Hello Love

by McQuestion, Karen

  He had his hand on the corner, ready to peel the tape off the window, when he felt a hand on his back and heard Doreen’s voice: “Dan!”

  He was right near the door and hadn’t seen her enter; she must have been inside already. “Hello, Doreen.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t take that down. Lindsay stops to touch it every time she walks in. I’m not sure what the deal is, but I can see it in her eyes. It’s important to her.”

  Dan said, “That’s why I need to take it down. She’s getting obsessed with Anni being gone and it’s really starting to worry me.” He started to explain, but Doreen stopped him.

  “My soup is getting cold. Come and join me and you can tell me all about it.” She gestured over to the counter where a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee were waiting. “I’ll buy you dinner. I think I owe you a meal.”

  He shifted from foot to foot, indecisive, his eyes shooting toward the door. “Um, actually, I have to . . .”

  “Don’t even try to tell me you have to get home, Dan. I was just at Walgreens and I saw Lindsay there. You can’t fool me. You’ve got nothing.”

  He didn’t normally go anywhere after work. Like a homing pigeon, his car traveled from work to home and back again, never wavering. A habit from back in the days of returning to a wife, daughter, and faithful dog. Now there was no one waiting for him at home and Doreen knew it. The woman did have a forceful way about her. Without saying any more, she had him by the elbow and was steering him across the diner. When they got to the counter, she pointed to an empty adjacent stool. He said, “This is starting to be a habit, you shanghaiing me into joining you for a meal.”

  “What’s getting to be a habit is you trying to avoid joining me for a meal. Which is really puzzling because most people find me to be a complete delight,” she said. “Speaking of which, you never called me back the other day. Are we on for dinner a week from Sunday?” She turned her attention to the soup, blowing on the spoonful in front of her mouth.

  Dinner a week from Sunday. He hadn’t called back and had almost forgotten about it. “That depends,” he said, taking a menu from the waitress, a young woman with spiked crimson hair. “Who’s going to be there?”

  “Well, aren’t you the rude one.” She laughed. “If you must know, it’s a friend from my book club and his neighbor.”

  The waitress came back and stood wordlessly in front of him, holding pen to pad. “I’ll have a cup of soup, a Coke, no ice, and a Reuben sandwich,” he said. When the waitress walked away, he turned his attention back to Doreen. “So, tell me about these people, the book club friends.”

  Doreen said, “Cliff is in my book club at the library. We just finished reading the Steve Jobs biography. Fascinating read.”

  “And the other person?”

  “Cliff’s neighbor. A single woman.” The waitress set the Coke down on the counter in front of them. “She’s younger than us. Closer to your age.”

  “So Cliff is your date and you’re setting this woman up with me?”

  Doreen frowned. “Why must you be so suspicious, Dan? If I were trying to set you up, I would certainly tell you. People do get together to socialize and eat, you know. There doesn’t have to be an agenda.”

  “You lost your credibility when you stuck me with Desiree.” He took the wrapper off his straw. “Talk about the date from hell.”

  “I never deceived you. Desiree was never a date. Oh, and guess what?” Her voice rose excitedly at the end of the sentence. “Desiree and her boyfriend have worked things out and they’re back together again. I have my doubts, of course, but she seems happier, so I wish them the best.”

  “They’re back together again,” Dan said incredulously. “But she said he was a sociopath. She said he told her that she was the type of woman who drove a man to drink.” He didn’t care about Desiree at all, but her words were fresh in his mind and he couldn’t believe she’d gone back to this guy. “She made him sound heartless.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Doreen said, breaking crackers into her bowl. “I never met the boyfriend, so I can’t say anything about him either way. I do know that people say awful things in the heat of anger. They just worked through it, I guess.” She had a thoughtful expression on her face. “I’ve given up trying to figure out people and relationships. Some of the ones I thought would last forever wind up getting divorced. Other couples I wouldn’t bet a nickel on lasting a year are still going strong twenty years later. Like you and Christine. The two of you sure proved me wrong.”

  Dan’s mouth dropped open and he gave Doreen a hard look. “You didn’t think Christine and I would last?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why not?” The waitress brought his soup, but he didn’t make a move for his spoon.

  “He’ll need crackers,” Doreen said to the waitress, and then turned back to Dan. “You two were a complete mismatch from day one. And you were always arguing too. Oh, the drama.” She put the back of her hand to her forehead. “I remember your mother saying she wished you two would just break up and stop torturing each other.”

  Dan didn’t remember it being quite that dramatic. “You have to remember we were in high school then.”

  “And that’s another thing: Who marries their high school sweetheart nowadays? No one, that’s who. What if Lindsay wanted to marry Brandon?”

  “Lindsay’s not going to marry Brandon. She’s seventeen.” He took the cracker packet from the waitress’s outstretched hand. “Thanks.”

  “You see where I’m going with this.”

  “When I met Christine—”

  “You don’t need to defend your marriage to me. Clearly, I was wrong.” She pushed the empty bowl aside. “Which is my point entirely. No one can predict what the heart wants, not even the heart. Right now you feel closed off and you want to be left alone, which, frankly, young man, is no way to live. You need to get out in the world and connect with other people. You may not fall in love ever again, and that would be fine.” She held up her hand, as if he were going to say something, which he wasn’t. “But it would be a shame to come close to love, but keep it at arm’s length, never even giving it a chance. Like if you turn down my dinner invitation, you’ll never know what might have been.”

  “This woman, Cliff’s neighbor, she doesn’t think it’s a blind date?”

  “Of course not,” Doreen said with mock indignation. She watched as Dan blew on a spoonful of his soup, and then she brought out the big guns. “If it makes a difference, I’m making your favorite breaded pork chops.”

  “With the stuffing and homemade applesauce?”

  “Sure, if you’re coming, I could do that.”

  He nodded. “Okay, as long as you make it clear to everyone involved that it’s not a date.”

  “Got it,” she said. “Not a date.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  When Andrea and Anni walked back into the office after their harrowing encounter with the frat boy, Tommy McGuire was there, holding the door for them. “Was that Marco’s car I saw out in the lot?” He’d obviously been watching through the window. When she was desk-bound, Andrea also kept an eye out to the parking lot, checking to see who was coming and going.

  “What’s with you guys and cars?” she said, thinking of how much attention the silver Jaguar got every time she’d driven in it with Marco. Sometimes they’d gone into a business and returned to the parking lot to find the car surrounded by men, admiring it from every angle. She never quite got it. “It’s just a car. Four wheels, a bumper, an engine. Just like any other automobile.”

  “Spoken like a true woman,” he said, grinning, and followed them in.

  Andrea unsnapped Anni’s leash and directed her to lie on the carpet square near her desk, then took off her coat and hung it on the rack.

  “So,” Tommy asked, “are you two back together now? Or just friends, or
what?” He rested his butt against her desk and waited for an answer.

  “We are most definitely not together,” she said. “I ran into him. He offered me a ride back from lunch. I accepted. The end.” She took her seat and turned on her computer, but Tommy didn’t move. “What?”

  “Nothing. That’s just too bad.”

  “What’s too bad?”

  “I was hoping you two were patching things up.”

  “Ha!” Patching things up? Was he insane? “Why would you want that?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “I don’t know. I always liked Marco. And you two seemed happy enough.” He picked up a stack of mail and started flipping through it.

  She wasn’t surprised that Tommy liked Marco. Her ex-husband was a real guy’s guy, the kind who was always up for a drink or the chance to talk sports. He was generous with tickets to sports events and even though he didn’t enjoy golf all that much, he would fill in at a moment’s notice. Other guys loved that he was a gracious loser, willing to buy drinks at the clubhouse afterward. Still, Tommy knew what a mess she’d been when they split up, so it was odd he wanted them back together. “Did Marco put you up to this? Tell you to make a case for him?”

  “No, why, does he want to get back together?” When she didn’t answer, he looked triumphant. “That’s it, isn’t it? Didn’t I say he’d regret the divorce? Didn’t I tell you that?”

  Indeed he had, during one of the days he’d found her crying at her desk, unable to see through her bleary, tear-filled eyes. He’d said that very thing, right before he’d told her to take the day off—hell, that she should take the week off, it was fine with him. Tommy was good that way. She’d only taken the afternoon off, though. After a few hours wandering aimlessly at the mall, she was ready to go back to work and do something productive. Work was a better distraction than anything else she could think of, and having time off only reminded her that her life was falling apart. “You called it,” she said. “Marco said he was sorry. He regrets the divorce and he wants us to get back together.”

  “That must make you feel pretty good.”

  “Strangely,” she said, “I feel nothing.” Anni yawned on her carpet square and curled up to go to sleep. “He did say he would be open to adopting or infertility treatments.” Jade had found it hard to believe how much Andrea had shared with her boss, saying it was too much information, but it was nothing she planned. It was just the two of them, for the most part, and Tommy was such a good listener. Attentive, nonjudgmental, and discreet, a winning combination. She’d told him things she’d never share with family members, for instance, because most of them were big blabbermouths and prone to giving advice she didn’t want to hear. Telling Tommy felt safe.

  “Ah, poor Marco,” he said.

  “Poor Marco!” she exclaimed. “What about poor me? He’s the one who booted me out and replaced me. He cheated on me, and lied, and broke my heart. Why would you feel sorry for him?”

  “I guess I’m just looking at it from a man’s perspective,” he said. “His behavior was despicable, yes, but he wouldn’t be the first guy to get his head turned by a flashy blonde. Men are weak, Andrea. Pathetic and weak.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  But he wasn’t finished. “I never told you this, but after my divorce I woke up one day and realized I’d messed up big-time. I was sick with shame and regret, so I went back to Suzanne and begged her to forgive me. I said I’d do anything to make amends. That I wanted my family back.” He looked up at the ceiling.

  “And?”

  He shook his head ruefully. “She wouldn’t give me the time of day. Said I was a day late and a dollar short and the sight of me made her sick.”

  “No kidding,” Andrea said, sitting back, arms folded.

  “I know, I know. I deserved it.” He sighed. “And I am happy now and so is Suzanne, so you could say it all worked out in the long run. But”—he held up one finger—“our family will forever be divided and it’s always testy. The kids have to pick where to go on holidays and the grandkids are confused about what to call the step-grandparents. It can be messy.”

  “Modern families. That’s the way it is nowadays.”

  “But see, it didn’t have to be that way for us,” Tommy said. “If Suzanne had taken me back, I was willing to make amends, willing to do anything it took to make it right between us. They say once a cheater, always a cheater, but I’m here to tell you that’s not true, at least not for me. I would have been faithful and devoted to Suzanne until the day I died, if she’d taken me back, and I’m willing to bet Marco would do the same.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “People can change if you give them a chance.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” she said, “but he put me through hell and I don’t want to go there again.”

  “Fair enough. It’s your life,” Tommy said. “I just wanted to give you another perspective. Personally, I’d go out with him just to ride in that car.” He let out a long whistle. “That is one beautiful automobile.”

  “Why don’t you just buy a Jaguar if you want one?” Andrea asked. She knew all his financials. He could certainly afford it.

  “Are you kidding? The wife would never go for it,” Tommy said, grinning at how the conversation had come around to make his point. “And I’m all about keeping her happy now, remember? I’m a changed man.” He got up and walked into his office, turning in the doorway to say, “But if you do decide to give Marco a shot, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  Andrea was still thinking about this conversation that evening when she locked up the office and headed for home. Clearly, Tommy was speaking from the point of view of the one who caused the pain, not the one on the receiving end. Easy for him to say. Tommy’s life had always been of his own making. He was the guy in charge, barreling into the office for a few hours here and there, checking to see that she was doing things properly, then doling out relationship advice before heading out the door again. He was free to give advice, but that didn’t mean she had to take it.

  Later she wondered if Tommy were somehow in cahoots with Marco, maybe psychic in some way, because right when she got home that night, Marco called, wanting to get together. Of course, he hadn’t phrased it quite that way.

  “Hey, Andrea,” he said, purring the syllables in her name in the way she used to love. “I’m glad I caught you. I’ve got something really important to tell you.”

  That was just like Marco too, stating he was about to say something very important. He also liked to let other people know when he was about to say something funny. “You’re going to die laughing,” he’d say. “This is hilarious.” This time, he wanted her to hang on every word. He was about to say something important or at least, it was in his own mind. She’d draw her own conclusions.

  “Hi, Marco,” she said wearily, leaning against the wall and pulling off her boots. Anni had raced ahead of her when she’d opened the front door, turning the corner and dashing into the kitchen. She’d probably left wet paw prints all the way to her food bowl. “What can I do for you?” she said, vowing to check the caller ID next time. “And make it quick.”

  “You know that ring that belonged to your grandma?”

  “Yes.” She shook off her jacket and hung it in the closet, no small feat with the phone wedged between her ear and shoulder. Of course she knew about her grandmother’s ring. It had somehow disappeared while she was packing up to move when they’d separated. She and Marco had a big screaming match, where she’d accused him of taking it and he’d told her she was crazy. It was not her finest moment. “What about it?”

  “I found it!” His voice was elated. “It was in the safe-deposit box.”

  She smacked her free hand against her forehead. Of course it was in the safe-deposit box; she’d put it there herself and completely forgotten. And then having forgotten, she’d torn the whole house apart l
ooking for it. When she couldn’t find it, she’d accused Marco of stealing it, either to sell or, as she had so eloquently put it, to give to his “slut girlfriend.”

  “Andrea, are you still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Isn’t that great news?”

  “Yeah, it’s great. Really great.”

  “Somehow I thought you’d be happier.”

  At least he wasn’t mentioning her false accusations, her harpy yelling, the many ugly profanities that had streamed from her mouth over this very ring. He had the opportunity right here and now to rub her face in it, but he wasn’t doing any such thing. She could give him that much at least. “I am happy. Wow, after all this time. I’m just a little shocked, is all.” Anni came around the corner and Andrea reached down to pet her.

  “Yeah, I was surprised to see it too,” he said. “I was thinking we should meet, so I can give it to you. After it being missing for so long, I want to make sure it gets to you.”

  “I can stop over on the weekend. Is there a time that’s good?”

  “I was thinking”—there was a catch in his voice, some hesitation she couldn’t quite identify—“that it would be better if we met at a neutral location. Like maybe that coffee shop you like? Noon-ish tomorrow? Would that work?” She heard the hesitation in his voice and could tell he was nervous. She’d lived with him long enough to know what that sounded like.

  “Do you really have the ring?” she asked.

  “Well, yeah, of course.”

  “And you’re going to bring it tomorrow and just hand it over to me, no strings attached?” The doubt in her voice was unmistakable.

  “Andrea.” He said her name and let it sit there for a second. “If I say I’m bringing the ring, believe me, I’ll have it with me. I don’t steal women’s jewelry.”