people that the bride had changed her mind? Did she think about you when she crushed your heart and sent you into a permanent home at the bottom of a Scotch bottle? She’s no good, Mark.”

  “Shit, Perry, relax. I just said I ran into her. I didn’t say it meant anything. I have Liddy now.”

  “And that sweet little girl shouldn’t be anywhere near that stupid woman. You need to find someone else. Not someone like Stacy who filled a temporary gap, but a partner to build a life with.”

  “How many times have you been married, bro? Maybe you should take your own advice.” Mark tossed his towel back in his bag and drank again. Perry wasn’t any help, though he smiled at his support. He always had his back. “Anyway, you might be right. I have a date with a lady doctor tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Good for you. No more thoughts of Magnolia.”

  “Right.” He probably wouldn’t run into her again for another five years unless he looked for her at the park or at a small shop in the city. No, maybe Melissa would clear his head and spark his fire and burn Mag
s right out of his memory.

  Chapter 5

  His body itched, the tiny beads of sweat tickling his chest. First dates always made him feel tentative, uneasy. His hand rested on the door handle, cleverly carved into a spoon of the coffee shop, Bean & Books, but his eye traveled across the street to the pretty shop that catered to woman looking for the latest fashions at The Crystal Boutique. Mags was so close but as always miles away. Eight o’clock before he had any appointments and before Melissa began seeing patients, he was meeting her for coffee and book shopping. She waved at him from a back table where she already sipped her coffee. Stacy hadn’t exaggerated. Dr. Melissa Stratton was stunningly beautiful and polished. Her hair pulled back in a neat bun allowed her classic beauty to shine. Saucer size muted blue-gray eyes, porcelain skin, plump soft lips, and sizable breasts, Mark’s body reacted with typical male appreciation.

  She held out her hand and shook his firmly and confidently. He liked her already.

  “Thanks for meeting me. I put in a lot of hours, but I was anxious to meet you. Liddy talks non-stop about her daddy.”

  Mark smiled as he watched her carefully. The lawyer in him weighed everything. Starting with his daughter was a nice touch on her part. “Liddy is perfect and Daddy’s little girl. I’m afraid she thinks I’m perfect, too.”

  She smiled warmly. “I’ll reserve judgement then till I get to know you better, though you must be a special man to inspire such love in a child.”

  Mark moved uncomfortably and decided to change the subject. “So, how did you decide to become a doctor?”

  She steadied her gaze on her cup but looked at him through long dark lashes. “My father was a surgeon at John Hopkins. I was a very spoiled only child, but to my credit, I learned early the value of an education and developed a love for books. I understand you love books as well, the kind you can hold in your hand.”

  “Yes,” he nodded, sipping his coffee, “I don’t own a reader, because I’d rather hold a book in my hand.”

  “Maybe stroke the pages, inhale the ink, touch every corner?” Her voice soft, and her eyes penetrated his.

  Mark caught her meaning. She was definitely confident enough to pursue what she wanted, but there was something that didn’t feel quite right. “Digest the book, yes. What is your specialty?”

  “Women’s health issues, oncology.” She watched him for the inevitable reaction.

  “That’s tough, dealing with women who are battling cancer,” Mark said thoughtfully.

  “Truthfully, it’s awful telling a young woman her days are limited, and there is nothing left to do. It’s heartbreaking, but there are so many advances in medical science that our successes are very satisfying.”

  Mark had never known anyone touched by the dreaded disease. He had to respect her dedication and her bravery. Over Melissa’s shoulder he saw Mags come into the shop and join the line of morning coffee drinkers. His heart skipped several beats, and he lost track of the conversation as he noted her straight black skirt and red silk blouse. The short hairdo was growing on him, and the familiar stirring in his stomach churned, but she was a little thinner. Maybe it was the skirt, but though she was still curvy and sexy, she was definitely thinner. He would know. He knew every inch of her perfect body, every curve, every dip, and every smooth inch of her skin. He forced his attention back to Melissa who finished her coffee and took his hand.

  “I’d love to go upstairs now and look at the books.”

  “Of course.” He guided her with his hand resting on the curve of her back to the large circular stairs in the center of the room that led to the second floor. She waited till they were nearly to the top before she glided her hand in his. He stopped and looked back down and locked eyes with Mags. Unspoken pain in a tight thread between them till he allowed Melissa to pull him down one aisle.

  When Mags caught sight of Mark, he was climbing the stairs to the second floor, his hand intimately connected against the back of the woman. It was an obvious date; it couldn’t be anything else, and the pain she thought she had conquered years ago grabbed her and knifed through her heart. Why the hell was she running into him so much now? And who was the beautiful woman he was with? She hadn’t seen her face, but she had seen enough.

  She stepped away from the line and collapsed in the closest chair at the closest table. When her legs worked again, she’d head back to her shop. She didn’t need coffee this badly, and yet she couldn’t run from Mark the rest of her life. She couldn’t break down every time she saw him.

  A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder and squatted down beside her chair. “You all right, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I did,” she whispered. “A ghost from the past.”

  He quirked an eyebrow and studied her thoughtfully. Ronnie was fifteen years older and worked as her delivery and pickup man. He didn’t need the money but appreciated mingling with people and loved Mags. She was his best friend, though, sometimes his significant other questioned their relationship. He knew all about her history with Mark, and from the look on her face he had to be somewhere nearby. “Go back to the shop, princess. I’ll bring you coffee.”

  She nodded and avoided looking to the second floor, but Mark still watched from behind the shelves. Melissa wandered, pausing to point out classics or budding new authors. He wanted to know who the old guy was that soothed her and sent her back to the shop. Ronnie bought two cups of coffee and headed back with a small bag of sugar cookies, her favorite. He wanted to beat the hell out of him.

  Melissa leaned in front of him to reach yet another book and brushed her breast against his arm. He’d have to be dead not to have noticed or felt the warm jolt in his groin. When he left with her a few minutes later, she kissed him slowly and rested her warm hand against his throat. “So, did I pass inspection?” she grinned.

  “What?” He was still distracted by the loser so obviously a part of Mags’ life. “I’d like to get to know you better, Melissa.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Drinks tonight. Little bar down the street all right?”

  “Sure, seven, text me your address.” She kissed him long and deeply again in front of the shop before heading down the street to her car.

  He checked his phone for the time. He was only a few blocks from work, but his heart twisted till he turned his direction to the pretty boutique. Pink awning, silver door, he stepped inside, though the shop wasn’t open yet. There were no salesgirls or anyone to greet him. He stepped toward the counter and heard her behind an office door sobbing. He’d have known it was Mags anywhere. She’d often cry in frustration at the height of her anger, but this was different. These were sobs that were torn from her, agonizingly painful. He couldn’t stand listening to her. He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her and comfort her. Just as his hand hit the door, he heard a second voice.

  “It’s okay, princess. Let it out once and for all.” He saw red, picturing the guy from the coffee shop, standing in his place, holding her, cradling her head against his chest. If he didn’t leave now, someone was going to get hurt, and the lawyer would end up in jail. He closed his eyes against her cries. What had dissolved her to this? It couldn’t be seeing him in the coffee shop. Could she really be …

  “I’m fine, Ronnie. It just took me by surprise,” she sniffed, grabbing another tissue.

  “Just for the record, princess, he’s a loser for letting you go.”

  Mark’s breathing stopped, and his head spun. He moved in a daze out on the street to find some air. Never had he let her go. She dumped him. What the hell was this Ronnie talking about?

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, once then twice. He angrily pulled it out of his jacket, expecting a problem at work, but the call was from Stacy. Liddy? With shaking hands, he took the call as he walked in the direction of the Preston Building. “Stacy, is Liddy all right?”

  “She’s fine, Daddy,” his ex-laughed. “How did your date go?”

  He nearly threw his phone. For a minut
e he had forgotten all about Melissa. “It went fine. Leave me alone.”

  “What’s wrong with you? Tell me you didn’t screw it up already.”

  “We’re having drinks tonight. Satisfied?”

  “Yes, I am. Now make sure you satisfy Melissa,” Stacy teased.

  “Mind your own business.”

  “All right, all right, but you do like her, don’t you? I can tell, Mark. She’s perfect for you.”

  “I like her well enough, but I don’t know her yet.”

  “Well, go get her, Tiger.”

  He entered the congested building and rode the elevator to the fourth floor. Then he locked his office door, giving his secretary orders to hold his calls. He wanted time to think. He poured a shot of whiskey into a crystal glass and sent it straight to his tensed nerve endings, mid-morning or not. Refilling his glass, he stared at the skyline from his glass wall of windows. When Mags stopped the wedding, he hadn’t waited for an explanation. He had often wondered what the real reason behind her decision had been. Could he have been so wrong in believing in their love? He thought she loved him as much as he loved her. Then why? And why had he never asked her? Maybe, because the first month he had drank till he passed out every night. Then he met Stacy in a bar, and he had used her as an obvious diversion to thinking about Mags. And while they had only gone out a few times and weren’t in it for the long haul, three months later she let him know she was pregnant. He had tried to do the right thing but marrying her was another mistake and less than a year later, it ended in divorce. Then for the sake of his daughter he got his shit together. Finished school, got his degree, and finally took the job recently at Henderson, Henderson, and Scopes. He had no idea Mags was still in the area, or that he would run into her. He should have talked to her, tried to … what? Convince her to marry him when she didn’t want or love him?