Seems Like Old Times

by Joanne Pence

  "Don't you believe that for one second!"

  Despair clouded his eyes. "No, I don't. I’ll fight her right to the Supreme Court. Even if she wins, Ben will be thirty before all the levels of appeals are gone through."

  "That's right!" She wanted so much to hold him and comfort him.

  "Damn right."

  He looked so miserable she couldn’t stop herself from touching his arm--just his arm. "It's so wrong, Tony. So awful that you have to go through this!"

  He slid his thumbs in his belt loops and turned away from her. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

  "Sorry?" She stepped closer. "For what?"

  "I didn't want to tell you about this!" He looked at her with a wry, rueful grin, and something in his dark, bright eyes lit a warmth in her that reminded her of the kisses he had given her, of the caresses they had shared. "I wanted you to think of Miwok as a place where only good things happen. I wanted everything--you, me, how it used to be between us--untouched by any ugliness. I couldn't do it. Everything's different now...even us. Last night was special. I'm sorry the real world intruded today."

  She could have cried. "You always tried to protect me, Tony, but I'm a big girl. And I'm glad you told me. If there's anything I can do..."

  "I don't think so."

  "You're probably right. But if you need anything, if you need me, or...or anything, call me. Promise?"

  He took one of her hands. "You always did want to set the world right, you know."

  "And now I report all that's wrong with it." She shook her head at the irony of it all. "Do you have a good attorney?" she asked, ever practical.

  "Yes." His voice was monotone. "We've been talking to Catherine and her husband's lawyer all along, but things broke down. I expected this might be the outcome. Even expecting it, though, to actually see it..."

  "Maybe you can get an extension?"

  "Right. He might be nine and a half instead of just nine before she takes him from me!" He let go of her and walked toward the car, out of her reach, leaving her hand, her arms, feeling empty. He swung the car door open. "We'd better get going. This doesn't have to concern you."

  She got into the passenger side. When he was in the driver’s seat, beside her, she said, "I can make some phone calls to people I know...hear if they have any advice on cases like this."

  He started the ignition. "Sure," he replied, but she thought he barely heard her.

  The ride to her house seemed too short. They were there before they had a chance to talk. Lee opened the door and got out at the same time as Tony. He walked with her to the front door, then tucked his fingers in the back pockets of his jeans, waiting for her good bye.

  Lee stared at him. How could she leave him when they still had so much to say, when he had just been hit with the news about a custody battle?

  She turned and opened the front door, stepping into the living room with a silent invitation for Tony to follow. He did.

  She put her purse on a chair, her head bowed.

  "I know you'll be finishing up here," he said, "spending your last evening with your aunt, then going back to New York in the morning. I guess this is it, then."

  "I...I don't know what to say."

  "Will you need a ride to the airport?"

  She shook her head, then finally turned and looked at him. Her eyes filled with tears.

  "If you've got time, now and then"--his voice was hollow--"even if you don’t want me to call you, I’d like to hear from you. Tell me how you're doing, if you'd like. I imagine you'll be real busy, but we don't have to wait seventeen years again."

  Her heart was breaking. "I used to ask about you, years ago, whenever I talked to someone from home. Once when I came home to visit, I went out to the Circle Z. A man was there, a stranger. He told me you were married."

  "I never knew." His voice was a whisper. "I always thought as soon as you left, you'd forgotten."

  "Not forgotten. I just stopped letting myself remember. It hurt too much."

  He stepped closer, letting her words seep through him. "God, Lisa "

  "No." She placed her fingertips against his lips, then cradled his head to hers. His arms circled her. "I'm glad for my memories. Old and new. You're a fine man, Tony the best." Her words caught in her throat.

  A part of her wanted, more than anything, to stay with him. If he asked, what would she do? If he told her he needed her, loved her for who she was today and not for the girl she used to be, what would she do?

  Her arms tightened on his neck, but as she waited, she knew he would never ask such a thing of her again. It was too late for them. They'd both changed too much and their lives had moved too far apart from each other. As much as she knew a part of her loved him and would always love him, she had worked too long and too hard to get where she was. Lee Reynolds couldn't exist in Miwok, as she well learned. The young, ambitious girl Tony knew had matured, a woman now, with a career she'd worked hard for, and its ensuing responsibilities. As much as her mother had pushed her to succeed, so, too, had she pushed herself. Lee was all the potential in Lisa, fulfilling its promise.

  So if Lee couldn't live in Miwok, could Tony exist in New York? A country estate, not terribly far from the city, somewhere that she could see him on weekends or, at least, those weekends when she didn't have to attend special functions or dinners, or cover a story out of town, or do a news special report because of a crisis somewhere in the world.

  Could she ask that of Tony?

  She knew the answer.

  He lifted his head and looked at her, studying her features as if trying to commit them to memory. "I should get going."

  "I wish I could be two places at once," she murmured.

  He smiled, understanding exactly what she meant. "You always were an over achiever."

  "Oh, bull!" She fought off tears.

  "I'm going to miss you, Lisa Marie Reynolds."

  "And I'll miss you too, Tony Santos."

  He looked at her mouth and bent closer, then hesitated. She looked at him, and leaned toward him, then stopped. She could feel his breath against her face, could feel his muscles grow taut. "Tony," she whispered.

  Then he kissed her, his fingers twisting in her hair, holding her head near as he captured her mouth, then delved and explored it with his tongue in a way that shot rapture through her, taking her breath away. The force of the wild yearning she felt for him, the aching surge throughout her body for this man rocked her.

  He took his mouth from hers and pulled her to him in a crushing hug as they realized this was good bye.

  He stepped back and lay his hand along the side of her face. "Knock 'em dead out there in the big world, Lisa."

  "I’ll try, Tony," she whispered. "You, too."

  He let go of her and walked to the door, glancing at her one last time as he pulled it open, then he turned and was gone.

  Chapter 17

  Lee stood at the window. Nearly a half-hour passed before she went in search of Miriam and found her seated on the deck in the back yard looking out at the oaks that covered the hillside. A bleakness lingered in Miriam's eyes that Lee hadn't seen before. "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "Oh, nothing. Was that Tony I heard?"

  "Yes."

  "Has he gone?"

  "We said good bye," she whispered.

  Miriam dropped her gaze. "I see. You didn't tell him?"

  Lee knew what Miriam referred to. "No. Never."

  "Don’t you think he's owed an explanation?"

  "Why open up old wounds, Miriam, or create new ones? What we had together is gone now. Life goes on."

  Miriam nodded and sat in silence a long moment. "I guess some things aren't meant to be."

  No matter how much it hurts, Lee thought. She tried to push away the feeling. "You look troubled, Miriam."

  Miriam studied a yellow rose a long while before answering. "I'm just feeling a bit sentimental. That's all."

  "You don't want to leave."

  Miriam shot her a glance as i
f ready to protest, and then realized the futility of lying. "I'm telling myself it's foolish to want to stay in Miwok. I've made a home elsewhere. A lovely home. But I enjoyed it here so much these past two weeks. I was so comfortable, and my dear old friends..." A soft sigh escaped from her aunt.

  "And Gene."

  Miriam harumphed. "Don’t be silly. What do I want with a broken-down, has-been rodeo star?"

  "A star? I didn’t know he’d been a star."

  "That’s because the man’s modest." Her voice turned wistful. "You should see the trophies he’s got, and a big championship silver belt, and--"

  Lee was laughing.

  "What’s so funny, Ms. Reynolds?"

  "You are, Mrs. Dailey. You’ll miss Gene Cantelli whether you admit it or not."

  She nodded. "I’m afraid you’re right."

  "Reconnaissance pilots, rodeo stars--you like wild men, Miriam."

  "That’s me," she said with a sad sigh. "One hot momma."

  Lee covered her hand. "If you want to move back here, do it. Why not?"

  A little brightness and a little hope sparkled in Miriam's eyes, but then they dulled again. She pulled her hand away. "Moving so far is a big step for a woman my age. What if I move and decide I don’t like it here? What if I can't sell my house in San Diego? Or, what if I can't find a house here that I like or can afford? Or, what if Gene Cantelli decides he’s making a mistake spending time with a woman like me when he’s handsome enough that women half his age throw themselves at him?" She shook her head. "I'm past the age to take risks, Lisa. In anything."

  Lee watched Miriam look up again at the tall, spreading oak before her, its limbs wide, like arms in welcome. "Stay here. In this house." The words were out of her mouth before she even thought about them.

  Miriam glanced at her. "What?"

  Lee stared back as the rightness of the idea warmed her, banishing any confusion, and leaving a certain peace. "It's perfect, Miriam." Lee slid forward in her chair. "I don't need to sell the house right away. Actually, I don’t need to sell it at all. The only reason I was going to was to get it off my hands. But if you lived here, I wouldn't have to worry about it."

  "I don't know."

  "Think about it. You could live in Miwok long enough to decide if you really do like it here enough to move--Gene Cantelli or not. If you do, you could put your home up for sale. Even once it sells, this will give you a place to stay until you find a house you like well enough to buy."

  "You make it sound too easy."

  Lee took Miriam's hand. "Nothing's easy. But it's possible--if you'd like to try it."

  "I'd have to go back to pack some personal things--and get more clothes. I’ll pay you rent."

  "You will not! How many ways can I say I don’t need more money? If you take care of the utilities, that’ll be plenty--if that’s all right."

  Miriam stared at her a moment, not quite believing, then pleasure lit up her whole face. Even if Lee hadn't been entirely sure, the joy on her aunt's face made it worthwhile. "Of course it's all right. It'd be lovely, Lisa. What a wonderful, generous idea."

  "I'm glad I can help. It's so little after all you've done for me."

  o0o

  The next morning, Lee left early for the drive to the airport. Soon after, Miriam would lock up the house and head for San Diego.

  As Lee pulled out of the driveway, she concentrated on the road in front of her, not wanting to look at the familiar sights around her again, the homes of people she had known, the school, the shops. She felt as if there was a vacuum in her life, and that vacuum now formed a hole in the pit of her stomach where she felt aching and empty. She felt a surprising amount of envy of Miriam to be coming back here.

  It'll be better when I'm in New York, she told herself. That's my life now. I'll feel better once I'm working again. I feel content there, content at having achieved many of the goals I set for myself, knowing I’m on the right path to achieve even more of them.

  Miwok confused her. It made her question her life in New York, and she didn't want to question it. Questions were painful, they left her restless, even longing--but for what? That was the problem--restless and longing for what?

  She lifted her gaze then, and took in every detail of the town until she turned onto the highway and it disappeared from view.

  Chapter 18

  Manhattan put on its best face as Lee rode the taxi from Kennedy to her apartment. She was anxious to get on with her life as she'd known it. The life she'd struggle to succeed at, and was comfortable with. A nagging uncertainty about that life when she was in Miwok, when she was with Tony, had to be set aside. After all, she was proud of her achievements, and she loved New York.

  She looked out the window as the cab crawled along Fifth Avenue. It would inch forward a while, make a sudden, terrifying spurt around cars turning or double-parked, then inch forward again. People filled the streets, eyes ahead, walking in a straight line in singled-minded briskness the way people in truly big cities learn to do. Neon lights flashed, restaurant and exhaust smells blended, the ever-present sound of a jack-hammer slammed somewhere in the distance, along with honking horns, and rumbling trucks. But throughout it all was the familiar pulse of the city, the almost primitive beat that soared through her veins with vitality and life.

  It was familiar. Home. And good to be back.

  She walked into her sleek, stylized apartment. Everything was exactly as she'd left it: perfect. A flash of Tony's warm home hit her--toys scattered over the family room, old family photos on the walls of the living room, overstuffed chairs and comfort. She couldn't let herself think of that now.

  She quickly unpacked, showered, and changed. After going through her mail and messages on her answering machines both at home and work, plugging in her laptop, taking one look at the overflowing e-mail system, and shutting it off again, she left for Bruce's place. She'd phoned him from the airport and told him she'd see him this evening.

  The evening air was sultry, but not uncomfortable. A smoky gray sky, electric with life, brought the kind of evening that, back in Miwok, would have neighbors standing outdoors, talking and joking with each other. But a friendly hello was as far as Lee's conversation went with the strangers who lived nearby.

  Especially on a night like this, the streets were filled with people. So many of them, so busily going somewhere. Lee glanced at the happy couples among them.

  o0o

  With a polite smile and friendly nod, the doorman to Bruce's condo apartments waved her through. As she fished around in her handbag for Bruce's keys she stepped into the elevator. Her fingers tightened on the keys as she watched the floor lights go by in the elevator, bringing her closer and closer to fifteen. With a 'bong' the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

  Her steps slowed as she walked across the small alcove to the front door. Drawing in her breath, she put the key in the lock, turned and pushed the door open. "Bruce? Bruce, it’s me."

  The lights were on, but the apartment was silent, Bruce must be working. He didn't like any sound, not even music when he worked. She dropped her jacket and purse on a black teak bench beside a brightly painted three foot tall ceramic Thai dancer on a chartreuse pedestal table, then walked across the white marble foyer to the living room.

  It was empty. Bruce usually sat in the wine red, high backed easy chair, his feet on the antique jacquard footstool, while she sat more stiffly on the Victorian tufted silk chesterfield with the high mahogany crest rail that stabbed into her back whenever she tried to relax against it. Victorian furniture, Bruce said, best showed off his collection of Southeast Asian and Hindu artifacts reminiscent of the Orientalia of the British Raj. Guests always complimented Bruce on his fine pieces. The Panchantantra collection frowned at Lee now, as if aware that her thoughts about the room were less than favorable.

  She went down the hall to the den. The door was shut. She knocked. "Bruce?" There was no sound. "Are you in there? It's me, Lis...I mean, Lee."

  She he
ard the rustling of papers, then the door swung open. Bruce was just under six feet tall and rail thin. He had blond, blue-eyed good looks that reminded her of a young Peter O’Toole.

  "Lee, I didn't expect you so soon. I'm sorry, darling." He placed his hands on her arms and gave her a quick kiss then held her from him. "Let me look at how beautiful you are."

  In her high heels, they stood nearly nose to nose. She could see the red rimmed fatigue of his blue eyes even with his glasses on. His fine blond hair was usually immaculate, but tonight he'd been running his fingers through it as he worked, making it spiked and awry.

  "You look tired, Bruce."

  "I need you here to take care of me, darling. Haven't I told you that more than once?"

  "You have."

  "Well, thank God you're back." His arms went around her waist and he pulled her close into a long, tongue involved kiss. She tried hard to feel some response, some quickening of her pulse, tightness in her stomach, but she felt flat. Even the joy of seeing the man who professed to want to marry her, simply wasn't there, wasn't right.

  She didn't want to be disappointed with Bruce, with their relationship, but she knew herself well enough to know she couldn’t have felt the way she did about Tony, or allowed herself to have sex with him, if she truly loved the man before her. She wanted to be fair to him. She had come here, kissed him, to see if she had simply been dazzled by Tony and by the past and all she had loved--and lost--because of it. But she felt no magic now, causing her to question if there'd ever been magic between them, or if she'd been fooling herself because she was so very tired of being unattached and, as such, supposedly fair game.

  He stepped back and looked at her quizzically.

  "I'm exhausted, Bruce," she said with a forced smile, then turned away from him. "This whole experience has left me an emotional and physical wreck."

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and began to knead them as he stepped closer behind her. "My poor little star."

  She stepped away. "I don’t know why I came over tonight. I’m tired. Jet lagged. The time change, you know. Why don’t we just have a cocktail, then I’ll head back home."