by Maria Geraci
“Really? Because from where I sit, it doesn’t look so fine. I’ve never met two people more meant for each other than the two of you and if you don’t know what you have then…” Then what? “Then you don’t deserve one another!”
For a second, no one said anything. It emboldened Allie to go on. She reached out and touched Zeke on the arm. “Remember what an asshole Dad was? Is that the kind of relationship you want to have with your daughter? One based on fear?”
Instantly, Allie realized it was the wrong thing to say.
Zeke’s entire face changed. He laughed, short and bitter sounding. “Who made you parent of the year? Yesterday you couldn’t even drive because your license was suspended. Get your own life together before you come around here preaching crap you know nothing about.”
Allie winced. She should have never compared her brother to that worthless sack of nothing that had been their father. “I’m sorry, you’re right. You’re nothing like Dad—”
“Damn straight I’m not.”
Tom stepped in between them. “I think we should all go home before we start saying things we’re going to regret.”
“Yeah? Thanks for the advice, buddy. Here’s something I definitely know I’m not going to regret.” Zeke made a fist and punched Tom in the face, landing him flat on the ground.
“Zeke!” Allie yelled. “Have you gone crazy?” She helped Tom get up. Blood squirted from his nose and down his T-shirt. Oh God. Why did there have to be blood?
“I’ve been waiting twelve years to do that.” Zeke rubbed his knuckles. He smiled for the first time tonight. “Damn if that didn’t feel good.”
“Are you all right?” Allie asked Tom.
He pulled up the edge of his shirt to staunch the blood dripping down his nose. “I’ll live.” He looked at Zeke. “I probably had that coming. But don’t hit me again. Got it?”
“Got it,” Zeke said calmly.
The two men stared at each other for a second as if they’d come to some sort of understanding. Good. Glad they got that settled, but Allie would never understand the male psyche.
“Give me your keys to the truck. I’ll drive you home,” Allie said.
“How are you getting back to the house?” Zeke said.
“I’ll figure something out.”
Zeke wisely kept his mouth shut.
After a few long seconds, Mimi broke the silence. “Thank you for everything, Tom. Even though he might not act like it, Zeke and I appreciate your help.” She ignored her husband’s glare and gave Allie a weak smile. “So I’ll see you later tonight?”
Allie nodded, then she remembered the promise she’d given Jordan’s mother. “Can you give Claire a message? While she still has a cell phone in her possession can you tell her to call her friend Jordan? Her mom’s worried about her and wants her to go home.”
“Will do,” Zeke said. He followed Mimi to the minivan and they took off down the road leaving Tom and Allie alone.
“Are you okay?” Tom asked.
“Me? I’m not the one who just got pulverized by my brother.”
“I mean, are you okay with this?” He pointed to his nose. Blood oozed down his chin.
“Oh, yeah, I’m…okay. Just don’t go hemorrhaging on me or anything. Then I can’t make any promises.” She went to his truck hoping to find a rag or an extra set of clothes to act as a pressure bandage. As usual, Tom’s truck was spotless. “Why can’t you be like most guys and have a messy car?” she muttered.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Take off your shirt,” Allie said.
“Here? Now?” he joked. “I’ll take mine off if you take off yours.” But there was no heat behind his words.
“Pretty brave talk now that my brother’s gone.”
Despite the swelling that was beginning to form, he managed a smile. He slipped off his jacket and pulled his T-shirt over his head and handed it to her. Allie wadded it up in a tight ball and placed it against his nose. She stood back and sighed. The blood was making her a little dizzy, but a shirtless Tom Donalan was just too pretty a sight to not admire. “We better put some ice on that before the swelling gets too bad.”
*~*~*
She drove the truck to his place but before she could get out, Tom opened his door. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He returned a few minutes later wearing a clean T-shirt and holding a frozen bag of peas against his nose. He motioned for her to scoot over into the passenger seat. “I can drive now.”
“Are you sure?” Allie gulped. Tom was right. What was she thinking? That she’d stay the night again? He drove her back to her brother’s house in silence and parked the car in the driveway.
More déjà vu. Just five nights ago they’d made this same drive. Parked in this same space “Have a safe trip home, Allie.”
It was a dismissal. A polite one to be sure, but one nevertheless. They’d already said their goodbyes. It wasn’t fair to him to drag things out any longer. But there was something Allie needed to know.
“Why did you let Zeke hit you?” she asked. “And why on earth didn’t you hit him back?”
“Hit him back?” He said it as if the idea had never occurred to him. “For the record, I didn’t let him hit me. He took me by surprise, but I would never have hit him back.”
“Why not?”
He turned and stared at her. “Because he’s your brother and—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s just say, he’s right. I deserved it.” He paused a moment. “I’ve thought about what you said last night. And you’re right. I did have a responsibility to you.”
Allie stilled. “Tom—”
“Let me finish. I told you before that looking at you made me think of a time in my life that I wasn’t so proud of. But…that was only partially true. Looking at you makes me think of what my life could have been like if I hadn’t screwed up. Dad taught me early on that a man always pays for his mistakes. I thought by marrying Lauren, I was doing the right thing. But maybe what I did was the wrong thing. I don’t know.”
“I think you did the right thing,” she said softly, surprising both of them. “Henry is terrific, and who knows, Tom? You and I would have probably broken up eventually. That kind of situation would have put a lot of pressure on our relationship.”
He nodded slowly. “It wasn’t true, when I said I hadn’t thought about you these past twelve years. I thought about you a lot, Allie. But it always made me feel so damn guilty, so I had to shove it away. Compartmentalize it someplace where it wouldn’t interfere with the rest of my life. I thought it would be easy for you to get over me. I was a world class dick. It never occurred to me… The thing is, if it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t just you. My heart broke that night, too.”
If it made her feel any better? Maybe it should have, but it didn’t. It just made her sad all over again. But this time, anger didn’t follow. This time, she wanted to reach out and comfort him and tell him…
“Thank you, for everything,” she said instead. Then she opened the door and ran inside the house.
Allie packed up her bag and tossed it into the back seat of her VW bug. She said goodbye to Zeke and Mimi. Claire (thankfully) hugged Allie and made her promise to come back soon. Things were strained. No doubt about it. But there wasn’t anything she could do about that. She’d said her piece last night. It was up to Mimi and Zeke to fix things.
She took a right on Ocean Avenue. Leaving Whispering Bay always made her feel a little nostalgic. She couldn’t help wondering what she’d encounter the next time she came back for a visit. Would she run into Tom again? Would Mimi and Zeke still be together? How would Claire feel if her parents split up? Or Cameron? A part of her didn’t feel right leaving this time. There were too many unanswered questions. Too much woo-woo out in the universe. But what could she do to change anything? She had a life back in Tampa. Maybe it wasn’t a big life. But it was her life and it was high time to get back to it.
She stopped at The Bistro by the Beach to gra
b a cup of coffee. As usual, it was hopping. Saturday morning meant tourists, which meant business. Allie ordered a coffee and a bagel and was on her way out the door when she spotted Roger sitting alone at a table near the back window overlooking the water. It was a beautiful day. Clear, crisp and still cool. Tampa could wait a few minutes longer.
“Mind if I have this seat?” she asked, pointing to an empty chair.
“I thought you’d already left town.”
Knowing Roger, she took that as a yes, so she sat down and arranged her food on the table. “Nah, I had to find out who Concerned Citizen was first.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for her to go on.
So Allie told him how it had been none other than Lauren Donalan who’d written that infamous letter, and how she and Mimi had tried to fix Allie up with Tom, and how Lauren had Buela’s old record player in her shop. If Roger found any part of the story incredulous, he didn’t show it.
“That’s one hell of a dating service,” he mused.
“Agreed.” Allie took a bite of her bagel. “How did those pictures turn out? The ones you took of the demolition?”
To her surprise, Roger reached into a satchel to produce a bundle of real life photos. “Thought you were going to see them on some digital device, huh?” he said, seeing her reaction. “I developed these myself.”
Allie flipped through the pictures. There was a sadness about them. An ethereal quality that could only be captured by an artist. And that’s what Roger was, she concluded. A real honest to goodness artist. She remembered the pictures Betty Jean had shown her the day she’d visited the Whispering Bay Gazette. She’d been drawn to those pictures and she was certain other people would be, too. The pictures were in her satchel, along with all the notes she’d taken about the senior center and the ghost story that never was.
An idea suddenly occurred to her. “Roger? Do you think you might be willing to sell these? To the right medium, of course.”
“And that would be?”
“Florida! magazine. I was thinking…maybe the article I’m supposed to write isn’t about a ghost haunting the old senior center, but about the building itself. You know, how it started off as this regular house for a regular family, and then how it was donated to the city and…” She could hear the excitement in her own voice, “What it meant to the people who spent time there and the friendships that developed and those special friendships that became something more.”
He nodded. “Gus and Viola.”
Her heart began to race, the same way it did whenever she got an idea for a story.
“I’ve got more pictures. Photos of the place in its heyday. I showed you them when you were at the house. Remember? You could use those, as well. And I could help you with the article. We could interview old Earl, he’s living out in Mexico Beach. We could get some good stories from him. Hell, we could get lots of good stories and I know just who to interview, too.”
“You mean it? You’d help me? I could give you a byline,” she said.
“Nah. Just credits with the photos is what I’d want.”
“Oh my God,” Allie said, “this could so work. But…dang it, I already said goodbye to Mimi and Zeke and I promised my manager at The Blue Monkey I’d swing by today to fill out my schedule for next week.”
“The Blue Monkey?”
“It’s a restaurant in Tampa. I waitress there for extra money,” she admitted.
“You a journalist or a waitress?”
“A journalist who clearly likes to eat,” Allie said, motioning to her empty plate.
He nodded like he understood, then glanced meaningfully toward the busy counter. “Seems to me you could waitress anywhere, though.”
He had a point. But she was reluctant to stay in town longer. For one thing, Mimi and Zeke needed some family privacy. It was like Roger could read her mind.
“Since we’re going to work real intensive-like on this piece, it might be easier if you just stayed at my place. I got a big old guest room that only Phoebe uses from time to time, but it’s empty now and yours if you want it.” He looked away, as if suddenly shy.
Allie glanced down at her coffee. She was touched by Roger’s gesture but it was too much. She hated inconveniencing him. He was a photo journalist. And a highly experienced one, at that. He was more than likely out of Allie’s league. But at the same time she didn’t think he was offering strictly out of charity. Tom thought Roger was a lonely old man looking for a cause. Well, she was certainly a cause, all right. Maybe he needed her just as much as she needed him.
“I accept.” She leaped from her chair to give Roger a hug. “You’re wonderful, do you know that?”
“On one condition,” he added gruffly, disentangling himself from her arms.
“Anything.”
“You can’t fall in love with me.” He shrugged. “Because that’s what usually happens when two people work together under these kinds of intense circumstances.”
“Too late,” Allie said with a grin. “I already have.”
*~*~*
Roger finished his breakfast then gave her a spare key to the house and told her he’d meet her back at his place. “Be ready to work harder than you’ve ever worked before,” he warned.
“Absolutely,” she said, saluting him.
She waited a few minutes after he left, then texted Emma with an update on the article.
A piece on the senior center itself? She texted back.
Allie hesitated a moment. She shouldn’t read anything into a text but she couldn’t help but feel that Emma seemed disappointed. She thought back to her Perky the Duck article. If she had outlined that piece ahead of time, instead of simply writing it, would Emma have been excited?
I’m going to write an article about a duck that was supposed to be dead, but when the hunter’s wife opened the freezer and found it alive, she took it to the animal rescue and guess what? Now it’s alive!
Ha! Emma would have probably laughed in her face and told her to try to sell it to the National Enquirer. Instead, Allie had gone ahead and written the piece and the rest was history. She’d trusted her instincts then. Roger was right. She needed to trust her instincts again.
I promise you, it’ll work. Allie texted.
Then go for it. Emma texted back.
Next, she called Jen. “Hey, something’s come up and I’m going to stay up here a little longer.”
“How much longer?” Jen asked.
“Probably at least a week. Or maybe two.”
“Oh, I was going to save this for later, but Sean’s moved in some more of his stuff.”
“How much is some more?”
Jen laughed nervously. “All of it, to be exact. I didn’t think you’d mind since you’re back home in Whispering Pines.”
“It’s Whispering—oh, never mind. Jen…do you think Sean wants to move in permanently?”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“You know the saying, two’s company, three’s a crowd.”
“I thought three was a ménage a trois.”
Allie got something stuck in her throat. “Well, yeah, it’s that, too. The thing is…I’m totally willing to give up my lease if Sean wants it.”
“Damn, that’s nice of you, Allie. You sure you wouldn’t mind? I know the two of us have been moving kind of fast, but when you know, you just know.”
“Absolutely,” Allie said. And she meant it. Sean and Jen were perfect for one another in that way that two people who seem so totally un-perfect for anyone else, could be. There’s someone for everyone, Buela used to say.
“So when can you move your stuff out?” Jen asked.
“I’m working on a piece right now, but maybe sometime later next week?”
“Great. Um, I hate to ask, but can you cover your portion of next month’s rent? Just till we make the lease switch official. Because after all, you do owe it.”
*~*~*
Allie slowed down as she approached the senior center, or rather,
what was left of it. Despite the fact it was a Saturday, there appeared to be a small construction crew on site. More than likely making up for all the time they’d lost this past week. Big yellow cranes moved the rubble into oversized trash receptacles. Out with the old and in with the new. Progress was coming to Whispering Bay and Tom would be a big part of it.
She got out of her car. Like before, Tom was easy to single out. At least, for her he was. A lump formed in her throat. He looked so handsome. So in charge. How was she going to stay in town and not want to see him? Not want to talk to him? It didn’t feel right that the two of them would be back in Whispering Bay and not be a part of each other’s lives. She thought about Roger and how he was taking a leap of faith to work on this project with her.
Maybe it was time she took her own leap of faith.
Tom spotted her and jogged over to her side. He took off his hard hat and ran a hand through his scalp. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”
“I changed my mind,” she said quickly, before she chickened out. “I wanted you to hear from me that I’m going to be staying in town.”
There was a spark of hope in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. “For how long?”
“A few weeks, probably. Or maybe....I don’t know, forever?”
Before he could respond one of the crew members waved Tom over to the work trailer. “Hey, Tom, can you come take a look at this?” It was Hard Hat. He spotted Allie and his face split into a grin. “God Almighty, it’s the Flaky Biscuit. Hey!” He shouted, “See that?” He pointed to where the building had once stood. “It’s all gone! What do you think about that? Huh?”
“I take it he doesn’t like me,” she whispered to Tom. She smiled and waved to Hard Hat. “Thank you for your help the other day, Keith! I really appreciate it!”
Hard Hat frowned, like he was confused by her friendliness.
Tom grinned. “Oh, it’s not that he doesn’t like you. He thinks you’re, um…interesting.”
“Right.”
Tom turned serious again. “So, what do you mean maybe forever?”
She found herself shuffling from foot to foot. Any second now, she’d start her babbling. “The thing is, I think I might have a story after all. I’m going to work on it with Roger Van Cleave. Actually, I’m going to move in with him.”
