A Note from an Old Acquaintance

by Bill Walker

  There had to be a way to put all this right, but how? Would Ruby really do the things he’d threatened if Brian reneged? Of course he would. Brian had no doubt. Everything he’d threatened was perfectly legal and utterly devastating. Yet, as much as Brian despised the man, he also believed Ruby would make good on his end of the deal. A businessman to the end.

  His dad would have a thing or two to say about a man like Ruby.

  Dad....

  Brian went to the phone intending to call him then noticed the blinking light on his answering machine.

  Joanna.

  It had to be.

  He eased himself onto the loveseat next to the answering machine and pressed the PLAY button, steeling himself. The tape rewound, taking far longer than usual. The machine clicked to a stop then began to play. At first, there was nothing but the hiss of the tape. Then Joanna began to speak. Her voice sounded as velvety soft as it always did, but Brian could hear the anguish behind the words.

  “Brian? Are you there? If you are, please pick up.... I’m going to try you at the office, but if you get this message first, please call me back.” She paused a moment, then sighed. “I don’t know what happened tonight to make you say what you did, but I wish you would trust me enough to let me help you.

  “I meant what I said about leaving Erik. He’s been good to me, but he doesn’t understand; he doesn’t have the soul of an artist, as you do.... I love you, Brian, with all of my heart, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please know that. And please also know that there’s nothing on this earth that is so bad that you can’t tell me what it is. You’re worth more to me than anything, even my art.

  “In the short time we’ve known each other I’ve really come to believe that everyone has a soul mate, but so many people go through life never finding theirs. But I found you. You’ve touched the very core of me. You’re my soul mate, Brian, and you always will be. Please, please, please call me back and talk to me. I love you....”

  Brian went to hit the erase button. His finger hovered over it, but he couldn’t bring himself to press it. Couldn’t destroy the only tangible thing he had left from her. And even if he did, he knew that he’d never be able to erase her words from his mind or his heart.

  Soul mates.

  As clichéd and overused as that term had become in the culture at large, Brian believed in it. He also believed Joanna was right about the two of them. They were soul mates. But it didn’t change the facts, didn’t change what he’d agreed to do.

  Brian picked up the phone and dialed his parent’s number. It was late, but not too late.

  “Hello?”

  “Dad?”

  “Hey, Big Guy. How are you?”

  Brian fought back a wave of sadness, his eyes tearing up again. “I’m still in one piece, I think.”

  There was a brief silence on the line. “You okay, Brian?”

  “You just called me ‘Big Guy.’ You remember when you started calling me that?”

  The older man chuckled. “Sure do. You were about six years old and your mother and I had called you ‘Little Guy’ since you were toddling around in your diapers. You got real angry that day, stomping your little foot, saying: ‘I’m NOT a little guy. I’m a Big Guy!’ And except for a few slips of the tongue, we’ve called you Big Guy ever since.”

  The memory of his younger self, coupled with all that had happened that evening, brought his wall of self-control crashing down. “I’m not feeling so big right now, Dad.”

  “Hey, hey, now, what’s happened?”

  “I’m not sure if I can tell you, or even if I should.”

  “It’s your lady friend. Am I right?”

  “Yeah....”

  “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

  Brian sighed. “Someone very dear to me said the same thing tonight. And I betrayed her. I told her I didn’t love her...and I do...more than I can say....”

  “Take a minute and catch your breath. And then I want you to tell me everything. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Your mother’s upstairs asleep, so it’s just the two of us, man to man.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You kidding? That’s what dads are for. Someday you’ll be in my spot, God willing, and then you’ll know.”

  Brian took a deep breath and told his father everything that had happened since meeting Joanna, ending with what had occurred that night. When he finished, the older man remained silent for a moment.

  “Son, I won’t tell you what you did was right or wrong, because I know no matter what I say you’re going to beat yourself up over this for a long time, maybe the rest of your life. But that man is evil for making you do that. And because of what he’s done, I’m not going to accept his money.”

  Brian sat up straight, suddenly sober. “You have to take it, Dad! If I back out of this, he’ll ruin us all.”

  “All the more reason, I should refuse. There comes a time, son, when a man’s got to take a stand.”

  Panic flashed through Brian. He fought it, forcing his voice to remain steady. “Is that what you’re going to tell Mom when the banks foreclose and they take your business and your home? This is a way out, for the both of you. Let me at least have this. If I can’t have Joanna, at least let me help the two of you.”

  The old man was silent again, for longer this time. “You think he’ll really come through? Been let down a lot, lately.”

  “If you knew Joanna the way I do, you’d know the answer to that.”

  The old man sighed. “Truth is, that man’s going to do what he’s going to do, regardless. I’m sure the banks will be only too happy to take his money, even if I jump up and down and hold my breath ’til my face turns blue. And if he doesn’t, we’re no worse off than we were. I’m sorry, Brian,” he said, his voice choking with emotion. “Sorry, for you and your lady, and for not trusting you with the truth.”

  “That’s okay, Dad.”

  “No, it’s not, but I’m proud of you. Someday your Joanna will find out what you’ve done and she’ll love you all the more for it.”

  “You don’t know how much I need to believe that.”

  “Believe it, Son. And hold it close to your heart.”

  “Could you use some help in the store? I think I’m going to need a job.”

  “What, you suddenly get a hankering for the smell of machine oil and fertilizer?”

  Brian laughed. “I don’t know if I’d put it quite that way.”

  “Well, you’re the writer in the family.”

  “And I don’t know if I’ll ever write another word.”

  “Sure you will. I know you. You were scribbling stories and shoving them into our hands when you were ten.”

  Brian grinned. “Sorry about that.”

  “Sorry for what? Most of them were pretty darn good. And you’ve only gotten better. Your time will come.”

  “Maybe, but even if Ruby wasn’t making me leave, I need to get away from here. Everything about this town, every brick and stone, reminds me of her. And if I stay, I won’t be able to stay away from her.”

  “I know what you’re going through. Believe me. You want to come and set with us a spell, you know your mother and I will be glad to have you. And there’s a few stories I can tell you during those lazy afternoons when the store’s empty that might teach you a thing or two.”

  Brian chuckled. “My dad the sage.”

  “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I haven’t lived.”

  “I know....”

  “Not yet, you don’t. But you will. And one more thing. You may not be with her, but she’ll always be with you, in your heart. Use that, Son, use it and create the kind of art she’d be proud of. I know you can do it.”

  “I appreciate that, even if I don’t quite believe it right now. Anyway, I’ll let you know my flight info as soon as I make the reservations.”

  “What about your car?”

  “I’ll either store it or sell it, along
with the stuff in my apartment. That old jalopy’s not getting any younger.”

  “Neither are the rest of us,” his father said.

  “It’ll be good to see the both of you.”

  “The pleasure’s all ours, Big Guy. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Brian hung up the phone and smiled. “You really are a sage, Dad.”

  Despite their “agreement,” Brian kept seeing Mosley everywhere he went: when he left his apartment in the morning, watching the office from across the street, or sitting at a nearby table in the restaurant where he was having lunch or dinner. After a week of this Brian had had enough. He called Ruby, not at all surprised that the man took his call immediately.

  “Mr. Weller, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  His tone was light-hearted, smug. Brian resisted the urge to smash the phone.

  “I want you to call off your guy,” Brian said.

  “Ah, well, Mr. Mosley is simply looking after my interests. He’s funny that way.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m not laughing. You want me gone in three weeks, you’d better tell him to back off.”

  “Have you broken the news to your partner?”

  Brian’s mouth turned into a tight line. “I’m doing that today, as soon as he gets back from his shoot.”

  “Do that. We wouldn’t want all this to be last-minute.” He paused for a moment. “Oh, by the way, Joanna’s doing fine, getting right back to her routine. Just thought you might be concerned.”

  Brian’s temper turned from a simmer to a low boil. He held himself back, not wanting to give the older man one ounce of satisfaction.

  “Believe it or not, Ruby, I’m glad to hear that. She means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

  The older man was silent for a moment. “I actually do believe you, Mr. Weller.”

  “Just tell Mosley to go and find something else to do. All right?”

  “Very well, Mr. Weller, just be aware that the clock is ticking....”

  Brian spent the rest of the day negotiating a long-term storage deal with Danker & Donohue for his Celica. He didn’t want the hassle of trying to sell it just now and depending upon where he ended up settling, he might need it.

  He also called his landlord.

  The man was less than thrilled to learn that Brian was leaving with the lease period only half over, but was mollified somewhat when told that Brian would undertake the job of subletting it. It was one more task added to a list that kept getting longer and longer.

  Then there was Bob.

  He arrived back at the office at 4:00, pounding up the stairs in a frenzy of last-minute details from the shoot that day. Brian did his best to quiet the butterflies in his stomach, cornering Bob in the conference room. To his credit, his partner took the news well. Brian didn’t want to tell Bob the truth, so he told his partner that his father was ill and needed help with his business. It was a lie, but a plausible one.

  Over the next three weeks, he never heard another word from Joanna. A part of him was deeply hurt that she’d given up so easily; while another part was relieved she hadn’t shown up at the office or his apartment, something he would have done.

  As it was, he’d been a nervous wreck every time the phone rang, either at home or the office. He’d started screening his calls, just in case, hating himself, but he couldn’t take the chance. He knew his heart too well. If he’d seen or spoken with Joanna, he would have broken down, told her everything, and then God only knew what would’ve happened.

  Perhaps, as Ruby had said, she was doing fine. Conceivably he’d played the part of the caring fiancé so well that she’d already put Brian behind her. Written him off. He didn’t want to believe that, but her silence spoke volumes.

  By April fifteenth, all his preparations were completed and he sat on the front stoop waiting for his ride to the airport with only his suitcase and his guitar. Not much to show for the seven years he’d lived in Boston since starting college.

  He spotted Bob’s Honda approaching from down the block and met him at the curb. Bob waved and popped the trunk. Brian wasted no time putting in his luggage and slamming it closed. He turned, and gave 334 Beacon one last look. He’d miss this place. So much had happened there, so many words written—and two hearts broken.

  Shaking his head, he climbed into the car and Bob pulled away from the curb, taking the left at Gloucester and then another at Marlborough. Soon they were on Storrow Drive, braving the mid-afternoon crush of traffic.

  “You going to be okay?” Bob asked.

  Brian turned from the window where he’d been reading the sign advertising the adjacent apartment complex:

  IF YOU LIVED HERE YOU’D BE HOME NOW.

  “I’m fine. Looking forward to seeing my folks. Been awhile.”

  “You give them my best. And please tell your dad that I’m pulling for him. I always enjoyed his company.”

  Brian nodded, feeling like a heel. He’d hated telling that lie. But that one paled in comparison to the one he’d told Joanna.

  “He’ll appreciate that. He’s always had a tremendous respect for you.”

  Bob smiled and nodded. “Thanks for telling me that.” Bob slapped the steering wheel, shaking his head. “Damn, I almost forgot.”

  “What?” Brian said, frowning.

  “Someone called the office looking for you yesterday. Someone named Joanna.”

  Every hair on Brian’s body stood up. “What? What did she say?”

  “She wanted to know if you’d left town yet. I told her you were flying out today. She thanked me and hung up.”

  “That was all?”

  “Yeah, she definitely seemed agitated.”

  Brian sat back in the seat, a wave of emotions racing through him: joy that Ruby had lied and she’d not simply given up, and fear. Fear for his parents, for himself...and for Joanna.

  “She’s the one you met at Nick’s party, isn’t she? The curly redhead Debbie was so high on?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She seems like a sweet lady.”

  “Sweet is an inadequate word for her.”

  Bob gave his friend a look and returned his attention to the road. They were silent for the rest of the ride to Logan.

  At the Delta terminal, Bob threw the car into park, ignoring the disapproving glare of the State Trooper eyeing the flow of traffic. He fetched suitcase out of the trunk and placed it on the sidewalk. Brian held the guitar.

  “You take care of yourself, you hear?” Bob said, grasping Brian’s shoulder. “And anytime you want to come back, you let me know. The door’s always open.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that, and your understanding.”

  Bob snorted. “Come on, your family’s got to come first.”

  Brian nodded then stole a glance at his watch.

  Bob noticed. “You better get going.”

  “Right. Give Debbie my best.”

  Grabbing up the suitcase and the guitar, he headed into the terminal, joining the check-in line. It wasn’t too long, thankfully. The downside was it gave him time to think.

  She hadn’t given up. And she’d probably called at a time she knew he wouldn’t be there, trying to find out anything she could. Again, it was something he would have done were the shoe on the other foot. It meant only one thing: she was headed for the airport. But how would she know where to find him?

  Brian fought back a wave of regret. While he wanted to see her again with all of his being, he knew if he did he would never leave.

  At the ticket counter, Brian gave the woman his ticket and suitcase.

  “You’re going to have to check that guitar,” she said.

  “I called up about this the other day, this will fit in the overhead.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Listen, ma’am, this guitar is a 1961 SG/Les Paul and is older than I am. It won’t take getting banged around.”

  Maybe it was the way he’d said that, or the look in his eyes, either way
, the woman relented, handing back his ticket, along with his boarding pass.

  “Have a good flight,” she said.

  He nodded and headed toward the gates.

  Joanna gunned the Mercedes through the Callahan tunnel, for once grateful that she’d gone along with Erik’s choice in automobiles. The powerful German car easily passed the other vehicles with power to spare. The fact that she’d crossed the double line, risking a ticket, didn’t even faze her.

  Ever since getting off the phone with Brian’s partner, she’d been calling the airlines trying to find out what plane Brian was flying out on. Thankfully, there were only so many flights to Columbus, Ohio, narrowing down the task considerably. The problem was finding someone willing to reveal whether or not he was on a specific flight. The break came at six o’clock this morning. She’d found a sympathetic older woman, telling her that she’d had a fight with her fiancé and had broken off their engagement. Could she please tell her the flight number Brian was on so she could run to the airport and beg his forgiveness?

  It had worked like a charm.

  Now, she had less than half an hour until his plane left and the traffic had slowed to a crawl just past the tollbooths.

  “No, please, not this,” she said.

  Joanna tried calming herself with her breathing exercises, and when that didn’t work began jabbing the horn and shouting, joining the cacophony around her.

  For her, the last month had been a living hell, trying to hide her feelings from Erik and desperately trying to find some way of reaching Brian. She knew he was avoiding her, but in the deepest regions of her heart she knew it wasn’t because he wanted to. And that tenuous knowledge buoyed her, and made her all the more determined to learn what had happened. She’d given up trying to call him at home, and she’d tried driving by the office and his apartment several times, to no avail. Somehow she’d always missed him.

  A horn honked behind her, bringing her back to the present. The traffic had begun to move, though it took another ten minutes to get into the airport. She passed two crumpled cars that had collided, nearly blocking the entrance. It figured.