Anna started and her heart thudded in panic. "Oh no, I don’t think so. I couldn’t."
"I do understand how you feel. However, you have to simply go ahead and do it, sometime."
“‘Simply.’ Huh. I know you're right, but it's just too soon." She hunched her shoulders, and put her hands in her pockets, drawing into herself. "It would feel as if I was being unfaithful to Mike."
"I know it hasn’t been long for you, nine or ten months. It's just that if you wait, it doesn’t get any easier. Believe me. I’m living proof. And I like you. I’d like to spend some time with you. I don’t want to wait six months or a year more to see you. It’s selfish, but it’s true. Besides, it's not as if I'm asking you to have an affair. I just want to give you a little male support at a time when you need it."
She looked up at him, dismayed. "I just can’t. Please understand."
"It doesn’t have to be like a date. We could go as two friends, friends who want to spend some time together and share a nice meal. You need to get out. It’ll be good for you." He peered at her speculatively. "What if I didn’t give you a choice? That way you wouldn’t feel so much as if you were violating your husband’s memory. If I just turned up at your doorstep at seven o’clock Saturday night, it would take the decision out of your hands. If I did that, would you make me turn around and leave?"
"No, of course not. That would be rude."
He smiled. "Good. Then I’ll be there."
She put her hands on her hips. "That’s not fair."
His smile widened. "I know. I apologize. It’ll be okay, though. You’ll see." He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "See you Saturday."
She stood mutely, unable to say anything, even if she could have thought of anything to say, and watched him go. He was a nice man—kind, understanding, gentle. It might be good for her to spend some time with him. He wasn’t Mike, however. He never would be. He’d said it wouldn’t be like a date, but it would be. Her panic grew.
Anna felt as if everything was crowding her at once. Not only had Jeff had pressured her into agreeing to a date, but she'd taken the kids to buy school clothes with money she didn't have and there were bound to be more purchases when classes actually started again next Wednesday and they came home with their lists.
In the past, she'd enjoyed getting new clothes for the kids and shopping for notebooks and folders and new pens. This year she'd have forgone back-to-school shopping completely except Brian had grown two inches over the summer and Mallory was filling out so she needed bras and roomier tops. And the school supply lists. Ack. She figured teachers must think parents were made of money. It was a sin.
By Saturday evening, Anna was a nervous wreck. She was, in alternate moments, tempted to call Jeff at the station and use any means necessary to keep him from turning up, or going to the hairdresser despite the cost, and have her too-long hair cut and styled for him. She was a terrified mass of conflicting emotions and unraveled nerves.
The music blasting from Mallory's room was the end result of a very bad scene late in the afternoon after Anna told her about her date with Jeff.
"Jeff Thomas?" she'd screeched. "You mean the policeman? Detective Thomas who picked me up at the record store, you're going out with that policeman?"
"Yes. Is there anything wrong with that?"
"It's humiliating. He's the one who’s responsible for me almost getting arrested."
"No, he's not. You're the one responsible for almost getting arrested."
"He's a policeman."
"You say it like he's a Martian or something. He's a nice man."
"I didn't notice."
"No, probably not. Take my word for it. He's a nice man and I like him."
Mallory folded her arms across her chest and threw Anna a defiant look. "I don't see how you can go out with him at all."
Frustrated with the argument, Anna had started to turn away. Before she stormed out of her daughter’s room, she called back, "I told you he's a nice man, even if he is a policeman. Now drop it, will you?"
"That’s not what I meant." Mallory's sharp voice stopped her.
Anna stood with her trembling hand clutching the doorknob, still not looking back, afraid of what Mallory might see in her eyes.
"I don't know how you can go out with any man other than Daddy."
"Your father isn't here to go out with any more," Anna said, her voice turning icy. "So if I want to go out, I have to go with someone else."
"Is it that important to you to have a good time you'd go with someone who wasn't Daddy?"
"It's nice now and then."
"Daddy hasn't even been gone long."
Anna frowned and her fingers tightened on the doorknob. "I'm not defiling his memory or anything by seeing Jeff."
"It seems to me you are. It feels wrong."
"It's not. Your father would have wanted me to continue on with my life and to enjoy it as much as I can."
"I don't see how you can enjoy anything without Daddy."
"For your information," Anna retorted, nearly out of patience, "I do find it difficult to enjoy anything without your father. It's not easy at all going out with another man after being married to your father for fourteen years. I was reluctant to go tonight."
"Then why are you going?"
Anna turned back to her daughter, tears pooling in her eyes. "Because I have to. I have to start getting on with living. If I sit in a corner and content myself with nothing but memories, I might as well have climbed into the coffin with him."
"Couldn't you wait until next summer or next fall to start going out? It's too soon," Mallory whined.
"If I waited until then, it'd be as hard, if not harder. You have to accept I'm going to go out with other men. Starting with Jeff."
"I can't. You belong to Dad. I can't even bear thinking about you being with someone else."
"Dad isn't here." Anna cried, her tears starting to track down her face. She angrily swiped them away. "I want him to be, but he isn't. All your wishing and all my wishing isn't going to make him come back. Nothing will do that. I've got to learn to go on without him, no matter how hard it is. I've got to."
"All right. Go if you want to. I'm telling you I don't like it and I never will." Mallory burst into tears and ran to the bed where she threw herself face down on the coverlet with an anguished sob.
Anna stood for a few more seconds, her fingers clenching and unclenching on the doorknob. Then she stepped out and slammed the door on Mallory's hysterics, and fled down the hall to the rec room.
Brian didn't scream and yell and carry on when she told him she was going out. She almost wished he had. He stood, silent in the middle of the floor, his eyes wide and frightened. Anna's heart ached for him, standing there looking lost and alone. "Mr. Thomas is a nice man. I know you'll like him."
"I—I don't even know him."
"You will after tonight. I'll introduce you."
"Will you be gone long?"
"No, not too long. A couple of hours, maybe. Your sister will be here to baby sit for you. She's done it before and you're used to it."
He nodded and watched as she left the room.
Brian knew from the yelling he'd heard, the slamming door, and the loud music afterwards, there was not much chance he'd see his sister at all after his mother left. He'd be alone.
He was certain it'd be a miserable, lonely evening. Maybe if he went to bed right after she left, he wouldn't notice she wasn't there. In spite of his fears, he wanted his mother to go. He still felt guilty she'd been left alone when his father died. Brian didn't want to do anything, anything at all, to make her even more unhappy. His father was gone so he probably had already done enough.
"You go have a good time. We'll be okay," he yelled to his mother in the living ro
om.
The doorbell rang. Anna, looking into the mirror over the buffet to make sure her casual navy dress looked right, jumped. She been uncertain all week if she really had the nerve to go out, and now that he was here, her anxiety increased tenfold. A date? How would she ever do it? It'd been fourteen years since she'd been on a date. Good God. The doorbell rang again.
Standing on the front porch, Jeff felt nervous. It might have been three years since his wife left him, but for a long time before that he and his ex-wife hadn't had anything remotely resembling a marriage. With that kind of history behind him, it was no wonder he'd not gone on a single date since his divorce. He'd coerced Anna into going out with him because he knew from his own experience it only got harder the longer you waited.
At first he'd not gone out because he was hurt and disillusioned. Then his son went through a rough time adjusting to his mother's abandonment. Then he himself endured a long period of depression and self-doubt. Then . . . then . . .
There'd always been another reason and yet another. Oh, he'd hung out with friends, and gone to parties where he'd met and enjoyed the company of some women. But, asking a woman to go out with him, picking her up at her house, taking her somewhere and bringing her home; that sort of thing? No.
He didn't know why, out of the blue, he had experienced an unprecedented urge to ask Anna for a date after all this time. For whatever reason, though, he had. And now, for better or worse, he was here.
He'd rung the doorbell twice and no one had answered. Was she been so frightened of going somewhere with him that she'd slipped out somewhere with the children in order not to be home when he got there? He leaned over and peered into the window beside the door. There were lights on. The door opened as he straightened up.
Anna stood fidgeting as she watched Jeff on the doorstep. "Hi." He wore a gray suit and he looked quite overwhelming. He was taller than Mike, but thinner, and his face beneath his gray-sprinkled dark hair was even-featured, bordering on handsome.
"Sorry it took me a few minutes to answer the door. I—uh—”
"You were tempted not to answer it?"
"Uh . . ." Her eyes flickered for a moment before she looked back up at him.
"You don't have to pretend with me, Anna." He twirled his keys around his forefinger. "You can be honest about your feelings. I've been through an experience pretty similar to yours and I know how you feel." One side of his mouth quirked upwards. "I haven't gone out much to speak of either and I'm almost as nervous as you are."
"We should be a great pair tonight. Both of us skittish as colts and dancing around each other, afraid to make contact." She shifted, restless, to the balls of her feet and then realized they'd been talking through the doorway all this time. She motioned to him and opened the door. "Come on in for a second while I get my trench coat. It's chilly tonight.” She felt something brush the back of her leg and looked around to find her son. "This is my son, Brian. Brian, meet Mr. Thomas."
Brian stood behind her and offered a watery smile to Jeff, who squatted down to shake his hand.
"Where are we going?" Anna asked. "I need to give the number to Mallory on case of emergency."
"We'll be in a restaurant near the mall." He handed her the name.
Fetching another piece of paper from the desk, she looked up the number and wrote it down.
Anna noted, as she ran up the stairs to give the information to Mallory, the music was still blaring. Also, the door was locked. When she knocked, Mallory answered the door and gave her a blank, hazy look. "This is where we'll be," Anna told her as she handed over the paper. "Call if there's an emergency. Not being able to find a snack is not an emergency."
As she headed downstairs, Anna wondered about the strange, sweet smell in Mallory's room. Maybe it’s one of her incense sticks.
In the living room, Jeff helped her on with her coat. “Everything all right?" He motioned up the stairs.
"I guess so. She isn't happy about my going out with you."
"I wouldn't expect her to be. She'll get used to it."
Chapter 9
Anna had been by the restaurant several times, parking at the mall, but she’d never been inside. Most of her mall dining consisted of a slice of pizza in the food court or indulging in a cone as she window-shopped.
This restaurant was lovely inside, and they were seated downstairs in front of a huge roaring fire which kept the early fall chill at bay.
They both ordered steaks, his rare and hers medium. Anna leaned back, sipped her wine, and looked with appreciation at the dim, elegant English Tavern ambiance. She'd missed going out to nice places like this. And she realized it wasn't as awkward being with Jeff as she'd feared it would be.
They sat, relaxed, chatting about everything and nothing until their salads came. The steak entrees were tender and delicious.
Over coffee, he leaned forward, his forearms on the tablecloth and his hands around his coffee cup. "So tell me about yourself."
She smiled and shook her head. "It's all pretty dull stuff. I doubt you'd want to hear it."
"I do. Or I wouldn't ask."
She took a deep breath. “I grew up an only child. Went to college, met Mile in my junior year and quit to get married. Had my kids, then we moved into our dream home. And then I became a widow,” she said baldly. “Pretty cut-and-dried.”
“But that’s not all there is to you, Anna. What's your favorite food, your favorite television show, what kinds of movies do you like, what kinds of books?"
"Ah, the hard stuff." She found she could grin. "Let's see—lasagna, Ellen, dramatic romantic epics requiring three tissues, and historical novels, although the ones about the Arthurian legend are my favorite."
He raised his eyebrow. "Now that's more like it. You like to read things about Camelot, eh?"
"Yup. The Once and Future King by T.H. White is the best. Rose Stewart's done some fine books on it, too."
"You must be a romantic."
"Yes, I admit it. Are you a romantic? An idealist?"
"After seventeen years on the police force? You gotta be kidding. If there's anywhere you learn about the underside of human nature, it's working in law enforcement. Some days I have to fight to maintain my own sanity, let alone my idealism."
"You don't seem like a cynical man. You seem to me to be compassionate and understanding."
"Thanks, I try to be. If I stopped being empathetic, I'd stop being a good cop. I'd quit the force if it happened. I don't have any illusions about people, though. I've learned to be realistic because I've been forced to."
"What do you do when you're not working?"
"Let's see. I like sports, especially soccer, and I coach my son's soccer team. I like to read mysteries and," he adopted a mock-covert attitude, “westerns. I can't help it. I'm addicted. I've even seen every one of Reagan's movies."
She laughed. "And what about your favorite food and all?"
"I suppose I owe you since you told me about your favorite. Okay, steak, Monday Night Football, though I'm not exactly a fan of Terry Bradshaw, and Psycho is my favorite movie.” He held out his hands, palms up. "You see? I'm a simple guy. I seldom go out. Most of my free time I spend with Cam or in my woodshop, where I make wooden toys."
At his words a pang shuddered through Anna, and her eyes closed in pain for a moment.
As she fidgeted in distress, Jeff said, "I don't do big toys, only small things like trains and cars and wooden puzzles. I've inundated every kid of every relative I know with my toys. Finally, I hung out a small sign to sell a few. At Christmas I give a bunch to Toys for Tots. It gives me some extra cash, which comes in handy for presents at Christmas. And I enjoy working with wood and I can never resist buying a beautiful piece of wood, whether I have a specific use for it or not. I just love the look and feel of a gorgeous speci
men."
She could tell he’d finally noticed her discomfort. "Are you okay? You look pale."
"I'm fine," she lied. "Tell me about your son."
Jeff grinned with pride, and pulled a picture out of his wallet, handing it to her. "His name is Cameron, but we call him Cam. He likes to help me out in my woodshop. Pretty soon he'll be better than his old dad. He enjoys putting embellishments on the toys. Curlicues and detailing around knobs and stuff."
This time she couldn't hide the pain, and she dropped the picture on the tablecloth.
"What's the matter? And don't tell me nothing like you did last time."
"It's just—too much coincidence, I guess." Shakily, she folded her napkin and laid it on the table. "My husband loved making things with wood in his shop, too."
"Oh. I'm sorry. I guess a lot of stuff hits you all at once sometimes. Are you all right?" He reached over and put his hand on hers, sending a hot shock through her almost as disturbing as the pain she'd felt when he'd been talking about his hobby.
She pulled her hand away and hid it beneath the tablecloth, trying to ignore the still-present tingling. "I'm fine now. A momentary meltdown." She picked up the picture again. The boy looked to be almost sixteen, with his father's dark hair falling in curls over his forehead. "He's quite good-looking. Takes after his father." She gave him a teasing grin.
"Mmm, he's a good kid. The last few years have been rough on him, but he's come through it okay. He's smart, too. He's on the honor roll every quarter of high school. He's been talking about wanting to become a clinical psychologist lately." Jeff stopped and laughed. "Good grief. If I don't stop pretty soon, I'll be dragging you to my apartment to look at home movies."
She smiled back at him. "It's not a crime to be proud of your kids. I'm proud of mine." Her smile faded. "They've had trouble recently, of course."
"They've been through a pretty traumatic experience. It's bound to affect them. They'll pull through it soon. Take my word for it."
Uncharted Fate Page 10
