Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found)

by Henrick, Ruthie

  Picking her way down the gravelly beach with a plate in her hand, she staked out a smooth area to sit. Setting her lunch on a nearby rock, she spread her towel. She’d scarcely started in on her burger when Jake made his way to her, a couple of cold drinks in his hands.

  She scooted, made room for him on her oversized beach towel. He plopped down beside her, handed her a bottle of water, took a long pull off his beer, and shot a glance toward the horseshoe pit behind him. He pointed his bottle to where Trey and Jax were now matched up against a couple of guys in their mid-twenties. “Those boys kicked our butts.”

  She laughed, followed his gaze. “They’re ruthless. You should’ve heard them playing video games last night.” She took a sip, then a bite of her hamburger.

  Jake picked up her fork, sampled the potato salad. “They’re good kids. They crack me up.” He shot another quick glance their way. “I envy you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I’ll send Trey home with you for a week. That will cure you, I promise.” She took one last bite of her hamburger and set the uneaten half on her empty plate.

  Jake laughed and snagged the uneaten burger, finishing it off.

  “What about you and Michelle? Any babies in your future?” She studied him hard. Did he realize the desperation she sensed in him lately? “You would be a great daddy, Jake.”

  He studied her empty plate. “Could be. Someday.” His gaze drifted back to the horseshoe pit before yanking it back to her with a heavy sigh and a frustrated frown. He pulled his knees up, let his forearms rest on them and stared across the water. “No, I doubt it. Things aren’t great right now, to say the least. She’s always gone.”

  “Every relationship has bumps.”

  “Even when she’s home all she does is work. I don’t remember it that way last summer, or maybe I wasn’t paying attention. But now?” He stopped and turned his head, staring at Trey, “I really don’t see her as a mom.”

  Allie couldn’t help but touch his arm. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  The smile he aimed her way was humorless. “Yeah, me too.” He took another long drink of his beer, which must be warm by now. “Last year, when she moved in, it all seemed so simple. The next logical step. I almost wish she didn’t now. It would be easier. The end, it would be… less messy.”

  When he looked directly at her with his eyes so haunted, she had an uncomfortable urge to wrap him in her arms. Instead she inched closer, sat beside him hip to hip, offering unspoken comfort as he vented.

  “I was tired of being alone. I’ll try to make it work. But the idea of children? That’s a tough one to let go.”

  Her heart just skittered. It was hard to watch a man in that much pain. And Jake deserved so much more. She turned to face the crowd. The music was still loud, the teenagers were still pitching horseshoes, someone was toasting marshmallows for s’mores at the barbeque. She glanced back at Trey. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

  “Dreams are hard to give up.” The acceptance of this was relatively new to her. “It took a long time before I stopped thinking of having another child.” She tilted her head to the side and shrugged in one fluid motion. “I always hoped Ben would come around. But once he was gone I had to face the reality of it never happening.” She let her breath out in a deep sigh, stared out at the water lapping between the boats lining the shore. “That was the part that bothered me the most about Ben’s… situation. He refused to have another baby with me, yet he had one with whatshername.” She took another deep breath, blew it out in a long whoosh.

  She turned back to Jake, a lopsided grin on her face, “I should go on one of those tabloid shows. Or maybe I should just shut up.”

  He reached over and traced a finger down her cheek, kissed the crest and caused her stomach to drop. Her eyes, confused, flew to his, which were smiling.

  “It was my pleasure. I think we both unloaded a little today.”

  Jake left work Wednesday night anxious to start Operation Rekindle. Dinner Sunday evening was disappointing, nothing more than silently sharing a restaurant table with Michelle, and Monday she left pre-dawn, and without a goodbye. But today she was due back from Denver and he wanted to beat her home. He had a great idea for a vacation and already talked to Nick about taking time off. He pulled into the driveway beside her sedan.

  “Damn.” He had the whole seduction scene planned. Along with a bottle of her favorite wine and a stack of travel brochures. And in the bag, rose petals and bath bubbles. Smoothly shifting to Plan B, he hurried through the house.

  He found her in the bedroom, still in her business suit and heels, her suitcase open on the bed. “Hey, there.” He smiled when she turned to him, wrapped his arms around her, settling his lips on hers. She pulled back, then melted into him with a sigh, kissing him back as he rested his palms across her back.

  “Welcome home. Why don’t you leave all this for later?” He waved the pamphlets at her and gave her a hopeful grin. “I’ve got a great idea I want to talk to you about. Then I’ll show you how much I missed you.”

  Her hand fluttered as her eyes darted around the room. “I’m not unpacking.”

  He paused, and his eyes bounced around the room. A large gap loomed in the open closet. Articles of clothing lay scattered on the bed. A matching suitcase stood near the door.

  His gaze flew back to her, blazing. “What the fuck’s going on, Michelle? His eyes swept her from head to toe. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.” His eyes raked over her again before he threw the cruise brochures to the floor. “Or were you even going to tell me at all?” Sparing a last searing glare at her, and then at the wreckage strewn around the room, he pivoted and stalked out.

  His stomach growled. The irony didn’t escape him that now, under these bizarre circumstances, he finally had Michelle’s undivided attention.

  Weary, he braced his palms against the patio slider. The moon cast a silvery reflection across the surface of the swimming pool. The night was still, the water was placid. A calm word.

  Nothing calm going on here.

  She’d taken a seat at the kitchen table, her knees neatly crossed beneath her navy pinstripe skirt. Right now he’d like a little of the coffee he left near his chair, but it was long since cold. They’d been beating this horse for hours. He pushed off the door and stalked to the center of the room. The front door was within view, Michelle’s cases were lined precisely beside each other.

  “We’ve been together two years.” He tamped down the frustration that oozed from his words. “How can you simply blow this off?”

  “We’ve been through this, Jake. I’m not blowing anything off. I’ve given you everything I had.”

  The slow trickle of honey was gone from her tone. The magnolia blossoms he’d originally been attracted to. He’d admired her warmth, her serenity. But now she was just cold. Calm.

  Placid.

  “I deserve someone who will give me that much back.”

  His ears pricked. Funny, but it seemed like those should be his words. In awe he let her continue playing the victim. Her sniff was dainty. He could only admire the melodrama.

  And wanted to applaud the wobbly, sad smile, the tears pooled in her eyes.

  “I need that much, Jake. It’s time for me to say goodbye.”

  A performance like that surely deserved an Oscar. He had no defense against the humorless smile that tilted his lips.

  His pulse kicked even as his heart plummeted. There must be something left to salvage. Some reason he fought for this relationship. There must be words to keep him from returning to his lonely bachelor life. “But we’re… compatible.” And the lame justification sent him stalking back to the glass door.

  Again her eyes met his openly. “You don’t love me, Jake.”

  Love? The word pierced him, knifed him in the heart. “I… can’t… .feel that.” He moved, marched the length of the room, back to the table.

  “Yes. You can.”

  He glowered as his weeping heart drop
ped to his feet. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Sit down, Jake.”

  With a scowl he landed in a chair.

  Thoughtful, she rose and wandered across the room. Stood leaning against the slider, mimicking his prior stance, staring into the darkness. “Now do me a favor. Close your eyes.”

  He opened his mouth to object, then closed it and did as she asked.

  Her clothes rustled across the room. “Now, think of yourself thirty years in the future.”

  The request was outrageous, yet the vision filtered into his mind even as he simmered.

  “You’re married, you have grown children. Maybe grandchildren who come to visit. Your hair is gray, your sex life isn’t what it used to be, but you’re happy.

  “Now, without picturing a face, think of your wife standing beside you, the woman you love.” Her voice lulled him. “She has gray hair too, her boobs sag, maybe she snores when she sleeps. But this is the woman who still makes you laugh, who keeps you on your toes. Now… in your mind… look up. Whose face do you see?”

  Oh, God! His eyes snapped open.

  Michelle clicked through the kitchen on her high heels. Passed him—still sitting at the table—and the bag holding rose petals and bath bubbles, and warm chardonnay.

  At the front door she paused, her head lowered. “Do you know you’ve never called me anything but Michelle? It’s never honey. Not baby or babe. Certainly not sweetheart. Not one single time. It’s always Michelle.”

  Still seated in his chair, with his back turned, the door ticked opened… and then closed.

  Their relationship had never had a chance of surviving. Michelle had merely hammered the final nails into the coffin. He dropped his chin to his chest. Took a series of deep breaths to steady his heart, which was no longer in his gut, but back where it belonged. This day was destined to occur. He fully accepted the blame. There was nothing he could do to change it, though. He’d given his heart a lifetime ago. It wasn’t up for grabs.

  He would be alone now. He’d resisted this, feared the desolation. But that was his reality.

  His stomach growled again.

  He got up to make a sandwich.

  “Those are truly excellent shoes!”

  Allie grinned, brushed crumbs from her lips. How typical of Reese to gush over designer footwear. Allie lifted her cardboard cup to sip fragrant chai, replaced it on the varnished table. Music drifted from overhead—something New Age that at this very moment got points for soothing away the last of the morning’s stresses. Her final counseling session with Doctor Baker—a stint that left her surprisingly introspective—was behind her. As was an emotionally wrenching visit with Ben. Reese’s call for a spur-of-the-moment round of shoe therapy just as she left the cemetery seemed like a sign.

  “Perfect for a night on the town.”

  Allie pushed away the remains of her snack, dug the shoe box from her shopping bag. “They are fantastic, aren’t they?” She grinned, caressed the heel of silver metallic peep toes with a pretty little bow at the back. “Not Manolos, but hey.” She nodded pointedly at her friend’s stilettos.

  Reese stuck out her foot, gave her ankle a twist. “Mmm. Last year’s.”

  Flipping the shoe back and forth, Allie studied her new pump before tucking it away. “I have no idea when I’ll wear them. But I haven’t bought a great pair of shoes since before Ben died.”

  “Any self-respecting girl cannot go three years without splurging. Pretty sure there’s a law.”

  Allie bent to stow the box. They were pretty great, even if they’d just gather dust in her closet. “Now you’re the shoe police.”

  Reese chuffed out a laugh, tilted her head back, finished off her decaf skinny latte with a grimace. “Isn’t it about time you joined the world again, Allie? Midgets and teenagers are all well and good, but it’s time to do something grown-up. Wear the shoes.”

  As much as her chest tightened, trapping her breaths, she’d had similar thoughts lately. Could she go through with it? She lifted her gaze. “Reese –”

  “Okay, don’t panic.” Reese threw out a hand, covered hers. “What about ladies’ night? Pretty dresses. Girly cocktails.” A finger sporting a blood-red nail waggled at her shopping bag. “Killer shoes.”

  Her spirits just lifted. She’d survived a crap morning. Trey was gone and she hadn’t fallen apart. Everything else was cake. Dinner, a couple of cosmos—yeah, appealing. Her teasing smile came naturally. “I guess you make a pretty good date.”

  Reese’s thoughtful frown was not the reaction she expected. “Or you could save them for a real date.”

  She blinked, her smile flattened out. “What? What date?”

  “I thought you and Jake might be—” With a flick of her wrist, Reese left the end of her sentence to dangle.

  Her heart stopped. Then restarted in double-time. Hopefully Reese would take her silence for anything—anything—other than this mysterious panic roiling through her.

  “Close your mouth.” Reese reached across the table, tipped up her jaw with two fingers. “You can certainly understand why I’d ask. He spends half his time at your house.”

  “He was Ben’s best friend, Reese. His business partner. I love him like a brother.”

  “Has he ever even had a serious relationship?”

  “Sure. Michelle, remember? They were together until about a year ago.”

  “Oh, her. Snobby bitch.” Reese dismissed her with a shrug. “You two belong together. You suit.” In Reese-world all was settled, but Allie’s heart skittered again. “I would have sworn you had a thing for him. Back in college.”

  Allie jittered out a shaky laugh. “Your imagination knows no bounds.” No way would she admit that to Reese. She’d gnaw on it like a hound with a soup bone. “Jake and I have been friends for almost twenty years. Just friends.”

  “Hel-lo. Are you two the only ones that don’t see it?”

  A dark-haired woman walked past their table to the front counter. Beside her was a young girl, perhaps eleven or twelve, quite clearly arguing with the woman—with her hands. Compassion came over her in a rush. Such a brave young girl.

  She turned back to Reese and blinked. “See what?”

  “Sparks? Fireworks? Rockets’ red glare? Any of this sound familiar?”

  Allie laughed at her friend. “I love you, Reese, but you’re crazy.”

  “Huh. I would have sworn.” Her voice trailed away before she brightened. “Then how about the principal from my school? His wife divorced him a couple of years ago. He’s a nice guy. Not too hard to look at either.” Reese raised her eyebrows and added a wink, a steamroller with a boring, drab life directly in its path.

  The woman and girl stepped to the pick-up counter, their backs to the room. The barista handed them their drinks—Frappuccinos for each of them. The girl politely signed what she assumed was thanks. Turning toward the exit, they again passed her table, the girl smiling shyly as she scampered by with a plastic cup in her hand.

  She seemed familiar somehow. Allie eyed the woman. Did she know her? The woman seemed vaguely familiar also, perhaps someone she knew long ago. What name did the barista call? Maggie, that was it. Didn’t ring any bells.

  Oh, jeez. Reese was still wound up.

  “It’s time to dive back into that proverbial dating pool. At least dip a toe.”

  Butterflies took up residence with the raspberry scone. Was she ready for this? Whatever happened to ladies night out? But maybe if she agreed Reese would get off her back about Jake. She carefully framed her response. “It might be nice to meet someone new.”

  “Like I said, nice guy. His name is Gary Benson. It will be fun!”

  Allie pasted on a smile, not quite as natural or eager as before. “You’re probably right.” She checked her watch, got to her feet. She still wanted to prep her classroom for a new batch of munchkins.

  “I’ll see Gary at school tomorrow, give him your number.”

  Allie pumped enthusiasm in
to her voice. Leaned in for a hug. “Okay, fine. I’ll wait for his call.”

  Allie’s phone rang as she entered the house Wednesday afternoon, her arms full of groceries. About time Trey called to check in. He’d been gone for days already. The market bags landed on the counter with a thwump as she grabbed the handset.

  “Hey there, I was getting worried.” She fished out the eggs, opened the refrigerator to shelve them.

  A hesitant voice answered. “Sorry, I only spoke with Reese today; I didn’t realize you were waiting for me to call.”

  At the abrupt lurch in her pulse, the cardboard carton bobbled, slipped. She lunged to catch it before it hit the tile.

  “Who is this?” She squeezed her eyes shut. No! No! No!

  “Gary Benson. Is this Allie?”

  “Afraid so.” She cleared her throat and thus, the squeak. “I’m sorry. I was rude. I thought you were my son. Rather, that my son was calling. He’s away at school and I expect him to call. He hasn’t called yet.” Her voice was now her enemy. She stammered, babbled on, sounded like a complete idiot.

  “So you weren’t waiting for me to call?”

  The amusement in his voice made her laugh. “Reese said she would talk to you, but I haven’t heard back from her. And right now this entire conversation is feeling slightly surreal.”

  “Let me make the whole thing a bit more real. Reese told you I’m divorced, right?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “I’m tied up this week, but would you like to do something next weekend? Lunch, a movie, a museum. Maybe a ball game. Your pick.”

  “Baseball?” It was probably the doubt in her voice that caused him to chuckle. But it was a friendly sound.

  “Just thought I’d throw that out there. You know, on the chance.”

  Okay, she could do this. The smile in her voice was almost natural. “Tell you what, Gary, I haven’t been to a ball game in years. Let’s see what kind of sports fan you are.”