The Apple of My Eye

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The Apple of My Eye Page 12

by Mary Ellen Bramwell


  I thought she was being overly generous. I didn’t think there was anything selfless in my grieving at all, but, knowing Martha, there would be no convincing her otherwise. Besides, I was grateful she wasn’t mad at me. “Martha, you are a better friend then I deserve.”

  “No, Brea, but given enough years, I’ve learned a little patience. I knew you’d come around eventually. So, what’s up? I saw you march over here with a very determined step. This is not simply an apology visit, is it?”

  “Well, no it isn’t. Could I borrow your car? You’re welcome to use mine in the meantime.” Catching her confused look, I had to acknowledge just how odd what I asked must have sounded. “Martha, it’s complicated. I’ll explain it all eventually. But for right now, I just need you to trust me on this.”

  “It’s never a matter of trust; you should know that. I am curious, but I’m sure you have a good reason. Did I see your parents around, so there is someone to watch Noah?”

  “Yes, you don’t miss a thing, do you?”

  “Not much, not much. I might have to stop by, though, to see that sweet little boy of yours. You won’t mind, will you?”

  “Of course not.” I reached out to hug this gentle woman. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed her company and became aware of how much I needed her in light of all that had happened lately. We exchanged car keys and I sped off to learn what I could about Alex.

  . . .

  It was late afternoon when I pulled into Alex’s neighborhood. At least I had the sense not to park right in front of his house this time. Instead, I found a side street off Shadow Lane, a short distance from Alex’s house. A number of parked cars were scattered about. Slipping in between a couple of them, I felt inconspicuous. I didn’t have a perfect view of his house, but I could at least see the comings and goings.

  Being new at the stake out business, I learned I had not planned well in the least. I could have used a pair of binoculars, like the nice pair sitting in the top of my closet at home. Some food and water also wouldn’t have been a bad idea.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long to see some activity. On the other hand, what I saw wasn’t much. Alex came down the street in his car a few minutes later, turned into his driveway, then entered his house. Other than his stepping out of the house later for a smoke, nothing happened.

  I wasn’t sure how long I should wait around, not helped by the fact that I didn’t know what I was watching for. My grumbling stomach won out, and I left for home around 9 pm.

  Driving home, I made a mental list of what I would do differently tomorrow. Food was at the top of my list, but I knew that wouldn’t help me with Alex. Now that I had wasted my evening, did I dare use Martha’s car again? With a split second decision, I turned the car around to head to Amy’s apartment. Maybe she could loan me her car tomorrow.

  As I approached Amy’s door, I realized that for the second time in the same day I was in a position of needing to apologize for how I had treated one of my best friends. Buoyed up by Martha’s response I rang the bell.

  It only took a moment for Amy to answer the door. She didn’t say a word as she stood in the doorway but tilted her head to the side and gave me a questioning glance.

  “I’m sorry, Amy. You’ve been trying to help me and I stubbornly wouldn’t let you.”

  She still stood silently in front of me, placing her hands on either side of the doorframe, blocking any further entrance. I wasn’t sure what to say now. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m here because I need your help.” It came out sounding lame, and I knew it.

  Amy’s face relaxed into a grin, and she started laughing. I wasn’t sure how to take that, so I stared back into her face.

  “Brea, come on in.” She dropped her arms and moved aside to let me in. “Do you have any idea how pathetic you look? You look like a puppy dog begging for his dinner.”

  “Are you mad at me? Because I wouldn’t blame you.”

  “Of course I’m mad at you. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped liking you. You’re like my sister. We may disagree, even get mad, but we’ll be the first to defend each other. So, what do you need?”

  It was my turn to laugh. “You always could cut to the chase.” I wasn’t in the rush that I had been in when I was at Martha’s, so I explained what was going on to the best of my knowledge up to my failed stake out.

  Before I could even ask to borrow her car, she could see where I was headed and beat me to the punch. “Okay, so you need a different car tomorrow. You can borrow mine, but only if you take me with you. When do you want me to pick you up in the morning?” She smiled her self-satisfied smile, knowing I couldn’t refuse her.

  STAKEOUT REDO

  Amy came by bright and early at six in the morning. After talking it over, Amy had suggested we show up before Alex might head out for the day. Then we could follow him if need be. He wouldn’t know her, so if she followed him for a short distance we surmised it wouldn’t arouse any suspicion.

  We arrived at the same side street I had used the previous night but parked in a different spot and settled in. This time the car was well stocked with snacks, my pair of binoculars, and even a couple of pillows if we needed to take turns catching a short nap.

  The house was dark and quiet; we were probably in for the long haul. “So, how’s Noah these days?” Amy asked. There was an edge to her voice. It hadn’t dawned on me that shutting her out also meant cutting her off from Noah, who was growing and changing every day.

  “He’s ...,” I wasn’t quite sure where to begin. “He’s crawling all over the place now. His favorite game is peek-a-boo.” My answer sounded inadequate. “Oh, Amy, I’m really sorry. Do you want to come over later and see him?”

  “Yes. Of course I would. I’ll come for dinner, and you can feed me while you’re at it.”

  I smiled. That was sounding more and more like the old Amy I knew and loved. “So, what would you like for dinner?”

  “Something homemade would be nice. I’m getting tired of TV dinners. Do you know how much sodium is in those things? You need to take better care of me; you know that, don’t you?”

  Our combined laughter was like a healing ointment and all was forgiven. “I can’t believe what a jerk I’ve been lately.”

  “I know, but there’s hope for you now. So, really, what is Noah doing these days?”

  I started to rattle off his latest milestones and misadventures. It was like coming home.

  We had soon settled into such a comfortable exchange that we almost missed Alex when he came out his front door. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and sat up with a start. “There he is!” I exclaimed just as he opened the back door of his car and ducked in.

  “Where?”

  “Just watch. He’s in the car. I can’t tell if he’s going to leave or not because he’s messing around in the back seat. Quick, grab the binoculars.”

  Amy held them out to me just as Alex came back out of the car and stood up. She let out an audible gasp and then snatched them back from my ready grasp to put them to her eyes. “I don’t believe it. When you told me the name Alex, it sounded familiar, but I never thought in a million years it would be that Alex.”

  “You know him?”

  “Yeah, I do.” She sounded just as surprised as I felt.

  “Who is he? How do you know him?”

  She let the binoculars fall and turned to me. “His name is Alex Roberts. Do you remember when I first met Paul I was working as an intern at the hotel?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, Alex worked there too. He was the maintenance man. I didn’t know him all that well, but I would see him every once in a while at our staff lunche
s. Alex was single at the time, and he started coming on to me at the lunches. One time he asked for my phone number, and I gave it to him. But later when I thought about it, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to date him. I can’t say why, just something bothered me about him. So I made sure to run into him and then give him the cold shoulder to discourage him. He got the message and didn’t call me ... at least not then.”

  “When did he call you?”

  “Long after I had left that internship. He called me about seven or eight months ago. He had to remind me who he was, because I had forgotten him. After he refreshed my memory, I was worried he was going to ask me out after all that time, but that’s not what he wanted at all. He was asking me about you.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, he said he was helping Paul put together a nice surprise for you with the new baby and all. It must have been either right before or right after Noah was born. He wanted to know where you liked to shop and your favorite places to hang out. I thought he was putting together some gift certificates or something. Oh, and he asked for your phone number. I guess in retrospect that doesn’t make much sense. Paul could have told him your number.”

  “Sure, but why would he want it anyway?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. That’s a good question. I haven’t a clue. I’m sorry if I told him anything I shouldn’t have. It just seemed legit at the time.”

  “I know. I would have done the same thing in your shoes. But I wonder what the whole thing was about. Paul didn’t give me gift certificates or anything that seems to fit with what you’re describing.”

  I grew silent, thinking back seven and eight months ago when the world seemed to be full of color and light. “Paul was so sweet and helpful after Noah was born.” I was so lost in thought I hadn’t realized that I had audibly spoken until Amy responded.

  “What did he do that you remember most?” Amy asked. Her voice was quiet to match my own, as if anything louder might shatter the moment or bring a flood of unwelcome tears.

  I didn’t answer at first. What did stand out the most? As I flipped through the memories in my mind, I noticed that Alex had retreated into his house. Knowing that more empty waiting time stretched before us, I felt the need to respond. I wasn’t sure I trusted my voice, but I began anyway. “You know some of the things he did already – the apples and the roses, making me dinner, that kind of thing.” I stopped to allow myself a wistful smile. “I think my favorite memories come from the simple moments. I remember Paul bathing Noah by himself for the first time. He was so nervous that he would do something wrong or somehow hurt our little boy. I had to talk him through each step. At one point I even offered to take over, but he said that no, he was going to do it. After that, Paul bathed Noah whenever he could.

  “When they both had a few baths under their belts, Paul showed him the magic of bubbles. He would get a soap bubble on his hand and then blow it into the air and Noah would start those baby belly laughs. Or he would take a bubble and gently transfer it to Noah’s hands and then clap Noah’s hands together to help him pop it.

  “I guess it’s just a million little things like that that I remember, that I miss.” I then added, “I hope they were all real.”

  “Brea, they were real. I don’t know what was up with Paul, but it doesn’t change those moments.”

  We both lapsed into silent contemplation. I took the binoculars back and fiddled with them, wondering what was next.

  Amy’s voice broke into my thoughts. “There he is again.”

  I lifted the binoculars to my eyes to get a better view. Alex was standing by the back of his car, watching expectantly for something. Thankfully, he wasn’t looking in our direction. After a few minutes, another car pulled in behind his. As it did so, Alex went to the back seat of his car and retrieved an item that was slightly bigger than his hand. It appeared lightweight and fairly slim. The only thing I could think of was that it looked like a handheld game or a glucose monitor, but other than that, I could tell nothing about it.

  By now the other driver had gotten out of his car. He came into my binocular’s view as he met Alex to take the object from him. I could see the back of his head as he and Alex began to engage in some sort of intense discussion. I dropped the binoculars to focus on listening to their words, but I couldn’t catch even a snippet of what they were saying. Amy was clearly trying hard to hear what they were saying as well.

  After a few minutes, the second man turned around to leave. As he did so, his face stirred something in my memory. “Do you know who that is Amy? He looks familiar.”

  “No, I’ve never seen him before. Where do you think you know him from?”

  I probably wouldn’t have placed him except at that moment Alex moved in beside him. Seeing their faces together reminded me once again of the funeral. He was the other rude mourner at Paul’s service. It caught me by surprise merely because I wasn’t thinking along those lines, but as I considered it, it wasn’t surprising at all. If they were associated now, it made sense they would have been associated then as well. It was one of the few things that actually fit together. Amy was looking at me expectantly. “He was at the funeral, Amy, with Alex. I guess it makes sense that Alex was there to pay his respects, given what you told me about him, but I don’t have any idea who that other man is.

  “Amy, did you notice that thing Alex handed to him?”

  “Not really. What did it look like through the binoculars?”

  “That’s the thing, I don’t know.” We watched as the second man pulled out of the driveway and Alex returned to his house. “Could you tell what they were saying?”

  “No. They were talking seriously about something. You could tell by the looks on their faces, but I haven’t a clue what they said. We’re just too far away. But trust me; I wouldn’t want to be any closer.”

  I agreed.

  . . .

  After several hours with no more activity on the part of Alex, Amy and I decided we weren’t cut out for long hours in the car. Besides needing a bathroom break, we were tired, and truth be told, we wanted to spend time with Noah.

  When we got home, Noah was tickled to see me. He looked hesitantly at Amy, as if he might know her, but he wasn’t sure. It was lunchtime, and by the time we had finishing making and eating our sandwiches, Noah had warmed up completely to Amy.

  Much as I wanted to play with Noah, I stepped back and let Amy take that role. They played peek-a-boo, pat-a-cake, and tickle games until both collapsed from laughter and exhaustion. While Amy climbed onto the couch for a nap, I took Noah upstairs for a nap of his own.

  BACK UPS

  During their naps, I took the opportunity to check my email. But when I went to the den, I remembered the loss from the day before - my computer was gone.

  My alternative was to traipse back upstairs to my bedroom. In the sitting area, which we had converted into an office for Paul, sat his laptop, undisturbed since his death. I sat down in his office chair and looked around me. Other than dusting surfaces, I hadn’t spent much time at Paul’s desk since he died. Everything around me whispered of Paul. I thought for a moment that I could almost catch a whiff of his cologne.

  I looked at the desk in front of me. Beside his computer sat pencils, pens, and an assortment of note pads. Some random post-it notes littered the top of his desk. It whispered of a life interrupted. I had not turned on the nearby lamp yet, and the light coming from my bedroom cast eerie shadows on the walls around me. I reached over quickly to switch on the lamp to chase away the ghosts.

  A little unnerved, I started up his computer and brought up my email. My inbox was stuffed to overflowing, but none of it was important. Thinking that this might be my computer from now on, I started to customize the computer deskt
op to my liking. I felt torn, as if I were moving on and erasing all traces of Paul. I decided to put the settings back to what they had been.

  I stood up, walked over to my nightstand, and pulled open the drawer. Inside was my backup flash drive. I always kept it there where I would have ready access to it in an emergency. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember the last time I had backed up my files, probably before Paul’s death. On the other hand, I didn’t think I had actually changed any files since then.

  I mindlessly copied my files onto the laptop. I thought of it as “the” laptop, neither Paul’s nor mine right now. I was going through the motions, but my heart wasn’t in any of it, and after the necessary responses, I turned everything off.

  Staying where I was, I put my head in my hands, wondering where to go from here. Fiddling with my thumb drive in my hands, I decided to put it in the top drawer of the desk in front of me. I opened the drawer and threw it in, then just as quickly shut it leaving my hand on the drawer handle. It felt like a betrayal to so casually use what used to be Paul’s. I didn’t like the look of his pencils and pens, daily accumulations that reminded me how much I missed him.

  I wondered when it would start getting easier. Feigning courage, I opened the drawer back up, slowly this time. It made me smile to see his odd assortment of paper clips, erasers, pencils, pens, and rubber bands. I remembered buying the drawer dividers for him to keep things neat and clean, and he had been quite compliant in keeping things sorted.

  My eyes narrowed as I stared at the little bin into which I had just thrown my flash drive. Paul’s back up drive was usually kept in that exact spot, but now the only one occupying that space was mine. Where was his?

  I started to rifle through the remaining drawers of his desk but came up empty handed. Turning around I scanned our bedroom for possible places to look. I went over to our bed, checked his nightstand, and then to the other side to check mine, but I again came up empty. What was going on?

 

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