by Joanne Pence
She took hold of his arm, trying to get him to calm down, but he yanked his arm away hard. Savagely, he paced back and forth across the kitchen floor. "Not a damn thing I do matters," he bellowed. "Has it ever? I thought it did, but I had it shoved in my face just how wrong I was."
"It does matter," she cried, trying hard to get through to him, past his outrage. "You've come a long way. You've achieved many great things. And you have a boy who loves you, who'll want you to fight for him."
"Don't preach at me!" In two steps he stood in front of her, his face contorted. "You, of all people, know my worth--or lack of it. You left, didn't you? I wasn't good enough for you."
She was astounded. "You were always good enough. Too good."
"Hell!"
"Believe me "
"Believe you, Lisa? You? Give me one reason why I should?" His fury raged over her, intense in its scope and blind in its focus. "One reason why I should believe you, or trust you, or even care about you? You just flit in here for a while then take off again. When are you leaving this time?"
She pressed her hands against her stomach. "I haven't decided "
"You haven't decided!" He gave a mocking, bitter laugh, pacing around her like a prowling tiger. "No one else is involved, right? No one else matters, do they? How easy do you think this is for me, knowing one morning I'll wake up and you'll say, 'Time to be off, Tony. See you some decade.'"
Her heart breaking, she tried again to clutch his arm, to still his angry pacing. "I came back because I wanted to be with you."
"Why, damn it?" He wouldn’t let her hold onto him. Instead he pulled free and grabbed her upper arms. He walked toward her as she stepped backwards until she backed hard against the wall. "Why? That's what I don't get. You came because you were lonely?"
She shook her head, her arms hurting. "No, Tony."
He leaned into her. "Because you were curious about the kind of hell people can put themselves through when they don't live the pristine life of Lee Reynolds? Maybe you wanted to see that first hand?"
Her breath quickened. "No! Let go of me!"
"Maybe you just wanted a little stud service, then?" He shoved her from him.
She stumbled sideways, catching the countertop, holding it to steady herself. "Tony!" Tears welled in her eyes.
His shoulders, his entire body seemed to sag and he turned his back to her. "Get the hell out of here, Lisa. I don’t want to see you again. Not ever."
"You don't mean that. Not any of it."
He glanced at her. "Don't I? Years ago you walked away, and you've never had the goddamned decency to tell me the truth about why. Not back then, and not now. I kept waiting for an honest explanation. I told myself not to ask, not to show you how you made me feel by leaving. Do you know the hell that put me through? Do you even care?"
She felt as if all the blood drained from her face. "I told you the truth."
"Like hell! I told you I loved you, damn it! That I wanted to marry you. Didn’t that mean anything to you at all? I loved you so much I would have done anything for you. Anything! I thought you felt the same. What we had between us--Christ, I remember being scared half to death by it--but it was Heaven. I should know, because after you shut me out, I learned all about Hell."
Her knees seemed to give out. She reached for a chair and almost fell into it. She dropped her eyes, unable to look at the pain in his. "That was long ago."
He closed his eyes a moment, his head tilted back. Then he looked at her again, scowling fiercely. "I tried to forget about it, Lisa, I really did. Seeing you again, I tried to enjoy each moment with you and ignore the past. But it won't go away. It's with me whenever I look at you. I relive those last days and nights we spent together as kids, and wonder what happened."
"We grew up," she said softly.
"There's more to it than that. I've always wondered...were you really so ashamed, Lisa? Of what we started the night of the prom? Did I really make you feel so...soiled?"
The raw pain of his words slashed through her. "God, Tony, no! You couldn’t have thought that."
"Couldn't I? You were Lisa Marie, everybody's golden girl, and I was just a Mexican kid with dreams of baseball."
He turned away.
She bowed her head against his pain; against her own.
They sat alone in his big Bonneville after the prom. Her hands ran up and down his back, knowing that tonight the kind of petting they used to do in this car wasn’t going to be enough. They had done so much together, had grown up, and had fallen in love. But there was still one thing left, and she knew her first lover had to be Tony.
"I never lied about the way I felt about you," she whispered.
His flesh was like fire against hers, and she sought his lips as a remedy for the heat, only to find the fire that raged between them growing worse.
Her hand rubbed against the zipper of his trousers, feeling the swollen hardness beneath. "Don’t, Lisa." He took her hand away. "It’ll be too hard to stop. It may be too hard already."
"I don’t want to stop. I want you to show me that you love me. Show me."
"I’ve always..." He claimed her mouth again, sending shooting sensations stabbing through her. She would make him realize that there would never be anyone else for him. Not ever.
"That summer...after I left for baseball camp," he said, "you decided to leave early for college, and then that was it. It was over."
Sudden lightheadedness rocked her, her breath coming in short gasps, as the agony of how he'd felt, how completely he’d misunderstood all these years, hit her.
He sat in silence, his lips pressed firmly together, his face rigid.
Unshed tears pressed hard against her eyes. The time had come to tell him, but she wondered how she'd find the words. "I can't believe, thinking back, how very innocent we were," she began. "And, for supposedly bright kids, how very stupid. Remember how I took a bus into San Francisco and went to Planned Parenthood for birth control pills afterward? And how we even made love to celebrate my getting them?"
He stared at her, a dawning unease in his eyes as he slowly nodded.
She drew in her breath, held it, then let breath and words out in a mad rush. "After you left Miwok, I was an emotional basket case. I’ll admit it. Foolishly, perhaps, I took a pregnancy test—one of those I bought at a drug store. It was positive. I was happy about it, Tony. I wanted the baby. I believed that somehow, even with us both having big plans and wanting careers, it would all work out. I was going to tell you when you returned from camp..."
Judith burst into Lisa’s bedroom. “The test is positive, isn’t it?”
“How did you know?” Lisa asked, shocked that her mother had been spying on her.
"Get rid of it, damn it!" Judith screamed. "I won't have you ruining your life. I've done all I can to make sure you make something of yourself."
"I will. With Tony--"
"You stupid little fool! That's what I once thought--that even with a kid I could get ahead, become somebody. But I couldn't. You held me back. You! And now, that damn Mexican's brat will do the same thing to you. Get rid of it!"
"I won't!" Lisa tried to run from her bedroom. Judith grabbed her arm.
"Don't you run from me," Judith ordered. "I was talking to you."
"I don't want to hear it. Leave me alone!" Lisa tried to pull free, but Judith’s grip was strong.
"What don't you want to hear? The truth? Isn't it about time I told you? I never wanted you! Not one little bit."
"Do you really think I didn't already know that?" Lisa cried, tears streaming. "Go away. Just go away from me. I'll keep my baby, I'll take care of it!"
“You've been nothing but one disappointment after the other. And this is the worst."
"Get out of here!" Lisa shrieked.
"You've never lived up to my expectations, not once. You're truly your father's daughter."
Lisa moved towards the stairs, practically dragging Judith with her in her struggle to get away from her. But
Judith pressed her face so close Lisa could feel her breath, see the alcohol-crazed fury in her eyes. "You're just as worthless as he was. I've always known it. How long before your 'boyfriend' learns it, too? Before you disappoint him the way you've disappointed everyone else in your life, with your cheap, disgusting--"
"Shut up!" Lisa shoved Judith hard, needing to get out of that house.
Judith let go of her cane and grabbed Lisa’s hair. "Damn you! Don't you dare push your mother!"
"You're no mother! You never have been." Lisa tried to pull free, but Judith's fingers were like talons, gripping her. She twisted toward the stairs, toward freedom, half-dragging Judith with her.
"You ruined my life." Judith spat out the words. "You and your father both, and now you want to ruin my plans, my dreams."
They reached the top of the stairs.
"Why didn't you die instead of my father!" Lisa cried, still struggling. "I hate you."
"You evil child!" All of a sudden, either Judith let go, or Lisa somehow pulled herself free. She couldn’t tell, but she saw Judith's look of triumph only moments before she felt herself falling, screaming as she banged against the parade of childhood pictures that hung along the staircase....
"Judith and I fought, and she said terrible things...words that made me doubt everything about who and what I thought I was." She took a deep breath. "I fell down the stairs. All I remember is waking up lying on the sofa, a cold compress on my head, and Judith looking scared. I was in a lot of pain, but Judith insisted I didn’t need a doctor. All I know is the next time I took a pregnancy test, it came up negative.” She shut her eyes a moment. “In retrospect, I believe the first test was a false positive. I was a teenager with my emotions going every which way. In later years, I asked my gynecologist if it looked like I ever miscarried, and she saw no signs—although she said that wasn’t conclusive. Back then, though, I feared I lost the baby. I was devastated. I couldn’t bear to stay in Judith’s house. I left it and went to live with Miriam. Miriam helped me through it, through all of it."
He sat across the table from her, shocked, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. When he spoke, his voice was husky. "My God, Lisa. I never imagined."
"I know," she murmured, then shook her head, unable to tell him what she believed Judith had done.
"Why didn't you come to me? At least tell me?"
"And say what?" Her voice was too sharp, too curt. "I was young and hurting. I just wanted to forget all of it...Miwok, my mother...even you. I was just a few weeks along, Tony. It was as if none of it was real to me, that if I didn’t talk about it, I could more easily forget how much it hurt, how much I grieved. I know now that I was wrong, but I felt…I felt like…everything Judith said to me was true."
He waited, as if knowing there was more she wasn't telling him, but she remained silent. "Whenever I called you from camp, Judith would only say you were out and hang up. Cheryl didn't know what had happened either. It wasn't until I came back that I found you in San Diego. Remember when I called you? You sounded like a stranger."
"I was...even to myself." She slowly rubbed her hands, trying to find a way to explain those days. "I'd convinced myself there was no room in our ambitions and careers, at our age, for a baby. I didn't want you to know what had happened. What would that have solved? Besides, you were being scouted, you had a future in baseball, and I had college....That was why I said we needed to go our own ways, to think about our futures. I needed, at that time, to forget the past."
"It wouldn't have been a matter of 'solving' anything. It had to do with feelings and caring about each other." He shook his head as if disgusted by her explanation.
Lee tightly clasped her hands. "A few months afterward, when I had the distance and perspective to cope with telling you, I did try to reach you, but I learned you were in Florida playing ball, and that your prospects were good. You'd gotten on with your life. And so, I resolved to do the same with mine. I didn't want to write you a letter about all that had happened, and I didn't want to do anything that might disrupt your life, so I decided I'd wait, and one day, tell you face-to-face."
He felt as if she’d stabbed him through the heart. "I just don't get it. We were in love, we shared everything..."
"And suddenly, my world went to hell, while yours was getting better. We were only eighteen, and I was angry and hurt and grieving. I convinced myself that a high school romance was immature, my memories colored and surreal. I wanted to forget."
He didn't respond, but averted his eyes to the wall as he shook his head, his jaw tight, his face cold and twisted.
"A few years after college," she continued, "I was offered the job in New York City. Before I went so far away, I returned to Miwok, to settle things here in my mind...and my heart. I knew I owed you an explanation, and I finally thought that since we were both older, wiser, I could somehow reconcile my past.
"The visit was a failure. My mother was even more hateful, and I learned that you had married. I finally put you out of my mind, and went to New York. I kept going forward and never looked back...until four months ago when I came home."
He stared hard at her, as if seeing her, really seeing her, for the first time. "I'm sorry, Lisa," he said, his voice low and icier than she'd ever heard it. "Sorry about the past...sorry that you didn't see fit to tell me what was happening and let me try to help you through it. Sorry that you still haven't told me all of it, probably because you're trying to hide some ugliness involving your miserable drunk of a mother who wasn't worth your time of day...And more than anything else, I'm sorry that you're still fooling yourself."
She replayed his words, sure she had misheard. "Fooling myself?" she repeated, confused.
He got to his feet and poured himself another shot of bourbon, drinking it down in one gulp. He stared at a wall a moment, then ever so slowly turned and faced her. His eyes were flat, his shoulders sagged, and his expression was one of utter defeat. "You were raised well: to be ambitious, to do what was needed to get ahead. You seem to want to remember our relationship back then as all rosy and light, but it wasn't that way. Not one goddamned bit. You were determined to get ahead--I was a piker compared to you and I was the most ambitious guy I knew. You pushed and stepped on people like hell to be the best and brightest in high school, and I knew it."
"No--" she protested, but he cut her off.
"I watched you go after Steve Peters, I watched you go after Ken Walters, and a few guys in between. You always came back right away, and I was so damned crazy about you I put up with it. You said they were the type of guy your mother expected you to be with, but they were the type you expected yourself to be with."
She stared at him, the shock of his words crippling.
"You know what's funny, Lisa? When you talked about your future, you never bothered to factor me in. I assumed you meant I'd be with you, and maybe on some level you did, but deep down, can you see the elegant Lee Reynolds with some Texas-born Mexican baseball player? I can’t. It doesn’t fit her image--and she’s got an image, Lisa. One you’ve carefully created."
He leaned closer. "Each action you took--starting with running away after your miscarriage and not"--his voice suddenly broke--"and not telling me, or even your closest friend about your pregnancy, all of it was a means to an end, to your carefully conceived plans and ambition. You can blame your mother for teaching you well, if you want. But, Lisa, you were a star pupil."
She wanted to scream that he was wrong, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t do a thing but ache from the pain of his accusation.
So she said nothing, breaking inside for him, for the foolish girl she once was, for all the might-have-beens between them. The woman she was now told her it was time to leave. Wobbly, she rose from the chair. Scarcely breathing, she somehow made it to the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned and faced him, her voice calm.
"You're a wonderful man, and a wonderful father. You'll get Ben back. It might take time, but you will." She pulled the
door open. "I made a lot of mistakes, Tony. But I love you. The hell of it is, I always have."
Chapter 25
She didn’t hear from Tony on Saturday, and Sunday she returned to New York.
The day after, she went to Bruce’s apartment. He opened the door immediately to her knock. Color drained from his face as he looked at her.
"I’m sorry, Bruce." She handed him his apartment key. "Someday, I hope we can once again be friends."
He stared at it lying in his palm, then closed his fist around it. "Would you come in so we can talk about this? You owe me an explanation."
"What can I say that hasn't already been said? I really am sorry. You deserve better." She turned to leave.
"I’m not through with you." He grabbed her arm.
She pressed her lips and stepped into his elegant Victorian and Oriental living room. "This isn’t about you, Bruce," she said immediately. "It’s me. I’m feeling very confused."
His next words only emphasized the rift between them. "Confused? Teenagers are confused. Thirty-five year old women are not confused. You were fine until you went back to that...that Mukluk-whatever place. You act like you’re the one who died instead of your mother."
She rubbed her arms. "I know it doesn’t make sense--"
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. "Get clear on one thing right now, Lee. I’ve tried to be understanding, but I’m through. I don’t want you walking out on me."
"You can’t stop me, Bruce." Controlling her anger, she freed her arm and took a step from him--one step that stretched like a chasm between them.
"Good God, Lee. Don’t you get it? I want us to marry. Now. I want you here, with me as your husband. We make a good team. We’d be America’s sweethearts. You on Nighttime News--if they’ll still have you after you’ve waffled all these months--and me as CEO for Atlas Insurance. I don’t see how you can throw it all away."
"America’s just going to have to find another couple, sweetheart." She turned to go.
"Will you wake up to what you’re doing? This is important!"
