Forever (25 page)

On his way home from a horrible day at work, Tom vowed to shake that off and be civil to Julie the last few hours they’d probably ever spend in the same house. But the minute he turned into their cul de sac he saw Patricia’s car—in the middle of the driveway, blocking his access to the garage. She and Julie were standing beside the car, laughing together. At the sight of them, his anger shot to full force. He parked at the curb, slamming the truck door behind him, and strode straight into the house without a glance at either of them.

Julie’s largest suitcase sat at the bottom of the steps, in the front hall. Lindsay was upstairs in her room, apparently talking on the phone. He’d just set foot on the bottom step when Julie walked in the front door.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t get home before I had to leave,” she said.

“You’re leaving right now?” He turned to face her.

“I told you our flight—”

“No. You didn’t.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “I don’t want to leave with you angry, Tom.”

“Well, you can’t disappoint
Patricia
.”

“Tom . . . ”

The plea in her voice made him want to take her in his arms and beg her not to go to California, and the way she lowered her lashes and looked away quickly, made him think she would gladly stay if he asked. But a silence, almost visible, stood between them.

“Well,” she said finally, “I’d better go.” She pulled up the handle of her roller case.

“Julie, please—” She looked up at him, and he swore he could feel her hopeful expectation. The words of his heart ran for his lips but were tagged out when Patricia stepped up to the open door. He sighed. “Don’t forget to call when you get there. Lindsay will worry, if you don’t.”

“Yes . . . I will.” She hesitated for a moment before turning toward Patricia.

“Have a nice trip,” he said in a voice edged with ice.

What was the matter with him? Why weren’t they talking about this ugly, black and rotten thing between them? Last night he listed reasons why his marriage was doomed to failure. But a part of him—the deepest, most sincere part of him—believed the bond between them was a good thing, a strong thing. And yet, Julie was going to walk out that door, and he couldn’t bring himself to utter one word to stop her.

(Why?)

I don’t know
.

He’d lost control of his life. He was two different people—and he wasn’t counting the one who dressed in buckskin. When the door closed behind Julie, he continued up the stairs. He shook like a naked man in the Arctic. He undressed and stepped into the shower, adjusting the water as hot as he could stand. Turning his back to the spray, he braced his hands against the tiles and let go. The salt of his tears stung worse than the scalding shower. His diaphragm convulsed with sobs.

Sometime later, when he wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror, he half expected to see both the faces he wore now. Only the haggard face of the louse he’d become stared back at him.

During dinner, Lindsay tried hard to keep a cheery conversation going, but Tom responded in monosyllables when he responded at all. After they cleared the table and cleaned up the kitchen, Lindsay escaped the obvious tension by driving off in a carload of her friends. Tom sat stone-faced in front of the TV, flipping through the channels, not really watching anything. Exhausted from the stress of the day, his eyes grew heavy.

Her skin felt almost feverish beneath his fingers as he trailed them lightly from her throat to her breast. The warm scent of her passion mingled with the scents of the woods around them. She felt so small, so fragile beneath him. He braced himself on a forearm as he lifted her thigh to rest against his hip. Her gasp in his ear, as he guided himself into her, radiated a thrill through his loins. Undulating in languid rhythm, he was conscious only of the growing tension in that red-hot area of his body. Finally he cried out in release and collapsed beside her, showering grateful kisses on her neck, her lips, her glorious auburn hair—

Tom jerked upright in his chair, breathing hard and drenched in sweat. In horror, he realized he’d just dreamed of making love to
Kate
. He jumped up in an effort to shake off the dream, and stumbled into the kitchen. As he bent over the sink, gulping cold water straight from the tap, the details of the dream came back to him.

Yes, the woman had red hair, but it was darker than Kate’s. He replayed the dream in his mind. An icy finger ran down his spine as it dawned on him that he’d seen that same red hair before—in the visions.
He
was not the man in the dream . . . Jacob was.

“Goddammit,” he muttered into the dark kitchen, “now I’m having wet dreams for the son of a bitch!”

He punched the power button on the TV as he walked by on his way upstairs. He undressed in the dark and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Guilt stabbed him at the sight of his brush and toothpaste laid out for him as Julie had done every night of their marriage. God, what a jerk he was. Knowing how nervous flying made her, he’d sent her off with nothing but a smart-ass comment. He was beyond counting the strikes against himself.

* * *

Eddie and Patricia had chattered with excitement all the way to the airport, through the check-in and security lines, and while they waited to board the plane. Now as they located their seats—Eddie always flew first class—Julie’s nerves were stretched as tight as the smile on her face. Their incessant cheerfulness was at least in part for her benefit, so she felt obligated to play along, but her heart was not in it. Her heart was back home.

Since there were three of them, Julie assumed Eddie and Patricia would sit together and she’d be paired with a stranger, but as she took her window seat, Eddie settled himself next to her. Julie glanced across the aisle where Patricia was buckling herself in.

“Oh,” Julie said and started to rise. “I’m sorry. I’ll trade seats with Patricia.”

“Stay right here.” Eddie grasped her arm, pulling her back down. “This will give us a chance to talk.”

Julie fastened her seat belt. Talking to Eddie was the last thing she felt like doing. Why had she let him persuade her to come on this trip?

“Now, Julie, I know you’re going to feel this is none of my business, but I think it’s time you faced the facts about your marriage.”

* * *

Annie had cooked for Kate the meal she’d planned to make for Tom. She hadn’t heard a word from him in almost forty-eight hours. As she crumbled feta cheese into the salad, she felt the now familiar sensation in her head signaling she was not alone.

“Hello, Maggie. Did you dream about cooking for Jacob while you slaved for Elihu Bennett?”

“Does she answer you?” Kate laughed at the sight of a startled Annie flinging a Kalamata olive across the room.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Annie retrieved the olive and tossed it in the trash. “These imported organic things aren’t cheap.”

“Well,
does
she answer you?”

“Not audibly, but I’m learning to listen inside.”

Kate glanced warily around the room. “You don’t see her here in the kitchen right now, do you?”

“I don’t see her in a physical form. She’s a part of me, I told you that.”

“Just checking,” Kate said. “Is supper ready? I have something to tell you that will make you freak.”

Annie handed the salad bowl to Kate and started dishing out the moussaka. “Freak how . . . good or bad?”

“Good. Guess who came into the salon today?”

Annie sighed. “I have no idea.” She carried their plates to the table and took her seat opposite Kate. “Just tell me.”

“You’re no fun. It was Tom’s wife . . . and a friend.”

Annie froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Did she
tell
you who she was?”

“I recognized her. Remember? I saw her at Delvecchio’s.”

Annie laid the fork back on her plate and sat back in her chair. “She didn’t recognize you though?”

“How could she? She doesn’t even know about
you
.”

“How do you know—”

Kate waved her hand impatiently. “That doesn’t matter, just take my word for it. I’m trying to tell you that Julie—that’s her name—is going to California.”

Her sister smiled triumphantly while Annie caught the breath Kate’s news had stolen from her. “Tom’s moving to California?”

“
Ohmygawd
, you practically
broad
jump to conclusions, don’t you? I’m talking about
Julie
, and I never said she was
moving
there. She and her friend are taking a trip there, soon evidently, and she just told Tom about it last night.”

“You heard them say this?”

“Yeah, and Julie told her friend—Patricia, she called her—that Tom was so upset he left the house and didn’t come back for hours. Wait,” she said when Annie started to comment, “Patricia was furious with Julie for not having the guts to tell him something
more
.”

“Tell him
what
?” Annie asked when Kate had paused to take another bite.

“Well,” Kate said thoughtfully, “neither of them actually said what the other thing was, but it was clear that it was more important than the trip to California. And Sherry and I—”

“Damn it, Kate, get to the point!”

“Whoa, don’t hate on the messenger.” Kate speared another piece of romaine, but she set her fork down when Annie glared at her. “Okay okay. Well, Sherry and I both got the impression that Julie’s getting ready to ask Tom for a divorce.”

Annie swallowed hard; trying to keep down the one bite of food she’d eaten. “Oh God. Then she
must
know about me. If she wants a divorce, it has to be because she knows about Tom and me. He’ll end up blaming me and—”

“Annie! Get a grip. I’m telling you she doesn’t know about you and Tom. They have a much bigger problem with their marriage than that.”

She gave Kate her full attention. “What did she say? What bigger problem?”

“She didn’t actually say—just wait a minute,” she added when Annie rolled her eyes. “Remember, last night, when you asked me why I said at Delvecchio’s that Tom and his wife weren’t happily married?” She waited for Annie’s nod before continuing. “Well, I wasn’t sure exactly why then, but now I am. Patricia is nagging Julie to tell Tom that they’re having an affair.”

Deep furrows creased Annie’s forehead as she tried to make sense of Kate’s words. “Patricia and Tom are having an affair? That makes absolutely no—” A second later, her eyes grew wide.

“You got it straight now, big sister?”

“Eddie . . .”

“What? Who’s Eddie?”

“Tom’s friend. He told me about Julie and Patricia, but I . . . I believed him when he said it, but later . . .”

“Well, that’s two of us saying the same thing. So you don’t have to worry about Julie and Tom getting back together. As soon as she tells him she’s gone lez, he’ll be running to you.”

“That’s what Eddie said.”

“There you go. Just wait. Let Tom—”

“Shut up!” Annie started shaking violently.

“Annie? What’s going—”

“You
always
do this. I’m not crazy.
You
are.”

Kate sat speechless for several seconds. “What are you talking about? No one said you were crazy.” She stood and started around the table toward Annie. “Are you all right?”

Annie bolted from her chair and backed away. “You have an over-active imagination. You make up stuff in your head and then believe it’s real. Well, it’s not real, and I don’t believe a word of it.”

Tears glistened in Kate’s eyes. “Sissy, please—”

Annie clamped her hands over her ears and screamed, “Shut-up! Just shut-up. I’m not listening to you anymore.”

June 20

T
om was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and drinking his third cup of coffee when Lindsay stumbled bleary-eyed down the stairs. She stepped behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Happy Father’s Day.”

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“You’re welcome.” Lindsay kissed the top of his head. “And since I’m your only child, you’re obligated to spend today with me . . . doing whatever I want.”

“That sounds more like Daughter’s Day rules to me,” he said, smiling, “but I’m game.”

“Well, as soon as I can wake myself up and get ready, I’ll take you out to lunch.” She started toward the coffee maker. “Oh, and I’ll drive, so you can just sit back and relax.”

Feigning horror, Tom slapped a hand to his chest and spoke with a quaver in his voice. “
You’re
driving and you expect me to
relax
?”

Lindsay responded with a what-am-I-gonna-do-with-you sigh, but she grinned. She filled her mug and carried it back upstairs.

Pretty soon
,
she’ll be gone most of the year
. He felt lonely already. But today, he’d try his best to put all the gloom and doom aside and enjoy their time together. If Julie divorced him—not if, when—Lindsay would learn the reason why and never feel the same about him again. He might never get another Father’s Day kiss. He supposed, sooner or later, even the most loving of daughters learned that her father was only human, but Lindsay would have to learn worse. Her father was a selfish bastard.

His work required planning ahead; that was a skill he’d honed long ago. Why hadn’t that business skill operated in his personal life two weeks ago? He pushed his cup and the paper aside. He rested his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. Now that misery was his future, he couldn’t bear to plan ahead.

“
Goddammit
,” he muttered. “I never wanted this.”

He thought hard about it, but he couldn’t quite figure out how he’d ended up here. He couldn’t connect all the dots. He’d thought this fiasco began with that first vision at the theater, but he realized, now, that he’d felt haunted before that. Haunted by Jacob? It wasn’t possible for a ghost to hijack your life. Was it?

* * *

With Tom gripping the armrest and jamming his braking foot against the passenger-side floorboard every few minutes, Lindsay drove them downtown to lunch at the Palomino. Lindsay nibbled, Tom ate his own meal and finished hers. Then they crossed the street to shop at the Circle Centre Mall. For the second time, Tom reflected that the day was more a treat for her than for him, but he said nothing because he was happy to be with her.