It was almost twilight when Amy left the restaurant. Her grilled shrimp had tasted fantastic. She had even splurged on dessert—bourbon pecan pie. She pulled away from the curb and drove slowly down Meeting Street, turned left, and found herself a block from Drew’s house.
She paused at the corner, then allowed the car to roll slowly down the street. A light burned above his front steps. Another was visible inside, in Di’s old office, she thought.
She hit her brakes as she passed the gate. Inside, another car was parked next to Drew’s Lexus. She craned her neck for a good view, then slipped her car into reverse.
Light reflected from the red metallic paint and she could clearly see the BMW emblem on the trunk. Whose could it be? The gate was closed, and Drew never closed the gate until any visitor had departed. That meant that the person was staying.
She recalled the private investigator’s report. Maybe the car belonged to that woman, Rachel, the one he met online, the one he took to the jewelry store, the one he took to dinner. Was she spending the night? Were those her clothes in the bedroom closet? Had she dropped by to repay him for his gift?
“Is she the real reason that I was never invited to sleep over?”
Amy threw the car into drive, the tires squealing as she applied the accelerator. She circled the block, then turned toward the Battery. Only a few parking spaces were taken. She pulled her coat around her and slipped across to the rail. The clouds had rolled in again, except in the west, where the sun was about to sink below the horizon and the river was beginning to reflect the deep red light of sunset.
She walked along the Battery, up the steps, stopping at the top. To the right, she could see the lights on James Island, to the left, those on Sullivan’s. Straight ahead, she could make out the remains of Fort Sumter, guarding the spot where the harbor emptied into the Atlantic.
“I am such a fool,” she murmured. “Such a fool.”
Amy stood for several minutes, staring at the light swinging from the dock at the fort.
“Ms. Barrett, what are you doing so far from home on a night like this?”
Amy spun around, startled. “Drew?”
He stopped two steps away and she gazed behind him. Seeing that he appeared to be alone, she started to reach out to him, but he stepped back, and she let her arm fall to her side.
“I’ve been worried about you, Drew.”
“That would account for all of the telephone calls you made, all of the texts and emails which you sent…or didn’t.”
“I…I couldn’t talk to you, Drew. I was so confused.” She glanced around. They were alone. “I still am.” She looked down. “You asked me to leave you alone.”
Drew turned and looked out to sea. “You’re confused? About what? What confuses you, Amy?”
“Jack’s will, it was cruel. It was humiliating. The others—the attorney, his supervisor—all those men knew what he was up to. Not one of them told me.”
“And so you checked my bank account and planned to track my movements around town?”
“No. That was different. It wasn’t—”
“Was it different?” Drew leaned on the rail, staring out at the water. “You don’t trust me, Amy. You think I’m like your husband—that all men are.”
They stood in silence for almost a minute, and Amy dropped her eyes and stared into the water. She almost asked about the car, Rachel, the clothes—to justify her lack of trust—but there was no point.
“You know, deep down, it would never have worked. I was thinking at dinner of how different we are—where we live, where we work, what we enjoy, where we shop…”
“So if I were to shop at Kroger instead of Publix, everything would be all right?”
“Drew, don’t—”
He put his hand on Amy’s shoulder and turned her toward him. “What did I do that told you I’m better than you are? What did I say?”
“Nothing, Drew, nothing. You would never do that.”
“My friends, what did they do?”
“I told you about Sylvia…”
“Which of my friends?”
“No one, Drew.”
The wind began to pick up, and he looked up at the sky. “Storm clouds are moving in again. We’d both better be going.”
“Drew, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He spun about to face her again. “How was I supposed to feel? I was to feel happy, pleased, that the woman I loved was checking up on me. I was supposed to celebrate the fact that she believed I would cheat on her and post notice of it in public? I should have been excited that she thought I looked down on her?”
Amy dropped her eyes to the water again. “I don’t know what to say, Drew.”
“I’m not Jack, Amy. I’m neither his boss, nor his attorney—nor any of the other men that kept silent about his affair. What have I ever done to hurt you? What have I ever done to cause you to question me or my intentions?”
“What about the woman at the jewelry store, the car in your—”
He raised his hand, cutting her off. “I did nothing, that’s what. Yet you were certain that I would. You could read my mind.”
Amy began to reply, but a lightning flash was followed immediately by a roll of thunder.
“We need to go.”
As the rain began to fall, they hurried down the steps to her car, and she crawled inside. “Get in, Drew. I’ll drive you home.”
The rain was pounding on the roof like a jackhammer, but Drew shook his head. “You never gave me a chance, Amy,” he shouted over the noise as he backed away. “You could have done that much.” He turned and headed toward the park, ignoring the rain. Amy lost sight of him as he reached the other side of the street.
***
Drew sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, a student’s test in one hand and a red pen in the other. From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure, standing in the doorway. He looked up.
“Dr. Nelson.” Lee Watson, Jody’s wife stood with a hand on one hip, her head cocked to one side. She was dressed as if she were going to lunch at the Yacht Club.
“Lee, come in. What brings you to school this morning?”
“I’m here on a mission of mercy.”
Drew looked at her warily. “And who is it that needs mercy, Lee.”
“You do.” She strode across the office and plopped down in the chair across the desk from Drew. “You’re making a mess of your life, Drew Nelson. My non-directive psychiatrist of a husband is terrific at helping people clarify their thoughts, as he puts it, but he is worthless when what one needs is direction.”
“So, you’re going to tell me what to do?”
“I am.”
“Lee, I understand that you’re worried about me, but I can handle my own life, solve my own problems.” He turned his attention back to the test.
“My observation is that you cannot.”
Drew flashed his eyes back at her. “What do you know about my problems?”
“I know everything. Jody comes home, night after night, and he tells me the stories he hears from you. He tells me what he hears from Cathy. Anna Thomas tells me the gossip circulating in the neighborhood. I even heard that ambulance-chasing attorney, Jason Cooper, spouting off the other day.” She leaned forward, her gaze intense. “Most of what he said was probably a load of manure, but it was certainly the most interesting account of what has happened.”
“Lee, it’s all very simple. First, Amy feels inferior. She doesn’t believe that she will fit in with my life and my friends. Jody says to give her time and she will see that she’s wrong.”
“Okay.”
“Second, Amy doesn’t trust me. She believes that I am cut from the same cloth as Jason Cooper and her wayward husband. She hired a private investigator to follow me around, to dig into my finances, to hack my computer—can you believe that. He fed her a pile of manure, as you call it. The fact that she hired him proves she does not trust me. I’m thinking that she believes w
hat he told her, without even asking me about it.” He looked Lee in the eye. “So, tell me, what would you have me do?”
She did not back down from his stare. “Have you actually talked to Amy?”
“The other night…”
Lee held up her hand to stop him. “I don’t mean an argument in a rainstorm. I mean, have you actually talked?”
“She told me to leave her alone.”
“I hear that you told her to do the same.”
“So what? I’ve never before been spoken to the way she spoke to me. I’ve never before been treated the way she treated me.”
“Would you be willing to talk with her?”
Drew looked down at his desk for a long moment. He sighed. “Yes. I would talk with her.”
“That’s good.”
“But, Lee, I don’t know that it will make any difference. Even if she were to apologize—and I doubt she would—it might not matter.”
“What do you mean, Drew?”
“Once, when I was a child, my best friend and I had an argument. I don’t recall what it was about, but we didn’t talk, didn’t play together, for an entire week. One morning, I walked down to his house. He was swinging on the gate, looking sad. I told him that if he took back the mean things he said that we could be friends again.” He paused, watching Lee’s face. “He did. We were.”
“So, if Amy were to apologize…”
“As I grew older, I found that it doesn’t always work. I always forgive when someone asks me to, but that does not always make us friends again.”
***
A few days later, the temperature rose a little. “Freezing one day, warm the next,” Amy told Cathy. “Typical spring.”
The skies cleared, the early flowers began to appear. On Saturday morning, Amy sat in her kitchen, finishing breakfast, drinking a second cup of coffee.
Cathy hurried into the room, pulling her t-shirt over her head. “Rob and I are taking a boat through the marsh at Shem Creek today.”
“What happened to Matthew?”
“You know he has gone back to school,” she smiled. “But he’ll be home in a couple of weeks. Rob is just a good friend. What are you going to do today?”
Amy sighed. “I don’t know. Nothing, I suppose. I’d like to go into town, have lunch at the water park, walk along the river, but…”
“You don’t want to run into Dr. Nelson.”
“Yes. No. I mean, yes, you’re right. I don’t.”
“Why is that?” Cathy spread grape jelly across a piece of toast.
“I don’t know.” Amy stared through the window, watching a cardinal eagerly snatching seed from the feeder by the patio.
“You apologized for blaming him for what Daddy did? For the PI?”
“I tried.” Amy swirled her coffee around the cup.
“What did he say when you discussed what happened? Is that when you broke up?”
“I don’t know. I suppose.” Amy sighed. “I don’t know who broke up with whom. I don’t know if anyone…I told you about running into him on the Battery.”
“That was your discussion?” Cathy took a bite of her toast and put one hand on her hip. “That was it? You were surprised to see each other. A storm was blowing in and you talked for five minutes? Maybe? Mom!” She rolled her eyes. “You were angry about seeing a car at his house and you didn’t even ask him about it. Have you even told him what Elaine’s PI told you?”
“We haven’t discussed things. He told me to leave him alone.”
“As you told him.”
“I was angry when I said that.”
“So was he.”
Amy had started another cup of coffee and stared at as it dripped into her cup. “The real problem is that we are very different people. Like I told Drew that night, we live in different places, enjoy different things, are concerned about different problems. Every time I think of Drew, I hear Jason Cooper’s voice. ‘Ask your friend, Dr. Nelson. He’s one of us.’ He is. I’m not.”
“Mom, that’s just so wrong.”
“I think that—”
“The real problem is that you’re still in love with him. That’s why it would upset you to see him.” Cathy walked to the table and sat beside her mother. “You are miserable, Mom. Talk to Dr. Nelson.” She cocked her head to one side. “I run into him at work occasionally, you know, even though he doesn’t come in as often as he used to. He seems to be unhappy, Mom. Please talk to him. At least be friends again.”
The doorbell rang and Cathy hopped up. “Got to go.” She hugged her. “Think about it, Mom.” She stuffed the remaining toast in her mouth and gulped a drink of milk. “Have a good day, whatever you do.”
Amy sat down to drink her coffee. Looking through the window into the back yard, she saw flowers in bloom. The sky was deep blue. The forecast was for temperatures approaching eighty.
“If I want to go into town, I should go.” She filled the dishwasher as she thought it over. “I could run into him anywhere. Right or wrong, I can’t become a hermit because I’m afraid that I might see him.”
***
Amy reached the water park around eleven. The park stretched along the river and it included several fountains in which children could play. The fountains were designed to retain the water that they spewed into the air rather than allow it to drain off immediately. As a result, they formed small wading pools, and children frequently arrived in bathing suits and splashed about in the water, screaming and laughing.
Amy planned to find a bench in the shade from which she could watch the children cavorting in the fountains. She had the book that her club would be discussing next week—The Handfasting. It had been Anna’s turn to select the book and she had said that she’d enjoyed the excerpt.
The city was already swarming with people when Amy arrived. Crowds always appeared on the first warm weekend. She’d had to park several blocks away, but walking and stretching her legs felt good after what had been a long winter. She found her bench and sat.
The children were out in force. One little boy was jumping into the largest fountain, trying to make as big a splash as he possibly could. He would step back from the edge, take a couple of quick steps, jump into the air, and strike the water in sitting position. Water would fly ten feet, or more, and the adults had all taken positions at least that distance from the fountain. Amy imagined what the little boy would do in a deep pool.
A little girl toddled over to the boy and pulled on his arm. He stepped into the pool, picked her up, and lowered her quickly into the water, making a splash. Both children howled with laughter.
He looked familiar, Amy thought, but the boy was some distance away, and the sun was shining in Amy’s eyes. Not to mention he was soaking wet with his hair plastered against his head.
She turned back to her book, sipped a Coke, and savored the warm breeze blowing off the river. A perfect day.
“Amy.”
She looked up as she heard her name.
“Amy.”
Her eyes scanned the area to see who was calling to her, or if it was another Amy altogether. The little boy was standing beside the fountain with a beach towel wrapped around his body and he was jumping about, waving his hand. A woman, his mother, Amy guessed, was leaning over him with her finger to her lips.
Amy raised her hand and gave a tentative wave, and the little boy jerked away from his mother and ran toward her.
“Amy, it’s me, Bubba,” he called. Lucas dashed up to her, throwing his wet arms around her neck. “I’ve missed you.”
“Hey, Bubba. I didn’t recognize you over there.” Amy hugged him. “I’ve missed you too. How are you doing on your bicycle?”
“You should see me.” He pretended to ride his bicycle around her in a circle. “I can go really fast. Grandfather has trouble keeping up with me. Mom does too, and she runs really fast.”
“Not fast enough today.”
Amy looked up.
Jennifer was standing beside her. Her face had no
discernable expression. “Hello, Amy.” She took Lucas’s hand. “Don’t run from me again. Do you understand?” Her tone was serious, and Lucas stopped jumping.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”
“I mean it. Do I need to take you to the car for a talk?”
Lucas’s eyes were big. “No, ma’am, but I wanted to talk to Amy, and look, she’s here.” He pointed.
Jennifer stared at him. “Yes, I see that, Lucas.”
Amy glanced away from the boy. It tugged at her heart to see his little face at that moment. She spoke to Jennifer. “I’m sorry.”
Jennifer looked at Amy and pinched her lips together, turning back to Lucas. “We need to go, Lucas. Your father and Sarah are waiting.”
Amy felt the need to say something. “In town for the day?”
Jennifer turned, frowning. “Why do you—” She bit her lower lip as if to hold the words in. Then the frown faded, if only slightly. “For the weekend. We’re meeting Dad for lunch.” She looked across the park. “He’s around here somewhere.” She sighed. “Good-bye, Amy. Have a nice day.”
Lucas firmly in tow, she walked toward the fountain, where the little girl, Sarah, Lucas’s sister, was wrapped in a towel, waiting with her father. She was walking now, and Amy thought how much time had passed.
“Bye, Amy,” Lucas called over his shoulder. “Come visit sometime. You can read to me and—”
His mother shushed him again.
It broke Amy’s heart, but she waved and smiled at him anyway, not wanting him to feel bad. He’s so cute.
She watched as Lucas and Jennifer walked away, feeling a pang of regret that she might never see him again.
“Drew is here somewhere,” she said aloud, springing to her feet. Her heart was pounding, and she was not sure whether she felt afraid or excited. She scanned around the park, but she did not see him.
She sank back onto her bench and opened her book, but she couldn’t concentrate, glancing up after every page to see if Drew had appeared. Finally, she gave up. Checking her phone, she saw that it was after noon, and she went in search of lunch.
To Fall in Love Again Page 23
