Seems Like Old Times

by Joanne Pence

  "Oh?"

  "Does he see much of his mother?"

  "His mother?" Tony put down his fork, his eyes narrowed. "Why?"

  "Well...he seems to think"--she folded her hands--"he told me he thinks his mother doesn't love him because she never sees him."

  Dark brown eyes widened, then his mouth tightened until grooves of anger etched on either side of his lips. He turned his head toward the wall. "God, that woman makes me sick!"

  Lee blanched. "I thought you should know in case there's anything you could do about it."

  "Do?" His gaze bored into her. "Hell, there's plenty I could do. But ask me if I want to?"

  She shook her head. "No, that’s between you, your ex, and Ben."

  His eyes softened. "I’m sorry. It’s just that for years his mother didn't want to have anything to do with him, and especially not with me. She saw him once or twice a year, and that was it. I should have talked to him about it, instead of just hoping he wouldn't notice, or whatever in the hell I was thinking. Lately, though, she's asking to see him a lot more. I'll be damned if I'll let her." He put his elbows on the table and ran his fingers over his eyes and temples. "Poor kid!"

  "I don't understand," she said. "How could she not have wanted to be with such a wonderful little boy?"

  Tony clasped his hands on the table. "Maybe because he's my kid." He stared at his hands. "You'd have to understand the whole thing. It's not simple."

  She placed her hand over his and warmth surged through her. It was the first time she'd touched him in years. She wasn't a person who touched easily, yet something in Tony's anguish reached out to her and made her want to offer comfort. She struggled to ignore the familiarity and longing that coursed through her. "Do I look like I'm in a hurry to rush out of here?" she asked. "How many times have I told you my long stories and you listened to every silly word? There's nothing silly where Ben's concerned."

  He gazed at her, then at her hand. She pulled it away. He picked up a book of matches and tapped it against the tabletop as he spoke, first on one side then on the other. "I met her in Phoenix when I was on a Triple A team. She thought a ballplayer was her ticket to high living and excitement. We got married, but it was a mistake from day one. By the time she realized minor leaguers got low pay and spent hours either traveling to games or practicing for them, with only a slight chance of ever getting into the majors, she was pregnant. That extended the marriage longer than it ever would have lasted otherwise."

  Lee felt as if all the blood had drained from her. "I see," she whispered.

  "She left me when Ben was a year old. It wasn't much of a marriage, and taking care of a baby wasn't her idea of a great life." He smiled wryly. "I don't blame her, Lisa. It was a tough life for anyone, and we were so young. She wanted glamour and fame. I was totally focussed on the game, on winning. Marriage was the last thing on my mind, and I can’t say I tried to make it work. I didn’t much care. All I thought about was baseball. She was a lonely young wife. I'd say marriage to me must have been some kind of Hell."

  Lee studied his face, solemn with silent agony for his son. The matchbook lightly rapped against the tabletop. Marriages had fallen apart for a whole lot less, she thought, and it sounded like this one wasn’t strong enough to handle the kind of stress, hardship and traveling that made up minor league life. She had seen it in her own profession. "Is she still in Phoenix?"

  "No. She went to L.A. Married a rich doctor." He lifted a steady gaze to her. "She contacted me a few months ago. Said they can't have any kids." His name came over the loudspeaker. "Our pizza’s ready. I’ll get Ben and pick it up."

  As Lee watched Tony's back disappear into the crowd, pressure tightened around her heart. Ten years ago, when she'd briefly returned to Miwok, she had learned of his marriage. She'd been offered a job in New York and had to decide what to do: to take the job and throw herself completely into her career, or try some middle course. She hadn't seen Tony since the summer after leaving high school, and more than anything she needed to see him. There was so much she needed to resolve, to explain, and to have explained by him in turn. She drove out to the Circle Z. Vic was traveling on a horse show circuit, and one of the ranch hands told her that Vic's son had moved away a few years earlier, was playing baseball with some minor league team, and had just gotten married. She didn't even know the ranch hand's name, yet his words changed the course of her life.

  It was funny, but over the years she’d lived at Miriam’s, attended college, and worked on local TV in Los Angeles, she’d always imagined Miwok and the people in it as remaining static. Rationally, she knew they’d be living their lives just as she was hers. But deep down, she hadn’t wanted to believe it.

  Over her years of growing up, maturing, and observing people, she slowly had begun to understand herself, and her mother, and the way she was raised. As she’d come to accept her upbringing, she wanted to see Tony again--if nothing else to bring to some closure to their relationship.

  She still remembered standing there gaping as that stranger told her Tony was married. He must have thought she was a drooling idiot. She should have known Tony wouldn’t spend his life pining for her. She should have expected he’d marry. Still, it hurt like hell to think of him wed to someone else. Subconsciously, she'd always expected Tony would wait for her, just as she, at some level, had waited for him. She had left Miwok because of him and Judith, and because she was young and foolish and burning with ambition. Her life had spun out of control, taking turns she'd never imagined. And because of that, she had lost him.

  She rubbed her temples, tried to rub away the sudden ache that threatened to cleave her head in two.

  Finding out about Tony’s marriage, and then trying to patch things up with Judith only to find her mother unwilling to meet her halfway--not even a quarter-way—she had left Miwok for the last time and accepted the job in New York. The six a.m. to seven a.m. time slot was all hers.

  She'd thrown herself into her work with a fire she hadn't known she possessed.

  Work wasn't all she threw herself into during those early years, she remembered. She became a woman with a mission: to find a husband. She must have looked like a crazy woman on the prowl, discarding any man interested in her on the flimsiest excuse while at the same time scaring others off in equal or greater numbers by the manic way she'd question them about their outlook on love, life and children. She, who had always been so choosy and ascetic about relationships, suddenly freely offered herself and her bed in her search. But no one eased her hurt. No one took away the aching loneliness deep within her.

  Fortunately, she soon realized the futility and waste of those relationships, and soon, Lee Reynolds began to grow her defenses, to erect that cool, pristine control and iron will she'd become known for.

  How strange to hear what Tony's marriage was really like after the blissfully romantic way she'd imagined it being. So much of it sounded ugly, but at least it had given him Ben.

  She took a sip of her beer and soon, Tony and Ben were back carrying a pizza supreme. Tony lifted a slice overflowing with mozzarella onto her plate, then served Ben and himself. As they bit into the pizza, a collective, "Mmm" emerged from all three.

  Tony and Ben laughed. Lee looked from one to the other. It hit her like a bolt. She loved being here with them. The feeling scared the hell out of her.

  They all concentrated on pizza and small talk for a while. Ben finished, and ran off to play video games with his friends. Soon Lee, too, pushed aside her plate. Tony ate the last two pieces.

  Lee had met him this evening for a reason. Now that the food was gone while they dawdled over beer, she needed to say good-bye, and then leave. Tomorrow she had an early flight back to New York. As she prepared herself to take her leave, Tony spoke.

  "I’ve been debating about something all evening," he said.

  That was a curious thing to say. "Oh? What is it?"

  "There's a dance at the high school Friday night."

  "Yes. I saw a fl
ier about it."

  He smiled. "It's to raise money for athletics in schools. I’m on the committee to publicize it."

  She brushed aside some pizza crumbs. "It's a good cause."

  His words came out in a rush. "Would you like to go with me?"

  Her hand stilled and her eyes shot up to meet his. The way she felt, he might have suggested slashing her wrists. She was tempted--very tempted. You’ve gone crazy, Reynolds. She knew she should refuse his offer. She should tell him she had a plane to catch. Instead, she said, "Well, it is a good cause."

  "Most definitely."

  Her spine stiffened. "Then I accept."

  His eyes sparkled as a slow grin spread over his face. "That’s great. I was afraid you’d laugh!"

  Her heart leaped. "Never."

  He placed his hand on hers. "I’ll pick you up at eight."

  "Why don’t I pick you up instead?" she said. "I’d love to see the Circle Z again, one last time."

  He sucked in his breath. "You'd really like to see it, Lisa?"

  Her boldness vanished for just a moment, then her voice turned clipped, businesslike. "Of course."

  "No need to wait until Friday. Besides, you don’t want to wear nice clothes to tramp around a ranch. Come now. It’s not late."

  "Well, I don’t--"

  "No problem, Lisa. I’ll get Ben. Follow in your car. We’ll be there in ten minutes."

  Chapter 13

  They drove northwest from the center of town, into the valley that edged the coast range hills separating Miwok from the Pacific Ocean. A country lane brought them to the Circle Z Ranch, Tony turned onto a gravel road and Lee saw again, after so many years, the modest, two story, clapboard house that belonged to the owner of the ranch. Only now, that owner was Tony.

  Years ago, Lee had gone inside the barn and corrals, and even in the cottage where Tony and his father lived, but she had never set foot in the main house. Now, she parked beside Tony on the wide, circular driveway. She joined him as he gave last minute instructions to Ben.

  "'Night, Lisa," Ben said as he walked toward the house.

  "Good night." She turned questioningly to Tony.

  "Let's go down to the horses," he said. "Wait until you see Double Play. He's the Arabian I've built my line around."

  Solar footlights lined the gravel path to the stables. Other than that, the night was dark, and early wisps of fog from the Pacific misted the oaks with haze. Tony took her arm so she wouldn’t stumble in the darkness. His nearness, the feel of his hand, and the faint, lingering scent of beer, pizza, sunshine and baseball, captured her senses.

  She studied the horses with awe and excitement. These sleek, beautiful animals, this gracious land, were Tony and Ben's future. She was struck by the rightness and the thrill of it.

  Double Play was magnificent, as were Easy Out and Bunt Single, his prize mares. Evening Star, a two year old filly and Easy Out's first foal, was Ben's horse.

  "Why wasn't Evening Star named for baseball?" she asked.

  "Ben's a poet. Not like his old man at all."

  They laughed, and the laughter eased their awareness of the quiet of the stables, of being alone together. They walked through the occupied stalls, and Lee saw that four of the horses were sired by Double Play.

  "They're beautiful," she said, stroking the velvety nose of one of the mares. "I can see why you love it out here. I always suspected, even when we were kids, that you didn't dislike the Circle Z half as much as you said you did."

  "Well...what do kids know?"

  He led her back up the hillside to the house. He gripped her arm once more, and with each step, the mysterious effect he had over her increased.

  They stepped onto the large, wooden front porch. The front door had an etched glass window with a rose design. Tony stepped aside as Lee entered the house. The interior had a turn of the century charm. The door opened to a hallway with oak stained chair rail molding and cream colored wallpaper with delicate flowers. She lightly ran her fingers over the paper.

  Tony scarcely took his eyes off her, studying her reaction as he showed her to a cozy living room off the hallway. A white, rose and green striped sofa faced a white stone fireplace, overstuffed emerald green armchairs were on each side of the sofa, and a beautiful antique secretary stood against a far wall. He discovered he'd dreamed so often of having her here in this very room, that now that she was really here, it felt like deja vu. In his dream, he'd proudly shown her all he'd acquired, all he'd accomplished without her. She'd begged his forgiveness, but he’d turned his back to her and pointed to the door.

  In the real world, he’d discovered, there was no way he’d turn her out.

  "This is lovely, Tony." Lee looked from the hallway to the beckoning warmth of the room. "It isn't what I expected at all."

  "No?" He walked into the room and stood at one end of the sofa, watching her. "What did you expect?"

  "Oh, leather, chrome, a small trampoline in the living room."

  He laughed aloud. "What every good jock should have."

  "Exactly." She paused at the cherry wood desk and found herself running her hand over its satin like surface and hand carved molding.

  He stepped beside her and placed his fingers on the top rail of the desk chair. His hand was sizes larger than hers, his skin shades darker. She looked from his hand to hers and the old familiarity struck.

  "This is the kind of home I’d always dreamed of when I was growing up," he said. "Old fashioned, warm and big enough for Ben and me to fit in at the same time--not at all like a couple of the places Vic and I lived in. Sometimes, when Ben's not here, though," he paused a moment, then rushed on, "I feel like I rattle around in it. When he's home, it's perfect."

  She thought she'd known him so well, but she hadn't known that about him. The cottage he and his father had shared was small and stark, the antithesis of this.

  She walked over to a group of old pictures hanging above a library table.

  "Those are old pictures of relatives back in Mexico," Tony explained, welcoming the chance to pull his thoughts away from things so personal. "My grandparents and great aunts and uncles. I never knew any of them, but I like the photos, and my dad’s able to tell Ben stories about everyone of those people."

  The sepia pictures were set in intricately carved frames. The people in them, young and old, were lined up, either standing or sitting, and staring straight at the camera. She could see the Santos eyes in every one of them. "I like these," she said.

  He smiled as he walked to her side, put his arm to her waist and led her to the hall. "Just so you won't think everything's old in this house, step this way."

  Down the long hallway, he stopped to show her the family room where an assortment of Mattel cars and G.I. Joes and video games were scattered about. Sliding glass doors led to the back yard. Past the family room was the kitchen, which drew a long 'ah' of approval from Lee. It was white except for one brick wall that held a huge fireplace with iron and brass pots and utensils hanging from hooks that had been worked into the mortar. Between the large sink and double ovens stood a tiled island with a butcher-block section and a massive cook top. The countertops and appliances gleamed from obvious loving care. A pine table and chairs were against floor to ceiling windows on the far side of the room.

  "The kitchen was old--old appliances and everything. So I gutted it and had this built. I always wanted to have a big kitchen. You should see the mess when I cook."

  The pride in his voice warmed her. "This is a great kitchen, Tony. You’ve made a wonderful home. I can see why you love it here." Their eyes caught and held and the spark that always existed between them suddenly flared, bright and hot, consuming the very oxygen around them.

  He took a step toward her, then another. His hands cupped her elbows. Her pulse race.

  "I could show you the upstairs. My room."

  He meant more; she saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, felt it in the center of her being.

  She was too
intensely aware of him, even more so now, with a woman's desire and knowledge, than she'd been as an innocent teenager. She wanted to climb those stairs, but a last remaining fragment of sanity warned her against it. Her heart was too vulnerable here, and there was too much in both their lives to risk. She had never been a "one-night stand" person. She couldn’t become one. She owed Bruce more loyalty, and Tony more honesty.

  She broke his gaze, and turned away. "The downstairs is lovely, Tony."

  Tense silence spread between them. She couldn’t hold back from looking at him. He waited until their eyes joined, then he nodded. He walked over to the counter, and in his ever-restless way, reached for the salt and peppershakers. He shifted them one way and then another. That was Tony--always moving, with more activity and energy than any four other men she knew.

  "That guy you're with in New York," he said, moving the shakers, first the salt in front, then the pepper. "I guess it's pretty serious between you?"

  She knew she should say yes. That would be the easiest way to avoid entanglements with Tony, but as she stood there, she was struck with doubts--doubts that had been struggling to surface from her first day in Miwok. Doubts that, if truth be told, were there even before she left New York. "I thought it was. But I don't want to complicate things. I could never treat you casually. I still can't."

  He faced her again, his hands still. "I could never treat you casually either. I guess that was the problem." He pushed the shakers back against the wall, then folded his arms. "Well...at least that's settled." His words were serious, but as their eyes met, his face slowly broke into a grin.

  Despite herself, she smiled too, relieving the sexual tension that had filled the room. Maybe she couldn't stop her heart from beating faster or her blood from heating when he was nearby, but she was an adult, not a young girl with her first crush. Whatever happened in the past, and whatever the future might bring, Tony would always be her friend. The unhappiness of their parting, all that happened afterward, the different directions they had taken in their lives, all the years and silence in between had brought them here, to this point--two older, wiser people.