by Brenda Novak
“He’s been through a lot. If he hadn’t found out about Lucky at such a vulnerable time—”
“We didn’t know she existed until three years after the accident.”
“He still hadn’t come to terms with his losses, Reenie. When Lucky returned to town, he was living like a hermit in that cabin of his, remember?”
“I remember. I just—I wish he’d let himself care about her.”
Liz gave her friend a sympathetic expression. “I’m sure he will in time.”
“You haven’t had any more trouble with that vandal who tore your sink from the wall, have you?” she asked.
“No,” Liz said, but she couldn’t remember telling Reenie about the sink. “How’d you know about that?”
“Keith mentioned it to me. He was upset you thought he was behind it.”
“I’m not positive he wasn’t,” Liz admitted.
“He’s made mistakes, but he’s not destructive like that.”
Liz turned back to the phone. “That reminds me. I still haven’t heard from the plumber.”
Reenie paused to look inside the bathroom. “What do you need him for?”
“So I can get the darn thing reattached.”
“It is reattached.”
Surprised, Liz retraced her steps and peered over her sister-in-law’s shoulder. Sure enough, the sink was just as it should be. Even the wall had been patched and painted. “It wasn’t that way this morning,” she said.
“Carter must’ve fixed that, too. But weren’t you here with him all day?”
“I left for a little while, to pick the kids up from school. I wanted to help them with their homework and buy them an ice cream cone before dropping them at Keith’s parents’ house.”
“He must’ve done it while you were gone. But you’d think he would have told you.”
Most men would’ve been eager to collect the praise they deserved for such a good deed. But not Carter. “He’s different,” she said.
Reenie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Now you’re sounding as though you like different.”
“Not necessarily,” she said. But deep down she knew she liked it, maybe even too much. She had a lot of resolve, but she wasn’t sure how she’d avoid visiting Carter’s cabin over the ensuing weeks and months. Friday had been far too satisfying—and they’d gotten away with it far too easily.
There’s always the other school of thought…Taking advantage of something while it lasts…
THAT NIGHT, LIZ SIGNED ON to the Internet while Christopher and Mica sat next to her creating a pyramid out of sugar cubes for Mica’s school project. Mary Thornton had said she’d send some information regarding a joint ad they might run in the newspaper, and Dave had mentioned a couple of messages, too. Once she caught up on her e-mail, she wanted to search the Internet for some ideas. She planned to introduce one new chocolate-covered goodie each month as a “featured” item. For Valentine’s Day, she already had in mind a special mix of chocolate-covered coffee beans, marshmallows, raisins and pecans. She wasn’t positive it would work as an aphrodisiac as well as Vianne’s special chocolates had, but it would certainly keep folks from falling asleep at an inopportune time.
Mary’s message was brief. She described the various sizes of ads they could purchase and listed the cost of each. She also noted that they’d have to submit their information to the paper by Wednesday. Liz figured she should participate, and she decided to work on the layout in the morning. She sent Mary a response telling her as much, then opened her next message.
It was from Dave who said he missed her and asked if she’d come to L.A. in a few weeks. In the back of her mind, Liz had been considering a visit. But now she’d probably be so busy with the shop she wouldn’t have a chance.
She found it interesting that being too busy came as a relief instead of a disappointment.
Unsure of the best way to break the news, she put off her response and clicked on Dave’s other message, which turned out to be a questionnaire.
1. What’s the one thing you admire most in the opposite sex?
She considered her answer. Honesty. She wasn’t sure she’d have chosen that particular trait before the whole disaster with Keith, but these days it topped her list.
She went on to question two. Would you rather be with someone good-looking or someone who made you laugh?
Laugh. Definitely.
3. Would you rather be with someone who told you how they felt or showed you how they felt?
Showed. Keith had been generous with his words, but his actions had nearly destroyed her.
4. If you could talk to one person right now, who would that be?
Liz considered everyone she knew, including Isaac, Reenie, Keith and Dave. Carter was the only one she excluded from the group, but he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, anyway.
Dave.
5. What’s your favorite part of a man’s anatomy?
Carter’s unusual eyes came immediately to mind. But she couldn’t remember Dave’s with that much clarity, so she went for what she could recall more clearly—a pair of muscular legs.
6. If you could reach out and touch one person, who would it be?
Dave again, right? Of course. Dave, Dave, Dave. Not Carter. Carter was too close and too alone in that cabin of his. And the answer to every other question had been Dave. Carter didn’t make her laugh. He was too focused, too intense. He didn’t have much to say, either.
But he communicated well enough with his hands. And he was more honest than anyone she’d ever met.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
Liz glanced up to see her two children studying her curiously.
“Nothing, why?”
“You were frowning,” Mica said.
“I was?”
“Like this.” Christopher pulled his eyebrows together and scowled deeply.
“Are you sad that Grandpa left so soon?”
Mica and Chris didn’t know what had happened with Gordon. Liz preferred to keep it that way, at least until they were older. They barely knew him anyway. “No, I was concentrating.”
“On your e-mail?” Mica asked skeptically.
“It’s nothing important,” Liz replied, but she couldn’t focus exclusively on Chris or Mica because her eyes had already skimmed down the page to the final question: 10. If you could make love with anyone right now, who would it be?
Oh, boy. She wasn’t about to consider that one. She didn’t want to know the answer.
Moving her cursor to the X, she closed the window and smiled at her children. “Shall we go read?”
Mica and Christopher responded eagerly. They were in the middle of Christopher Paolini’s Eldest, which Mica particularly found riveting. But when Liz returned to her e-mail after her children were in bed, so she could formulate a reply to Dave, she came across one other unopened message with the subject header, The Lady of Shalott. Perplexed, she opened it to find only one line.
You’d rather remain safe in your tower and let life pass you by while watching in a mirror?
There was no signature, but the sender’s e-mail address let her know who it was from: [email protected]. Carter. But she couldn’t remember ever giving him her e-mail address.
“How strange,” she muttered, pondering his question for several seconds. Obviously, he’d read the poem and correctly interpreted her earlier allusion. The Lady of Shalott had risked everything for love and lost. Liz was afraid of such a risk. But was safety worth the cost?
She imagined herself watching the people out on the street from behind the window of The Chocolaterie. Was she preparing for a life alone? A life devoted solely to her work and her children?
She didn’t think so. Not even subconsciously. When she really thought about it, the Lady of Shalott didn’t remind Liz of herself so much as it reminded her of Carter. He was the one working tirelessly to wall everyone out. The one watching life pass him by. She might’ve been hurt before, and maybe she was a bit skittish as a result,
but she was still willing to risk her heart.
Hitting the reply button, she responded with one line of her own:
Are you sure I’m the one in the tower?
A JINGLE ALERTED CARTER to the delivery of a new e-mail message. Clicking over from his word processing program, he saw that Liz had finally returned his message.
He opened it to see what she had to say, blinking several times as the meaning behind her cryptic response sank in. Was she crazy? He’d lived life so up-close and personal that he’d been unable to separate his job from his private life. He’d risked his skin, known the darkest side of human nature, discovered truths that would disillusion even the most idealistic person. He’d tracked a twisted psychopath day and night and managed to put him away. And he’d fallen in love with the one victim who’d survived.
Maybe those things were in the past. But Liz didn’t understand that it was all no good. What was the point of embracing life so fully? Of sacrificing so much? Of loving so hard?
“That’s bullshit,” he said and closed her message. But only a few seconds later he opened up Tennyson’s poem and read it again, gravitating to one particular phrase.
I am half sick of shadows, said the Lady of Shalott.
“I am half sick of shadows….” he repeated aloud.
Well, maybe Liz was in a position to eschew the dark, but as far as Carter was concerned it was the shadows that made life bearable.
He glanced at the envelope that had come by overnight courier—and once again he refused to open it.
RANDY AND KRISTEN BELLINI still lived next door to the house in Long Beach that Gordon had owned with Chloe. Gordon had bumped into their oldest son at a restaurant a few months back and had learned that much. He’d also learned that Randy and Kristen were empty-nesters. Their two daughters had graduated from college and were married; their youngest boy was living on campus at UCLA.
Their lives seemed ideal—and completely unaffected by the past. Even their house was the same. With the moon shining brightly, Gordon could see that it was still painted light blue with dark blue trim, or something close. The bougainvillea that had always grown against the chimney continued to thrive. The planters in the small turret surrounding the front door remained, and Kristen’s favorite petunias lined both sides of the path leading up to the entrance.
The garage had a different door. That was all. And now that the kids were gone, only a single car—a new Audi—occupied the drive.
Gordon sat at the curb, staring at the well-kept home. He hadn’t showered in two days, had slept only a few hours at a rest stop on the drive from Salt Lake. He knew he probably looked like hell. But he didn’t care. After a brief “stutter” in his relationship with his wife, Randy had gone on as if he’d done nothing wrong. Except that he couldn’t meet Gordon’s eyes again.
Dropping his head into his hands, Gordon rubbed his temples. He’d served in Vietnam with Randy. How could his best friend have betrayed him with the one person Gordon had loved beyond any other?
He’d wondered that for almost two decades. He’d confronted Randy right after Kristen had told him the truth, but Randy had refused to say anything. He’d just stared down at his feet. Now, maybe after all this time, he could explain why he’d done what he’d done. It wasn’t as if Gordon could ever achieve resolution by confronting Chloe. By the time he’d learned the truth, all he’d had left of her was memories and pictures.
Getting out of his car, he strode purposefully to the front door. It was nearly midnight. But that wouldn’t stop him from knocking. If he had to drag everyone in the whole neighborhood out of bed, he’d do it.
He banged on the door. When there was no response, he pounded more insistently. “Open up!”
After several minutes, a lamp was turned on inside, and the porch light soon followed. He heard movement in the living room. Then Randy cracked open the door, leaving the security chain in place.
“Gordon,” he said, his dark eyes narrowing with caution.
Gordon managed a bitter smile. His old friend had lines around his eyes and his mouth that hadn’t been there eighteen years ago, and a surfeit of gray in his hair. But he was as handsome as ever. If Gordon had his guess, Randy hadn’t gained a pound.
“That’s some greeting, Randy,” he said. “After so long.”
“It’s late. What are you doing here?”
“It is late,” Gordon agreed. “Eighteen years late. I should’ve knocked your head off back then. But I didn’t, did I? I accepted the knife you’d planted in my back and walked away.”
“No, you let it fester.”
“And you could’ve handled the news better?”
Randy bowed his head as if he couldn’t bear the shame of what he’d done.
“Anyway, I just told Liz I’m not her daddy. Thought you might like to know that.”
This made Randy look up. “You told her?” He shook his head—either in disgust or disbelief, Gordon couldn’t tell until Randy spoke again. “You stupid bastard.”
“I am stupid,” Gordon snapped. “I trusted you, didn’t I? I believed you were my friend.”
“I loved you like a brother,” Randy said.
Gordon hooted with laughter. “You had a funny way of showing it. I wish I’d never met you.”
Randy flinched as if Gordon had slapped him, but Gordon wasn’t finished. “Are you sure you want to leave me standing out here?”
“You’re not yourself tonight, Gordon. I don’t want to let you in. Kristen’s asleep and it’s not fair to her that—”
“Fair to her? What about me, old friend? I think you should remember your manners. Otherwise, I might tell the whole damned neighborhood…” Now that the idea had occurred to him, Gordon turned and shouted the rest of what he had to say “That you cheated on your wife and screwed mine, that you fathered my only daughter. Can you believe it, folks?” he yelled. “This upstanding member of your community, this admirable father of four—no, it’s five, isn’t it? Including the daughter who should be mine?—betrayed his very best friend.”
Behind him, the chain scraped and Randy yanked the door open. “Get in here,” he snapped.
Gordon chuckled as he stepped across the threshold, but he felt only pain and anger. He hated the fact that Liz had Randy’s coloring, his height, his broad forehead, high cheekbones and full lips.
It wasn’t supposed to be that way….
“Randy, what is it? What’s going on?” Kristen sounded frightened as she tied the belt of her robe and peered at them from the hallway. Then recognition dawned and even across the room, Gordon could see the color drain from her face.
“I’ve got it, honey,” Randy said gently.
“It’s just me,” Gordon said. “You do remember me, don’t you?”
She stared at him for several seconds, then disappeared.
“She’s going back to bed?” he said in surprise. “Damn, that woman will put up with anything.”
“Not quite,” Randy said, his voice low. “She told you, didn’t she? She did it, knowing it’d ruin our friendship. An eye for an eye. And she’s never trusted me or loved me the same since.”
“Gee, I feel terrible for you,” Gordon replied.
“I’m not asking for your sympathy.”
“What are you asking for?”
“Nothing. I don’t deserve your friendship any more than I deserve her love. That’s why I haven’t come around.”
“You were around for fourteen years after you screwed my wife!”
Randy rubbed his jaw. “I have no excuses to offer you. Is that why you’re here? So I’ll grovel and tell you how terrible I feel? So I’ll plead for your forgiveness? If I thought that would help, I would’ve done it years ago. God, how I’ve missed you. But I knew you wouldn’t want to see me.”
“A little groveling might have been nice,” Gordon said, as if he hadn’t heard Randy’s other words. “To see that it’s affected you at all would be a step in the right direction.”
&nb
sp; “I’m sorry,” Randy said. “I’ve been sorry since the day it happened.”
“The day it happened?”
“Yes.”
“You slept with her only once?” Gordon knew he shouldn’t ask, but he’d be damned if he could stop himself.
Randy cleared his throat. “I said one day.”
“A whole day.” Gordon folded his arms. Those words hit him like pointed darts, but he refused to show it. “You’re right. Sorry doesn’t help.”
“So what are you doing here?” Randy asked in confusion. “To tell me you just destroyed Liz?”
“No, to tell you—” Gordon couldn’t speak because of the lump in his throat. Blinking back the tears that were burning his eyes, he swallowed and tried again. “To tell you if she contacts you, you’d better be kind, you hear? You’d better give her what I couldn’t give her. You owe me that much, you son of a bitch.”
“You told her it was me?” he gasped.
“Not yet. But she’ll get around to asking. Some day. She’ll find out.”
Tears welled in Randy’s eyes. “It’s been so long, and you love her so much. Why’d you give her up now? Why would you do that?”
“Why’d you sleep with my wife in the first place?” Gordon murmured in response, but the hard shell that had protected him so far was already slipping away, revealing his vulnerability and pain. As much as he hated that, he couldn’t seem to help it.
“I wish I had an answer for you,” Randy said.
“Then, maybe you can tell me about Chloe’s part in…in what you did together.”
Straightening up, Randy dashed a hand across his cheeks. “Chloe didn’t want to get involved. I—I thought I was in love with her and I kept trying to get us alone. It was my fault.”
Gordon clenched his teeth, trying to dismiss the image that had already done damage to his soul, and nodded. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
