Now & Forever 3 - Blind love (2 page)

Now on leave from Vaal University in South Africa, Peter was
in Willow Falls to teach the Survey of Western Art course Marcia Wilton had
taught before going on a year’s sabbatical.

Sam had retired from teaching at Vaal. He’d come to meet
Mac’s new family. Callie hoped he’d stay in Willow Falls and live nearby. Since
losing her parents at sixteen, Callie had attempted to build a happy family.
She hoped Sam and Peter would be new additions.

While the men carted luggage into the house, Callie took a
long look at Peter. He was even more breathtakingly handsome than Mac. Peter’s nose
was perfect, his naturally blond hair was straight, thick and slightly long,
his lips had the right shape and fullness. She smiled. Kissable but masculine. Just
like Mac. His shoulders were broad, his arms muscular and his hands square with
long, slender fingers. Callie preferred Mac but she was surprised by Peter’s
looks.
He’s thirty-four years old and
never married?
Surely it must be his
choice.

When they walked into the house, Peter went straight to the
piano in the living room.

“A Woodruff upright! Thanks, Mac.”

“It wasn’t easy to find a house with a piano. We expect music
in this place.”

Peter sat right down at the piano situated against the wall
by the window and did a few arpeggios to see if the old instrument was still in
tune.

“How is it?” Sam asked him.

“It’ll do just fine,” Peter said.

Jason and Kitty entered the room when they heard the music.
Peter began singing. Jason ran to the piano and slid onto the bench next to
Peter and clapped along. Kitty, hesitated at the door, looking for her mother.
Callie nodded to the shy child and the little girl slowly wandered closer to
the music, stopping half-hidden behind a potted plant to listen to the song. Callie
wandered in with Mac, who put his arm around her shoulders. She slipped her arm
around his waist as he bent down and kissed her when no one was looking.

“I could sit here and play all day, but we better get
unpacked.”

Peter got up with Jason to move the suitcases into the
bedrooms, then they returned to open boxes stacked in the living room. Shy
four-year-old Kitty stuck close to her mother, but she was caught flirting with
Peter once or twice, which made everyone smile.

“Cradle robber!” Mac laughed at his brother.

“Now the mother…” Peter said, raising his eyebrows and
looking at Callie.

Mac stopped, brows knitted, a frown on his face as he shot
Peter a hostile look.

“Don’t go there. My wife is off-limits.”

“Possessive aren’t you?”

“And jealous too, and I like him that way,” Callie said,
giving Mac a kiss.

“Dad and I are going to take the kids for ice cream. Do you
want to come, Callie?” Mac asked, shepherding Kitty and Jason toward the door.

“I’ll stay here and help Peter get set up,” she said, opening
a box.

* * * *

Mac walked around to the driver’s side of the car and patted
his pockets, no keys. He remembered last seeing them on the front hall table.
He tip-toed quietly into the foyer so Callie wouldn’t know he’d forgotten them.
He stopped when he heard the soft purr of Peter’s voice. Mac inched his way to
the arch leading to the living room and peered into the room, moving back to
remain unseen.

“You’ve been married awhile, Callie. Isn’t it time you took a
lover?” Peter asked, sidling up to her.

Mac held his breath but couldn’t stop watching.

“Oh, but I have a lover, Peter,” she said, holding his gaze.

Mac froze. His stomach knotted.

“You do?” The surprise caused his voice to rise an octave.

“He absolutely sizzles.” Beads of sweat formed on Mac’s
forehead.

“Does Mac know?” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t think so.” She turned away from Peter and Mac could
no longer see her face.

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me who it is,” he asked, leaning
toward her.

Callie whirled around to face him, a broad grin on her face.

“It’s Mac. He’s hot, Peter. So hot…I couldn’t possibly,
wouldn’t ever need anyone else. Your brother is an absolute pistol in the
bedroom.”

Mac’s cheeks puffed up. He quietly emitted a silent sigh of
relief and smiled.

Peter laughed loudly.

“You passed the Peter Caldwell Loyalty Test with flying
colors.” Peter walked over to an open box needing unpacking.

“You know what I could use?” Callie put her hand on his arm.

“What?” He reached into a box then stopped.

“A brother. I don’t have one of those,” she said, blinking
back tears.

Peter hugged her.

“You’ve got one now,” he whispered.

Mac slipped out the front door and returned to the car to
find Jason and Kitty pelting Sam with questions.

“Grandpa, do you eat hot dogs in South Africa?” Jason asked
him.

“Grampa, do you eat…ice cream?” Kitty asked, imitating her
brother.

“Grandpa, do they have lakes in South Africa?”

“Grampa, look, I have a boo boo,” Kitty said, sticking her
hand out.

Sam was laughing as the children fought for his attention.

“Okay, enough,” Mac said, “Five minutes of quiet time.”

The children quieted down and sat back. Sam shot his son a
look of admiration.

“They listen…impressive.”

“I’m as surprised as you.”

Mac put the car in gear and backed out of the driveway.

* * * *

Rex Vesson, a burly man in a sleeveless T-shirt that showed
off his muscles and tight jeans carried his small suitcase the four blocks from
the train station to a small, neat house with a well-kept yard. He was sweating
from walking in the warm May sun when he finally reached his cousin Alan’s
small house. He took a deep breath of the fresh country air and let it out.
Relief washed over him to be out of New York City and safe in Willow Falls.

Alan answered Rex’s knock with a cool glass of iced tea.

“Hey, Alan. Long time, no see.”

“Come on in. You only have one suitcase?” Alan stepped aside.

“I…uh…left too quickly to pack much. Spur of the moment, you
know? Besides, clothes and crap I can buy here, right?” He entered the house.

“Don’t lie, Rex. You’re running away.” Alan closed the door
behind Rex.

“What?”

“Come on. I don’t give a damn, but at least be honest about
it.” Alan shrugged.

“There were reasons why I left when I did.” Rex licked his
dry lips and stared at Alan’s iced tea.

“I’ll bet. Whose wife were you screwing?”

Rex laughed.

“Nothing like that. I’ve got a new business.”

“Lucrative?” Alan raised his eyebrows.

“I do all right. I worked in security at The Hideaway. It’s a
nightclub in Harlem. Pretty exclusive.”

“Exclusive and they employed you?” Alan sat on the sofa and
crossed his legs.

“Very funny. Yeah, they employed me.”

“You were a bouncer?”

“Yeah, so?” Rex sank into a comfortable chair.

“Doesn’t pay much, does it?”

“It does when you watch famous people coming in there with
women who aren’t their wives. It pays even more when it’s famous guys, ball players,
politicians, coming in with other guys.” Rex smirked.

“Isn’t the club public?”

“Not every room. Even the so-called public rooms, you need
pull to get in.”

“So you’re a blackmailer too?” Alan sipped his iced tea.

“Hey, Alan, I’m thirsty. Got any more iced tea?” Rex asked.

“Sure, sure. A long thirsty train ride, one step ahead of a
lot of important, pissed off people. I guess you did need to get out of town.”

“It pays good, though.”

“I’ll bet it does.” Alan returned from the kitchen with a
tall glass of iced tea and handed it to Rex. Rex took a big gulp before
continuing.

“Meaning I can pay you rent, Alan.”

“How long do you plan to stay?” Alan settled into a
comfortable chair and sipped his tea.

“It depends on how good business goes here. This is a pretty
small town. Can’t be too much going on here, if you know what I mean.”

“You might be wrong. For a blackmailer there are secrets
everywhere.”

“True. This might work. Its never-ending money no matter
where you live,” Rex said and laughed.

“Don’t get any ideas about blackmailing me, okay?” Alan said,
nervously.

“You doing something I should know about?” Rex asked, his
interest piqued.

“I lead a quiet, academic life.” Alan shook his head.

Rex looked at Alan’s face with new interest. Alan was
definitely hiding something.

“Where’s Beth?” Rex asked, his eyes searching the room.

“She took off with a grad student about three years ago.”

“Too bad. Or are you a busy bachelor?”

“I don’t date much. Not many women here I’d be interested
in.”

“Where does a bachelor go here to get some action?” Rex
asked.

“The local strip club, The Wet Tee Shirt might be a place to
start.”

“Ever been there?”

“A couple of times.” Alan coughed.

“Can you get laid there? Chicks got good bodies there?”

“They’re okay.”

“Only okay? What…you into guys now?” Rex asked, raising his
eyebrows.

* * * *

“No, no, after a while, they all look the same.” Alan crossed
his legs.

Alan did fine getting laid. Pressuring failing female
students to sleep with him for a good grade worked. Maybe he was into a type of
blackmail. He provided a service for payment.
Tit for tat
, he laughed to himself. He was a merchant of grades,
with no income tax to pay on his gross receipts.

“Hey, Alan, they
are
all the same. Topless joint might be a good place for me to work.”

“It’s the closest thing we have to a nightclub here.”

“Come on. Let’s eat, on me. Maybe afterward, we can swing by
this joint and check out the babes,” Rex said, clapping him on the back.

“Sure, Rex.” Alan looked at Rex’s pumped up body and a wave
of envy swept over him, the first time he ever felt jealousy instead of pity
toward his cousin.

Rex had been a scrawny, awkward kid, not good in school and
couldn’t fight, which got him beat up regularly after school. His father took
off when his mother gave birth to him, leaving his two older sisters holding
him responsible for their father’s departure and hating him for it. His mother
was too tired to have much time or affection left for him.

* * * *

Across town on North Main Street

Marcia Wilton approached the steps of Willow Falls Medical
Center. Her tired eyes noticed the cheerful colors of the spring flowers in
window boxes. She walked up the steps of the large brick building slowly. Her
husband, Jay, was back in the hospital. He had been fighting cancer for five
years and now was losing the battle. Marcia went every day. The pain of seeing
her handsome, athletic husband wasting away was intense.

The doctor told her he thought Jay would last six months, so
Marcia had taken a sabbatical from her position teaching art history at
Kensington State to be with him.

“It’s spring outside,” Marcia said, walking into his room to
find him standing at the window.

Jay trained his gaze on her and offered a wan smile.

“Any flowers up yet?”

“Tulips. Don’t know what’s coming up at the new house.”

Marcia and Jay had been married for nine years. They’d waited
to have children, but by the time Marcia was thirty-three and ready, Jay was
stricken with stomach cancer and neither he nor Marcia could think about
anything else. They pooled their strength and fought the disease with
everything possible. Two remissions, then the cancer returned and spread. Jay
was brave, stoic at times, but now he was resigned.

“You didn’t eat?”

“Nothing tastes good.” Jay shifted his weight from one hip to
the other.

“I brought corned beef today. Try some.” Marcia held half a
sandwich out to him.

He took three bites and stopped. Fifteen minutes later, Jay
dozed off.

Marcia took a bite of the sandwich but could barely swallow
it. She took out a crochet project and began work. She often crocheted or read
when he slept.

Occasionally she brought a special treat from the Jewish
Bakery to tempt him to eat. They would share it and reminisce about the last
time they ate chocolate babka. Often there’d be procedures, baths and other
events cutting her time short. It didn’t matter if she left early because there
was nothing waiting for her at home.

Their families rallied around them at first, but year after
year of hope then despair, hope then despair wore them out. Now at
thirty-eight, Marcia had no children to provide comfort, and her family, who
lived far away, had gotten on with their lives.

Jay’s mother found it devastating to visit him, but she made
the two-hour bus trip once every week anyway. His brother and sister lived on
the west coast, too far away to visit.
Death
frightens people
, Marcia reminded herself when she felt angry and deserted.

After an hour, Marcia packed up her project, kissed Jay’s
forehead and left him sleeping fitfully. The tap-tap-tapping of her heels on
the hospital corridor echoed her feeling of loneliness as she made her way to
the front door.

The bright sunshine mocked her heavy heart as she got in her
car and drove almost by rote to the small house on First Street she and Jay had
rented for the past three years. They had owned a lovely big house on Fillmore
Street in the posh Linden Lake section, when Jay was well and working as the
head accountant for Valley Country Club and Resort. But Jay hadn’t worked in
the past three years. He was on disability, which didn’t bring in enough money,
even with Marcia’s teaching, to keep the big house. Marcia made only enough
money in her job at the university to pay the rent on the small house.