Dani was happy for her friend but found she was thinking more and more of what she would never experience, and the thought depressed her. However, Janette had done everything right. She'd finished college, married, built up her career as the Coat Buyer for Chance's and now, when everything was perfect, was having a baby. It wasn't Janette's fault that Dani had made a fateful decision that changed her future. It was only Dani's fault. His fault, too.
Dani turned up the volume on the radio in an attempt to keep her mind in the present and on the road ahead and not on the past. "Hotel California" by The Eagles began playing across the airwaves and Dani had to force herself not to snap the radio off. Another reminder of her past. She had once loved this song and The Eagles like she had loved him. Now the music only reminded her of the past and the man that she wished she could forget. After all, what had happened was another lifetime, back when she still lived with her parents in Northern California. After leaving home to attend college at the University of Minnesota, then landing the position at Chance's upon graduation, Dani had decided never to go back. And now that her parents were retired and living in a small resort town in Northern Minnesota, she no longer had any reason to go back to California. This was fine with her since it meant no chance of ever seeing him again, not even by accident.
Once again, Dani tried turning her thoughts to the trip at hand. As she drove along, reaching the Illinois border, she thought of Catherine, the friend she was going to see tomorrow in Chicago. It had been two years since she’d last seen her former roommate, so Dani was happy the buyers meeting in Chicago had come up. It gave her an excuse to see Cathy and to finally meet Cathy's new man, Michael, who Dani had heard about through Cathy's letters. Dani laughed to herself over Cathy's excited banter on paper. She had always been energetic and cheerful and even her letters could not contain her vivaciousness. In college, Catherine had been the light side to Dani's serious nature. Whenever Dani became depressed or discouraged, Cathy was there to keep her smiling and laughing. Without Cathy's upbeat personality, Dani might never have made it through the rigors of college life. The two helped each other through economics courses, impossible professors and over-eager males. Even now, when things got tense, all Dani needed was to talk to Cathy and she felt much better.
Since they were both in the retail business, they could relate to each other's work problems. Cathy was the assistant to the owner of Regal Coats, the coat manufacturing company she worked for, and it was her boss she had raved about for the past year. She was in love, thought he might actually be ‘the one’, and couldn't wait for Dani to meet him.
Night fell as Dani entered the city and found her hotel. It was late by the time she slipped between the bed’s crisp sheets. She had to rise early for an eight o'clock morning meeting and then head over to Cathy's apartment for lunch. As Dani drifted off to sleep, exhausted from her long drive, Chicago's lights sparkled below her hotel room window.
Miguel DeCara lay crouched beneath the jungle bushes and vines, not quite sure where he was or what direction to go next. He knew for certain that 'Charlie' was up ahead but he had no idea how close or how far—or how many. His comrades were beside him and behind him, but the jungle's dense brush hid everyone from view.
The smell of smoke and gunpowder assailed his senses as he clutched his M-16 tightly, listening for any movement, any sign. Without warning, all hell broke loose and gunfire flailed around him. He heard the soldier on his right yell out as the bullets hit him and the sound of another body falling in the brush to his left. Screaming and yelling surrounded him as he stood from his hiding place in time to see a Viet Cong come straight at him. Without hesitation, Miguel fired his weapon, killing his enemy. And for only a second, he looked at the dead man before him thinking how different it would have been had they met somewhere sane like New York or L.A. or even Chicago. Hell, they might have even been friends. But instead, here, they were enemies.
"Fall back!" the commanding officer yelled from behind, and Miguel instantly doubled back in the direction he had come. Shots snapped over his head. To his left a hand grenade went off, making him veer a bit, when suddenly his left foot stepped onto a hidden mine and all he heard was ‘click’.
Michael sat straight up in bed and instinctively reached down to feel his left leg. Yes, it was still there, not completely perfect, or the same as it had once been, but there. Wiping the sweat from his face with the back of his hand, he looked around the dark room for several minutes before assuring himself he was not in Nam, it was not 1970. He was safe in his own apartment high above the Chicago lights.
Michael checked the clock on his nightstand. 3:30 A.M. He slid out of bed and walked through the dark apartment, opened the refrigerator door and drank deeply from the carton of orange juice. In the light of the refrigerator he smiled to himself, thinking of his daughter, Vanessa, and how she used to say "Gross Dad!" every time he did this. But his daughter was no longer living with him, she was grown-up and married and had a daughter of her own now and she ran the New York division of Regal Coats.
Michael had raised her by himself after his wife decided she could no longer handle being his wife or a mother. He'd only been home from Vietnam for eight months, trying his best to cope with civilian life and get back to being the husband and father he had been before shipping out. But Diane couldn't take the nightly screams of anguish he suffered or his constant tenseness or times of distraction. All she knew was he wasn't the same man she’d married and she didn't want to get to know this new man, so she left him and Vanessa to fend for themselves and joined a commune in Oregon to ‘find herself’.
Michael juggled the next few years raising Vanessa alone along with an endless procession of jobs and women, not able to commit to either. He felt so dirty, so unworthy of enjoying life after all the death he'd seen and been a part of in Nam that he was unable to maintain a relationship with any one woman for a long period of time. He knew it was wrong to jump from woman to woman, and he was careful that Vanessa never caught on to his exploits, but he couldn't stop himself. Like the pot he'd become addicted to in Nam, so was he addicted to women. He’d meet a woman and feel good for the moment, the hour or the day, but then he'd plunge back down and need another and another.
He remembered few faces and names. And the women all reacted much like his wife had to his constant nightmares. It scared them, or baffled them, except for one young woman. When he'd scream out in fear or pain from a nightmare, she'd hold him and rock him in her arms until he’d calm down. She'd whisper over and over to him that he was all right, he was home and she was there, until he would slowly come out of his nightmare state and back to his senses.
She had also been the only one to suggest he go for counseling to help him through his pain. "If not for you," she'd say gently, "then for Vanessa." Sweet little six-year old Vanessa who she had grown to love in the few months she’d known them. But he thought he was too much of a 'man' to admit he needed help. He could handle everything on his own. He didn't need an eighteen-year old girl to tell him what he should do.
She had been one of the longest relationships he'd had, and she had been the last of the string of women. After her, his life changed overnight, without warning or preparation. He was forced to change his ways and clean up his act as responsibility was dropped into his lap.
Michael placed the half-empty carton back into the refrigerator, walked to his bedroom and slipped between the sheets. He had an eight o'clock meeting in the morning and he had promised Catherine he'd be at her place by eleven o'clock for lunch. She was expecting an old college roommate of hers to visit and she wanted Michael to meet her.
He smiled to himself at the thought of Catherine. At forty-four, he was seven years her senior, but he looked much younger than his age. His build was strong from regular workouts and even though his dark hair and full beard showed a few strands of silver, it only added to his rugged good looks. His deep gray eyes and golden brown skin could not deny his Portuguese heritage, althou
gh he had given up his true first name of Miguel for the American version. Women were attracted to him easily, but he'd been out of the market for a long time while he worked hard at the business and raising Vanessa. Only with Vanessa married and gone did he begin to allow himself the pleasure of women in his life again, and along came Catherine, beautiful, softly rounded, energetic yet easy-going. He enjoyed her company, especially in bed, and they had a few interests in common, like racquetball and tennis, along with working in the coat industry. Unfortunately, he wasn't interested in much more from her than just fun and companionship and lately he'd sensed from her an eagerness to commit. He wasn't ready for that now, and maybe he never would be.
This time when Michael finally fell to sleep his dreams were not filled with smoke and heat and death, but instead with the face of a young, blond, blue-eyed woman telling him he was okay, everything was going to be fine.
Sara's Promise Page 23
