Moon Over Alcatraz

by Patricia Yager Delagrange

  The intercom chirped and she smiled at Jessica. “Give your daddy a big kiss, Jessica,” she said then waved goodbye to her.

  I walked slowly down the hall, stopping along the way to show Jess the framed prints on the walls.

  “We’re almost at your daddy’s room, Jess,” I whispered. “He’s in this room right here.” I stopped next to the open doorway and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She hadn’t smiled since we’d arrived. I’d been telling her during the drive here that we were coming to visit her daddy but she was only nine months old and she didn’t understand what was happening. She’d recognize Edward but she wouldn’t know why he was here or why he wouldn’t talk to her.

  I crossed the threshold and rounded the corner, all the while patting her on the back and kissing her cheek to allay any fears she might have. Edward looked the same, freshly groomed and serene. The blinds were pulled up and the windows were open, a warm breeze filtered through the lace curtains. I was hoping Jessica’s serious expression wouldn’t turn into an open-mouthed wail.

  Turning my body so she could see him I said, “That’s your daddy, Jess. He’s asleep right now so we have to be quiet. We don’t want to wake him up.”

  She gazed over at him then leaned toward the bed away from my chest, thrusting her arms out to Edward. I gently placed her next to his side, moving his hand and putting it on her lap. I walked to the head of his bedside and observed her expression. She twisted her body, tried to crawl up next to his face, then sat on his chest and looked down at him.

  Her arms reached out and she patted his lips with her fingers. “Dah,” she said, tapping his face with her chubby hands.

  “Yes, your daddy, honey. He’s asleep.”

  “Dah,” she repeated then straightened her legs out behind her and laid her head down just below his neck. “Dah,” she said again.

  Tears edged toward the rims of my eyes but I didn’t want her to see me cry. Instead, I gave her a wide smile. “Daddy loves you, sweetheart.”

  She looked over at me than sat up and reached her arms out. I picked her up then bent over to give Edward a kiss on the lips. “Wave goodbye to Daddy, Jessica,” I told her. “We’ll come another day so you can see him, okay?”

  She smiled and waved bye-bye, still looking down at Edward’s face. I kissed her on the cheek and turned toward the door, hoping one day I’d be able to tell her that her father was no longer sleeping but had woken up and wanted to play with her.

  Chapter 57

  March—and spring was in the air. The grass was lush and green in the backyard, the roses were blooming, and the trees were putting on their bright green jackets. I loved this time of year in the Bay Area. The weather was mild, the afternoons sunny.

  It was Saturday and I’d just showered and dressed after my morning run with Cecilia, Jessica was playing in her bouncy seat in the front room when the doorbell chimed. Opening it, I saw…a very different-looking Weston. His mustache was fuller and grew down the sides of his mouth, connecting with the goatee on his chin. His hair was long and blown back off his face, reaching the nape of his neck where it curled up a little above his shirt collar. His cheeks were covered in a dark five o’clock shadow.

  He wore tattered old jeans, the holes and tears held together by frayed white threads. He had on his old scuffed biker boots, the tops slouched and wrinkled with wear.

  After taking this mental photograph during the few seconds after opening the door, my peripheral vision caught sight of a huge Harley Davidson motorcycle leaning on its kickstand in the driveway.

  “Hi, Brandy,” he said, smiling.

  My mouth hung half-open while I tried to incorporate this new image of my ex-husband with the one I was familiar with. This new package didn’t fit the picture I had of him the previous time I’d seen him. Then again, the last time we’d spoken I’d slammed the door in his wide-eyed face.

  “You look so different.” I glanced behind him at the Harley. “Do you own that? I mean, do you ride it?”

  He chuckled. “Of course I ride it. It’s new. I bought it yesterday.”

  I took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

  “To tell you the truth, I was driving down your street and stopped. I wanted to see how you’re doing. How’s Edward?”

  I blew out a puff of air. “Like you’re really interested, Weston?”

  “Please, Brandy. I’m trying my best here.” He glanced down for a second then looked up at me. “I really need to talk to you.”

  I opened the door and gestured him inside. “I have just a few minutes.”

  He nodded and answered with a smile then followed me into the front room where we each took a seat at opposite ends of the couch.

  “How’s Jessica doing?”

  “She’s fine.” I paused and squinted at him. “Weston, what are you doing here? I mean, really? Why did you come by?”

  He placed his right boot on top of his left knee and leaned back. “I moved out of Carol’s place and rented a house on the lagoon.”

  “You told me months ago you’d moved out of Carol’s place, don’t you remember?”

  “You’re right. I did. But after you kicked me out the front door on your birthday I ran into her, we got to talking…I thought I’d give it one last try. She was still in love with me. I was lonely without you—”

  “It didn’t work again with Carol so you thought you’d come here begging me to take you back,” I replied, my tone sarcastic.

  “I love you, Brandy. Don’t you understand? I never stopped loving you. I can’t make it work with anyone else because I don’t want anyone but you.” He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I’ll do anything to get you back. You name it, I’ll do it. What do I have to do to make you give me another chance, Bran?”

  I shook my head in frustration. “Weston, I knew you were stubborn but this is ridiculous.”

  “What’s ridiculous? Me loving you or you waiting for your boyfriend to wake up from a coma?”

  I stood up slowly and gave him a pitying look. “If I was the one in a coma, I’m sure you would have left me months ago, Weston. You know, when the chips are down you run the other way. I’ve learned that much.” I pointed at the front door and whispered, “Now get out of my house, and I don’t want you to ever come here again.” I paused and stared at him, my gaze unwavering. “Do you understand me this time?”

  He stood up and walked toward me but I refused to be intimidated by his size or the look of anger on his face. “When he never wakes up and you find yourself alone with his baby, don’t come crawling back to me, begging me to take your lonely ass back into my bed.”

  I closed my eyes and kept my fisted hands next to my sides, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my anger. I heard his boots clomp across the hardwood floor then the front door slammed. The Harley’s engine growled to life. He gunned the motorcycle and sped down the street.

  And I breathed a sigh of relief. What a jerk!

  Chapter 58

  I’d gotten into a routine visiting Edward—three times a week with Jessica and twice by myself. Stephanie took care of Jess while I zipped out to Pleasanton and it allowed me extra time to spend with him talking about my book or telling him about the neighbors, or reading to him from law books his colleagues had suggested which I’d picked up from his office. I’d also kept him up-to-date on the more noteworthy information concerning Alameda by reading aloud from the Times Star or Alameda Magazine.

  Jessica was now completely comfortable visiting the care facility. She’d sit on top of the bed next to Edward and play with the toys I always brought with us. She liked to pretend to read to him from her touchy-feely books. She’d grasp Edward’s fingers and place them on the soft fur representing an animal in the book, rubbing his hand along the material so he could feel it too.

  I took pictures of the two of them together each time we visited, making sure to document their time together while he was still in a coma. She too would enjoy seeing the photographs wh
en she was older, and be grateful she was able to spend time with him during the formative time of her life.

  Jessica had just begun to grasp the edges of tables around the house, pulling herself up to a standing position, and walking without my help was just around the corner. I videotaped her daily so Edward would have the visual history of her growing up. I imagined it was similar to couples where the wife or husband was overseas fighting a war. When they returned they wouldn’t feel so sad having missed all the important times in their children’s lives if they had photos to treasure.

  The signing at Borders had been changed to April since the shipment of my first book had been delayed until the end of March. I hadn’t participated in a book signing in at least three years but the store manager was excited about having a local author living in a small city willing to do a book signing, luring people from the immediate area to purchase books at his store.

  My big day approached. I was working with a woman whom Brent had referred. She was helping me update and revise my website, and run a readers’ contest. We were talking on the phone when there was a knock on the door.

  “Can I call you back, Pam?” I asked. “It shouldn’t be long. Just think about what the winner would want and I’ll phone you within the hour.” I put the phone down and went to the front door.

  “Cecilia, hey! Sorry but I was on the phone. What’s up?” I gestured her inside.

  She shook her head. “I can’t visit. I just wanted to make sure of the date for the signing. It was changed to April what?”

  “The sixteenth, the day after you file your taxes.”

  “The day we’re supposed to file our taxes you mean,” she said then rolled her eyes.

  “Uh-oh. Didn’t Perry hire someone to take your place to do the accounting?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, but it turns out she’s, well, not as meticulous as some of us. If you know what I mean.” I shook my head and grimaced. “I’ll have to file an extension and clean up the mess. Which brings me to why I came over. Could you babysit Amylynn this afternoon while I go over the books with Perry? I’ll be forever in your debt.”

  “Of course. Just let me call Pam back and I’ll give you a ring afterward and we can talk details.” She smiled and sighed with relief. “And you’re not indebted to me for anything, Cece. Remember you said you’d take care of Jessica while I’m at the book signing.”

  “You got it. But remember I’ll be there too. I can use a friend’s twin stroller. It’ll be a piece of cake.” She backed away from the door. “Call me,” she said, waving goodbye.

  An hour later when I finally said good-bye to Pam, I was exhausted though elated with the progress we’d made on my website. It looked classy, yet business-like, colorful, eye-catching, easy to navigate and she’d added a link for entering a contest for which the prize was a personal meeting with me this summer to talk about my career and how I’d found an agent.

  I was busier than I’d ever been in my life. What with having a ten-month-old child who was learning to walk, visiting Edward five times a week, writing my third book, and jogging every day with Cecilia—there wasn’t extra time to fit in much else.

  I’d already planned to buy a wedding dress for when Edward woke up. I’d never been the type of person to get strong irrational feelings about things—those gut-level emotions you knew were right, all the way to the core of your being. But when it came to Edward’s coming out of the coma, I absolutely knew it would happen someday—a knowledge that suffused my heart and soul like red dye in a glass of water.

  He was coming back to me, and I’d be fully prepared. I promised him a dress that would knock his socks off, and that was exactly what I’d do. I spoke with Cecilia about it and, knowing her as I did, her reaction was everything I expected. She was game anytime I gave her the word. So I planned on taking an entire day after the signing at Borders to have lunch and shop for a wedding dress in San Francisco.

  On the day of the signing I brought Jessica to Cecilia’s house at ten in the morning. The signing was scheduled for eleven a.m. and I wanted to make sure everything was set up and ready for customers when they announced over the intercom that Brandy Chambers was signing copies on the second floor of her novel Passing Through Brandiss. Coffee and pastries were on me.

  When I arrived at Borders in South Shore there was already a line upstairs near the lounge area next to the indoor Starbucks, and the manager informed me they were not waiting to purchase a cup of coffee. Apparently an author living in Alameda was a treat for the locals, and the queue went from one end of the back of the second floor near the cookbook section, wended past the chairs and tables for Starbucks customers, all the way to the table and one chair located in front of the balcony that looked out over the beach—where I’d be sitting.

  I couldn’t have been happier. Everything was set up and ready to go and it was only 10:15! Just as the manager pointed out where I’d be signing books for what looked like two or more hours, my phone vibrated in my jacket pocket. It was Brent.

  “It’s a twofer,” he announced.

  “What do you mean by a twofer?” I asked, smiling. I was already in a good mood about this signing and he always made me laugh no matter what.

  “When you get two things on one day.”

  I shook my head, knowing he was being purposely obtuse. But no one could spoil one second of this day for me and I tamped down my minor frustration and laughed out loud. “I don’t get it. Would you mind explaining, Brent? I have a book signing in less than forty-five minutes or did you forget?”

  I heard his exaggerated sigh. “Of course I didn’t forget. The book signing was the first thing you got today. Now I want to tell you about the second thing.”

  “So what’s the second part of the twofer?” I asked. I could never forget he was pitching my second book, but I’d been so busy, it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. “Did you talk to Mark Stefano?”

  “He’ll probably make you call him Stefano from now on. I swear he gets off on people thinking he belongs to the New York Mafia or something.”

  “Do you mean he and I will have a working relationship?” I mentally crossed my fingers and toes. A gut feeling this was good news crept up my spine, just like the one I had about Edward waking up.

  “Yup,” he spit out then laughed.

  “Oh my God. You’re a genius. I love you.” I was practically screaming and looked around for a place to have a more private conversation. I huddled in the corner next to a display of cookbooks and lowered my voice. “So Harper Collins wants to publish my second book?” I whispered.

  “Yes, they do,” he whispered back. “Hey, what am I lowering my voice for?” he yelled into the phone. “Let me call you back tomorrow and we can discuss your contract. Good luck with the book signing.” And he hung up.

  That was so Brent. But wow. I was on the proverbial “Cloud Nine.” I turned around to discover the line was longer than before and the manager quickly skittered his way over to me and asked if I could start signing earlier than scheduled. I happily agreed and took a seat at the table near the balcony just as someone made a second announcement about the signing.

  Two hours later, at one o’clock, I’d signed over three hundred books and took a moment to talk to Cecilia when she showed up with Amylynn and Jessica in a sleek-looking twin stroller. Both children were chewing on their favorite biscotti and drinking from sippy cups, and I had enough time to kiss them both and say hello to Cecilia before returning to my chair. I noticed the manager had placed new felt-tipped pens and a fresh cup of coffee on the table for me.

  My hand was cramping from signing my name so many times yet I was thrilled so many people, mostly women, had come to have me autograph their books. I looked up at the next person in line and thought she looked familiar. Only after she took off her sunglasses and handed me a copy of my book did I realize it was Carol Smith.

  “Hello, Brandy. I loved your book.”

  I noticed she was wearing an oversized smock and it
dawned on me. She must be pregnant. “When are you due?” I asked with a forced smile.

  “October twenty-third.”

  “So you’re almost four months along?”

  She nodded. “Weston’s so happy,” she smiled, rubbing the small bump underneath her shirt. “He said I must have gotten pregnant on Christmas Day.”

  I returned her fake smile with one of my own then signed the inside cover of the book and returned it to her.

  She opened it then read out loud, “Congratulations to a perfect couple.” She glanced down at me, her grin so wide I was sure her face hurt. “Thank you,” she gushed, turned and walked away.

  How lucky I was to have figured him out before it was too late. He’d obviously been with her right after pushing Edward down the stairs at the Christmas party. And he’d wanted me to take him back knowing Carol was carrying his child? What a schmuck!

  Cecilia was waiting for me when I returned to her house at two-thirty. “How’d it go?” she asked with a knowing smile.

  I plopped down on the couch, laid my head back and closed my eyes. “Better than I ever anticipated.”

  “You mentioned you talked with your agent but you didn’t have time to elaborate. Gimme the details please.”

  I looked across at her, lounging on the matching sofa. “Brent called me right before the signing. He wanted to give me some good news.”

  She quirked one eyebrow upward. “So? What’s the good news? Are you going to tell me or not?”

  I stood up and pumped my fist in the air. “Harper Collins wants to publish my second book!” I screamed.

  She jumped up off the couch, ran over to me and gave me a huge hug. We twirled around several times, both of us laughing.

  “Congratulations!” she yelled then lowered her voice. “The kids are both asleep in Amylynn’s bedroom.”

  We returned to our respective couches, smiling at each other.