ONCE UPON ANOTHER TIME

by McQuestion, Rosary

  Embarrassed for acting like a lunatic, I slowly took the folder from him. “I’m sorry, I…” Before I could get another word out of my mouth, he’d stomped off down the hall mumbling to himself.

  * * * *

  Walking into my office, I noticed the red message light on my phone flashing excitedly like a panting puppy. All keyed up at the sight of his master walking through the door.

  While tossing my black leather purse and briefcase on the credenza, I read the headline of the Boston Globe spread open to page two on my desk, “Slumlord Charged with Obstructing Justice.” A bright yellow sticky note in Melanie’s handwriting was stuck under the headline. “You’ll never guess whose face is under here,” she wrote.

  I sat at my desk, peeled the sticky note off the newspaper, and saw a photo of a sixtyish looking man with a jutting brow, prizefighter’s nose, and receding gray hairline, whose scowl resembled an angry bull. Below the photo was the name Benjamin Solomon--Jeb’s landlord.

  It was a Zen moment, while reading that Solomon had spent a night in custody after police charged him with falsifying smoke detector records the day after a house fire had sent six people to the hospital. Obstructing justice is an indictable offense that could land him behind bars for a long time. Plus, he’d racked up a staggering amount of violations from the Boston fire inspectors and courts, and was under investigation for possible unlawful eviction of several families from his rent-stabilized apartment buildings.

  There was my “ah ha” moment. The apartment house Jeb lived in was rent stabilized, which meant this would be the easiest case I’d ever win.

  “Aubrey, you got a minute to talk?” asked Laura as she strolled into my office.

  “Sure.” I tossed the newspaper aside and leaned back in my chair.

  She sat down in the chair facing me and crossed her legs. “It’s about David,” she said, while staring down at her lap.

  “I’ve noticed you seemed preoccupied lately. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but things have felt a little off kilter lately.”

  “Like what?”

  Laura blew out a breath of frustration, while her gaze now focused on the ceiling. “We’ve been seeing each other for five months. In all that time, we’ve stayed at his penthouse only a few times,” she said as her eyes lowered and met mine. “He always ends up staying at my house.”

  “What difference does it make where you and he end up? He’s with you.”

  “Yeah, but even then, he rarely stays the night.”

  “You know, there are a lot of people who’d just rather sleep in their own beds, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, the man showers you with gifts. He buys you expensive jewelry, takes you to fancy restaurants, sends huge bouquets of flowers, and he just surprised you with a dreamy Cape Cod getaway. What more do you want?”

  Laura shrugged her shoulders. “I want what you have. Gavin treats you special. He doesn’t throw materialistic things at you. He takes time to be with you, and talks to you and just hangs out. With David, I feel as if I’m always being rushed.”

  “Listen, not every man is the same. Remember when I discussed with you how I felt about Matt always working. It made me feel as if his job was more important than I was. And you were the one who pointed out the ways in which he loved me--how we loved each other. No relationship is perfect. We all have different levels of anxiety and self-doubt. Before Gavin walked into my life, I’d dated some nice and not so nice guys. The fact is, every one of them left me, and you know why? Because I doubted myself.”

  Laura gazed out toward the window and sighed deeply. “Do you think I’m developing some kind of insecurity?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve never seen you try this hard before. Maybe you’re falling in love with David and it’s causing you to feel vulnerable. Sometimes love can be scary.”

  Ashley knocked on the door. I waved her in.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she tucked a curtain of long straight hair behind her ear to reveal a delicate pearl earring. “Laura, Mr. Fendworth is looking for you.”

  “Please let him know I’ll be right there. Thank you.”

  “So,” I said, “do I think you’re acting insecure? Absolutely not. I think you’re just a little scared.”

  “Hmm, that is an interesting thought,” said Laura as she rose from the chair. “Thanks. Talk to you later.” Her monotone reply gave speculation that she hadn’t bought into what I had said.

  I glanced down at the newspaper on my desk. The last thing Solomon needed was an investigation into the eviction against Jeb. My gut told me something was up with him, and as usual, I was right.

  I looked at the photograph of Nicholas sitting at the corner of my desk. I’d packed a prepaid cell phone for him to take to camp, so he could call me every evening to say goodnight. I knew he’d get homesick, even when he said he wouldn’t.

  My intuition always seemed to be right on, so why had I tried to ignore my gut feeling that there was an odd connection between Gavin and Matt?

  * * * *

  Across the Providence skyline, the setting sun reflected off the buildings on Kennedy Plaza. The sound of the loud gong heralding the beginning of the music for the evening and the start of the WaterFire show reverberated throughout WaterPlace, a four-acre park in the heart of downtown tucked beneath Rhode Island's State House. Winding cobblestone promenades, a large fountain, beautiful pavilion, and old world arched Venetian bridges that crossed over the Providence and Woonasquatucket Rivers running through the City, was like a taste of Venice in Providence.

  The evening took on a fantasy like feel, as Gavin and I stood under an art constellation of one hundred glowing blue stars suspended from a grove of trees with lush-leafed branches. Each star in the art constellation named, Starry, Starry Night, had white ribbons with written wishes that hung from each point like tails of a kite, while hundreds of luminary candle lanterns flickering on the lawn created a fairytale-like setting.

  We’d both written our wishes on the white ribbons and agreed to keep them secret, lest our wish on a star wouldn’t come true. Mine was that Gavin would stay in my life and Nicholas’s for a long time.

  Why had I not dared to wish for forever?

  As Gavin looked for just the right star to hang the ribbons on, I wondered how I was supposed to face down my fears or know with dead rock certainty that if I gave my heart it wouldn’t get broken for a second time. I thought back to Matt’s collection, a red bucket filled with action figures he’d bought at a garage sale. Although imperfect, he treasured the one-armed Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and faceless Batman just the same.

  Learn to trust, I told myself.

  I had so many things to be thankful for with Gavin. He actually looked at me when I talked to him, and how engaging he was in conversation, his interaction with Nicholas, not grand romantic gestures, just both of us being considerate of one another. However, the very tall muscled man with chiseled cheekbones, Roman nose, dark wavy Dr. McDreamy hair, and eyes as blue as the illuminated stars in the trees above was so much more.

  For years, it seemed as if I’d lain in a cold metal bucket of broken hearts and self-imposed imperfections. Somehow, this man with shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms and the pocket on his loose khaki shorts bulging with car keys, a wallet and cell phone, had pulled me from that bucket. As Gavin hung each ribbon on different points of one star, I felt my soul connect with his.

  Calm prevailed as we walked hand-in-hand through the park snaking our way through thousands of people. World music heard throughout from the many speakers mounted on the walls along the river, mixed with the performance of a small jazz band.

  Thousands of people skirted the river-walks and cobblestone pathways, while scads more lined the Venetian-like bridges. A shimmering ribbon of bonfires glowed down the center of Woonasquatucket River, while sounds of crackling wood mixed with the lingering minor chord from a Chopin nocturne gave an ethereal feel to the moment.


  We strolled along the banks of the river sprinkled with performers and artists. Groups of children surrounded a man folding origami, while waiting for a paper swan. Costumed people dressed as gargoyles, mystics, a Zeus and two topiaries stood watch, while a green mermaid pulled her tail along the walkway trying to keep up with the fairy and butterfly walking beside her.

  “I have a surprise,” said Gavin, as we reached the landing dock for gondola rides.

  “You’re taking me on a gondola ride?” my voice squeaked.

  He kissed the back of my hand, and a million clichés of princes and knights in shining armor popped into my head as we waited in line.

  “I’ve never taken anyone on a gondola ride. You’re my first,” he said. His eyes were all enthralling, my heart felt as if it’d leapt into outer space like a shuttle orbiting earth.

  “Touché,” I said. “All the times I’ve come to WaterFire, I’ve never been on a gondola ride.”

  Gavin and I climbed into a thirty-six-foot black gondola lined with gold trim. The gondolier told us it had been authentically constructed and shipped from Venice, as we each gladly accepted a glass of red wine for our trip down the river. Crackling fires released aromatic scents of blazing cedar and pine and sent them swirling around our heads, while the gondolier effortlessly steered the flat-bottomed Venetian rowing boat.

  “So what do you think of my surprise?” Gavin asked, while his lips grazed my ear.

  “I think you’re the most romantic man on the planet.” I gave his hand a squeeze, while mesmerized by his eyes that looked silver blue in the dimness of the evening. My body tingled, as he slipped a strong arm around my waist and pulled me close to him.

  Straight ahead of us, the river looked magnificent with tall, shooting flames from the one hundred or so braziers that rode the waters.

  “How’s Nicholas doing at camp?” asked Gavin.

  “Better than I’d ever done. I have a feeling he’s going to want a teepee when he gets home. That’s all he talks about. Oh, and he loves art. The youth counselor asked the children to choose something from nature to draw, but it had to represent their feelings about their parents. Guess what Nicholas drew?”

  “Hmm, let me see.” Gavin pulled at his chin and stared up at the dark velvety sky, as if the answer was written somewhere on the stars. “I’d say he drew a rainbow.”

  “What? How did you--Gavin Donnelly, you saw it lying on my desk.” I gave him a playful shove.

  Gavin showed a wide grin. “I did. I also noticed what he wrote at the bottom. ‘Rainbows make people feel happy.’ I think everything about you is like a rainbow.”

  “Oh stop, you’re making me blush,” I giggled.

  “Have you ever thought about having more kids?”

  His question took me by surprise. “Um, not now. That would require having a husband. How about you, ever thought of having any in the future?”

  “Yeah, I love kids. Why do you think I coach fourteen, nine to eleven-year-olds in playing basketball at the youth club every Wednesday after work?”

  “I should have known it wasn’t because you were trying to keep in shape.”

  I leaned into his neck, talking into his shirt collar. “This is so wonderful of you to bring me here tonight.” The clean aloe scent of his skin mixed with the citrus smell of his shampoo was irresistible.

  “I knew you’d like it.”

  I looked up at him. “And you were right,” I said as I followed his eyes down. “Are you looking down my blouse?” I whispered, not wanting the gondolier to hear.

  “Well, there’s all that red lace right there,” he whispered back while circling his finger in the air and pointing to my bra.

  “Lace is good?”

  “Ah, yeah,” he said, and brushed the back of his fingers over my cheek, while the gondolier navigated the boat down the river past a cityscape of tall, lighted buildings.

  “When you first saw your husband did you know he was the one?”

  I felt stunned for a moment and looked at him curiously. “That’s an odd question. Why do you want to know?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Just wondering.”

  I paused, and then nodded. “When I look back on it, I believe I did.”

  It was an odd moment, when out of the blue his mouth found mine, his lips so soft. When we broke from our kiss, he looked as dazed as I felt. As the glow from the huge, crackling fires reflected across our faces, we gazed into each other’s eyes like star struck teenagers. He kissed my forehead and pulled me close. I rested my head on his shoulder and laid my arm across his chest.

  Only once before was I able to see someone’s soul through their eyes and feel the longing, the ache and the kind of hunger that makes you realize you’ve finally found that one in a million person. That person who touches your soul and makes you feel as if they are the very air you breathe, a feeling of love so great that it tells your heart you couldn’t possibly love anyone more than you love that one person.

  That’s what I felt for Gavin that evening and knew in my heart he felt the same for me. Maybe it was the reflections of the torched flames as they sambaed over the dark rippling waters, or the primitive music and ancient scents that filled the air, but the night truly did feel ethereal.

  “Whoa,” said Gavin all of a sudden, as he grabbed the side of the gondola to steady himself.

  I quickly lifted my head off his shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

  He had a faraway look in his eyes. “I don’t know. I felt a little dizzy.”

  I put my hand to his forehead. “Your skin feels clammy.”

  “This is crazy,” he said.

  “What’s crazy?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it. It was as if a memory just flashed in my head.” He ran a hand through his hair.”

  “A memory of something bad?”

  “No, I was navigating a sailboat. The sky was overcast, the water was choppy, but I had made it to the pier.”

  “Is this a recent sailing experience or one you had long ago?”

  “That’s the crazy part. I’ve never been on a sailboat, and I wouldn’t know the first thing about sailing one, but I saw myself.”

  “I don’t understand. When you say you had a memory, do you mean it was a déjà vu thing because we’re in a boat right now on water?”

  “No. It was a memory like I had actually lived it long ago. I could even see the name written on the side of the boat. It was Love Struck.”

  My breath stalled in my chest, as my lips fell open, his words hit alongside my head, struggling to get through to my brain. Was Gavin like me? Did he have a psychic gene that ran in his family? I saw no other explanation for how he could have known the name of the sailboat Matt and I once had.

  “Has this ever happened to you before?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Goose bumps scampered over my arms. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve had places or things seem familiar to me and I never gave it much thought. But that very first time I saw you at the restaurant, and thought I knew you from somewhere, that was different. That was like tonight, more like a memory. I don’t know,” he said, as he shook his head, “you’re probably right. It’s just a déjà vu experience, and I’m getting the scene mixed up with our gondola ride.”

  “Probably,” I said softly, while pondering the fact that I didn’t know what to think at that moment. Ghosts, psychic phenomenon, and other bizarre things that had happened in my life were beginning to make me feel as if I were stuck in some kind of Stephen King movie.

  Gavin took in a deep breath. “Sorry, this was supposed to be a romantic date. I think I just blew it.” An apologetic smile lit his face.

  “No, the night is perfect,” I said, as I smiled at him and ran a finger over his lips. Had I not experienced unexpected strange phenomenon occurring in my own life, I might have brushed off what had happened. However, as I gazed at the brass trimmings on the boat that gleamed as we glided past the fires, th
e thought crossed my mind that maybe Matt wasn’t truly gone, but instead lost between two worlds.

  * * * *

  Clothes trailed up the stairs, down the hall, and into the bedroom. Clothes were everywhere except on our bodies, as Gavin and I tumbled onto my bed in our underwear. His strong, muscular body on top of mine felt familiar in an odd kind of way. His mouth on my lips had the heat of a branding iron and all I could think about was how much I wanted him, how much I needed him. My head swirled with unadulterated passion, as we lay on our sides, face to face, his arm around my lower back, my leg wrapped around his thigh like a person lost at sea holding tight to a life raft. My body felt as if it had melded with his.

  Working his way down from kissing my lips to nibbling my ear, my neck, I found myself pretending he was Matt. After seven years of starving for his touch, I savored every morsel of excitement and passion feeling as if we were somehow making love the way we used to long ago. Crazy, I thought, as I ran my hands through Gavin’s hair, thinking how in love I was with him, and at the same time, how in love I’d always been with Matt. I didn’t have an explanation for how it could be possible, but that night I truly felt an invisible thread somehow bound the two loves of my life.

  “You’re stunningly beautiful and sexy in red,” said Gavin while slipping a finger under my bra strap to slip it off my shoulder. As kisses smoldered against my neck, I thanked my lucky stars that I’d gone to Victoria’s Secret the day before. Although liposuction for my stomach would have been a better option, they didn’t offer it at the mall. Therefore, I settled for a bikini wax, which I could truthfully say was more painful than childbirth.

  I caught a glimpse of my lacy red panties that matched my bra . There wasn’t enough material in my panties to make an eye patch let alone restrain my stomach from bulging over the low cut band of lace. What was I thinking!

  An image of Vanessa’s taunt stomach, big firm breasts and smooth, shapely thighs flashed in my head. I cringed at the comparison of my lumpy body. At least I’d had the sense to turn the dimmer lights down to one click away from being completely off to conceal my puckering thighs.