Twice in a Lifetime (19 page)

She opened the door to find Drake standing there, running a hand through his dark hair. But unlike the night after they first met, this time he seemed distracted, and the smile he gave her looked forced.

“What’s the matter?” Clara asked, frowning.

But instead of answering her question, Drake asked one of his own. “How are things with your mother?”

Clara told him what had happened, from trying in vain to get Christine to open her door to her shock at hearing the piano, and then about their conversation.

Drake occasionally nodded during her story, a bit absently, she thought. He wasn’t even looking at her when he said, “That’s great.”

“Why don’t you come in,” Clara told him, stepping aside. “I can fix you something to eat.”

Drake shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay out here. I’m so worked up right now that I can hardly stay still.”

Once again, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath. “You might want to sit down…”

Clara sat on the porch swing. Unlike the night before, Drake didn’t join her; instead he paced back and forth in front of the railing. She began to feel uneasy.

“Drake…” Clara said.

He stopped and looked at her. “When I came to get you at the bank, what was happening between you and your boss?”

“Eddie…had asked me to stay after work…” Clara answered, uncomfortable with the question but unwilling to lie. “He was upset about something I hadn’t done…”

“Something that had to wait until after the bank was closed?”

Clara froze. This question was more direct, one she couldn’t deflect so easily; in the end, she chose not to say anything.

Drake came over and leaned against the porch railing opposite her. “Clara,” he said softly, insistently. “Tell me.”

She looked up at him, the sun shining off the side of her face, uncertain about what she should do. Hesitantly, she said, “Eddie…is infatuated with me. He…wanted me to stay after work so that we could talk…He said that if I didn’t…I could lose…my job…”

“That’s all?” Drake pressed. “Your position at the bank?”

Clara knew that this was her moment of truth. All she had to do was tell Drake that Eddie threatened to take away her home in order to force her to marry him. But she couldn’t do it. It was too embarrassing, a blow to her pride not all that different from what her mother suffered because of her memory loss. Besides, what good would come of her telling Drake? How could he possibly help? Somehow, some way, she would find a solution on her own.

“That’s all,” she lied.

Drake was silent for a long while, watching her closely. Finally, he nodded his head, got up from the railing, and headed for the stairs. He was halfway down the walk before Clara, confused by what was happening, shouted to him.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He stopped, his shoulders slumped, then turned back; his expression was one of disappointment. “You’re lying to me.”

Clara’s heart raced. Shame forced her to look away. Somehow, he knew.

“Drake, I…I…” she stammered.

“I already know everything,” Drake told her. “I know
exactly
what that bastard is holding over you.”

W
ALKING AWAY FROM
Clara was one of the hardest things Drake had ever done. But she’d left him little choice. He knew everything about her and Eddie, that the banker was blackmailing her into becoming his wife. Drake had even been offered thousands of dollars to step aside and let it happen. But when he’d given the woman he was falling in love with a chance to be honest with him, Clara had lied to his face. This wasn’t a time for secrets. All of their cards needed to be laid on the table.

“How…how do you know?” Clara asked, astonished.

“Eddie came to see me at the hotel this morning. He was upset that I’d interrupted the two of you and wanted to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. He offered me money to leave town.”

“He tried to bribe you?”

Drake nodded. “He wasn’t playing around. It was an awful lot.”

“And…and you…?” She didn’t finish her question, but Drake could see the hope in her eyes as plainly as if she had, wishing for the right answer.

“I tore up the check,” he said. “But that didn’t bother Eddie for long. He pulled out his checkbook and offered to double it.” Drake paused, letting the words linger. “I told him there was no amount he could pay to make me leave you.”

Relief washed over Clara’s face, but Drake quickly wiped it away.

“But that’s not all,” he explained. “Eddie said that if I didn’t do as he asked, if I refused to take the money, he’d take your home.” He looked up at the porch. “He said that he’d doctor the books to make it look like you were behind on the payments. If you didn’t agree to marry him, he’d throw you out on the street.”

Drake watched Clara crumble. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She hugged herself tightly, as if she was trying to keep from shaking. But her gaze never wavered, holding his, though her lip trembled.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Drake demanded. “Why did you lie?”

His questions were enough to make her look away. “Because I was embarrassed,” she answered. “Because I’m ashamed to be in this position. Because I’ve spent the last nine years struggling, doing most everything on my own, and I’m sick of asking for help.” Her eyes once again found his; they were narrow, smoldering. “I still have some pride left. It might not be much, beaten down and tired as it is, but it’s enough so that I don’t want to bare every problem I have. Not to you. Not to anyone.”

Drake’s respect for Clara grew. Inside her, no matter how deep it was buried, remained a spark of strength that neither Eddie nor any of her other troubles could extinguish. He had noticed it the day they met; it was one of the many things that had attracted him to her.

“How much do you still owe on the house?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Drake insisted.

“Lots. More than I could ever hope to raise if Eddie actually went through with his threat. I’d lose everything, and he knows it.”

Drake had a thought. There was the money he’d been squirreling away, both the little amount in the bank in Illinois and what was buried in the bottom of his duffel bag back at the hotel. It likely wouldn’t be enough to pay off the loan, but it wasn’t chicken feed, either; it might buy them time, a chance to find another bank without such an unscrupulous owner or to expose Eddie’s lies. Slowly, a plan began to take form in his mind. The thought struck Drake that maybe all those years of diligently socking away cash had been so that right here, right now, he could save Clara. So that they could start a life together.

“Maybe there’s another way…”

Clara’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Even if Eddie called in your loan,” he said, “nothing would happen right away. You’d have some time.”

“Enough to pack my things and get out,” Clara added.

He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. You might be able to get another bank to cover you.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Why not?”

“If Eddie has gone through with his threat, it’s because I turned down his proposal,” she explained. “If I don’t agree to marry him, he’ll fire me for sure. That means I won’t have any income. Without that, no one, certainly no other bank, would be willing to take a risk on me.”

“Unless you could give them some money up front. A down payment.”

“Which I don’t have,” Clara said, frustrated.

“You might not,” he answered. “But
I
do.”

“What are you talking about?”

Once again, Drake began to pace, growing more energized with every step. “Ever since I started racing, I’ve put away some of my winnings,” he began. “It was never a lot of money at once, a hundred dollars here, twenty there, whatever I could spare. But if you do that for a decade or more, it adds up. I’ve been hauling it around with me, waiting for the rainy day when I might need it. Looks to me like that day has finally arrived.”

“No,” Clara answered emphatically, shaking her head. “I can’t let you do that. I won’t take your money.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Your garage,” she said, coming down the stairs to stand before him. “You were planning to open it with your savings, weren’t you?”

“But that was before I knew—”

“If you give me that money,” Clara interrupted him, “will you have enough left over to get started?”

Drake took a deep breath. “I won’t,” he admitted.

“And that’s why I can’t let you do it.”

“It isn’t your choice to make. Besides, what if we said that I’m not giving it to you, but that it’s a loan?”

“We’d be old and wrinkled before I could pay you back.”

Drake smiled. “I wouldn’t mind, as long as we’re still together.”

His words stunned Clara. He’d said it lightly, yet when she searched his face, there was no humor in his eyes. It was no joke. What Drake was suggesting was life-changing for both of them. He was offering commitment, stability, and hope, things that she hadn’t had in so long they felt unfamiliar. He was proposing a plan to keep Eddie from taking her home, but also something grander, the idea that they could build a life together. And while she was surprised, Clara found herself wanting to take him up on his offer, to believe it was possible. In a way, Drake was asking her to take a leap of faith.

But Clara was having trouble taking that first step…

“Let me help you,” Drake said again.

“I…I…can’t…” she said. “You’re offering too much…”

“No, I’m not,” he insisted. “Ever since we met, you’ve talked about all the troubles weighing you down. But here I am, trying to make things better, and you won’t let me.”

Clara didn’t know how to answer.

Drake stepped closer, reached out, and took her hand. “In a way,” he began, “I understand why you don’t want my help.”

“You do?”

He nodded. “For years, you’ve had to do it on your own. But it doesn’t have to be that way anymore. You’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“I’m a widow. I have a son…”

Drake shook his head. “None of that changes a thing. I want to be there…for all of you.”

Clara’s heart knocked hard in her chest.

“I’m not your husband. I’m not Joe,” Drake continued as he searched her eyes, looking into their depths. “I can’t ever replace what you had with him. The truth is, I don’t want to. All I want is a chance to create something special with you. Our
own
love. But that won’t happen while you’re living in the past. Yesterdays are fine and dandy, but if you aren’t careful, you’ll spend all your time looking backward and miss tomorrow.”

Clara squeezed his hand tightly, clinging to him, her knees unsteady.

“I’ve spent my whole life going from one place to the next,” Drake said. “It’s time for me to stop running, to put down roots. This is my chance to build something, but I can’t do it on my own. You need to meet me halfway.”

I want to…I really do…

But Clara still couldn’t bring herself to say the words. “You’re right,” she answered, wiping away a tear. “Things have been a mess for so long that I don’t remember it being any different. Even now, with you a part of my life, I have to deal with Eddie, my mother almost burned the house down, and then there’s Tommy…I…I don’t know where he is…”

Drake frowned. “He still hasn’t come back?”

Clara shook her head.

Drake looked past her and toward the street, as if he was searching for her son. “All right, then,” he said. “Let’s take care of one problem at a time. First, we find Tommy, and then we can talk about what to do with Eddie.”

Clara glanced back at the house. “I can’t leave my mother,” she explained. “Not now. Not so soon after what happened.”

“Then I’ll go look for him.”

“What will you do if you find him?” She recalled what Drake had said about his first encounter with Tommy, her son storming off at the mention of Naomi.

“Nothing. Anything I say will likely go in one ear and out the other anyway. Right now, the most important thing is to find out if he’s all right.”

“The first place I’d look is the Marshland Tavern. Naomi’s father owns it.”

“Then that’s where I’ll start.”

For a short while, neither of them spoke. Then, gently yet insistently, Drake pulled her to him. Clara felt as if she floated into his arms, her feet never touching the ground. She raised her chin and closed her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. When he kissed her, it was tender, as soft as a flower brushing against her cheek, but with enough emotion to make her pulse race. It was over quickly, no longer than a few fevered beats of her heart, though Clara knew she would feel its effects long after Drake had driven away.

Just before he reached the Plymouth, he stopped and turned back. “I’ll find Tommy,” he promised her.

With all that she had, Clara hoped he was right.

Drake started his search for Tommy at the tavern Clara had told him about. From the outside, it looked like hundreds of others he’d come across over the years: it was a dump. If there was one thing Drake had learned, it was that when it came to alcohol, most people didn’t give a damn where they got it, only that they did. At three in the afternoon, only the desperate and lonely were staring into the bottom of a glass. Pushing open the front door, Drake found two men in the bar; one had his head down on the dull wood and looked to be asleep, and the other was the bartender, spit-shining a glass with his dirty apron. Tommy was nowhere to be seen.

So Drake looked everywhere else he could think of.

He drove up one street and down another, his head on a swivel, peering into every window, checking alleyways, and searching every yard. He followed the river to either end of Sunset. He stopped on the train tracks and stared in each direction. He went into the library and walked among the stacks. He parked beside a rusty bridge, the Gaylords singing “Tell Me You’re Mine” following him out the open window, and checked the dark recesses beneath the trestle. But no matter where he looked, still nothing.

Everywhere he went, Drake couldn’t stop thinking about Clara.

The more time he spent with her, the more certain he was that he wanted to grow old with her by his side. While her reluctance to take his money frustrated him, he understood it at the same time. Just like her, he was used to making his own decisions, unencumbered by the opinions of others. Still, there were times when taking someone’s help was necessary; for Clara, this was one of those times.

Drake knew that other men would be jealous, angry about competing against a ghost, but not him. That Clara had been married to another man, that she’d had a son with him, didn’t matter. His pride wasn’t threatened. Everyone had a past, some more cluttered than others. Just because Clara had loved once before didn’t mean she couldn’t again. She just needed someone special, the right man. Drake was convinced that
he
was who she’d been waiting for. All he wanted was a chance to build something with her, a love that could stand its own test of time. For that opportunity, he would fight through Eddie, Amos’s disapproval, anything.

By the time Drake returned to the tavern, the sun had sunk almost to the horizon. The shadows were long; darkness would soon arrive. In the three hours since he’d last been there, the bar had changed. There were a dozen cars and trucks parked out front. A sign advertising beer flickered in one dingy window. Music carried out the open door, drifting into the street.

Inside was livelier, too. People milled about after work, most everyone drinking. A couple kissed beside the jukebox, the man’s hand roaming across his gal’s rear end, oblivious to or uncaring about the scene they were making. Over the din of voices and music came a hoot of triumph. In a small back room, two men were playing pool; one pumped his cue in the air, his laugh a sharp cackle, while the other reluctantly held out a couple of crumpled dollars. Leaning against the bar, customers held up empty glasses, placing orders just as fast as the bartender could fill them; a younger woman stood with him behind the bar, though she seemed unwilling to help. The same drunk who had been there during his first visit was still slumped in his chair, although this time, he appeared to be awake.

Drake walked the bar looking for Tommy, but he wasn’t there. Tired, as well as a little thirsty, he decided to wait and see if Clara’s son would show up; after all, he’d already searched the whole town.

As he neared the bar, a seat suddenly emptied, and Drake slid into it. Minutes passed before the bartender could work his way to him, but soon enough the man asked, “What can I get for ya?”

Drake ordered a beer. When the man returned with his drink, Drake plunked a few coins on the bar and asked, “Do you know Tommy Sinclair?”

The bartender’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Sure,” he said.

“Has he been around lately?”

“Been a while. Couple a days, I reckon.”

Drake nodded. “Thanks anyway.”

He took a draw from his beer and then turned around to face the door. From here, he could see the whole bar and out the window to the sidewalk. If Tommy came in or happened to walk by, Drake would see him. He could afford to be patient. He didn’t want to return to Clara empty-handed, but if he did, he’d know it wasn’t for lack of trying.