Distant Obsession

by Gold, Ciara; Davis, Michael

  “Well I’ll be. Sticks Edwards, is that you?”

  He swirled in position to an adorable pudgy faced, red headed woman roughly thirty pounds overweight. “Sorry, but have we met?”

  She chuckled in a gravelly bass voice atypical for a female then rose from her booth, pinched Reece vigorously on both cheeks, as if she were his mother, and engulfed him in a powerful hug. “I wouldn’t think it possible, but you’re even more handsome than the last time we were together twenty years ago.”

  Mama bear!

  “Well I’ll be damn. Tami Sue. It has been a long time.” His first dip in the pool of feminine charm and pleasure had always retained a unique spot in his vault of treasured memories. Even as a teenager, she’d been an armful, but the years had added to her physical presence. Still, that little girl smile and flowery sweet scent had remained.

  Tami grabbed his arm, pulled Reece across the room, and pressed him into the adjacent seat. “Where the hell has that gorgeous face and mouth-watering butt of yours been for the last two decades. I don’t see a ring. Are you divorced? Couldn’t have stayed single all this time with that body. Lord do I remember that body. Our last time together was senior prom, and to think, I let you go. Are there…”

  He held up one hand and smiled. “Geez, you’re still a verbal hot rod, Mama Bear. I could never keep up with you.”

  “Sorry. Go ahead. You can talk now.”

  He chuckled and took his turn. “Let me see. No, I’m not married, but I was, she left me six years ago.”

  “What a stupid bitch.”

  You always had a sailor’s tongue. Part of your appeal.

  “No argument from me.”

  “Mind if I ask why? Can’t be your skill in the sack. I’ll vouch for… Oh, sorry. There I go again.”

  God love ya, Tami Sue. You always made me feel good about myself. How could I have forgotten how special you are?

  “My Ex had higher aspirations at the time, plus I was overseas a lot.”

  “Overseas?”

  “Yeah. I was in the Navy, a pilot, aboard the CVN Nimitz.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow, I’m impressed. Little skinny Sticks Edwards, from right here in small town Allston; a fighter pilot. What was it, an F14 Tomcat? No, an F18 Hornet, that’s it, isn’t it?”

  He grinned and recalled her brother’s room stuffed with model aircraft and framed photographs of modern and vintage planes. “Sorry, Mama Bear. I only flew ASW missions in an S-3 Viking before they were decommissioned in 99.”

  “ASW. What’s that?”

  “Anti-Submarine Warfare. Nothing as glamorous as the fighter jocks. Still, landing on a postage stamp size deck tossing up and down in the ocean at night gets pretty hairy.”

  “Damn, Sticks. I’m impressed. Ever do any night ops in pitch black?”

  Reece straightened his back with an air of pride. “Yes…I have.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Tami propped her chipmunk cheeks on both palms. “I’m not surprised.”

  “What’d ya mean?”

  “You always were my hero.” With an expression of clear residual adornment, she patted his cheek. “True blue to the core. Not a day went by you didn’t make me feel special just holding my hand. All the other guys were assholes to me, but you, the white knight to my rescue, every time.”

  He patted her hand tenderly. “Feeling was always mutual, Tami Sue.”

  “I just don’t get it. How could any woman leave you?”

  He shrugged. “She wanted more.”

  “More than what? She had it all, what the hell was she looking for?”

  Reece paused long enough to wash down a mouth full of dough with a large swig of java. “Got washed out as a Lt. Commander. They call it getting passed over. Then when I returned to the states, she wanted the glamour of a commercial pilot’s wife, one that flew the prestigious big birds. Too much competition for those limited slots so I took a job flying regional hoppers out of the tri city area.”

  He took another large bite before exposing the real thorn in his male ego. “The fatal straw for Julie was status. Her father retired as an Admiral, and she expected the same for me. She wanted the luxury of a bigger car, a 4000 square foot home, none of which I could afford as a prop pilot.”

  Tami rocked her head back and forth. “Foolish foolish girl.”

  Reece paused and considered whether Tami Sue deserved, not just one side of the marital rip, rather the rest of the story. He tugged twice against his chin and decided of all those that touched his life, she’d earned the entire truth. “To be fair, both of us had difficulty with the way things evolved over time.”

  “I see.” Tami Sue issued an understanding visage, one that conveyed interest for more, yet an appreciation to respect another’s privacy.

  Reece canted his head and studied the remnants of his breakfast. “I know it seems trite in today’s world, but I found her success to be – unraveling at times.”

  “How so?”

  “She was a lawyer, and a damn expensive one. I helped fund Julie’s way through law school. In the beginning, she said it was a means to fill her time alone, but once she passed the bar, both her attitude and circle of friends elevated beyond me, at least that was my take.”

  He tapped one finger against the side of his coffee cup then ventured his gaze past Tami Sue to somewhere else, a booth at the far end of the donut store. “I don’t know, maybe it was a flaw in my character, an inability to see beyond the little things.”

  “Like what?” Her eyes sparkled with interest. His old friend was clearly wrapped in a chapter of Reece’s life that had remained out of bounds to all others the last six years.

  He retained his focus elsewhere, as if scanning images from a dark period he’d pushed far down into his secret closest. “Like her detachment from my side the instant we’d enter one of her office parties. Or the fact Julie spent so damn much time with her associates when I was in town.”

  Reece returned his line of sight to Tami Sue for an instant, then disappeared as quickly. “I think the late nights were the worst of all. Always suspecting, never able to determine if she was…” He closed both eyes and flashed on the final moments before their last fight, when his suspicious became too much and he cut loose a barrage of accusations, ones she refused to denounce. “Anyway, probably better for the both of us. Julie remarried a politician of her statue, and I – I’m still searching for the one that wants me for who I am.”

  “I’m sorry, Reece. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  He released a poignant smile, as if he’d just suffered from an old dagger being twisted within his heart, again. “Haven’t shared that with anyone since it happened; feels strangely comforting to hear the words, the emotions, out in the open. Especially with someone that always placed me on a pedestal, deserved or not.”

  With an air of caution she ventured a new topic. “Seen your dad since you got back?”

  Reece bit down on his lower lip and narrowed the gap between his eyelids. “No. Too much bad blood between us. Besides, I don’t think he even cares, given our last words when I took off on my own right after the prom.”

  “How about Jimmy, your brother?”

  “Nope, not him either.” He softened his expression. “Didn’t understand it back then, but now, I think the family saw me as a bad seed. Maybe it was the kid pranks, running old man Smith’s tractor off the cliff, shooting the bull in the ass with the pellet rifle; just stuff a little boy would do, yet they never let me forget.”

  The volume of the conversation shifted enough to draw attention from the next table, and he reduced his voice. “But Jimmy always played the game, the silver spooned brother, and Dad could be hard if ya crossed the imaginary boundary around his tightly controlled kingdom.”

  Reese sensed the touch of cooler flesh against the back of his hand and redirected the conversation. “What about you, Mama Bear. I see a ring. What lucky man reeled you in from your wild side?”

  “Little Joe.”

&
nbsp; Reece conveyed a genuine grin. “Well I’ll be damned. He always did have a thing for you. Even when we were dating, not a month went by that LJ wasn’t testing the romantic waters, asking if I was serious about you.”

  She returned the favorable expression. “He’s been a good man to me, Reece, and a great father. Can’t ask for more than that, can we?”

  “No, we can’t, Tami Sue. No we can’t.”

  Her head tilted to one side, and the smile she wore faded.

  “I’ve often wondered why you didn’t call or write. Figured maybe it was the weight. Lord knows I love to eat, and hell, you could always do better than me with that handsome, boyish face.”

  Reece grabbed both hands and squeezed tight. “No Tami. Of all the ladies I’ve known, none possess your inner wonder, and you’ve always been gorgeous to me. Funny, I’ve considered the same question myself. What if I’d stayed here in this tiny little town, maybe I’d have someone like you, who always saw me not as second best, but her number one papa bear.”

  “Then why?”

  “Wasn’t your fault, Tami. It’s taken me all these years to push out the demons that nip at my heels each time I think of home, and when I remember you, even with all the joy you gave me and the great times together, in the background, I always smelled that damn dairy farm, remembered the sting of my father’s…”

  Reece rubbed his lips with two fingers. “Tell ya what; maybe you, Joe and the kids could come out to the lake, have a little cookout, take the boys for a ride in my sailboat. We’d have a ball.”

  “I’d love that, Sticks, and I know Joe would. We’re going up North to Gettysburg to visit his brother for a week at the end of the month. What if I call you when we get back?”

  Reece removed a card from his wallet and placed it in her hand. “Please, Tami. Don’t forget.”

  “Promise I won’t.” She glanced up at the wall clock. “Lord, all this talking, I’m late for an appointment.” She pushed out of the booth, hovered for a moment, leaned down, and kissed the top of his wavy hair. “Good to see ya, Sticks, and thanks for all the memories.”

  With his eyes, Reece followed his first love through the window to her dented, red pickup truck. “Same to you, Mama Bear.”

  A heavy sigh escaped while he stared at the lukewarm coffee in his Styrofoam cup. How would his life be different if he’d stayed in Allston? The bitterness he harbored after all these years crept upon him at the oddest moments. Perhaps he was ready for a change.

  Lately he’d been dating all the wrong women for all the right reasons. A serious re-evaluation of his goals might jerk him from this stagnant existence. Crazy thing was, each woman he’d connected with since his divorce, he knew from the first instant they weren’t offering what he wanted.

  The eyes, you can tell everything through their eyes.

  Take Ms Blue Jeans. There was a depth edging around the emerald shaded irises, a hint of…of what?

  Reece flashed to the little girl several months back, her parents caught in traffic. While he waited in the terminal by her side, making small talk to take a worried child’s mind elsewhere, he sensed that same emotion; a blend between fear, uncertainty, and one that felt alone, as if they were lost among a world of strangers.

  Had she been experiencing the same thing as that little girl? Was she lost, without an anchor?

  How could he instantly experience such an affinity to one he didn’t know? He searched the woman out, finding her seated at the end of the bar. Somehow, he needed to find a way to meet her, to strike up a conversation that wouldn’t have her running out the door.

  It’s those damn, intoxicating eyes; I can’t get them out of my head.

  ~ * ~

  Lilah sent an unobtrusive glance at the man she’d preceded into the store. He looked vaguely familiar, but with so much on her mind, she couldn’t quite remember where their paths had previously crossed.

  Dressed in a maroon polo shirt and khaki trousers that emphasized his athletic build, he could have been a model for a fancy ad agency. His display of gentlemanly manners made him worth a second look; except when he’d plopped down next to that healthy redhead. The couple looked good together, both animated in their conversation. A twinge of jealousy caused a frown. If the two weren’t in love, they were really close friends, and she envied the closeness they seemed to share. She sighed, taking a bite of a yeasty, sweet cinnamon roll.

  Today was her second festival. The family oriented celebrations provided an excellent format for displaying her new work. At the last fair, she’d sold four paintings, which she thought an exceptional accomplishment considering the hefty price she asked.

  She stared into space and enjoyed the last bite of her bun. Normally, she skipped breakfast, but the old caboose-turned-bakery was just too quaint to ignore.

  “You need anything else, Sugar?” A very plumb waitress dressed in a traditional type uniform offered another cup of coffee.

  “How ‘bout a mug to go?”

  “Sure thing,” she said, and pulled a Styrofoam cup from under the counter.

  While the waitress prepared her java, Lilah mulled over the past year. Starting over required more than financial backing; it demanded fortitude and a commitment to a life she thought she’d left behind. Staying at her mother’s lake house cabin resurrected many memories; some good, some not. Regardless of mixed feelings, she’d been lucky to have a place tucked away from society hubs. In fact, she’d become rather fond of the small town atmosphere surrounding the lake community. If it just weren’t so damn lonely.

  “Here you are.” The coffee cup appeared along with the bill. “I’ll take care of the ticket when you’re ready.”

  Lilah pulled the cap from the top, poured in a teaspoon of sugar, stirred it with the swivel stick, recapped the steaming brew, and placed a ten on top of the receipt.

  The bar stool rotated with her weight, and she hopped off at the same time another patron edged into the same spot. The cup flew from her hand and landed on the floor. Four fingers covered her mouth as she surveyed the damage.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Lilah grabbed a napkin and started blotting the splatter of coffee marring a man’s stylish loafers.

  “No problem. No problem at all.”

  The suggestive tone of the masculine voice put Lilah on red alert. She shoved the napkin into the empty cup and looked up into his amused face. “Like I said, I’m sorry.”

  “Give me your hand, I’ll help you up.”

  She refused the assistance, lifted her gaze to his, and frowned. “Not necessary, thank you.” The same man who’d followed her inside stood before her. Again the nagging suspicion she knew him prodded her to take a closer look.

  The way he moved, the way he tilted his head just so…

  No, he couldn’t be.

  Lilah squinted and tried to picture him without clothes. Heat suffused her cheeks. Her lakeside obsession had suddenly become flesh and blood, real. Too real. She backed away, tongued-tied and confused. Never in her wildest midnight fantasies, where she toyed with all the possibilities, had Lilah imagined they’d actual meet; that the inspiration for her latest series of paintings would appear, standing boldly before her.

  What should I do?

  The polite approach suggested an introduction, a few laughs, and an apology for not getting his permission before portraying his image in every color her palette offered. Yet the guilt of her erotic ponderings, the invasion of his privacy without permission; that culpability quenched any thought of exploring possibilities with this specific man, the subject of so many pre-slumber what if games.

  A stool hit the floor on top of the remaining coffee spill as she swept past the man and made a quick exit. From now on, she’d avoid the local bakeries and find a new morning ritual, one that assured no more meetings with the handsome owner of the Jenny May.

  Three

  The newspaper slipped from nervous fingers to land on the beige carpeted floor.

  “Goodness, Lilah.”
Beth scooped up the discarded item. “You’re quite clumsy today.”

  Lilah snatched the journalistic crap from Beth’s light clasp before the woman had a chance to peruse the contents. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Beth wandered to the book cart. “I’ll shelve this batch and let you man the check-out booth. Don’t want Miss Brewster breathing fire for dropped books and bent pages.”

  A sigh of relief whooshed from dry lips. She glanced at the article again and a shiver cascaded along her spine. Senator Ben Randall’s Murder Remains a Mystery.

  After a year, the investigation had drawn to a close with no answers and no leads, other than the misguided attempt to frame her. She stared at the ring-less finger where she’d once worn a one-carat solitaire diamond, a symbol that held little meaning now.

  Beth looked up from the cart and nodded toward the paper Lilah still held. “Sad isn’t it. I say the wife did it, probably just to get his money. I understand he was rich. If you ask me, the fact she went into hiding says it all.”

  The needless attempt to hide the story went unnoticed by Beth. Instead the coworker took delight in rehashing events better left buried.

  “They found no evidence linking her to the murder.”

  “So? She’s obviously pretty gifted at hiding her tracks.” Beth stared at the image of Lilah Randall plastered on the surface. “Say. Anyone ever tell you how much you look like that woman. Dye the hair blonde, and you’d be a dead ringer.”

  “You think so?” Better to agree than make excuses. ”I think my nose is bigger.”

  “Well, maybe not. Your eyes are prettier. You two even have the same first name. Anyway, I say she ran off to Europe. That sister of hers is missing, too, which probably means she’s involved in the murder as well.”

  “I wish everyone would just leave those poor women alone. I’m sure they’ve suffered enough.” The paper rustled between anxious fingers.

  “You’re too forgiving. Hey, I bet they did it for the insurance money. That’s the way most murder plots pan out.” Beth lifted a worn copy of Huckleberry Finn. “I’m so glad we live in a small community where there’s rarely any crime, unless of course you count Henry Wellman’s theft of farmer Hatley’s watermelons.”