EXcapades (14 page)

A moment later, she spun around to leave.
And with heart-wrenching sorrow, I watched her walk to her car. Jenny slid into the front seat, closed the door, and waved good-bye. She glanced in the rearview mirror for one last look in my direction. An instant later, she drove out of the driveway, to travel back to Chapel Hill.

I stepped into the silent house.
Once safely inside, I jerked forward, sobbing. My body trembling, my throat began to constrict, and I spread my hands across my face, wiping the tears. The long shadow cast by this disease was taking its toll on my emotions.

Although I felt like I was being pulled into a sinkhole, I was determined to fight my way out. I looked at my reflection in the foyer mirror and studied myself with hopeful eyes.

And with lightning speed, I switched my emotions. It was time to ignore the bad scenarios and only focus on good things.
Some circumstances better help one appreciate what one has; that was for sure.
When life gives you a rainy day, play in the puddles. And playing with someone who keeps you laughing will make it that much better. Blake!

A few hours later, the telephone rang. It was my mother again. I let the call go to voicemail. When I retrieved my message, she was on the other end saying, “Dixie Elizabeth, this is your mother.” Oh my, I meant to call her as I had promised. Her message continued. “Jenny told me the news, dear. We’re sorry to hear about your suffering. I think a few months in Florida with us will help. This was your mother calling.” I sighed.
I love my parents and feel grateful they are in my life, but I think I’ll stay here.

Before I had time to reconsider, the doorbell rang. Standing on my front porch was Jane, looking unusually serious. I opened the door. She grabbed me, threw her arms around my shoulders, and squeezed so hard I had to pry myself free.

Jane wiped her eyes and gave a sympathetic smile. “Jenny just called and shared your news. I hope you’re not mad. She knew you wouldn’t tell me.”

“She was probably right,” I said.
And how could I be mad at people who cared enough to worry about me?

“Would you like to talk about your doctor’s appointment?” she asked.

“To be honest, I’m tired of crying. Let’s go have fun and play some tennis instead.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

“I think so; anyway, I have some nervous energy that I need to work out of my system.”

Without hesitation, Jane said, “Okay, I’ll meet you on the court in fifteen minutes.”

Our club consisted of a large, pillared brick building. The two-story structure overlooked the tennis courts. Along the back of the property was an Olympic-sized swimming pool. And next to it was a bathhouse.

When I arrived at the club, I saw Jane’s minivan parked in front. Her car was easy to spot with all the magnets that hugged her bumper. She was clearly proud of her honor students and her dog.

I stopped and greeted a few ladies from my supper club and headed toward the tennis gate. As I approached the first court, I saw Jane stretching.

“You’re going to need a bigger car soon. Those magnets are multiplying and taking over,” I said.

Laughter flickered in her eyes. “My kids keep getting me those. At first a few magnets were cute. But now it looks like I’m driving a big refrigerator.”

For the first time all day, I laughed. “I especially like the one that reads:
It doesn’t get any better than this
.”

Jane giggled. “Did you notice that I put that magnet on top of the dent in my car? If you peel it off, you will see silver duct tape.”

“I didn’t even see the dent. I’m going to make you one in the shape of a tennis racket that reads:
Game, set, match . . . don’t mess with my hatch
.”

“No, I don’t think I have anything to worry about,” she said. “No one’s going to bother that mom mobile. One glance inside the car and a thief would run away in disgust.”

“I remember those days. For such small people, kids sure have a lot of stuff,” I said, touching my toes.

“You got that right.” She lunged forward with her left leg and straightened her right.

“That would be fun to make humorous magnets.”

“You’re the artist. Can you make me one in the shape of a swimming pool that reads:
Game, set, match . . . if you look like Chase, come play with my snatch
?” She tossed her head back and laughed. “You know I’m joking, right?”

“I saw the way you were leering at him. I’m not so sure,” I teased.

“We better get on the court before I start daydreaming about having a pool of my own,” she said. She stopped stretching. “I’ll take the side with glare, if you serve first.”

“Sure, I’ll take the shaded side. Thanks.”

“Did I see you talking to Darla and Lacey from our supper club?” she asked, unzipping her tennis bag.

“Yes. It’s been a bit awkward to go to the dinners alone, but I haven’t been kicked out yet,” I said, walking onto the court.

“Nor will you. It’s not a requirement to bring a husband.”

“Maybe not, but I’m the only single person there.”

“Just because you’re divorced doesn’t mean you have to make new friends.” She slid on her visor. “Are you ready to play?”

“Let’s just hit back and forth first. I haven’t been out here in months.”

“You got it.”

Twenty minutes later, I wiped the sweat off my brow. “That’s it for me. You wore me out,” I said in a breathless voice.

As we stepped off the court, Jane said, “You did great. Let’s play again soon.”

“You were nice letting me win one game.” Just last year, she couldn’t get a game on me. I could play for hours. And now I was struggling to keep up with her.

“Don’t look up,” Jane said, glancing toward the balcony dining area full of people.

My smiled faded. “What are you talking about?”

She turned her attention back to me. “Trust me. Let’s just go.”

I quickly gathered my belongings and walked off the court. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of what upset Jane. Standing by the rail overlooking the courts, I saw her. It was a younger version of me, holding a baby.

I gasped. “When did Sabrina start coming to the club?” I lowered my voice. “She’s staring at us.”
Why is she staring? She has my husband.

“Let’s just keep walking,” Jane warned. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with that sight. I saw her here last week and hoped you’d never cross paths. I’m especially sorry you saw her today.”

I sighed. “Now I can’t even relax on the tennis court.”

“It’s not surprising that your no-good ex-husband couldn’t find a different club to join.”

“I’m going home to finish my art project,” I said, approaching our cars. “Thanks for kicking my bottom on the courts.”

“Let’s play again soon. And next time, it’s all you,” she said. “Please call me or stop by if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” I said, closing the car door and fighting the urge to look in Sabrina’s direction. Really, what’s the point of dwelling on the past? But still, the image of her baby stayed with me. I wondered if Sabrina knew just how much her baby looked like Jenny at that age.

The next morning, I woke up with a feeling of inexplicable hope and a plan of action. Numerous times I had heard of holistic medicine but had never taken an interest in it—until now. I planned to see a nutrition specialist for a vitamin therapy regimen. Maybe acupuncture would be part of the plan and an occasional massage. And sleep—lots of rest to help my body rejuvenate.

This plan of action probably wasn’t going to shrink the growing tumor, but why not try?

Before I could think of other options, the telephone rang, startling me. As I fumbled to answer, I saw that it was Blake.

“Hello,” I said excitedly. I could hear the faint sound of Usher’s song “OMG” in the background.

“I’m missing you,” he said. I could picture him dancing in his boxer briefs. I wanted to rub my hands down his ripped abs.

I sighed. “I know we talk on the phone every day. But I want to snuggle up to you.”

“For now, I’m counting the days and nights until I see you again. Four days to be exact. I’ll check in with you later,” he said.

“It can’t get here soon enough for me. In fact, I am having my imaginary way with you right now.”

“Take it easy on me in your fantasy.” Blake laughed. “Better yet, be rough with me. Bye, babe.”

“Good-bye.”

Finally, the day arrived, for Blake, to set foot in my door. And when he did, I gasped because that first sight of him always took my breath away. Call it love; call it infatuation or simply raw desire. Nonetheless, his presence made my heart flutter.

Blake rushed over. He gave me a bear hug as if we had been apart for months and boomed, “I missed you, baby.” He smiled brightly, filling me with cheer. I felt the excitement in the air.

He scanned the room and saw a framed photograph of us back in college, just before a formal party. He walked over, picked up the photograph, and stared at it without blinking. “Is that really us?” he asked.

“I was wondering if you would notice that picture. I found it the other day. I thought you would get a kick out of seeing it. Does it take you down memory lane?” I asked, all ears.

Blake turned to face me. “You bet, like I’m racing full speed in my old Camaro with sexy you sitting next to me. We’re relaxed and happy like we don’t have a care in the world. You remember how it used to be?”

“I sure do.”

“Well, I would like a copy of it when you get a chance,” he said, putting the picture back on the table. “You know I tore up all of our old photos and sent them to you after we broke up, along with your shocking letter.”

I had to look away after that comment. “Yes, I remember that day clearly.” I refrained from giving him an earful about how angry those shredded pictures made me. Instead, I said cheerfully, focusing on today, “I packed my camera to take some new pictures this weekend. To better days . . . I’m ready, if you are.”

Blake gave me a bright grin. “Let’s start this new adventure.”

Chapter 9

Blake grabbed my bag and put his other arm around me, and we walked to his light blue Corvette parked on the driveway. We were leaving for our next destination, the Appalachian Mountains. As Blake slid into the driver’s seat, I gushed, “I love your new car. But please don’t drive faster than our guardian angels can keep up.”

He nodded. “This car has an incredible amount of power, but I promise I won’t use it all today. And if I do get pulled over, apparently saying, ‘I thought you wanted to race,’ is not, I repeat,
not
a good way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

I laughed. “Now you’re making me a little apprehensive about this trip,” I said, closing my door.

Driving out of Raleigh, we lowered our windows so we could enjoy the crisp October air. The mountain forecast predicted unseasonably low temperatures and snow. I leaned my head back on the beige leather seat and thought about how wonderful it was to begin another adventure. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, Blake leaned over and caressed my leg.

Fortunately, we never ran out of conversation. A couple of hours into our trip, the Appalachian Mountains appeared to erupt from the landscape as we ascended the mountain highway. While journeying into the elevations, Blake reached for the control panel and turned on our heated seats.

Seeing the peaks hovering above us, from the crest of the first incline, reminded me how majestic nature can be in its varying forms. On this fall day, it was a true symphony of colors with vivid shades of red, yellow, orange, and green blending in harmony. The vantage point from this high elevation offered a sweeping spectacular panoramic view, and the rolling hills seemed to go on forever.

After talking effortlessly, like best friends, Blake cleared his throat nervously.

I glanced over. “Is everything all right?” I asked.

His jaw tensed. “You left me with so many words unspoken. I’m not sure if this is the right time to bring up the subject. But this question has tormented me for years,” he said.

My smile vanished. I shifted my weight in the seat, trying to feel more comfortable, but nothing worked.

I pressed the glass and felt the cold air seeping inside. Even with the cool air spilling into the car, I almost choked on the tension. We both knew this talk was inevitable, whether we liked it or not. A lot of questions had crossed our minds over the years. We needed to discuss the past because it was like a dark cloud looming over us.

I paused. “I guess we have some unfinished business to take care of, don’t we?” I asked. The trip was beginning to feel bittersweet.

Finally, Blake began to speak. “We were so much in love back then.” He looked at me with years of pent-up frustration visible on his strained face. “This question has always puzzled me. Why did you break up with me? I thought we were happy together. Were you angry about the scholarship?”

Suddenly, it was like being trapped in a heat wave. The tension was so thick that it altered my breathing rate.

I hesitated while trying to find the right words. “After I transferred, we were going to different colleges and had separate lives.”

“That’s true, Lila, but why the complete break from me?” He glanced over, and I could see the question in his eyes. “We could have stayed in each other’s lives. It would have taken more effort, but we could have done it.” Blake grimaced as if he tried not to let his words sound harsh or mean.

I looked at him curiously. “Maybe.”

He fumbled with the radio. It seemed like he was searching for a distraction. Finally, he shut it off. “You know, I was devastated. I missed you so much. You broke my heart. In fact, you were the only one . . . ever . . . to hurt me.”

“Looking at you now, Blake, I feel like I missed a lifetime of joy with you. In my mind, you’re the one who left me,” I said defensively. “You just didn’t realize it at the time. But I felt like you slipped away from me. It was too painful for me even to think about what you were doing with other girls when we weren’t together. And I heard stories of your shenanigans, plenty of them.”

“Really?” he asked. Blake pressed the tips of his lips together until they turned white as if holding in secrets. He looked at me quizzically, opened his mouth as if to say something else, and then closed it.

“It was difficult going to different schools.” He listened to me intently with a dismayed look. “The first couple years we were together were amazing. We had so much love and passion. But when I switched schools, everything changed between us.”

Blake sighed. “How?”

I paused briefly. “You know, for weeks, I felt like you were still my boyfriend, but I kept hearing stories of you and other girls. In the end, I thought it was easier
not
to
have you in my life at all than to deal with that pain.” I watched his face and tried to read what lay underneath but couldn’t. He bit his lower lip and stayed silent while I voiced my point of view. “And now you want to twist things around and make me feel like I’m the one to blame. Well, keep twisting back toward yourself, too. We were both players as our relationship—deteriorated.”

He snapped his face in my direction and looked almost too stunned to respond. A moment later, he turned forward and stared at the road. “What do you mean?”

I nervously continued, “At the end of our relationship, after I transferred, I felt like I didn’t even know you. You were rarely available to talk or see me. And all those stories I heard about you with other girls. I wasn’t sure what was true, but I’d had enough.”

Blake threw his hands up in frustration and then clutched the steering wheel. “Are you saying it was my fault? You know I always felt terrible about the accident. I replayed that scene a thousand times, each time wishing I caught your fingers when you slipped. I grind my teeth at night thinking about how stupid it was to have sex on that ledge. I’m sorry. I never wanted you to transfer.”

“We were reckless, but it was more than that.”

Blake rolled his eyes in frustration. “No matter what you thought at the time, I never betrayed your trust. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Those words flowed off his lips, but that didn’t make them true.

“Well, I’m here with you now. And I want to try again,” I said.

“The same goes for me. And I can’t do anything about what happened years ago, but I can show you the person I am now,” he said.

My voice softened to a whisper. “Believe it or not, I always loved you.” I surprised myself with my admission. I hadn’t expected to say those words.

And that silenced him completely. He looked at me with a twisted mixture of emotions. As if, at one time he would have given anything to hear those words, but now it made him feel angry and confused.

“How can you say that you loved me, when you didn’t give us a chance?” he asked.

“You became so distant that I stopped trying.”

He frowned. “Well, you had it all wrong.”

I stared at him. “It didn’t feel that way at the time.”

“You were the only girl for me.” His voice elevated. “I have only
really
loved one woman in my life. That woman, of course, is you.”

I looked at him in disbelief as I sat in stunned silence. None of this news occurred to me. Ever. Now, I didn’t know what to believe.

“Why? Why me?”

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye but did not turn his head. “I’m not exactly sure how to express my feelings. There’s just something about you that warms me up inside. You always could.”

At that exact moment, freezing rain began crashing onto the windshield. Blake clicked on the wipers, and clumps of wetness smeared across the glass. Our momentary silence was interrupted by the repetitive swish from the blades.

“I was devastated when you broke up with me,” Blake said and cleared his throat. “I felt sad and guilty because you lost your scholarship. It felt like my chest squeezed until a chunk of my heart broke off. Almost like an iceberg snapping off a glacier and jarring into the sea.”

I sat, startled by his admission. He must write some powerful short stories. The eloquence with which the words flowed out of him stunned me. I questioned the truth as I stared out the side window at the wet flurries surrounding us. The grass now had a dusting of flakes.

He didn’t stop. “And those shattered, broken fragments of my heart that remained were as cold as ice. My fractured heart sent nothing but chilly blood coursing through my body.” He turned and looked deep into my eyes. “I missed you beyond words.” As he spoke, I tried to size up his sincerity.

“Why didn’t you tell me years ago?” I asked, looking away and choking on my words.

Blake shrugged his broad shoulders, stared at the road, and sighed mournfully. “Well, I didn’t try to win you back because of my young, foolish ego. You broke up with me. I had too much pride to let you know how I really felt about you.”

I soaked in his words and searched for the real story. My heart ached at the thought of his pain from our breakup. But was it true? I swallowed hard. I really had no idea that I had even hurt him. I didn’t think he cared; after all, he shut me out after I switched schools. From my perspective, he cut me out of his life and became distant.

Blake glanced over and met my stare head-on. He looked back at the road. “I’m trying my best to let go of the frustration and the pain from the past. But my question is, can you? Can you meet me halfway?” he asked.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“Can we both put away the things that other people did to hurt us in the past? Including the hurt and pain we caused each other?” he asked.

“Everything revolves around trust,” I said.

“I think we can have something special together.” He went on, the words pouring out. “I feel like we have a second chance to see if this works for us.”

“Each sunrise brings another opportunity.” I laughed. “I must sound like an inspirational poster.”

“Maybe just a little bit. But today is a new day to get love right. I don’t want to put pressure on us. But I want you to know that I always felt like you were the one who got away. I always looked for
you
in the women I dated.” He glanced over and smiled. “Maybe this is our time in the universe!”

“You think our paths crossed again for a reason?”

He hesitated and when he did speak his voice cracked. “You hurt me in the past, but I want to look forward. Years ago, I tried to pretend you never existed so I could get on with my life. But I couldn’t simply remove your images from my mind. Young love is some powerful stuff.”

“I don’t think many people forget their first love or the way it hurt when it ended,” I said.

“We were just kids then,” Blake said. “We didn’t know any better, about any of it. We don’t have that excuse anymore. I know what I like at this point. I’ve seen a lot. And I know you are the best sight I’ve seen.”

Bewilderment must have flashed across my face, and it was replaced almost immediately with a look of remorse. I didn’t know what to believe.

For what began to feel like hours, he didn’t speak. His eyes didn’t blink, as if he were caught up in his memories. Finally, he said, “I did eventually move on. I married a woman I met in the service. We weren’t really compatible, but it felt right at the time. The marriage fell apart quickly. I have dated plenty over the years. But it was more about fun than love. I just stopped becoming emotionally involved because no one else captured my heart.”

He clicked the windshield wipers on medium, smearing the wet, sticky snow. Even though it was daytime, our car lights were beaming. We drove slowly, cautiously along the winding road. Trucks going in the opposite direction, however, did not slow down, spraying chunks of the wet slosh against the glass.

Taking in every word, I stared at Blake with my emotions in turmoil. My stomach twisted in knots. Hearing Blake talk about the other women in his life was very difficult for me; it might be tough for any woman. I hadn’t asked earlier because I didn’t want to know. I cringed and looked away.

There was no point in denying the stab of jealousy I felt at the thought of Blake touching other women. I knew there had been plenty in my absence.
He was mine at one point. Was I foolish for letting him go?

Now he had a lifetime of memories with other women. Could it have just been me all of this time?

I was not sure what to say to him. Finally, I repeated the words that swirled in my head whenever I looked at him. “I’m sorry. I wish I could get that time back. Maybe if we had talked more—other than me listening to my friends—it would’ve worked out between us. I was angry. Mostly, I was afraid of being hurt, so I hurt you instead.”

“And you have no idea how much it did.”

I studied Blake. “My words may seem hollow, but it’s the truth,” I said, trying my best not to display frustration now. I felt my cheeks heat. “It was immature to shut you out completely, without even a discussion about our relationship. I was a coward and broke up in a letter. That was the wrong behavior. I know that now. We should have at least talked about things. I didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself or have any closure.”

We drove for miles in silence. The freezing rain mixture from earlier had become large flakes. He flipped the wipers from medium to high. Finally, I broke in and said, “Maybe we both learned not to shut the other one out, if we want to make this work? I think we each have enough life lessons behind us that we can get through problems better than when we were younger.”