5 Alive After Friday (21 page)

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the many features I loved about my new Magnolia Palms condominium, besides
being in West Palm Beach and near the water, was the building security. All
access to the apartments was through the security desk in the lobby. And if
somehow someone snuck past the guard the elevators were unusable except by
tenants with the proper access code. I’d left word at the security desk that
Gail Holman in 208 was expecting a Mr. Martin Bronner at seven. The guards
would check his ID, sign him in and send him up.

My nerves had settled down and I was prepared for
his visit—until security phoned and said he was actually on the way up. He
wasn’t going to like me at all. No, I should think positive; I might be the
girl of his dreams. Could happen. Yeah, right. Then I panicked. The new
strapless outfit I’d been fussing with since I got home from work was stupid. He’s
not going to take me in his arms when I open the door anyway.

I bought it at Nordstrom’s on lunch hour for a
month’s pay—well, it seemed like it. Nordie’s for chrissake. I ran to the
bedroom and found a simple straight skirt and a white blouse. I was changing
into that when the door buzzed. I checked myself in the mirror. Shit. For one
thing the skirt was all wrong, should be shorter something that hit just above
my knees. I freaked and fumbled and somehow got the strapless outfit back on and
was heading for the door fussing with the bra, when he buzzed again.

I opened the door and tried to look desirable
while reaching behind with one hand to check if I’d zipped. He smiled and
glanced down. I’d forgotten my shoes.

“Impressive building, you have here. How are you,
Gail?”

Or something like that, I don’t really remember. I
greeted him and led him on into my sensational powder-blue and cream living
room. I wasn’t the one who designed it, but he didn’t know that.

He was wearing a dark blue blazer with gray pants.
Impeccable. He had one of those bodies that look good in clothes. The look came
off as too uptight but I loved it. Beautiful eyes. His dark brown hair was
perfectly in place, probably stayed that way even in hurricanes.

I needed to say something about not wearing shoes.
Perhaps going shoeless would make me appear unconventional and comfortable with
myself. But I didn’t want to take the chance of offending him. I felt sexy
standing there in my bare feet. Still, I had to remember this guy wasn’t needy,
wasn’t primarily after sex. Or if he was, he was being super cool about it. Come
to think of it, I didn’t have the slightest idea what he was after.

“Give me a second, Martin. I was just changing my
shoes. Take a seat anywhere. Be right back.” I wasn’t all that unhappy when I
reappeared. I was two inches taller.

“How long have you lived here?”

“Not even a month yet. I’m thrilled with it. Isn’t
it great? Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Hard to believe, one month and already you’ve
done all this sophisticated decorating?”

“I cannot tell a lie. I’m buying it furnished. At
first that sounded low-class to me, however my brother said it was very smart.
That I was getting good furniture for pennies on the dollar and could take my
time replacing what I wanted.”

“Your brother’s right. Not low-class at all.
There’s high-class and there’s upper class. Don’t confuse them. Not everyone in
the upper class is classy.”

I loved how he spoke. Like he was conducting a
class. Like he could take care of any woman. I said, “Is greeting a guest
barefooted classy.”

“I’d say you’ve pulled it off nicely.”

“Let me take your jacket...come over here, Martin.”
I led the way across the hardwood floors in the living room-dining room area,
out to the shallow balcony. “The less-expensive units on these lower floors
don’t look out toward the ocean, but a nice view anyway. Stand here and look
over there between those two high-rise apartments. You can see some of the
Intracoastal Waterway.”

“Nice. And you have two bedrooms?”

“My brother, Ryan, is temporarily staying with me
while his house is being fixed up.” I didn’t intend to go into the murder of
Myra. Such things don’t happen in sensible families. “He’s away for a couple
days, however. He won’t be here tonight.” Just in case you’re wondering,
lover-boy. “You might be curious about how I can afford this on a mall
employee’s salary.”

“People can gain wealth in an amazing number of
ways. None of which are any of my business.”

“In my case, I was born poor. Like gluing the
soles back on my shoes poor. We lived on nothing—sometimes less.” I tried to
sound unconcerned, as though it were all far behind me. “My father stayed poor
by living like he was rich.”

“Big mistake. And many rich people stay rich by
living as though they are poor.”

I wondered if I should tell him that until a month
ago I was on the path to staying poor. “Martin, let’s have a drink. I mix a
damn good martini.” I hadn’t in a while but was good at it back when I was
living the high life.

He nodded his approval and followed me across the
living room to the room divider near the kitchen, where I’d positioned the new
bottles of gin and vermouth. I remembered the brands my ex always had—he always
bought the best. And I remembered Martin had ordered Tangueray at the bistro. “Do
you like it dry? Shaken or stirred?”

“Just go ahead. I’d like to try it your way. And
in return, can I fix you something?”

“I cannot tell a lie. I had something before you
came.” And I was going to need a couple more to make it through the evening.

“I believe you should have another.”

“Yes, I’ll have another. That red wine on the
kitchen counter, thank you.”

I was trying to sound clever, always dangerous, if
it’s not really you. I wanted so much for him to like me and didn’t even know
how to talk to him. I didn’t know how to handle the guy. Let’s face it I was
intimidated. Ordinary guys are so much easier. They show up all smiles. They
want to take you out and have fun. They want you to laugh and have a good time
too. They want to end up in bed and so do you. No problems.

Maybe I should let my feelings out, he probably
can see right through me anyway. I turned to him and said, “Imagining the two
of us up here in my apartment has upset my day...I mean I was nervous about it.”
Why did I say such a stupid thing?

“Relax, you’re taking me and this situation much
too seriously,” he said. “We’re going to have a couple of drinks, do some
talking, and then go out and enjoy an evening together.”

He handed me the wine, picked up the martini and
held it high. “A toast to friendship.”

“I’ll drink to that.” We sipped our drinks. “I
feel better already. Thanks for taking the pressure off.”

“I’m so sorry you felt I was pressuring you.”

“You didn’t do it consciously. But you’ve an aura
about you. Let’s sit over there.” We moved to the couch and put our drinks on
the coffee table. I had a chance to size him up again. Terrible of me to be
judging him by the quality of his clothing. Probably never touched polyester in
his entire life.

“Tell me about your childhood,” I said. “Did you
try smoking behind the garage, ever steal an apple from an open market, or get
caught lying?”

“Everything you just mentioned seems uncomfortably
familiar. Telling lies to your parents about where you went and what you did
doesn’t count, does it?” He chuckled so I’d know he was joking.

I answered, “Of course not. But I doubt if you did
much of that. I picture you sitting quietly by the fireplace reading...what did
you read as a little boy, Charles Dickens?”

“Comic books.”

I wasn’t going to get a serious answer regarding
his background. That was okay at this stage. Looking at him, I guessed he’d
never ever been needy. Never eaten expired food. Never had to steal as an adult
to get something he absolutely needed. Always had plenty of everything and
wanted for nothing. “I’ll bet you’ve never stolen anything in your entire life.
Silly of me to say that. I’m just fascinated with you.”

“I don’t know how we got on the subject of lying and
stealing, but you’re wrong. I stole a rubber duck from a cousin, twenty-dollars
out of my mother’s purse, a library book and a kiss from a fifth-grade
classmate.” He sipped his martini. “No one has ever asked me that question
before and I want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to confess. I feel
much better now. In my defense, I must explain, there were grievous extenuating
circumstances in each case. Especially the rubber duck. I really wanted that
rubber duck.”

The guy was fantastic; I thought I was falling for
him. “Forget everything else. Tell me about the kiss.”

“I thought it was beautiful and never forgot it.
She thought it was disgusting and never spoke to me again.”

Was this guy for real? At that moment, I
desperately wished I’d something more than sex to offer him.

“How did you meet your former husband?”

Wow! That question certainly sucked all the magic
out of the air. I blinked and stared at him curiously. “I never said I was
married.” Where did that come from, I wondered.

He had a sudden pained look on his face and said
nothing for a long moment. “I thought you said...something...yesterday.”

I didn’t remember saying anything, but if he
wanted to talk about me it was okay. “Anyway, don’t look so sour. The subject
isn’t off limits. As a matter of fact, the story starts with me stealing. You
sure you want to hear it?”

He raised his glass and nodded to encourage me to
keep talking.

“I worked in a pizza parlor, years ago and stole
every day. Never money. Little precious, forbidden pieces of mushroom or tomato
I cleaned up and pretended to throw away. The boss let us have one free slice
for lunch. Otherwise, eating on the job would get you fired. Every day I’d
steal pieces of raw pizza dough, hide them in my pocket and eat it as soon as I
got out the door. I pretty much lived on pizza and pizza dough. A wonder I can
even look at pizza now, yet it’s just the opposite. I buy it now and stuff it
down because no one can stop me.”

The subject made me hungry. I excused myself, went
to the fridge and brought back the platter of fancy cheeses and little cracker
bites I’d picked up on the way home.

“Anyway, this customer noticed me ravishing my daily
free slice of pizza, which took all of five seconds and was waiting for me when
I left work. He bought me a beer. God that tasted good. I remember the bar had
free nuts. He was a little older, nice enough. You’ve heard of a movie star
discovered in a drug store. Well, I was discovered in a pizza parlor with sauce
on my face and unbaked dough in my pocket.”

I offered Martin a napkin and nudged the platter
closer to him. He tried the fancy cheese and crackers and nodded approval.

He was waiting for me to continue, but I was still
thinking about Bucky, who told me later, the pizza sauce smeared on my mouth
had turned him on. It sounded kinky and I thought he was kidding. I honestly
believe he might have been a virgin and chose me because I wasn’t so gorgeous
as to intimidate him. The pre-marital sex was very primitive; I’d done more in
the back of a movie theater when a teenager. I guess he was so impressed he
wanted to marry me. I didn’t want to look forward to that level of sex life,
but—.

I turned back to Martin. “He was rich. So I said
yes and we were married. Am I shocking you, Martin?”

“We live and learn.”

“Can you imagine a woman frantic enough to settle
for money?”

“My grandmother would say you married well and
leave it at that. With a wave of her hand, she’d have forbidden all future discussions
of the matter.”

“Yes, married well and ended up poor.” I needn’t
have worried about Bucky being kinky. All the sex stopped immediately. “I
killed him later, didn’t you hear?”

“I must have missed the newspaper that day.”

“That’s what his family claimed. I should have
killed him to stop the abuse—nothing physical, just emotional.” I was
exaggerating for Martin’s benefit. Mostly, I was just bored out of my gourd. “He
came from a wealthy family—.”

He had a sailboat and that’s where the problem
began. Well, I guessed Martin could hear part of it. “He had a sailboat,
Martin. Not so large that one person couldn’t handle it, but he often had some
guy from the yacht club go out with us. This one time the two of us went out
alone. We were out of sight of land when the wind came up unexpectedly. Yet,
nothing we couldn’t handle in a boat that size. The day was beautiful and we
kept sailing with no problems. At one point when we were coming about—turning,
you know—the boom swung over fiercely. If you’ve ever sailed, you know that’s
not unusual and you have to be alert. Well, he wasn’t. It knocked him off his
feet and he went flying overboard. He went under. Didn’t come right back up and
I couldn’t see him. I panicked running from side to side on the boat looking for
him, trying to see where he came up. But he didn’t come up. I radioed for help.”

I must have appeared distressed relating the death
of my husband, because Martin put his hand on my arm. “What a horrible way to
die. So horrible for you to go through all that. And from the way you’re
talking your suffering was just beginning.”

“I can’t say he was my lifelong love, but still it
was the loss of someone I lived with intimately, and he loved me. But the
ordeal that followed was a nightmare.”

“You mean the inquest?”

“That was bad enough, yet there was no problem at
that point. Ruled an accident immediately. But his family didn’t want that.
They saw a chance to get a fantastic amount of money by cutting me out of the inheritance.
Mind you, he had a trust fund, securities, an interest in the family business,
the whole enchilada—that I’d inherit as his surviving spouse.”