Aloud, she said, “For sure I’ll make a wish. But I won’t tell you what it is, or it won’t come true.”
“You don’t need to tell me, Mommy.”
“No?”
“No. ‘Cause I know what it is and I’m wishing for the same thing.”
Chapter Six
Vicky sat in the café and stared out the window at the raging rainstorm. She was warm and snug and dry inside, and she had all day to do nothing whatsoever. She had just finished one of Pam’s amazing plates of pasta and she now planned to read and drink coffee and then send a Western Union transfer to Diana. She wanted her Mom to buy Sonia some new rain boots and a rain coat and Sonia had been begging to go on a school trip to the movies. Vicky was happy that her daughter could enjoy nice things again without Diana having to worry about finding the money and without having to impose on Ben to pay.
Her thoughts wandered to Ben for a second: she had never met him, but when Diana called him after almost five years of silence, he had taken her and Sonia in without a second of hesitation. All Vicky knew about him was that Mom had dated him for two years after Vicky’s father had died, and that he was a nice guy. Diana had broken it off when it turned more serious, though: she had been terrified of committing to another man.
Diana wasn’t saying too much about it, but Vicky knew something was bubbling away just below her surface. She wasn’t about to push, but she had her radar up, and she was pretty sure that her Mom was developing strong feelings for Ben. As for him… well, why on earth would he take in an ex-girlfriend and her grand-daughter and hide them from the girl’s father unless he already had strong feelings?
The café door opened and Vicky glanced over. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw Phil standing there, drying his boots on the mat. He spotted her and a grin broke across his battered face.
“Well, well,” he said. “You have the day off?”
“Yes.” She looked down; staring in to those dark green eyes always made her feel shy. ‘What are you doing in town today?”
“Well, I just happen to have the day off too,” he said. “I was coming in for a coffee and some of Pam’s fantastic apple pie, then I was going to do some shopping for a scarf. Maybe I’ll stay in town for an early dinner, wait for the weather to clear a bit.”
Just then, Pam came over with Vicky’s slice of chocolate cake. She had put a yellow candle in it and she had a lighter.
“Happy birthday, Vicky!” Pam set the cake down and beamed at her. Vicky was one of her favorite customers – sweet and polite and kind to her staff.
Phil stared down at the cake. “It’s your birthday today?”
“Oh. Yes.”
“But why didn’t you tell anyone? We’d have had a party for you.”
Vicky didn’t know how to explain this. The truth was that the year before, she had woken up on her birthday with a broken wrist and a split lip and to a terrified daughter who had witnessed the beating. As she held a sobbing Sonia in her arms, she promised her that they were going to get away – both of them. That was the day that she told Diana the truth when she called to wish Vicky happy birthday. That was the day they started to plan her escape. That was the day she knew she deserved more, that none of this was her fault.
Vicky didn’t want a big, loud celebration today. She wanted and needed quiet; time to reflect and rejoice. She wanted time alone to fully absorb just how far she had come, how much her life had changed and improved in the past year. She wanted to turn to the fortieth year of her life on earth with joy and confidence. It was a very private moment for her, a huge moment that was bittersweet and beautiful.
Phil looked at her face, wondering why she looked so sad. “Vicky?”
She started. “Oh. Oh, well. I’ve just never made a big deal about my birthday, really. I just thought some peace and quiet and a good book would suit me fine.”
Like so many things about Vicky, Phil was pretty damn sure that wasn’t the whole story; she was holding something back from him. The woman had secrets wrapped in her secrets.
“So, what? Should I light the candle?” Pam asked.
Vicky’s smile was radiant. “Yes, please.”
Pam flicked the lighter and they watched as the flame caught.
“OK,” Pam said. “Make a wish.”
Vicky closed her eyes, opened them, blew out the candle. Phil and Pam clapped and she smiled at them. “Thank you, Pam.”
“My pleasure.” Pam hugged Vicky. “Happy birthday, hon. Give me a sec, Phil, and I’ll bring your coffee.” She walked back to the kitchen to take a batch of cookies out of the oven.
Vicky looked up at Phil. “I know you came in here for some apple pie, but maybe you’d like to share a piece of my birthday cake?”
“I’d love to.” Phil took off his coat and hung it up. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans and his upper body was massive as he sat across from her, close enough for her to touch.
She handed him a fork and she used her coffee spoon. Together they took a bite of the cake and grinned.
“That is good,” Phil said scooping up another forkful. “Pam knows what she’s doing, huh?”
“She sure does,” Vicky said. “My spreading hips can attest to it.”
Phil’s eyes were bright as they roamed over her body, relaxed and beautiful in a figure-hugging long green skirt and a simple cream knit cardigan. “Don’t you even worry about that, Vicky. You look fantastic.”
She knew he meant it and she blushed.
They chatted easily as they ate, about Open Skies and the summer campaign and Clarity. After they finished, Phil asked Vicky to come and help him choose a scarf, and she agreed. He accompanied her to the Western Union office first and watched as she counted out the money to transfer.
“For your Mom?’ he asked.
“Yes.” She pushed the bills under the glass divider. “I help her out.”
He nodded.
She accepted her proof of transfer slip and put it in her purse. “OK, let’s go get you a scarf.”
The store was tiny and stuffed from floor to ceiling with accessories. Vicky nosed around the women’s delicate silk scarves and purses and earrings while Phil examined the heavier scarves for men. He picked three and turned to Vicky.
“What do you think?”
She wandered over, a vibrant turquoise and red and white scarf in her hands. She studied the scarves on the counter and she shook her head.
“They’re all dark – black and dark blue and more black.”
Puzzled, he glanced down at them. “Yeah.”
“Why not try a bit of color?” She examined the scarves lying in rows and plucked out a dark green one. “Here. This one… it’ll look great with your eyes.”
“You think?”
“I do. Try it.”
Phil tied the scarf around his throat and regarded himself in the mirror. “Huh. Not bad.”
Vicky reached up and tucked it in a bit, brushing gently against his chest. He inhaled the sweet scent of her shining hair and felt the urge to grasp her fingers in his and bring them to his lips. He fought to keep his arms at his side.
She looked up at him and started. The look in his eyes was hot and close and she felt his desire as surely as she felt the heat from the fireplace in her living room. Flustered, she took a step back.
Phil cast around for something to say. “Umm. You’re right – a bit of color is much better.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I think I’ll get it.” He looked down at the silk scarf in her hand. “Did you try that on?’
“Oh. No. I mean, I’m not going to buy it. I just sent Mom money and so now I’m on a bit of a budget for the rest of the month.” With regret she set it down again.
“OK, I’ll tell you what,” Phil said. “How about I get it for you? As a birthday present.”
“Phil. You don’t have to –”
“I know I don’t have to, Vicky. I’d like to.”
“You would?”
“Yes.”
Vicky couldn’t remember the last time a man had bought her a present for her birthday. Her chest tightened; she thought she might cry.
Phil saw her face change. “Hey. You OK?”
She nodded. “I am, yes. And – I’d love for you to give me a birthday present. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He picked up the scarf and gently, slowly, he wrapped it around her delicate throat. His rough fingers touched her cheek, the back of her neck. Vicky shivered and dropped her eyes.
“There.” Phil took her by the shoulders and turned her to look in the mirror. “What do you think?”
Vicky stared at herself. The colors were perfect on her: bright and fresh and energetic. Phil was standing right behind her and she looked at him in the mirror. He was so handsome and sexy, her breath just caught.
Phil smiled. “Gorgeous,” he said.
She smiled back. “Thank you.”
They looked at each other in the mirror, the heat and longing between them almost palpable.
“Vicky, would you like to go for dinner? With me?”
“Dinner?” she faltered.
“Yes.”
OK, Vicky. Say no. Say no right this instant. This is playing with fire and you know it. You cannot and will not start anything up with this man, no matter how much you want to, because if you do you’ll have to tell him everything. And that is not going to happen, not yet. So say NO.
“I’d love to go for dinner with you, Phil.”
**
Vicky didn’t think she’d ever had such a wonderful time with any man. Ever.
Phil was the perfect dinner companion. Funny and sweet and charming and attentive, he made her feel like the only woman in the room. Vicky had never felt that before in the whole of her life. She relaxed, but not completely. She didn’t want to let anything slip by accident; more than once, she found herself almost saying something about Sonia.
Phil watched Vicky across the table and saw that she was more open and receptive to him than she had ever been, but she was still holding something back. What? Why? Was it because of something she had heard about his past? He hadn’t made a secret of it at Open Skies, but he and Vicky had never fully discussed it together, either. He saw her eyes go to his tattoo more than once and he waited for her to comment on it, to ask. He’d tell her everything, if she wanted.
They lingered over dessert and coffee, and then Phil looked at his watch.
“I think we’d better get going now. The rain is supposed to start again in about an hour.”
“Oh, sure.”
They walked out in to the chilly air together. The rain may have stopped but the wind was strong. Vicky shivered and put on her hat.
“You cold?” he asked her.
“No, I’m fine.”
They stood next to the truck Vicky had borrowed for her trip in to town, and she started digging in her purse for the keys.
“Well, Phil, thank you for the lovely birthday…” She looked up at him and smiled.
He kissed her. No words, no preamble, no messing around. He just leaned down and kissed her like he meant it.
Vicky’s legs instantly weakened beneath her; she let herself sway forward and in to his arms. Her stomach twisted with desire and her breath caught. To be pressed up against his body was better than anything she had ever felt before: he was huge and hard and she had never felt so safe. But she couldn’t give over, not totally.
Phil felt her body’s response and he pulled her closer. She gave a small gasp as his tongue probed between her lips and she opened to him. He tasted her sweetness and it was heady and intoxicating. Her body was soft and open, but her hands were clenched on his chest. The tension he felt in them gave him pause.
She isn’t sure. I may have done this too soon. Dammit. He moved back a bit to look at her.
She opened her eyes, shaken at the intensity of her reaction to him.
He held her face in both of his hands and she stared up in to his calm eyes.
“Listen, Vicky. We’ve been tap-dancing around each other for going on eight months now. I am too old to mess around when I care about someone. I don’t play games. Are you interested in games?”
She shook her head.
“I think there’s something between us. I’d like very much to see where it goes. I’d like to try.” He stroked her lips with his thumb. “What do you want?”
Vicky had no idea what on earth to say. The longing inside of her was huge, but the fear was too. Mute, frightened, she just stood in his arms and shook.
His face softened when he felt her body tremble. “Vicky? You OK?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it me? My past?”
“Your past?”
“The things I did back in Detroit?” He swallowed. “Me being in a gang when I was a kid? And going to jail? My alcoholism? Does that all scare you?”
She shook her head again. “No. Phil, that’s not it...”
He leaned back a bit farther. “OK. So – what is it?”
“It’s – it’s me.”
He studied her. “What about you?”
“I –” She stopped, suddenly panicked.
“OK, babe. Deep breath.” He touched her cheek gently. “You can tell me anything, Vicky.”
And that was when Vicky felt something inside of her give. She suddenly realized that today wasn’t just about looking back on her life over the past year and celebrating the changes. Today was also about looking forward, about deciding how she wanted the rest of her life to look and be. And hiding and lying and avoiding the truth was not how she wanted to live, not anymore. Her whole marriage had been like that, and she was done with it. It was time to tell the truth. Whatever happened after that, good or bad, she’d be willing to accept it, because for the first time in a long time, she was strong enough to accept it.
Phil saw something in her face go still and calm and certain and he waited.
“I’ll tell you everything,” she said. “Can we go somewhere private?”
He nodded. “My place is five minutes away.”
“Perfect. I’ll follow you.”
**
They pulled up in front of Phil’s small house. Vicky killed the engine and looked around the open space surrounding them. The house was adorable: compact and friendly, with big windows and flower boxes. She smiled at the thought of Phil’s massive hands carefully planting and then caring for the delicate plants.
He climbed out of his truck and came to open her door for her. Together, they walked up to the front of the house and he ushered her in.
His house was warm and open, the décor and furnishings simple. He took her coat and then headed to the kitchen.
“Maybe some tea?” he asked.
“No, thank you.”
He came to her now and joined her on the sofa. He settled back and waited.
On the short drive over, Vicky had struggled with herself for a brief moment about just how much to tell Phil. In the end, she decided to tell him everything – to just lay it all out at his feet. The thought was simultaneously liberating and terrifying.
She looked in to his eyes, eyes that were so warm and kind; eyes that had seen more than their fair share of trouble and hardship.
If anyone is going to understand, it will be him.
Vicky took a deep breath and she told him the truth. She told him everything.
**
Phil listened to Vicky. The words she was saying froze him clear through.
The thought that anyone had hit this woman even once made him furious. But hearing that her husband – her own husband! – had been the one to hit her
, and hit her, and hit her made Phil inarticulate with rage. He’d been expecting to hear that her past was something like this, but the extent and duration of the violence took his breath away. Phil wanted to track this fucker Carl down and beat him until he was a skid-mark on the side of the road.
It would be worth going back to jail for, I swear it.
She sat bolt upright, not meeting his eyes, staring at her hands, her fingers twisting over and over on themselves. He wanted to take those hands, hold them still and close, but he didn’t touch her. He expected her to cry, but she was so cold and matter-of-fact, it scared him a bit. He didn’t say a word, though. Phil just sat and listened and the horror and anger washed over him like a cold wave.
She finished talking and sat, limp and exhausted. Carrying those secrets and experiences around had been a weight that she just didn’t want anymore, he knew. By telling him, she had finally set that burden down. He thought she could probably fly, if she wanted to.
Vicky raised her eyes to Phil’s for the first time and she was startled at the blaze of hot anger she saw in them. She knew that kind of anger – it was what she had always seen in Carl’s eyes just before the violence began. She blinked, shocked to see Phil exhibit it.
She looked again, and now Phil was back. That anger wasn’t directed at her, she knew.
“Vicky,” he said. “I am so sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Are you sure he doesn’t know where you and Sonia and your Mom are?”
“I’m sure. We were as careful as it was possible to be. We planned every move for weeks. And we talk every day, just to check in.”
He nodded.
She looked at him. “And what – what do you think? About me?”
“What do you mean?”
“About being stupid and weak for all those years, and for breaking the law…”
“Oh, my God, Vicky. You were not weak – you were strong. Strong enough to make it through. And what you did, to get Sonia away? I don’t care how you did it… I’m just glad you did it.” He paused. “I grew up in an abusive household, you know. I wouldn’t wish it on any child.”
Open Eyes (Open Skies) Page 9
