by Mae Nunn
“Soccer? Why not football, like your dad?”
Ethan grinned and for the first time Ali saw a pleasant memory gleam in his eyes.
“Mom used to say I started kicking and chasing a ball as soon as I could walk. She claimed I chose soccer just to get my dad’s goat.”
Ali fished for new letters. “Yep, sounds like typical father-son rivalry.”
Ethan shook the head that had recently been washed and groomed, probably the pleasant surprise Benjamin had mentioned.
“No, it wasn’t that way. I just didn’t like seeing my dad and his friends getting pounded on the football field. I wasn’t a sissy or anything like that.” Ethan’s eyes widened as he emphasized the point.
Ali took several mental notes. This was the first time she’d been able to get Ethan’s mind off his obsessive subjects long enough to learn something about him firsthand. He cared how he was perceived, an encouraging indicator.
She glanced around his room. “I don’t see any signs of you being a soccer fan. No posters or team colors.”
“That was when I was a kid. I quit playing in middle school.”
“How come?”
He waved away the subject. “Aw, it’s lame.”
“No, please tell me.”
“Things changed.” Ethan scrunched his face, ducked his chin and rubbed his left hand through the shaggy blond hair that fell over his forehead.
“I think that’s when I caught Asperger’s.”
Ali wanted to smile at his choice of words, but humor now might spoil things. Instead, she nodded as if understanding.
“Ethan, tell me why you believe that.”
The boy sat very still, examining his memory of the illness, maybe for the first time.
“Because I couldn’t keep up. Soccer was too fast and too loud. People didn’t stick to the game plan. I only cared about going to the library after that.”
“Where you could study?”
He nodded. “And where it was quiet.”
Another revelation. Middle school meant an adolescent surge of hormones, not an uncommon time for signs of mental illness to first appear or in the Asperger cases worsen. Instead of diving headfirst along with his peers into their teenage years, Ethan fashioned a world for himself that excluded everyone and everything except a subject he could master. And in his private world he’d found a hushed haven for the hearing that was becoming acute.
An idea was taking shape in Ali’s mind.
“Ethan, when was the last time you visited the library?”
He ignored the question and took his turn instead. Carefully adding five tiles to the Scrabble board he spelled aloud, “A-Q-U-I-F-E-R. That’s a rock formation that stores groundwater—”
Ali held a palm outward to block the beginning of a lecture. “I know what an aquifer is, professor.”
“Just checking. Most people don’t.”
“How about answering my question now?”
Ethan’s gaze locked on hers. The blue, blue eyes he inherited from his father gleamed.
“The last time we went to the library was the night my mother died.”
Chapter Eleven
“I had no idea, Ethan. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
Quiet settled over the room while Ali considered her next move, both in the game and in the boy’s therapy.
“So, it’s been several years then. How would you feel about a field trip to a library?”
He shook his head. “We went there a hundred times. They don’t have anything that I can’t find online now.”
She relaxed into her plan and made a face as if his presumption had been absurd. “Not that little county facility whose leading-edge technology is a bookmobile. I’m talking about a big mack daddy library, the one over at Angelo State University.”
Ethan drew his hand back from the work of sliding letters to the side in search of a triple word score.
She had his attention. Thank you God!
“Wouldn’t their stuff be online, too?”
“Gimme a break,” she scoffed, hoping he’d be curious enough to nibble the bait. “Aside from the bajillion volumes on the shelves, there are file drawers full of doctoral dissertations and brilliant theses papers that’ll never see the light of day. And this is West Texas, baby. The gateway to the Permian Basin, the geologic capital of the Southwest! There’s bound to be a lot on that subject.”
He glanced sidelong at her comment, spotting the exaggeration for what it was.
“Okay, so there’s no such claim to fame,” Ali admitted. “But did you know some members of the faculty presented to the Geological Society of America where there were over ten thousand participants? Don’t you think they have a little something over at Angelo State that might interest you?”
She’d read a tidbit on that subject in the local paper months ago and hoped her memory was somewhere close to accurate. It would be worth whatever forgiveness she had to beg later if it got Ethan out of the house now.
Ben rolled his shoulders and tilted his head side to side. He hadn’t stretched sufficiently after his morning workout and the impromptu visit from Randy and Sanders Boyd had Ben’s neck in a knot. Otherwise he’d be in his right mind and hearing Ali’s comments correctly, though her odd behavior was certainly proof something good had happened.
If it was possible to skip down a flight of steps, she’d just done that very thing. Then Ali two-stepped across his living room floor to the accompaniment of David Letterman’s theme song.
“I got Ethan to agree to go to the university library with me,” she sung out of tune with the band.
“You did what?” Ben must have misunderstood. He’d offered everything under the sun just to get his boy to come downstairs. There was no way a simple invitation to the library had been the Holy Grail to get Ethan to leave the house!
“We made a date and we shook on it. As far as I’m concerned we’re each going to live up to our part of the agreement.”
It was late, after eleven o’clock, but her smile was alight with triumph. She’d been so tired when she’d arrived. This was not the same bedraggled Ali who’d gone upstairs over four hours ago.
“Where did you get this burst of energy?” Ben asked from the cushy comfort of his favorite chair.
As if she’d suddenly run out of steam, Ali stopped dancing about and plopped on the sofa, her head falling against a fat throw pillow. Simba started to follow suit but then remembered her manners. The dog paused and looked to him as if waiting for permission.
“Would you mind?” Ali asked, her lovely eyes pleading. “I gave her a bath this morning.”
He was losing dominion over his territory, but there wasn’t much left at this point anyway. More important, he was finding it difficult to deny Ali’s requests, few though they were. If it put a glow in her otherwise tired face, it was worth his personal cost.
“Sure, why not.” He gave in.
She stretched her legs, pressed close to the back of the sofa and patted the seat cushion in front of her body. With the grace of a gazelle, Simba leapt onto the couch, turned and then collapsed against her mistress, compliant as a stuffed toy. Ali spooned her pet, scratching and murmuring as the animal basked in the attention. Never having owned a dog, Ben had no earthly idea how it felt to share a physical bond with a four-legged creature.
Watching Ali and Simba commune through coos and kisses made Ben downright jealous of their unconditional companionship. It was foreign to him, completely missing in his life. Ali seemed to draw comfort and strength from caressing the sleek coat of her best friend.
Maybe someday he’d try to pet Simba.
When she was on a leash.
Asleep.
Heavily medicated.
He watched the two, envied their companionship. But mostly he longed to know the tender way Ali demonstrated her love through touch. What would it be like to have the woman softly stroke his shoulder, kiss his cheek, exhale a warm breath of contentment against his ear?
Ben’s memories of love weren’t so deeply buried that he couldn’t recall those sensations, didn’t miss them every single day.
Wait a minute. That wasn’t true at all. He hadn’t been missing those things until very recently. From the afternoon Doctor Alison Stone had dropped out of the sky like a gift from heaven he’d begun to recognize a slow awakening in his heart as if from a deep, dreamless slumber. There was no denying it, he was feeling like a man again.
Ali straightened her knees, mindful to dangle the soles of her boots over the edge of the sofa. Her many bracelets clinked as she adjusted the hem of her calf-length denim skirt.
“Oh, it feels good to lie down. That second wind I got about an hour ago when things started to look up is amost gone.” She stroked Simba’s ears but fixed her gaze on Ben. Her eyes were wide, as if she’d discovered something surprising. “Ethan and I made real headway tonight.”
Ben set the medical thriller he’d been reading to the side and slipped his glasses into his shirt pocket. “Tell me about it. Did you come up with a new strategy?”
She curved her lips in a lazy grin. “I’d love to take the credit, but it was more Forrest Gump than Freud. I asked a question about his mother and the conversation flowed from there. Before I knew it he was telling me all about her and their last day together.”
Ben’s enjoyable moment of seeing Ali as an appealing woman suddenly evaporated. Even though it shouldn’t matter, the idea that she’d been talking with Ethan about his mother was unsettling. The loss of control intensified. It was possible Ali had learned things Ben didn’t even know, and he was too embarrassed to ask what those things might be. He was a team player, always had been, but right now all six feet and four inches of him felt like the odd man out.
Lord, I have to speak up. Help me say the right thing.
“I’m grateful you’ve managed a breakthrough with Ethan, but now I’d appreciate it if you’d try to keep my late wife out of your conversations.”
Ali’s hands stilled. Simba turned accusing eyes on Ben as if sensing a mood change in her beloved mistress.
“Would you mind if I ask why you feel that way? We spoke about Ethan’s mother before, and you never indicated that area might be off limits. In fact, isn’t that what made you call me in the first place?”
Ben closed his eyes, not sure he even grasped it himself. Though he thought of Theresa every day, it was always in a pleasant way. By the merciful grace of God Ben’s heart was healed, even ready to engage again as he was beginning to understand. But the sudden and tragic loss had reinforced the wall between himself and Ethan in a way that was too painful to have discussed behind his back.
“I guess I didn’t even know it until just now.” No other words came to mind, so he simply gave the same stupid shrug Ethan used when he wanted to avoid an uncomfortable answer.
“Well, that does tie my hands a bit, but our time together tonight may already have served the purpose God intended.”
Ali was a true professional. If she was offended by Ben’s irrational edict, she hid it well. She covered her mouth and yawned behind the palm of her hand.
“Goodness.” She shook her head. “I guess the sugar rush has worn off from the two Snickers bars Ethan traded me for my malachite key ring.”
Ben jumped up from where he’d been reclining. “I’m sorry for being such an inconsiderate host. Let me make you an espresso for the road.” He headed toward the kitchen.
“A double shot in a to-go cup would be nice if you don’t mind. Then I need to be on my way. I’m sinking fast.”
“I’ll pack you a sandwich, too.” He called, his head poked inside the fridge. He pulled out a container of cold meatloaf and set it on the granite countertop beside the baguette of fresh sourdough bread. “Tomorrow’s soon enough for you to tell me how you managed to get Ethan to agree to a field trip.”
When there was no answer Ben presumed Ali either didn’t hear him or she was in the powder room. He bustled about the kitchen, placed two halves of a thick sandwich in a zip lock bag, ground fresh espresso beans, added bottled water to the machine, then expertly drew two rich-smelling shots into his favorite travel mug. He smacked his hands together with satisfaction, picked up the lunch sack and coffee cup, then headed back into the living room.
“Ready when you are,” he called.
But there was no sign of her. He moved closer until he could see over the cushioned back of the sofa. Ali lay on her right side, her head burrowed into the throw pillow. She snuggled Simba’s back and draped her left arm protectively over the dog’s belly, her nose buried in the silky neck. The woman was out like a light. Down for the count. Dead to the world. His father’s silly expressions for deep sleep came to Ben’s mind and they all applied.
He should wake her, put the cup of strong coffee in her hand and send her on her way. Instead, he deposited his meager meal offering on the coffee table and bent closer. The tantalizing scent of honeysuckle shampoo hovered over silky hair Ben wanted desperately to touch. Her fair skin was lightly lined at the outer corners of her eyes, permanent signs of perpetual smiles.
She exhaled, a whisper of sound through softly puckered lips. Lips he would kiss if given the chance. Her thick auburn lashes rimmed lids that already twitched with REM sleep. Bent close as he was, it was impossible not to note the dark rings beneath Ali’s closed eyes.
It was almost midnight. Her drive back into town was long and the road was too dark and desolate for a sleepy driver. Right or wrong, his decision was made.
Ben straightened, moved to the coat closet and pulled a spare quilt from the high shelf. He draped it carefully over the enchanting woman whose deep breathing never faltered. Simba lay motionless but her eyes followed his every move. Ben pressed his index finger to his lips as if she’d understand his signal, then he turned out the overhead light, leaving only the soft glow of a table lamp.
I really want to kiss Ali.
The idea was becoming comfortable to him as he looked back to where she lay, stunning yet vulnerable. If the dog were on the floor he might try to at least give his Sleeping Beauty a goodnight peck. It was best she was being guarded.
Ben smiled at the pair snuggled on his sofa and then crept to the master suite where he softly closed the door behind him.
A clock gonged somewhere. Ali didn’t own a noisy timepiece. Her mouth was parched. Her tongue passed over her teeth, dry and nasty like a desert landfill. She squinted toward the windows on the far side of the room, not recognizing the expensive drapes or the view of the sun’s glow that greeted the day. Simba grunted and stretched, pressing Ali back into sofa cushions.
Sofa cushions?
She sat up, tossed the unfamiliar quilt off her legs, bumped Simba to the floor and took in the surroundings.
Benjamin’s house. And according to the mantle clock it was just after six in the morning. Still dark outside but not for much longer.
“Oh, good grief,” Ali grumbled as she struggled to stand on feet that were swollen from being stuck in boots all night long. She didn’t need a mirror to know her face was creased and puffy, her hair poking out in all directions.
“I’m too old for the walk of shame and I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.”
She grabbed her bag, motioned for Simba to follow and tiptoed to the front door praying the alarm hadn’t been set. Either way, she’d make a run for it before anyone was the wiser. Boy howdy, would Erin Elise have a good laugh over this.
The silence of the early morning waited outside the door. She breathed in the glory of God’s new day, wiped the sleep from her eyes while Simba did her business and then the two made quick work of leaving the exclusive neighborhood behind as they headed for town.
Three hours later Ali’s cell phone hummed in her pocket. She reached beneath the desk, pressed the power button and motioned for her client to take a seat. She had a full day—calls could wait.
At two o’clock there was a tap on her office door before Josie poked her head insid
e.
“Sorry to bother you, Ali, but I noticed your calendar was clear for this hour and wanted to give you these phone messages. Your football player was really upset when I wouldn’t put him through to you.”
Ali thanked her young roommate and then glanced at the three while-you-were-out notes.
All from Benjamin. All marked urgent. Her bare arms tingled at the thought of being worthy of his attention, urgent or otherwise. Could these notes mean he was feeling the same restless need she’d been experiencing since they’d met?
She powered up her phone and it buzzed to life, full of messages from Benjamin. But instead of sounding excited he sounded anxious. She moved to the edge of her chair.
“What in the world is this all about?” She thought of Ethan and her heart quickened. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Or maybe he and his dad had words over their plans to visit the university library. After all, Benjamin had reacted oddly to Ethan’s mother being at the center of last night’s conversation. Anything could have happened this morning.
“I knew it,” Ali admitted to Simba who snoozed on a doggie daybed in the corner. “I should have hung around instead of slinking off like I’d done something to be ashamed of. Better call and find out what’s up.”
Benjamin answered before the first ring was complete.
“Hello, this is Doctor Stone returning your calls,” she wanted to sound professional.
“Ali, I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
She clutched the cell phone tightly. Her empty stomach quivered. And not in the good way it had moments earlier.
Please God. Not again.
Don’t let it be Ethan.
Chapter Twelve
“What’s happened?” Ali held her breath, waited for whatever Benjamin had to say.
“Someone phoned in a tip to the local paper last night. This is such a slow news area that they actually took it seriously and planted a photographer down the street from my home. When you left around daylight the guy took shots of you at the front door and then again driving away. He got closeups of your face and license plates. There’s no doubt it’s you, Ali.”
