Love Never Dies

by Loren Lockner

  “That will look lovely in our bathroom,” said Angie excitedly, and Simon grinned as they haggled over the price with the eager artist who was only too willing to negotiate.

  “So how’s school been?” asked Simon quietly as Julia studied an ocean scene depicting a surfer taking his life into his own hands as he topped the crest of a particularly fearsome looking wave.

  “Things have been just great,” returned Julia mildly. This was her stock answer and Simon cocked an eyebrow at her and though he didn’t believe her, gave an equally benign response.

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “So you finished your stint at the firm?”

  “Yep. Old Lenny didn’t want to let me go, but I just couldn’t stand working there another day. I did manage to go on site and see the wrap up of the little mini-market complex Seth had designed last year. It was a comforting feeling seeing the beautiful lines of those red-tiled buildings. He did a fine job.”

  “Where is it?” asked Julia, suddenly interested.

  “You know where Goleta is? The center is two blocks north of Turnpike Road, right on the corner. Maybe you’d like to drive up there sometime and see how his last job turned out?”

  Julia stiffened visibly before letting out a shaky breath. “I think I’d enjoy that.”

  “Would you like me to drive you up there? I know the way and when you view the center, it’s like a piece of him survived somehow. That is if you wouldn’t mind putting up with the likes of me?”

  Julia peered across at him, studying his handsome face. “I don’t think I’d mind at all. Are you busy tomorrow Simon?”

  “Nope,” he said. “I’ve currently joined the ranks of the unemployed. I’ll bring my camera and take a couple shots. Hey, it finally appears Paul and Angie have stopped haggling over the price and obtained their painting.”

  Her sister-in-law hugged the small paper-wrapped painting with an air of triumph.

  “They got their price,” laughed Julia.

  Thirty minutes later they sat at a sidewalk café admiring the lifelike painting while Paul boasted about his negotiating abilities. California gulls screeched overhead, while brown house sparrows waited on the white railing of the café, hoping to snag some crumbs. Simon lifted the top slice of his club sandwich and added a lethal dose of hot sauce as Angie shivered.

  “Well, that’s one way you resemble your brother. He always liked to add spicy sauce to his food. I remember once he whipped up this Thai stir-fry for all of us one Sunday afternoon. I thought I was going to die and must have consumed a gallon of water to wash it down.”

  “Seth did love to cook, and enjoyed his chilies and peppers. I think we both got that from our mother’s side. Her grandfather had been Portuguese and used to do a seafood mix on the grill, adding so much peri peri I swore we’d all expire in one big puff of smoke.” He grinned and took another hearty bite of his sandwich.

  “I’ve noticed Simon,” said Angie, spreading brown mustard over her tuna melt, “that you walk with a definite limp. What happened?”

  “I can see at finishing school they certainly didn’t teach tact,” said Paul gruffly, frowning at Angie who shrugged innocently.

  Julia laughed. Angie’s overt questioning skills had always been a sense of amusement to both her and their parents and she sincerely hoped that someday Paul would get used to it. Simon didn’t seem to take offense.

  “Well that’s quite a story,” he said, “and one my brother Seth used to tell with relish. I have always considered myself a pretty good skier and on this particular occasion my brother and I had visited a ski resort just north of Ottawa. We both arrived stag and there was this cutest little ski bunny on the slopes. I remember she was dressed in a hot pink jumpsuit with this delectable zipper up the front. She had the mandatory white ski boots, long blonde hair, and the clearest china blue eyes you’d ever seen. I fell instantly in love. I remember Seth warning me about how treacherous the slope was and reminding me to be extremely careful on one particularly sharp turn. But there she was, that pink angel in the snow, and I decided to prove what an expert skier I am.”

  Angie took a bit of her sandwich and munched happily. This was the kind of story she loved.

  “Anyway, I swore I had everything under control, but while heading downhill this tree reached out and tripped me.”

  “The tree reached out and tripped you?” repeated Julia. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of that happening before.”

  “I swear to God that’s what happened,” said Simon, crossing his heart. “I’m positive I was at least three feet away from that blasted tree before it just jumped into my path and stuck out a root. My skis got all tangled up and I flew head over heels to find myself embracing the tree trunk. After my brother finally stopped laughing the medical team from the resort rushed me to the emergency ward and I’ve unfortunately paid for my infatuation with the pink snow bunny by sporting a very unsexy limp ever since. The leg was coming along just fine until I re-injured it a couple of months ago and now must seek further physical therapy.”

  “That just goes to show you need to watch out for blondes,” said Paul, winking at his sister and taking hearty bite of his reuben sandwich. He followed it up with a large gulp of bottled beer while Angie punched his arm.

  “That was a nice story,” stated Julia, wiping her mouth and pushing her plate away. Half of her turkey sandwich remained untouched and Paul frowned.

  “Ah, that reminds me,” said Simon, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his billfold. Flipping it open he retrieved a glossy photograph. Julia wiped her hands before taking the extended photograph.

  “That was snapped just before the ski bunny incident. Would you like to have it?” Both Angie and Paul leaned over to gaze at the glossy photo which showed Seth and Simon, arms about each other’s shoulders and dressed in identical white and navy blue ski suits, their poles balanced upon their shoulders. They appeared happy and carefree; Simon laughing while Seth, always the more serious, gazed somberly at the camera.

  “I wouldn’t mind a copy,” said Julia. “But I suspect it’s one of the last taken of you two together. I think you should keep the original, Simon. But a copy would be great.”

  “I’ll see if I can find the negative for you,” said Simon lightly, not enjoying the dark expression hovering over her face. “It’s very evident from this photograph that I’m the much better skier.”

  Angie snorted with laughter and even Julia managed to grin. “Oh really? Is that before or after your leg was placed in a cast?” They all laughed heartily as Simon tucked the photo back into his wallet.

  If Julia had been more observant she might have noticed Simon often casting a glance over his shoulder as he scanned the busy promenade of Santa Barbara or even spotted a dark-haired denim-clad man lounging near where they wandered unhurriedly down the long boardwalk. Once, a nonchalant Simon nodded to the mustached man who casually strolled in the opposite direction. Julia never noticed the slight bulge under the left armhole of Simon’s jacket for she kept herself respectively distant from him. Perhaps it was best she didn’t know that in Seth’s brother she had inherited a bodyguard.

  Chapter Eight

  So began the slow deliberate development of a casual relationship between Simon and Julia. He didn’t press any sort of romantic suit, but instead disarmed her into friendship by giving her a casual call, or suggesting he bring over some Chinese food. He called her one night asking for advice about finding a decent physical therapist who could work on his leg.

  “I know there’s one in a medical park near Pacific Oaks Road on Elwood Beach, just north of the university in Goleta Valley.” Julia rummaged around her desk searching for the card given her by a student’s mother a couple of years ago. “Here it is,” she said, and dictated the phone number. “I hear Sharon Thompson is really good. I taught her daughter two years ago and she’s apparently built up quite a clientele.”

  “Thanks, I’ll give her a ring,” he stated
casually, and didn’t prolong the call.

  The next time she saw him he visibly limped.

  “Have you seen the physical therapist?” she asked, alarmed.

  “You mean the killer therapist?” stated Simon grimly between clenched teeth. “Yeah, I had my first appointment on the fifteenth and she’s arranged to see me three times a week for the next month. She said her torture will help rebuild my strength around the injured area.”

  Julia had to laugh. He’d met her that evening to enjoy a quick burger and a chat.

  “How many treatments have you had so far?”

  “Only two thank God, but she’s fitting me in on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday next week. I was hoping she wouldn’t have a slot open.”

  Julia laughed because talking with Simon was always entertaining. She sipped her diet soda and watched as he added horseradish to his burger. Julia grimaced; this one trait of both twins she could never actively embrace herself.

  “So, have you been keeping yourself busy?”

  “I’ve actually been attending some lectures at the Santa Barbara campus since it’s not far from my physical therapy. I’ve also been doing research on the Los Angeles county area and want to travel south sometime to visit Disneyland and Universal Studios.”

  “I remember doing all that,” said Julia. “My brother and I used to make it our summer ritual to visit either Knott’s or Disneyland. My parents refused to go to both every summer so we had to alternate. When they finally opened Magic Mountain they were relieved because it was so much closer.”

  “So you grew up in this area?”

  “Actually I spent my formative years in LA before moving to Goleta when my dad got a job connected to an architectural firm catering to the engineering research center attached to the university. I think I was probably about ten at the time and from the beginning knew Santa Barbara was where I wanted to live my life. So here I am nearly twenty years later.”

  “And what a lovely spot it is,” stated Simon, gazing out onto the softly rolling hills giving way to the majestic Pacific Ocean.

  He had to agree Santa Barbara was one of the loveliest secrets of southern California, located just north of Los Angeles and Ventura. The city, with its old trees and quiet neighborhoods, belied the bustling university and civic center. One could visit the stately mission, attend an amazing variety of activities at the university, or simply drive along the beautiful highway fronting the beach. True, Santa Barbara was pricey and overdeveloped but Julia couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  “So you received your degree from UCSB?”

  “Yes I did, though I actually attended UCLA for two years as a freshman and sophomore while entertaining the notion of becoming a screenwriter or cinematographer. However, I gradually changed my mind and decided to be a teacher after working with handicapped children during a special university sponsored program at the UCLA Medical Center. I still love LA and Hollywood. In fact, I’m heading down to UCLA at the end of the month because my principal, Connie Fernandez, is a Flamenco Dancer and she’s part of the entertainment during the annual Hispanic festival.”

  “That sounds like a lot of fun,” said Simon. “Just when are you leaving?”

  “The day after Halloween. Connie designs the most beautiful flamenco dresses of flaming yellow, red, and white and is quite an accomplished dancer. A few of the staff are planning to head down to watch her on Novemberfirst and she wants me to film her in action.”

  Julia continued chatting about her principal, relating how they’d become good friends over the past three years and played racquetball occasionally at the local gym. Simon desperately wanted to ask her more about her jaunt down to Los Angeles, but decided to hold off. It was too soon to tag along, so after dinner he casually walked her to the blue Taurus. Julia raised a hand to him before driving off into the fading light. A movement touched his periphery vision and he observed a man pull away in a silver sedan. Simon’s heart lurched since Adam Gable was known to prefer silver vehicles. Unfortunately, the car disappeared before he could take down the license plate number, propelling him to give Stan Garten a call.

  Over the next two weeks Simon kept a low profile, continuing his physical therapy doggedly and occasionally visiting Angie and Paul for lunch on the weekends. He was always friendly and disarming, never once indicating any interest in Julia other than casual friendship and saw her only occasionally, always in the presence of Paul and Angie.

  On Wednesday, Octobertwenty-seventh, Paul gave Simon a call. Simon had just gotten back from physical therapy and was in a thoroughly rotten mood. There wasn’t any part of his body that didn’t ache, and while he was certain the treatment would be beneficial in the long run he still cursed his body’s inability to heal itself without help. He growled a terse hello into the phone.

  “Is this a bad time?” returned Paul’s pleasant voice.

  “Hey Paul. I’m really sorry, but I just got back from physical therapy and I’m not feeling too chipper. What can I do for you?”

  “I actually have a big favor to ask and please feel free to say no if any part of it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Go ahead, shoot,” said Simon, putting on the kettle.

  “My sister is heading down to UCLA this weekend to take some footage of her boss’ flamenco dancing session during the Hispanic Celebration.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard about it,” said Simon as mildly as possible, trying to disguise his intense interest.

  “You know Julia hasn’t ventured out much alone, and well I was kinda hoping…”

  “That I’d make some excuse and tag along?”

  “Yes, that’s it. She staunchly refused having either Angie or I come down, saying she didn’t need chaperones, and I know you’ve been wanting to visit LA and check out Hollywood Boulevard and Universal Studios. I thought… well… that maybe you could somehow convince her to let you come along?”

  “And how am I going to do that Paul? She’s been fine with having lunch occasionally and talking about Seth for old time’s sake, but if I tried to join her in Los Angeles, she’d suspect I had ulterior motives.”

  “But you do have an ulterior motive,” said Paul. “To help her recover.”

  “Okay,” sighed Simon, pouring hot water over the tea bag to brew. “And just how do I go about hitching a ride with her?”

  “Can’t you just show up? She’s staying at the Getaway Suites near Westwood and maybe you can kinda check into the same hotel?”

  “So the Los Angeles county area has about ten million people right?”

  “Yeah,” replied Paul.

  “And you want me to just happen to bump into her? I don’t think so.”

  “You have a better idea?”

  “Sure, I’ll tell her you’re incredibly worried about her and if she doesn’t allow me to tag along you’ll be in her suitcase.”

  “I’m sure that would work,” Paul scoffed.

  “Well it better than just bumping into her at the Hispanic Festival. If I do that, she’ll probably think I’m some sort of stalker and call the cops. You leave it to me; I’ll work it out. And Paul, you should look on the bright side. At least she wants to venture down to LA; certainly that’s got to be considered a breakthrough.”

  “Yeah, but she seems so melancholy all the time.”

  “Well, what can you expect? What’s it been now, ten months?”

  Paul sighed morosely on the other end of the line. “So you’ll do it?”

  “I’ll try but you owe me BIG time. You keep promising to take me to a Lakers game, and this time I’m going to hold you to it. I’ll give you a call and let you know what comes of my finagling. Just keep your fingers crossed.”

  Simon didn’t waste any time and rang Julia up that very evening.

  “Do you mind if I stop by?” he asked. “Something’s come up and I have to speak with you.”

  “Alright,” said Julia, surprised at the urgency in his voice. “Come right over.”

  Simon liked
the airiness of her modern apartment; its cool cream walls complimented by the bright green drooping stems of healthy house plants. Mira immediately ran up to him and sniffed his leg, giving her curled tail a wiggle before leaping onto the couch.

  “Off the couch Mira,” reprimanded Julia. “You know you’re not supposed to sit there!” The dog sadly but obediently jumped down onto the rag rug designated as her special spot. She circled twice and sank down, resting her beautiful pointed muzzle upon dainty paws before following Simon with her dark brown eyes.

  “Something to drink Simon?”

  “No, I’m fine,” he answered, sinking down onto the comfortable couch after giving the furry dog an affectionate pat. The heavy breathing designating the Keeshond breed proved comforting, enabling one to always know the whereabouts of their faithful dog.

  “So what is it?” asked Julia, adjusting the embroidered pillow Grandma Rose had made for her before leaning back in her mauve recliner.

  “It’s about your brother.”

  “Paul?” cried Julia alarmed. “Is something the matter?”

  “Well not per se. Listen Julia, Paul rang me up this morning, requesting I accompany you to LA.”

  “What?”

  “He’s worried about you Julia. He’s afraid you’ll get all melancholy without some sort of support around and since he knows I want to explore the region, asked if I could somehow hitch a ride with you.”

  “I see,” said Julia carefully. “And were you against this plan?”

  Simon shrugged vaguely. He wore his normal uniform of a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a worn pair of trainers. “I wouldn’t say I’m exactly against it, but I’m smart enough to know you don’t need a chaperone or a babysitter.”