A Love for All Seasons (23 page)

She waved to Mrs. Kelly as she drove away, then patted Lucky's head. “Well, chum, I'm having no more of that orphaned little nobody stuff,” she said to the dog. “I'm one lucky girl.”

She didn't plan to go back to Dr. Tucker, but she did hold on to her telephone number just in case. The most pressing issue was behind her now. She knew where she came from. All that remained was to try to forget about Jack Devlin. She simply wasn't ready to be taken over lock, stock, and barrel, like a brand-new Chevy, and that was what he wanted.

Something told her this would be the hardest chore of all.

I Forgot To Remember To Forget

J
ack
raised his racquet to return his opponent's serve. He enjoyed playing racquetball. He found it an excellent way to burn off stress…an emotion in no short supply these days.

He'd earned accolades at work for the project he'd overseen that was unveiled back in January. The country boy from Alabama had impressed the big boys, even the small boys who didn't think him sophisticated enough to be a major player. The campaign he designed to help combat the negative press after a highly touted new drug performed poorly in tests resulted in an impressive holiday bonus for him. He'd promptly been handed another major assignment.

He didn't complain; it kept him busy, which meant he had less time to spend thinking about Alicia.

He hadn't seen or heard from her since the day he left her apartment the morning after their huge blowup, and he missed her terribly. In spite of the emotional turmoil he felt, he knew that unless she changed her views on love that they would never be happy. Breaking it off now would possibly save him years of frustration.

His social life had been reduced to impersonal games of racquetball with whoever was around, once weekly drinks with members of his staff at a bar near the office, and an occasional dinner with Pete and Rhonda. At the last one a week ago, Rhonda, now visibly pregnant, announced happily that they had a plan to accelerate their savings and help them get into a home of their own within eighteen months.

“Rhonda,” Pete said in a warning tone.

“Why shouldn't he know?”

Jack hated it when people talked about him like he wasn't there. “What shouldn't he know?” he said dryly. “You're moving in with Rhonda's parents or something? What's so secret about that?”

“Sorry, Jack,” Pete said sheepishly. “I didn't know if it would be a topic you'd want to hear about. It involves Alicia.”

The Robinsons knew about the breakup, but tactfully refrained from asking questions…or from saying the dreaded, “I told you so.” Jack tried without success to keep the anxiousness out of his voice. “Alicia? What about her?”

“Rhonda and I are going to sublet her apartment. It's small, but she'll rent it to us for half of what we're paying now.”

“That's why we figured we'd only stay for a year, a year-and-a-half tops,” Rhonda added. “By then we'll have plenty added to our house fund, and the baby will just be starting to walk.”

“It was either that or move in with my in-laws,” Pete said. “I'd rather live in one large room than have my mother-in-law around every day.”

“Watch it, Pete,” Rhonda said, her grin proving that her threatening tone wasn't meant to be taken seriously. “That happens to be my mother you're talking about.”

“I love your mother, baby. I just don't want to live with her, that's all.”

The exchange hardly registered with Jack. “That's awfully generous of Alicia,” he remarked, thinking of what she said about inheriting additional money from her mother. “I guess she's picking up the difference?”

“No, actually she's making a few dollars on the deal. Her rent is only six hundred and something. We'll pay her seven hundred.”

Jack found that incredible. “I know it's only a studio, but I thought that in New York even one-room apartments rented for over a thousand dollars. How can a place as nice as hers rent for only six hundred a month?”

“Six hundred thirty-seven dollars and eighty-three cents,” Rhonda said. “But it wasn't so nice when she first rented it, oh, I don't know, six or seven years ago. Remember, Pete?”

“I'll never forget it.” Pete wrinkled his nose. “Picture it, Jack. Layers of filthy linoleum filled with cigarette burns, the floors sinking in some areas, yellow-stained walls, and holes everywhere. It took a heck of a lot of tubs of compound to fill in all those holes. And the bathtub was so badly stained with rust that Alicia had to get a professional to re-glaze it.”

“It sounds like it should have been condemned.”

“The landlord hadn't done any maintenance on it in years,” Rhonda said. “The former tenant was an elderly gentleman who suffered from dementia and wasn't too keen on housekeeping. Alicia made an agreement with the landlord to rent it for the current rent-controlled rate if she cleaned it up herself.”

“If he'd done it he's allowed by law to raise the rent significantly, but he just didn't feel like being bothered,” Pete explained. “Rhonda and I, plus some other friends, helped her make it livable. It took us over a month. I can still remember how my arms ached from all that painting. The walls required three coats.”

“What about Alicia? If she's renting you two her apartment, where will she live?” The way Pete and Rhonda looked at each other told him that he wore his heart on his sleeve, but he'd never said he no longer cared about her. He just couldn't invest any more effort into a relationship that was doomed to fail.

He held his breath as he waited for someone to tell him, knowing it would hurt as bad as surgery without anesthesia if she'd decided to move in with one of her male friends.

“She's still not sure,” Rhonda answered, easing his fears. “She's looking all over the place, Brooklyn, the island, Jersey, even Connecticut. She wants to buy a house, someplace where her dog Lucky can have some space. Right now he's staying with Martha and her family, but Alicia wants him with her. She's already said that she plans to hang on to her apartment even after we move out. Maybe rent it out to people visiting New York. Lots of folks do that, you know.”

“She'd better hope the landlord doesn't find out,” Pete pointed out. “As it is, you and I will have to keep a low profile and get Alicia to visit often so it looks like she's still living there.”

Hearing about Alicia made Jack long to hear her voice again, to try one more time to convince her to give love a try. He kept telling himself to leave it alone, that he'd done the right thing.

And he wondered how long it would take to get over her.

 

Alicia could hear the surprise in Derek's voice. “Hey!” he exclaimed, clearly glad to hear from her. “I didn't think I'd be hearing from you anytime soon. I thought your man cut me out of the picture.”

His phrasing riled her, serving as a reminder that Jack wanted to put her in a cage like a pet parakeet. “No one has the right to cut anyone out of my life but me,” she declared, thinking of how she'd severed ties to Daphne.

“There you go. When I told you about it, I thought you'd lost your, what my grandfather used to call ‘gumption.'”

“I guess I did, but it was only temporary,” she said bitterly. “I've reclaimed it.”

“That's my girl. How about having dinner Friday night?”

She didn't hesitate. “I'd love to.”

 

The cold March air held no hint of the spring that was just around the corner. Alicia and Derek had dinner at a Thai restaurant on Columbus Avenue and set off for her apartment. They'd lingered for nearly two hours, catching up, but Alicia mentioned nothing about the adoption. She'd already decided that no one need know about the emotional trauma she'd been subjected to. She hadn't even filled Martha in, although she felt that one day she would. Right now it still hurt too much. She'd already decided not to tell anyone else; she saw no need. She knew that Jack had seen Pete and Rhonda Robinson, but she also knew he would not betray her confidence.

She absently wondered if Jack was seeing anyone, so much so that she barely noticed Derek reach for her hand as he pushed the door to her building open and handed the key back to her. She knew what he expected, and up until now she expected it, too. It was the one step she could take to prove to herself that she was over Jack.

Now, her mind filled with thoughts of him, she knew otherwise.

They climbed the stairs, and she unlocked the door to her apartment. Instead of going in with Derek following, she crossed the threshold and turned to him. “Derek…I'm sorry. I'm going to say good night.”

His surprise showed on his face. “Good night? Come on, Alicia. What is this, a joke? You're actually saying I can't come in?”

“If you come in you won't leave until the morning.”

He leered at her, and she found it repulsive. “Yeah, and what's wrong with that? That's the usual routine, isn't it? I know you're packing up your stuff, but isn't it just clothes and electronics? You said Pete and Rhonda are taking over your apartment furnished and are putting their things in her parents' basement.”

“It isn't just that I've got some boxes scattered all over the place. It's much more than that. I can't explain it. I'm sorry, Derek. I can't do this, not tonight. Maybe not ever again.”

He opened his mouth to object, then shut it and shrugged. “If you say so. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. It's always been something we both wanted.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I think I know the problem. There's only one reason why you don't want to be with me. It's because you want to be with someone else. I'll bet I know who he is, too.” Derek winked at her. “Go to him, Alicia.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Good night…and good luck.”

She closed the door behind him and leaned against it, her eyes shut tightly. She didn't understand what was happening to her.

She only knew that Derek was right; it had everything to do with Jack.

The Long and Winding Road

S
aturday
morning Alicia woke up and knew what she had to do. She walked over to Eighty-Seventh and Ninth Avenue, where she'd parked her car, and got in, heading north on the West Side Highway. She crossed into Connecticut on the Hutchinson River Parkway.

As she approached Stamford she began to experience misgivings. What if Jack wasn't home? Worse, what if he was entertaining female company overnight? It had been weeks since they broke up. She couldn't just show up on his doorstep and say, “I'm here!” Besides, in spite of the directions she'd printed out on the Internet she wasn't sure she could find his condo. Best to call ahead. If he didn't want to see her she could simply turn around and drive back to the city, or keep going until she reached Green's Farms.

Her house hunting hadn't been successful; everything she saw that she liked she couldn't afford. She decided to move into her parents' home until she knew for sure where she would settle. Daphne, Todd and little Fletch lived there now as well, and she knew Daphne wasn't happy about her decision, butAlicia knew she had a right to stay in the house she owned fifty percent of. Besides, she didn't want to hold up Pete and Rhonda, who were anxious to take over her apartment and the low rent that came with it. If Jack didn't want to see her she would leave New York and make a new start somewhere new. She would still retain ownership of the court stenography business, and Shannon could always hire someone to take her workload. Maybe she'd start a new one someplace.

She pulled over in a strip mall and haltingly dialed his number. The time had come to find out her destiny.

 

Jack planned to get in a few games of racquetball this morning, before the rain that had been predicted began to fall. The racquetball court was indoors, but he didn't feel like going outside in a cold March rain. Days like this were meant for lounging, or in his case, work. His creative side always thrived in inclement weather.

He had just grabbed his car keys when his phone began to ring. He hesitated for a moment, then realized it might be his parents or siblings calling with something important. He went to the phone. “Hello.”

“Hello, Dev.”

His jaw went slack. Only one person called him that. “Alicia.” He closed his eyes, savoring her name on his tongue. “Where are you?”

“I'm here, in Stamford. I had this overpowering urge to see you, Jack.”

“Tell me where you are. I'll be right there.”

 

He drove like a madman to the strip mall she named. He didn't know what had brought her here, but it could only be a good sign. He knew her well enough to know how difficult it was for her to reach out.

He spotted her car from the corner, but a traffic light prevented him from proceeding right away. He impatiently tapped on the steering wheel of his Aviator as he waited for the light to change.

Alicia saw him approach and got out of her car. Jack careened into the parking lot like a man driving under the influence, braking the Aviator to a jerky stop just a few feet away from her Solara. She simply stood looking at him for several seconds, then ran to him.

Jack held her to him, pressing his cheek to hers. He didn't care if anyone watched them embrace. He knew from the way she ran into his arms that she was there to stay.

She pulled back a little so she could see his face. “You were right, Jack,” she said. “I was being childish. I haven't been right since you left. I keep feeling like something was missing, and it was. You.”

Suddenly he could stand it no longer. He kissed her, hungrily, right there in broad daylight on one of Stamford's busiest avenues.

“I went to therapy,” she managed to say when he tore his lips away from hers. “I talked to someone who knew my parents and knew what happened that night. And I'm moving into my parents' house. Daphne might live there, but I have a right to live there, too.”

“It sounds like you've accepted your past without giving up on who you are.”

“Oh, I am.” Then she cupped his cheeks with her palms and said the words he thought he'd never hear.

“Jack…I need you.”