ENCORE PERFORMANCE (THE MATCHMAKER TRILOGY) (16 page)

Carissa walked out of the lobby of the motel with the
door key in her hand. Thomas stood, propped against the
car. He still looked to her like Jimmy Stewart. He was so
talented, so beautiful, and always just a little out of place.

“Okay, we’re set. I got us a room with two beds.” She
kept a straight face as she approached him and headed
toward the trunk to retrieve her suitcase.

“Good. You kick in your sleep.”
“That’s not me, pal, that’s you!” The words flew from
her mouth as a joke, but the realism of them hit her. “I’m
sorry.”
“If you’re going to protect me for the rest of my life
against my own feelings, it’s going to irritate me.” He
moved to her and touched her cheek.
There was a positive statement there. “I want to protect
you for the rest of our lives,” she added softly.
“I’m fine.” He brushed her lips with his. “Now, what
time is your appointment tomorrow?” He kept his mouth
hovered over hers.
“Eleven,” she said on a sigh.
“Good.” He scooped her up into his arms, cradling her
against him. “What room?” he asked as he began carrying
her toward the motel.
She laughed. “Put me down,” she protested, but then
nuzzled her lips into his neck. “Room one forty-seven.”
“Put the key in,” he instructed with urgency as he held
her.
She aimed the card toward the door her lips still
wandering a path against his neck. She slid it into the
reader and sighed when the light turned green. She reached
for the knob and twisted as Thomas kicked the door open
with his foot.
“Ha! King-size bed. I knew you’d never sleep in a
separate bed.” With an approving nod, he laid her gently on
the bed and lowered himself to her.
“What about the suitcases?” She was breathless
beneath him as he lingered kisses on her neck.
“I’ll get them when I’m done.”
“Done with what?”
“You.” He began to unbutton her blouse and started a
trail of kisses down her body.

Carissa felt the chill off the lake blow through the
buildings of Chicago as they walked out of the restaurant.
Her head still spun from Thomas’s kisses and touches from
that afternoon and they’d followed their lovemaking with
pizza. She couldn’t think of a better day.

She rested her gloved hands on her stomach and grunted.
“You had four slices of pizza. Chicago-style pizza isn’t
exactly a small meal.”
“I’m happy. I’m so very happy.” She wrapped herself
around his arm as they walked toward the car. “Is it pretty
here in the summer?”
“Yeah, it is. The lake is particularly nice with all the
boats and people.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Maybe this summer we can come back and go out on
it.” He opened the passenger door for her.
“Go out on the lake? Really?”
“Yeah. I still have a friend or two in the area. Roberto
owns three sailboats. He’d be happy to let me borrow one
I’m sure.”
“You can sail?” Her eyes were open wide with the
information. He was opening up.
“Yeah, I can sail.” He smiled down at her as he shut
the door and climbed in behind the wheel. “So now what do
you want to do?”
Carissa turned fully to him in the darkness of the car.
“I want to go back to the motel and do what we did all
afternoon.”
Thomas rested his head against hers. His eyes closed
and she felt him breathe her in. “You’re not tired of making
love to me?”
“I don’t see that
ever
happening.”

He only nodded as he started the car. Well, he wasn’t
sure about all that. Sooner or later things were bound to go
awry. He’d yet to see a relationship withstand the word
love.
Even Sophia and David had thrown in the towel at
one point. Carissa deserved to be in love with someone
who wasn’t as pessimistic as he was. He wanted be with
her. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, but
what he had to offer emotionally was nothing. If it were
possible to have learned to give himself to someone, he
thought he would have by now. Until she decided he wasn’t
worth the time to love, he’d keep her close. He enjoyed the
feeling of being wanted and desired, even if it wasn’t going
to last. He enjoyed everything about Carissa.

Carissa woke as the sun edged in through the motel’s
dark curtains. She squinted against its glare and turned
toward Thomas. He was up and out of bed already. She let
out a sigh.

She ran her hand over the sheets. They were cold. She
listened but didn’t hear him moving about the room. The
realization that she was completely alone in the hotel room
had her sitting straight up in bed. He’d left her. Oh, God,
he’d left her alone in Chicago. She’d thought he was
opening up and beginning to love her, but instead he’d run.

She jumped from the bed and fell over the pile of
clothes they’d tossed in the floor in their mad rage to get
into the bed the night before. She pulled the sheet from the
bed and wrapped it around her. The beating of her heart
pounded in her ears.

When the door opened behind her she caught her
breath as Thomas entered the room. Her heart raced at a
frightening pace and her lips quivered.

Thomas’s eyes opened wide when he looked at her.
“Are you okay?” He dropped the bag he carried and set
a cardboard tray of coffee on the small table before
reaching for her.
“I thought you left. I thought you’d run from me. I
thought . . .”
“I told you. No more running.” His hand was holding
the base of her neck and he’d wrapped the other around her.
“Honey, I’m here.”
“But maybe you’d had another nightmare and run out
of the room. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to be with
me. Maybe you’d realized I’m more trouble than you
thought. Anywhere is better than with me.” She fell against
his chest and he ran his hand over her hair.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I would never just abandon
you.” He held her tighter. “I did leave a note,” he offered
and she pulled her head back to look up at him.
“I’m sorry. I panicked. I didn’t even look for a note.”
“It’s all right. I just walked across the parking lot to the
doughnut shop and got us some sweets for breakfast and
some coffee.”
“Thank you.” She watched him pick up the bag he’d
dropped and set it on the table.
“Carissa, tell me why you would think I would go?”
“Everyone I ever loved left me. You’re next. You’re
going to figure it out, Thomas. You’re going to decide that
your life is better off without me in it.”
“I can’t think of anything further from the truth. My
life is certainly not better without you. Trust me.”
She swallowed the sob that had rushed to her throat.
“I’m just going to get some clothes on.”
“Do you have to? I rather enjoy dining with you
naked.” He raised his eyebrows playfully and she mustered
a smile.
“Later.” She turned to the suitcase, pulled out an outfit,
and locked herself in the bathroom. She lowered the toilet
cover and sat down. The sob that had caught in her throat
turned into tears stinging her eyes.
Love. It wasn’t an emotion she’d ever felt for anyone
before. She raised her hand to her chest. Her heart still
pounded.
She let out a breath and slowly got dressed. They had
to meet with the instrument company and then he’d asked
her to go with him to the cemetery. If the morning was
starting out as emotional as it was, it was bound to get even
worse.

They arrived at their meeting at exactly eleven. The
man that waited inside for them had almost fallen over
himself when he realized that Thomas was indeed
the
Thomas Samuel.

“I’m a great admirer of your work. I cannot tell you
how pleased I am to meet you.” He continued to shake his
hand.

“I really appreciate that.” Thomas gave a nod toward
Carissa. “And if you’re familiar with my work, I’m sure
you know of Carissa’s mother.”

DiAngelo. Sophia Burkhalter? She married a Kendal.”
“You are Sophia Burkhalter’s daughter?” The man’s
eyes lit up.
Carissa smiled. “Yes.”
He clasped his hands together.
Carissa watched Thomas work magic. She’d fully
intended to carry the meeting on her own, but the man was
infatuated with Thomas and she was no fool to see Thomas
knew how to work him. By the time they were done, they
had all the instruments Carissa had hoped to purchase and a
library of theory books that Thomas had insisted on—all
for less than she’d budgeted to spend. Trying to be all
business, she kept her excitement bottled until they pulled
away from the store.
“I can’t believe you were able to get him to drop the
prices.”
“All I did was ask.” Thomas grinned as he steered onto
the street.
“Well thank goodness you did. You saved us . . .”
“Two thousand and fifty-three dollars,” he said and she
laughed at his precise number.
“Yeah, that.” She lifted her hand to his, which lingered
on the gearshift column between them. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Then his face hardened and he turned
his attention back to the road, turning into a parking lot of a
small floral shop whose displays filled the window. “I’m
going to stop and buy some flowers.”
Carissa nodded. She climbed out of the car and took
his hand. She could feel his fingers tremble against hers.
She gave his hand a squeeze to let him know she supported
him.

Thomas appreciated the silence of the drive to the
cemetery. He didn’t know what to say if Carissa began to
ask questions. He slowed the car as they approached the
front gate. He pulled up to the information building and left
the vehicle. Carissa didn’t follow and he returned only a
moment later, handing her a slip of paper.

“The location of her plot. I told you, I’ve never been
here.” He slid on his sunglasses and tried to blink back
tears that were already forming in his eyes. His mouth had
gone dry and his palms wet. Being back in Chicago was
hard enough. This might prove impossible.

He maneuvered through the cemetery as if he were
looking for a house in a small town. She pointed out the
sign that marked Avenue A and he started down the small
tree-lined road.

Thomas pulled the car to the side of the road, cut the
engine, and sat quietly looking out over the sea of
headstones. One of them was his sister’s. The image of the
last time he’d seen her flashed through his mind. The happy
moments they’d had sitting at the piano laughing blurred
with the memory of his father chasing his sister and the fear
in her eyes.

There was a pain in his chest. His first thought was to
retreat, but then that was what he’d done when he’d left the
hospital and run from his family. He watched as Carissa’s
hand moved from her lap and reached for him. He took a
deep breath and kissed her fingers.

“Let’s go.”
“Are you sure?”
This time he only nodded as he opened the door and

stepped out onto the cold gravel road.
Her grave marker was small. It seemed appropriate.
She was small. A mere child when she’d died.
Thomas brushed a tear from his cheek. Why hadn’t he
been there before? He’d always been there for his sister and
not only had he run from his life, but he’d run from her. He
laid the flowers he’d brought for her just above her name.
His stomach clutched. Carissa gave his hand a squeeze and
it reminded him he wasn’t alone.
“Thomas?” A woman’s soft voice carried on the cold
breeze that blew through cemetery.
He stiffened. Pursed his lips and looked forward.
Beside him, Carissa turned to look at the woman who had
called to him. Two sets of footsteps approached behind
him.
Carissa looked back at Thomas as the woman called
out to him again. Finally, he turned. A woman walked
toward him, a young girl at her side, their hands held
together. The woman began to sob.
“Oh, Thomas.” She released the young girl’s hand and
started toward him again, but stopped just short of
wrapping her arms around him. “Thomas . . .”
“Mom,” he said, but his voice broke.

Carissa’s gaze wandered between mother and son. She
could see the resemblance, and the trepidation, between
them. It was painful. Again, she squeezed Thomas’s hand,
and he looked down at her. There was fear in his eyes.

“You’ve come to see your sister?” The woman who
stood before them seemed to be searching for words. She
had to be searching for a connection with the son she’d lost
on the night she lost her daughter.

“I’ve never been here,” he admitted.
“Oh, Thomas. I have missed you.” Tears streamed
down the woman’s face and Carissa could see her wanting

Carissa nudged him closer, but at that same moment,
the girl who had been walking with his mother moved next
to her and took her hand.

“I’m okay, honey. I’m okay.” She patted the young
girl’s hand.
The girl, who Carissa supposed was about eleven,
looked up at Thomas. She felt him shift his weight. She
knew he’d seen the resemblance. The eyes of the girl
matched Thomas’s and his mother’s.
“Thomas, this is Madison.” She shifted her eyes back
to his. “She’s your sister.”

He felt the breath rush out of his lungs. He’d known
she was his sister from the moment he had seen her. Eerily,
she was the spitting image of Sarah.

“I divorced him while he was in prison. He committed
suicide the year after you left.”
He needed to sit down, but there was no seat.
His mother wiped at her tears. “I couldn’t be with a
man who cost me both of my children. Oh, Thomas. Why
did you leave me? How could you have left me?” Her body
shook with her words.
He watched. He ached. He wanted to run. Instead he
reached for his mother and gathered her in his arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He held her against his
chest.
Her tears soaked into his jacket. He breathed in her
scent, he whisked back to when she’d hold him, and his
tears would soak into her blouse. He remembered the night
Sarah had died. His blood soaked into her blouse as well.
They stood in the cemetery. The air had cooled around
them, but they held tight to one another.