Out of the Shadow (8 page)

Becca looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "Oh my God, Sarah, I can’t believe you’re doing this for me. After all that’s happened lately, when even the police won’t protect me, I was losing my trust in humanity. It’s funny. I was just thinking of dropping out of therapy because it has stirred up too much, but this gesture makes me realize how much I need you right now. You’re the only one I can trust to be there for me, who doesn’t have another agenda. That means the world to me."

I squeezed Becca’s hand closed around the key. While I felt a little uneasy about transgressing a professional boundary, I knew deep down I had done the right thing. Becca might never need to use the key, but with everything she faced, we both felt better knowing she had it.

A grid of downtown Philadelphia made it look like any other large eastern city, but from Rittenhouse Square, all Becca could see was the lovely old park, surrounded by stately eighteenth and nineteenth century buildings. Certain areas of the city bore a closer resemblance to a bombed-out Beirut, but the downtown had a generous sprinkling of high rises scattered among older, low-slung townhouses, elaborately carved fountains, and a well-preserved historical district. On Market Street, a statue of William Penn prominently rose above City Hall. For years no one had been allowed to build higher than the statue’s hat, but all that had changed with the times. Now, tall, modern office buildings clustered nearby. Becca had always loved her native city and her love affair didn’t suffer because of her view from Rouge Restaurant on Eighteenth.

Julie tattooed painted nails against the table top. "Julie to Becca, where are you? A minute ago I asked you a question, but you’re too busy orbiting earth to respond."

Becca looked back at her mother. "Don’t you think the park looks lovely in the afternoon light?"

Julie frowned. "You’re such a dreamer! When are you going to come back to reality?"

"Better a dreamer than a schemer, I always say." Becca secretly enjoyed turning the tables on Julie. Then her attention was drawn to the sidewalk, where a stylish young mother pushed a stroller. Her mood quickly shifted to longing and envy.

"Finish your salad if you want to go shopping,
 I don’t have all day. I have plans for this evening. Paulie’s joining your father and me for dinner after six."

At the mention of Paulie’s name, Becca flinched.

"Since I’m making a big meal, why don’t you join us? Paulie would be thrilled to see you again, and I’ll invite Drew if you want me to."

Although she had found Drew appealing at the party, the idea of Julie’s matchmaking turned her off. Besides, she wasn’t sure where she stood with Evan and she didn’t want to lead Drew on. "Funny running into him after all those years."

"Not as funny as you might think. He’s been nagging Lisa about seeing you ever since he moved back to town."

"Isn’t it unusual I don’t remember him, if he recalls me so well?"

"You were still young when he moved away to attend college. I always marveled at how tolerant he was of you when he was around. Not many teenage boys have that type of nature." Julie reached across the table and placed a hand on Becca’s arm. "Please join us tonight."

"I can’t, Mom. I made plans for this evening already," she said, stalling. She had to think fast. The last thing she wanted was to spend an entire evening with her parents. She had enough to cope with already.

"What plans can’t be modified to spend time with us?"

"It’s a visiting lecturer in my friend Evan’s department, and she won’t be in town again for a while. I’ve been planning to attend since I heard she was coming, and I don’t want to miss out on it." She crossed her fingers under the table for telling a half-truth. Evan had mentioned Byron Katie would be speaking in Philadelphia this evening, but she hadn’t planned on going along.

Julie folded her napkin and sat back. "Can’t you change your plans? It would make Paulie happy."

Who would it please, Paulie or Julie? She knew the answer. "I made a commitment to him."

"How about your commitment to your family? That’s never stopped you from doing what you wanted."

The words stung like a slap on the face. "How can you say that? I always did what you and Dad wanted me to. I wanted to go to George Washington University, but you didn’t want me to be far from home, so I attended Temple University—"

"A good school—"

"That’s beside the point. And I married David even though I wasn’t quite ready to settle down, because you didn’t want me to move out on my own. I designer-made my life to suit you, and now all I want to do is a little something for myself and you make a problem out of it."

"Ha!" Julie slapped her open palm on the table, startling Becca. "You can’t pin your choice of a husband on me. I liked David, but you’re the one who brought him home. I didn’t make you go out with him."

Technically true. Even though he was the son of a family acquaintance, she had met David on her own. Of course, Julie had made sure they would both be there and told her they should meet, but she and David had taken it from there.

Perhaps Julie was right and she couldn’t totally blame her mom for the choice she had made. Sure, Julie approved of David, because she perceived him to be a strong, solid man who would take care of her daughter. While Julie might have played a part in her decision to marry him, Becca had ultimately picked him over her other suitors - a man for whom she had no real passion. Could there have been a connection between her choice of David, and what she now realized was her knee-jerk reaction to other, more attractive men? And did it mean there was something more insidious behind her choice?

She glanced over at Julie who, although still a handsome woman, seemed to be aging of late. Lines had etched their way into the soft skin around her lips and eyes, and a bulge had formed under her chin. The longer Becca looked at her mother, the less she wanted to argue with her. "I promised Evan I’d go with him this evening, but I’ll definitely make arrangements to do something with all of you another time."

Julie leaned her head forward in a conspiratorial manner. "What’s with you and this Evan fellow?"

"Nothing, Mom. How could there be? I just buried my husband. I’m not about to start anything new."

"But you told me you only married David to make me happy. Obviously he wasn’t the love of your life."

"I cared deeply for David. Maybe not always as a wife should, but unwaveringly as a friend. Anyway, thrilled or not, he was my husband, Mom, and I owe him my loyalty. I’m surprised to hear this coming from you. I thought you were the authority on family allegiance." The words were out before she heard the inflection in her own voice. Too late. Julie heard it, too.

Hurt filled her eyes. "It’s impossible to have a decent conversation with you. I hope someday you can accept me for who I am. We'd better get going."

In the same way you accept me?
Becca thought about adding. But there was no use prolonging the pain. "Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to upset you." Becca reapplied her lipstick and placed her compact back in her purse. She wanted to be more patient with her mom, but she had a lot to learn. When the hell would she ever learn it? And what type of lesson would it take?

Back at her apartment, Becca tried on the low-cut dress she had purchased at
Ross
, in an attempt to lift her mood at the end of the tense afternoon with Julie. As if being with Julie wasn’t enough stress, she had come home to another of those unsettling silent messages on the answering machine.

With Cecil by her side, giving her legs a grateful rub, she modeled the dress in the full-length mirror on her closet door, then hung it up. In the kitchen, she fixed herself a glass of iced tea and Cecil a bowl of
kibble
. She was about to carry the tea into the living room when the phone rang. It was Drew.

"I’ve been meaning to call you for days because of the way you left the party the other night. How are you? Is everything all right?"

After an afternoon with Julie, that was a tough question to answer honestly. "I’m fine. How are you?"

"Busy, but I had to call and let you know how much I enjoyed meeting you at your parents' house the other night. I’ve been thinking about my promise all week. Since I owe you a coffee, I was wondering if we could get together downtown one afternoon after work. What do you say?"

What could she say? Not sure she should start anything new with all she had on her plate, she couldn’t think of an excuse. "I say okay—as long as we keep it casual."

"Sure. Sure. No problem. Since I’ll be in court this week, how about if I give you a holler early next week and we make plans?"

After agreeing to this, she carried her tea to the window seat, curled her legs beneath her, and sipped the spicy chai brew. Glancing out over the sugar maple in front of her apartment, she suddenly felt sad. Its vibrant red and orange leaves had turned brown, littering the pavement and the street, reminding her of how long it had been since David’s death.

She watched as the wind kicked up leaves and sent them tumbling into the gutter. As though sensing her mood, Cecil leaped into her lap and purred. She petted him absently, and
 thought about her mother. No matter how hard Becca tried, she had trouble being patient with Julie. She knew her mother only wanted the best for her, and wished with all her heart she could control her tongue better. But Julie would only have to open her mouth, and Becca would find herself on the defensive again.

The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Julie. Her mother had enough to deal with, married to a man who hardly ever acknowledged her. Even during Becca’s earliest years, Julie had turned to her to fill the void in her empty marriage. And for a long time, Becca had done her best to make her mother happy. Somewhere around her early teens, she had stopped trying.
 She had to be her own woman, but being strong always set up a battle of wills with Julie.

A knock on the door roused her from her reverie. She opened it to Evan’s beaming face.

"Where have you been? I came by earlier."

She ushered him into the apartment and offered him an iced tea and a seat on the couch. "Didn’t I mention I had a lunch date with my mom?"

"No, I missed that one. How did it go?"

Becca made a face. "Hunky-dory. She insisted I come by for dinner, but I refused. Naturally that set off fireworks. A fun time was had by all."

"Did you tell her how you felt about needing more space for yourself?"

"You have to be kidding. It’s impossible to tell my mom anything she doesn’t want to hear."

He raised a brow.

"Okay." She stuck out her hand. "Slap me now. I know I’ve been bad, but how do you tell your mom you have trouble being around her? If you think of a polite way of saying it, let me know."

"You can’t put this off indefinitely."

"Watch me. I excel at keeping Julie in the dark about my life. If I open the door even a crack, she’s rummaging around inside, rearranging my mental furniture. Where do you think she’ll put the surround sound?"

"You don’t trust her, right?"

"Elementary, my dear Frankin."

"Did you ever figure out what bothered you about your uncle the other night?"

She topped off their drinks and placed the pitcher down on the coffee table. "I think it was his cologne or aftershave. That’s as close as I’ve been able to come."

"You don’t know the type by chance, just in case I wear it. I wouldn’t want to offend you."

"How could you?" She poked him playfully. "Can you stay long? I’ll make dinner."

"I have to go back to school for an acupuncture class, but I actually stopped by to see if you’re free tomorrow. I’ve been thinking about a hike over to Independence Square. I haven’t done anything but study for weeks, and I thought it would be fun to spend the afternoon with you. I’ll even take you out for a bite afterwards."

The possibility of being with him pleased her. Even though she’d considered punishing him for his recent lack of availability,
 the idea instantly vaporized at his proposal. Why was it so damn hard to stay angry at him? "Sounds like an offer I don’t want to refuse."

"Good. I’ll come by around noon."

He stood. "And don’t worry about your mom. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to."

"Metaphysical mush, but sweet nonetheless. May I escort you to the door?"

At the door he turned toward her. "Out with you," she said, and gave him a playful shove forward before she had a chance to take him up on what his eyes offered. "Go back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow."

The thought alone would get her through the night. She quickly closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. The idea of spending time with Evan sent a warm wash over her. Then she considered his unexplained absences of late, and the warm feeling turned into a cold splash of reality.

Again she reminded herself she had better take her time with him. She didn’t want to lose her heart before she found her head.

Two days later, Angela caught up with Becca on her way out of Mrs. Wilson’s hospital room. In a thoughtful mood after her date with Evan, Becca just wanted to finish her work and find her way back to a quiet place. Not that Evan hadn’t been the prefect gentleman. They’d had a super afternoon visiting the historic district, admiring the renovated houses of historical figures like Benjamin Franklin and Betsy Ross, as well as Independence National Historical Park. But the kiss he had given her at the end of the evening had set off so many conflicting emotions, she needed time to process through them all. The moment she spied Angela, she realized that wasn’t about to happen.