One Step Away (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 1) (21 page)

“Off-putting, huh?” Kelsey asked. “Until
now, I hadn’t considered you a snob.”

“Whoa, I’m many things: but a snob? No
way.”

“Then use a normal word, like—”

“Concerned? I’m concerned, okay. But why
does he want to be called Alex all of a sudden? There’s something
wrong.”

“Being a library director now, it makes
sense that he’s more direct and decisive. He has to be. The same
goes for you, now that you’ve moved up. So why are you
worried?”

“We always talked things through. We always
knew what the other was thinking. And now…”

A smile spread across Kelsey’s lips.

“What?”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking right now,
do you?”

“You’re thinking I’m crazy.”

“Actually, I’m thinking that I have cramps,
I feel bloated, and I shouldn’t be eating that pizza.”

“Which makes you want to eat it even
more.”

“Well, of course.”

“But why does he want to be called Alex? Did
he tell you the same thing?”

“No. I think he’s been avoiding me and Mom.
Not Dad, because they don’t talk much. Nothing to really talk
about, I guess, since they’re so different. I’ve called Alexander a
few times, but he just texted me back, apologizing for being busy.
He answered me, but he wasn’t really giving me the bonus features.
I don’t know what to think.”

From that response, Marisa presumed that
Alex hadn’t told her family about his recent big purchase. “Don’t
you think riding a Harley might be grounds for concern?”

Kelsey examined her with disbelief. She
grabbed a paper plate from Marisa and removed a slice of pizza from
the pan. “Yeah, right. Alexander on a Harley.”

“Maybe not Alexander. But Alex? Definitely.
He rode up behind me and fixed my tire. I couldn’t believe it. I
still can’t believe it. And I saw it. Can you see why I’m
worried?”

Kelsey stared at her intently, waiting for
the punch line. When it didn’t come, she said, “Alexander? On a
motorcycle? Fixing your tire?”

“Well, no, because doing both at the same
time would be difficult. But kind of funny…and pretty
dangerous.”

“Get the fuck outta here!”

“Well, I pay the mortgage, so if anybody
should leave…”

Kelsey dropped the pizza onto her plate.
“You’re serious?”

Finally! At least now Marisa knew that her
concerns weren’t the ruminations of a drama queen. “Do you think
he’s okay?”

“You reject him and he buys a Harley. What
do you think?” An instant later, she covered her mouth, realizing
that she hadn’t internalized those remarks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Marisa said in an
understanding tone. “He’s your older brother. He’s always looked
out for you, and you want to protect him. I get it. And it’s the
truth. At least the part about rejecting him. You have no idea how
bad it hurts me to know that…I hurt him.”

Kelsey blew out a big breath and massaged
her temples. “Dad doesn’t know anything about this. I guarantee it.
He’s always wanted Alexander to get a bike. He’d be freaking out
with happiness by now. And we’d never hear the end of it.”

“You think it’s a mid-life crisis
thing?”

“For a thirty-year-old? I’d call that an
almost quarter-life crisis. But no, I think it’s a
Marisa-rejected-me thing.”

Marisa felt bad enough about that, but
Kelsey didn’t have to rub it in to make her feel guilty. She felt
plenty of guilt already, but she couldn’t will herself to view Alex
in a new light. And she shouldn’t have to apologize, no matter how
good of a friend Kelsey might be.

“You had to know how he felt about you.”

Knowing how much Kelsey loved her brother,
Marisa tried to select her words with great care: “Well, I
suspected.”

Kelsey grabbed her slice of pizza, acting
coy. “Why
can’t
you think of him that way?” She took a bite,
but kept her gaze on the countertop, probably fearing that she had
crossed a line that she shouldn’t have.

“You know how women can separate different
aspects of themselves: mother, wife, career, and all that? It’s
like that. I think of Alex as my best, most trusted friend.” She
struggled to find the right way to describe her feelings. “But I
can’t—”

“Because he’d be a horrible husband:
abusive, uncaring, lying, cheating—”

“You know I don’t think that.”

“And if you two had children?” Kelsey went
on, anger making her words come quick. “He’d yell at those poor
kids. Or ignore them. Even worse, steal the allowance you gave them
each week and gamble it all away – if he wasn’t using it to buy
heroin from his crack fiend buddies.”

“Come on, I don’t think—”

“Your kids could forget about going out for
ice cream. No, Alex would take them into the inner city, hoping to
score some heroine, looking to show them the best things in life at
an early age.”

Marisa, feeling her guilt hitting a tipping
point, tried to put herself in Kelsey’s place to avoid lashing out
at her friend. Instead, Kelsey’s outburst made her start laughing.
Through squinty eyes, she saw her friend staring at her in wonder,
then she, too, started laughing. The tension between them drifted
away. When she calmed down, Marisa said, “I know Alex would be a
wonderful husband and father. I just—”

“He’s not a professional sports player or
lawyer or doctor or whatever. That must be it. He just doesn’t make
enough money. I guess being a librarian, even if he is a library
director, is an acceptable career for a woman, but
guybrarians
might as well be
gaybrarians
, right?
Working in a female-dominated profession?”

And just like that, Kelsey, who now
preferred drama to comedy, turned up the conflict factor higher
than before. On the verge of saying something she might regret,
Marisa limited her words: “I never said that. We should talk about
something else.” Satisfied with an effort to shift away from this
topic, she took a bite of pizza.

“No you wouldn’t say that he’s gay, but you
basically feel that way about him. He’s obviously hideous looking.
A real-life Frankenstein or Quasimodo. Walks with a hunched-over
limp. Grunts instead of speaks. And politeness? On the streets,
every time he cuts in front of some driver, he flicks them the bird
out his window. Hell, I’ve seen him knock elderly ladies into the
street just because they walked too slowly.”

The images Kelsey conjured made Marisa want
to laugh, but she fought the inclination to do so. “Now you’re just
being ridiculous.” But she realized that the way Kelsey continued
to elevate each exaggeration laced with harsh insinuations made
Marisa feel like she had poor judgment and needed to defend
herself, notching her temper level way beyond what it should have
been. She gritted her teeth to prevent saying something she might
regret.

“You have shared the most intimate details
of your life with him, spent more time with him than you’ve ever
spent with any of your countless boyfriends, who by the way, are a
bunch of losers from everything you’ve told me about them – you
wouldn’t say it, so I’ll say it so you won’t have to.

Kelsey shook her head, agitated. “You waste
your time, energy, and love on people who never return it. And
Alexander, your best friend, who would do anything to make you
happy – sacrifices his feelings, his time, his everything – only to
make sure you live each day with a smile on your face. Yeah, I
would hate to find a man like that, too. So I totally get why you
prefer all of those worthless assholes. Because you trust them. You
know exactly who they are and how they’ll mistreat you, so you’ll
never be disappointed. But Alexander? He won’t let you down. And
that feels wrong to you, because it must be a lie.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk. You trust
everything any guy tells you. Have any of them fallen in love with
you? Gee, I wonder why? Maybe they realize that they can do
anything or say anything, and you’ll believe everything that comes
out of their mouths. You confide your deepest secrets on the first
date, for Christ’s sake. They don’t have to earn anything with you:
not your trust, not your time, and definitely not what’s between
your legs.”

“What, I’m a slut for trusting my heart? For
seeking the best in people? Did you ever think that maybe if you
believed in others more, they might actually live up to your
expectations? That they might care for you because you were more
trusting? And for your information, ever since you said that I tend
to…get intimate too soon, I haven’t had relations in a
very
long time. You see, I trust my friends. I trusted what you
said.”

“You’re not acting like a friend right
now.”

“I’m not attacking you.” Kelsey said,
tossing the plate of pizza onto the counter. She left the
kitchenette and headed for the exit. “I’m telling you the truth.
The truth you’re either too scared or too oblivious to
realize.”

“So insults aren’t an attack?”

“Not when they’re the truth.”

Marisa, following Kelsey towards the front
door, wanted to remind her friend of all her mistakes and
shortcomings. But she had already seemed to lose Alex, and she
couldn’t bear the thought of losing Kelsey too. She dug her
fingernails into her palms to create enough pain to offset the
criticism that she wanted to hurl at her friend. “I think you
better leave.”

“Already got that memo,” Kelsey said,
grabbing the doorknob. She opened it a crack but stood in place for
a long moment, her back to Marisa. She pulled the door open and
turned around, her anger subsiding, perhaps understanding that she,
too, didn’t want to lose a confidant. “I trust you.” Her eyes grew
glassy. “But why can’t you trust yourself? Why won’t you let
yourself be happy?” She waited a moment to let that sink in, then
spun around and walked out the door.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

On Monday morning, Alex arrived for work to
find an attractive blond in her early thirties wearing a red
sweater and a black skirt seated in one of the two chairs in the
waiting room. A brown leather notebook with a pen clipped to the
cover lay on her lap. Alex looked at his administrative assistant,
Greta. “I don’t recall making an appointment.”

Greta shook her head. “Local online
reporter. Gayle Hart. The Bedford Falls-Vista Heights Times. Here
to interview you about…new lending restrictions?” She narrowed her
gaze at Alex, an obvious sign of mistrust.

He turned his attention to the reporter.
“Alex Lawford. Pleased to meet you.”

Hart rose from her chair, took his hand, and
delivered a dazzling smile. “A pleasure. I’d like to hear a little
more about the lending restrictions that will be going into effect
within the next two weeks.”

Keeping his expression static to prevent
Greta from assuming the worst, he gestured towards his office down
the hall. “I guess I can spare a few minutes.”

“Wonderful.”

Alex led her into his office and closed the
door behind them. “Please have a seat,” he said, motioning to the
chairs in front of his desk. After she did so, he curved around the
desk and took a seat. “What’s this about lending restrictions?” He
doubted that anyone from Bedford Falls had contacted the press
about their new lending policy, and Alex didn’t want to lend
credence to what might be construed as hearsay.

She removed a tape recorder from her stylish
black and silver Coach purse. She hit the record button. “Yes, the
new lending policy that the Bedford Falls Public Library has just
instituted. I’m told the policy will go into effect on November
first. I’d like to know how you predict that will affect your
library.”

“And where did you hear about this?”

“I’m an investigative reporter. It’s my job.
And part of my job is protecting my sources.” She crossed shapely
legs covered in black fishnet stockings. Catching Alex sneaking a
peek, Hart gave him a patronizing look. “We both know the Bedford
Falls Board signed off on these new restrictions. Once again, how
do you predict this decision will affect the Vista Heights Public
Library?”

Alex hadn’t even had time to speak with his
department heads about this topic, and if he talked with an online
reporter before discussing the issue with his staff, they would
lose all faith in him. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to discuss this
matter with you until you schedule an appointment.” He got up from
behind his desk and walked toward her, raising his hands to usher
her outside, indicating that their discussion had ended.

Hart didn’t budge. “You invited me into your
office.”

“And now I’m inviting you to leave.”

She clicked a button on her recorder, packed
up her belongings, and placed them inside her purse. “I’ll be going
live with this in an hour or two. My article is mostly complete. I
only wanted to get a few quotes from you to fill in some of the
uncertainties that your patrons will have. I can only imagine that
they’ll be pretty upset.” She grinned. “I’ll be sure to make an
appointment with your receptionist.” She turned, opened the door,
and walked out.

A minute after she left, Alex sat down
behind his desk, picked up the phone, and dialed Marisa’s work
extension. Perhaps someone from Bedford Falls had inadvertently
mentioned their new policy to a friend or relative, and it reached
Gayle Hart. It rang five times before her voicemail kicked in. He
hung up.

Alex thought he’d have enough time to inform
his department heads about Bedford Falls’ upcoming policy change,
which would affect their facility (more patrons would visit,
increasing wear and tear on their facility), budget (staff would
have to be judicious with expenditures), and service (patrons would
demand materials they didn’t have and would express their
disappointment and irritation, which would affect front-line staff
who had to deal with upset customers).