“Mom . . .”
“Go on, get out of here. Don’t come back either. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
Tears rolled down Helen’s cheeks. “I tried to love you, Mom. I really did I wanted to hug you and have you kiss me and tell me one day things would get better. I knew they wouldn’t, but I hoped. A lie would have been better than nothing. All I ever wanted was to belong to you. You acted like I was some stray you picked up off the street. You never called me sweetie or honey or dear. It was always, hey, kid. I’m going. I’ll send you my address in case you ever need me.”
“Yeah, right. Go on, get out of here.”
Helen jerked upright. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and headed for the kitchen, where she opened a bottle of soda.
She hated thinking about the past, hated thinking about her mother. If there was at least one good memory, maybe she would feel better. A moment later she was lost in thought again as she relived the moment in time when she finally received her BA degree.
“Helen Stanley.” The dean’s voice rang clear and true. Helen accepted the rolled-up diploma, smiled for the photographer, and made her way back to take her position next to her classmates.
A whole new world awaited her.
A smaller, nicer furnished apartment, a new job in a graphics-design firm, and then Daniel Ward were her rewards for six long years of hard work and studying.
It was all so long ago. A different time, a different life. She could barely remember the worn, cozy, comfortable apartment with the bamboo blinds on the windows and the rows and rows of green plants she’d tucked into corners. The firm she’d worked for was wonderful, the people outgoing and friendly. She was just getting to know them when Daniel came into her life and turned it upside down.
Helen gulped at the cold soda. She didn’t want to think about Daniel Ward. Daniel Ward was dangerous to her mental stability. She shook her head to clear away her negative thoughts. “I have a new life now. A second chance. You’re just someone I used to know, Daniel.”
Helen slipped between the covers and said the short prayer she said every night. The little dog listened to the words, her head between her paws.
The moment Helen’s breathing evened out, the little dog inched closer and placed one paw on her mistress’s shoulder, but not before her eyes pierced the semidarkness. Satisfied, she, too, closed her eyes and was asleep within seconds.
Helen dusted her hands dramatically. “We are going to eat like queens tonight, Lucie. Roast chicken with all the trimmings. I can’t believe we’re finally on a work schedule that gives me some free time, and it only took us nine weeks. It’s spring and the world is looking really good right now. The April showers really did bring out all the May flowers. Our little balcony looks like a rainbow.”
Lucie trotted off to the corner of the room where she kept her stash of toys to return with a long braided rope. It was time to play. Helen dropped to the floor and played tug-of-war with the little dog, who growled ferociously. Helen rolled and romped, laughing and tickling the terrier. It was a special time of day for them both. “Okay, okay, I give up. You won!” Lucie growled playfully.
A moment later Helen froze in her tracks when the doorbell sounded. An alien sound, a sound she’d only heard once in the ten weeks since she’d moved in. She wasn’t even sure if it had rung that first time because she had been sitting on the stoop waiting for the computer technician to hook up the new computer. Lucie raced to the door, her tail between her legs as she growled fiercely.
Helen walked to the door, her shoulders stiff, her eyes wide with alarm. She was relieved to see all three locks in place. Did she dare risk looking in the peephole? What if another eye on the outside was glued to it? She took a deep breath. “Who is it?”
“Sam Tolliver. I’m your neighbor in 6-B. I was wondering if I could borrow some dog food.”
Open the door? Don’t open the door? Boots would say open it. “Just a minute, Mr. Tolliver.” Her hands were shaking so badly, she immediately jammed them into her jeans pockets as soon as she undid the bolts and opened the door. Lucie hugged her ankles, the hair on the back of her neck on end. “Come in, Mr. Tolliver.”
“Sam. Call me Sam. Only my students call me Mr. Tolliver. And you’re Nancy Baker.”
“How . . . how do you know that?”
Tolliver looked perplexed for a moment. “Your name is on your mailbox and your mailbox is next to mine. I’ve been meaning to come over and introduce myself and maybe bring you a welcoming cake or something, but I don’t know how to bake, and the bakery is out of the way. Finals at school, you know. You need to help me out a little here. I feel like I’m intruding and talking to the wall. You look . . . petrified. Would you like me to leave the door open?”
Her first one-on-one encounter in the privacy of her home. With a man. Boots would say lighten up, you knew it would happen. She tried to relax. “No, it’s. not necessary to leave the door open. Would you like wet or dry dog food?”
“Max will eat anything. I’ll replace it on Saturday if that’s okay with you. I like what you did with the place. When Jim lived here he had a roll-out bed, two stools, and a futon. He was the guy that had the apartment before you. It’s homey. Maybe sometime you’d like to take a crack at my place. Green plants make all the difference and all those . . . What do you call that stuff?” he asked, pointing to her array of knickknacks.
In spite of herself, Helen smiled. “Flea-market junk. How about a little of both?”
“Huh?”
“Dog food. A little of both.”
“Yeah, sure. Something smells really good in here.”
Helen smiled again. “Roast chicken. You’re smelling the stuffing.”
“Stuffing is for Thanksgiving. You’re making stuffing in May in the middle of the week?”
“Yes.” Boots was going to approve of this encounter. Big-time. “Don’t you cook?”
“Eggs. I usually pick up something on the way home. Or I wait for some kind soul to take pity on me and invite me for dinner. Max has great table manners. Hint, hint, hint.”
“Are you asking me to invite you for dinner?”
“I thought you’d never ask. We accept. Should I bring something? Wine, beer, orange soda. Max likes orange soda. I think it’s the fizz.”
She almost said Lucie likes grape soda but stopped in time. “My dog likes grape,” she said, closing the bag of dry dog food. “Do you still want this if you’re coming for dinner? My dog eats what I eat, vegetables and all.”
“No kidding. What’s her name?”
“Nine-A.”
“Weird name.”
“She was one of a litter of nine. I put the A on for individuality,” Helen lied smoothly. I’m doing it, Boots, I’m doing it.
“So what time is dinner?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“You don’t talk much, do you? Sometimes I’m overwhelming. That’s what my students tell me. I rarely pay attention to what they say except in instances like this.”
“I don’t know you,” Helen said flatly.
Sam snorted. “That’s hardly surprising. You’ve been here ten weeks and the reason I know that is Jim moved out one weekend and you moved in the next. No one on this floor knows you. We’re kind of close up here in the clouds. You know, we borrow, we hang out, we gossip, we talk about our animals. Friendly bunch. We all kind of figured you didn’t want to be bothered with anyone. Hell, I wouldn’t have bothered you either, but I needed the dog food. Everyone else on this floor has cats. That’s a kick-ass computer if I do say so. ComStar, huh? What do you do, Nancy Baker? Or is that none of my business?”
“I work part-time in a shop in the mall, and I design and sell lingerie on my own. I eventually want to have my own shop somewhere. It’s not that I’m antisocial. I just haven’t had any free time. I work, go to class four nights a week, and on weekends I work on my designs.”
“Where are you from, Nancy?”
“Where
are you from, Sam Tolliver?”
“That’s Dr. Sam Tolliver, ma’am. Born and bred right here in the Garden State. How about you?”
“Walterboro, South Carolina. It’s a small, old historical town.”
“A Southern belle, huh? What happened to your accent?”
“I don’t have one. You’re nosy, aren’t you?”
“I call it being friendly.” Sam grinned. “Does your family still live there?” he queried.
“I don’t have a family. Where is your family?”
“Got a sister somewhere in Peru digging out ruins. She and I haven’t spoken in years. I’m thirty-three. Never married. This is all my own hair, and my teeth are in great shape. When I get to know you a little better, I’ll show you my birthmark. You got any? Birthmarks. We might want to show-and-tell later on.”
“Nope. Blemish-free.”
“I guess I should be going so you can get back to whatever it is you were doing. Sounded like you were having a good time when I rang the bell.”
“I was playing with my dog.”
“Oh. Listen, Max is lonely being cooped up all day. Maybe we could arrange a play day the way parents do with kids. He’s really gentle. He won’t hurt that little fluff ball of yours. Jesus, what the hell kind of name is Nine-A? Does she really answer to that? How about Tiffany or Samantha or even Myrtle? Your eyes are sparking. Okay, I’m taking the dog food and leaving. I do have one question, though. Does Max eat here with us and Nine-A, or should I feed him this deplorable stuff?”
“I guess it depends on how much you eat. I eat one slice of white meat and almost all of the stuffing.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you at seven-thirty. It isn’t dress-up, is it?”
Helen stared at the tall man hopping from one foot to the other. Rangy, a Clint Eastwood type, sandy hair, weathered skin, a few freckles, raggedy Villanova sweatshirt, ratty sweatpants, beat-up sneakers, and the clearest, brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen in her life.
“Nah. Come as you are. Just wash your hands.”
The moment the three locks were in place, Helen picked up Lucie and ran into the bedroom, where she flopped on the bed. Only then did she let her nerves take over. Is Sam Tolliver who he said he is? Did he really live here before I moved in? Is he truly a Ph.D.? Does he teach at Middlesex College? Do I dare trust him?
“What did you think, Lucie? I kind of liked him, but then I kind of liked Daniel, too, in the beginning. He has a dog. That’s got to be a plus. He’s the right age. Boots says we have to learn to trust, and she’s right. All men aren’t like Daniel. He seemed nice. If we decide we don’t like him or his dog, we won’t have to see them again.”
Lucie burrowed against Helen’s chest. “I hate calling you Nine-A but we have to do what we have to do. Now, though, we are going on the Internet to see if Dr. Sam Tolliver is who he says he is.”
7
Helen risked a glance at her watch: 10:50, and they were still sitting at the dining-area table, their dinner plates in front of them. She felt her stomach muscles bunch into a knot. How was she going to get Sam to leave without coming across as weird? Boots would be logging on soon, and here she was with her dinner dishes still in front of her, entertaining a stranger and his dog. She risked a side glance in the other direction to where the chocolate Lab was playing with Lucie. All her toys, even her treasured new mouse, were in a pile in the middle of the living-room floor. Obviously she trusted the big dog and his owner as well.
“Your dog is beating up on my dog,” Sam said. “Notice that he is being a gentleman and only offering gentle swipes at her, whereas she is determined to bite his tail in two.”
“Are you trying to tell me my dog isn’t a lady? She’s sharing all her toys, even her favorite mouse. Your dog brought nothing to the party. And, speaking of parties, tomorrow is a workday, and I still have to clean up.”
“I’ll help. We can have this cleaned up in no time,” Sam said, jumping up. “I’m a whiz-bang in the kitchen. Max wanted to bring his blanket, but I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want you to think he was a sissy.”
“No, you don’t have to help. I do better in that department myself. I know where everything goes and you don’t. I try to be in bed by eleven-fifteen. That’s a blunt hint that you should leave now.”
“There’s nothing bashful about you, Nancy Baker,” Sam said good-naturedly. “I guess I overstayed my welcome. I enjoyed the dinner immensely and the company as well. I’d like to do it again sometime soon. I think Max is in love. Look at the way they’re mooning over each other.”
“My dog is . . . she’s fixed,” Helen said desperately, her eye on the kitchen clock.
“Yeah, so is Max. I’m going, I’m going. Do you live by the clock or something?”
“Or something.”
“So, can we do this again?”
“Well . . .”
“I’ll cook. How about day after tomorrow?”
When the minute hand of her watch hit the twelve, Helen would have promised anything. “Yes, day after tomorrow. Fine, fine. I like your dog. Good night, Sam.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed slightly as he called his dog to his side. In the end he had to pick up the 110-pound dog and carry him through the open door. “I know you must have someone. in the closet that comes out at eleven on the dot,” he grumbled, as Helen slammed the door shut.
Her nerves jangling, Helen raced to the computer and turned it on. In minutes she was logged on and waiting for Boots to Instant Message her. She was only three minutes late. Oh, God, I forgot your chewie, Lucie. You have to wait a minute until Boots comes on. I see now I need better control. I’m so nervous. Her shoulders slumped when she read the two short words, “You’re late.”
“I had unexpected company. Time got away from me.”
“What kind of company, TTLS?”
“A neighbor. I checked him out. Dr. Sam Tolliver, Ph.D. He came over to borrow dog food and more or less invited himself to dinner. I didn’t know how to get out of it. He has a dog, Max, a big chocolate Lab. Nine-A loves him, and he loves her. Everything he told me is true. He teaches at the college. Actually, he heads up the Accounting Department.”
“How did the evening go?”
“Very well. He’s easy to talk to. He likes to eat. No personal questions. Mostly dog talk and accounting methods. I didn’t get nervous till ten minutes of eleven. I’m sorry I was late.”
“It’s okay. Is it safe to say you have a friend now?”
“He invited me to dinner at his place day after tomorrow. I said yes so he would leave. I can see him being a friend. Nine-A liked him a lot. She even let him pick her up.”
“What did you think of him, TTLS?”
“He made me laugh. Once I got over my nervousness, I relaxed and enjoyed his company. He wants to introduce me to some of the other neighbors. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Do you approve or disapprove?”
“It’s a step in building your new life. Be cautious. Now, tell me, how is TTLS2 doing? We’ve made a lot of progress these past two months, so we can ease up a little tonight. In fact, I’m thinking we can cut down the counseling sessions to three times a week. If you aren’t comfortable with that suggestion, we can continue as before for a while longer.”
“I’d rather continue.”
“All right, we’ll continue. I want to hear all about your latest list of orders and about TTLS2’s latest antics.”
“I have six orders for teddies, the lacy ones with the smocked straps. And, I have orders for seven camisoles. I must have dropped a potato or else the bag had a hole in it because she snatched it right up and carries it everywhere. I think she thinks it’s her old mouse or else it smells like her old mouse. She keeps it in her bed. She showed it off to Max tonight. He wasn’t impressed. All he did was sniff it. Sam wants to know if we can have play dates for the dogs since both of them are left alone so much. I said yes but only here. I won’t take her there.”
“Good thinking. How did she
react to Sam?”
“Very well. I thought . . . I was concerned that a man, any man, would make her schizy. Dogs are very shrewd judges of character. Did you ever have a dog, Boots? Oops, sorry, I know, no questions of the counselor.”
“And your own fear?”
“It’s there, but it isn’t there if you know what I mean. It’s like even though I’m busy, I’m still lonely. I miss . . . other places. My bad dreams are easing up. I rarely get them now. I think I’m really excited about Sam. I do like him. I’d like to know him better.”
“That’s normal.”
“I know this is a question but I have to ask it. Do you . . . is there any news of . . . of . . . you know?”
“It is a question, and no, you do not have to ask it. That part of your life is behind you. You have to stop thinking about it. You’re safe.”
Then why don’t I feel safe? Why do I check the doors and windows three times before going to bed? Why am I fearful when I take the trash out? Why do I jump out of my skin when Lucie barks for what seems like no reason? “I guess I’ll get used to it eventually.”
“Would you like to call it an early night?”
“Yes, I would if that’s all right.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow evening.”
The sigh escaping Helen’s lips was so loud, Lucie woke up and whimpered. “It’s okay, baby. I’m just going to clean up this mess and then we’ll go out. Get your leash and wait by the door.” The little dog jumped from her perch on the kitchen stool and trotted over to the door for her leash. Ten minutes later, Helen fastened the leash to Lucie’s collar. The warm air was like a balm as she quietly walked down the steps and out to the patch of grass that was Lucie’s favorite spot.
“Hurry, Lucie, it’s late. No barking, it’s almost midnight, and everyone is asleep. Ah, good girl, Lucie. Good girl. What’s wrong?” Helen looked over her shoulder, straining to see in the darkness. Was someone out there? Obviously Lucie thought so. Someone else walking their dog? Someone spying on her? The thought sent shivers up her spine.
What You Wish For Page 7
