Poughkeepsie (2 page)

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Authors: Debra Anastasia

BOOK: Poughkeepsie
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“Have a great day, Blake.” Livia continued to linger. She hated leaving him here, defenseless.

“I’ve already had the most amazing day.” He glanced at Livia’s eyes, and she could see victory in his. She had a feeling that that they had both felt the same intense pull.

As she got on the train, Livia felt her cell phone vibrate. She pulled it out, but when she saw it was Chris, her boyfriend, she put it back in her bag. She wondered about herself as she sent him yet again to voicemail.

Unbelievably, Livia found an open window seat. She turned toward Blake and found him giving her a casual salute. She waved, but instead of waving back he just smiled like a man who’d won the Lotto.

Livia was relieved to see Blake’s usual spot empty when she got off the train that evening. He’d listened to her suggestion. Then as she stepped over the gap between the train and the concrete platform, she felt a shiver all the way up her spine. She gasped as she spotted his tall, lanky frame waiting just outside the train’s doors.

He looked instantly regretful when he realized he’d startled her and took a step back.

Another commuter stepped out from behind Livia and asked, “Is this piece of trash bothering you, lady?”

Livia suppressed the need to punch the guy in the stomach. “No, he’s a friend of mine,” she said. “I’m just surprised to see him.” She made a point of reaching out and grabbing Blake’s hand.

The tingling started again. Blake looked down at their clasped hands like he’d found a leprechaun in the wild. The commuter shook his head and went on. Livia dragged Blake away from the emptying train.

“I thought you were going to be somewhere else.” She used her sternest voice.

An assortment of feelings flashed through his eyes, but his smile remained in place. He glanced again at their hands twirled together. “I
was
somewhere else,” he finally said, pointing to the woods. “But I wanted to escort you to your car, to make sure you’re safe.”

Livia could hear her father freaking out in her mind. He would hate the idea of Livia’s brand-new homeless stalker walking her to her isolated car.

Blake let go of her hand to hold his up in a non-threatening manner. “Unless you’re afraid of me.”

His face looked as though the mere thought poisoned him. Livia couldn’t help but admire his full lips and strong jaw.

“No, Blake, I trust you. I’d be honored to have an escort to my Escort. I’m a little afraid of the dark.” Livia tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear.

“I’m not afraid of the dark at all, so this way, milady, to your chariot.” Blake held out an elbow, formally.

He looked so debonair in his worn jeans. His hair was unruly, but looked clean and shiny. This man was a contradiction.

“Thank you, kind sir.” She took his arm, and they began to ascend the ridiculously steep stairs to the parking lot. “I’m grateful for the company, but why me, Blake?” She looked at her feet as they walked.

“Livia.” He seemed thrilled to let the word roll off his tongue. “Do you know that I’m invisible?”

Now I’ll find out why this achingly beautiful man spends his time lumped in front of a piece of cardboard.

“No one has really seen me in years.” Blake looked at the sky. “Sometimes I wonder how they know I don’t have a home. I try to dress decently.” He waved a hand at his jeans and army jacket. “I think it just seeps out of me. I’m not the same as everyone else.” He shook his head, his eyes reflecting a weary despair. As he looked at Livia again, the despair was chased away with a grin. “But when you saw me for the first time, you actually saw me. You
saw
me, and then you smiled like I was just the same as everyone else on that platform.”

Livia’s eyes filled with tears. Blake was right. No one saw the homeless—even if they had to step around someone whose bed was the sidewalk.

Blake waited as she dug for her keys in her purse. “You should have those out and ready to go when you’re alone.” He motioned for the keys when she found them. “May I?”

Livia weighed the options. She hated the thought of mistrusting Blake, but handing him her keys would seem so dangerous in any other setting.

The air thick as he waited for her decision, hand extended.

I can’t make him feel like less. I have to treat him like I would a date dropping me off at the door.

She handed him the keys. Blake unlocked her door and held it open. Livia settled inside, and Blake handed the keys back to her.

“Drive safely, brave Livia.” Blake closed the door and waited until her vehicle purred to life. Then he turned and walked back the way they’d come. Livia nodded with her decision to trust him. It had somehow created a bridge, giving him a gentleman’s job.

Livia’s cell phone rang, and she answered it distractedly. “Hey, Kyle. What’s up?”

Her super-excited sister could hardly breathe. “Oh my God, Livia! Chris was just here to ask Dad for your hand in marriage!” she gasped. Then a moment later she added, “I wonder if I was supposed to tell you that. Oops.”

“Wow. That’s really great.” Livia could not make her voice match her sister’s enthusiasm.
Why?

Just then, Blake turned around in the poured-silver light of her headlights and gave her a sparkling smile.

2

Cooler of Debris

I
N
T
HE
W
EEKS
T
HAT
F
OLLOWED
, Livia played a new game every day. It was always some version of “Ignore Chris and Pretend Nothing’s Wrong With That.” She was getting quite good at it, and so far it had prevented him from actually proposing.

In her heart she knew she was being very disloyal to their long courtship, but for whatever reason, the idea of engagement was mixed with a heavy dose of dread anytime it bubbled to the surface. And when she wasn’t with Blake each morning and evening, she was thinking about him. Chris had slipped way down the list to somewhere between laundry and the Escort’s overdue oil change.

Not helping was Kyle, who had gone into hyper-drive and purchased ten different bridal magazines, even though there’d been no proposal. The sight of them on Livia’s dresser unsettled her. She kept moving them from place to place around the house and finding things to do besides flip through them.
Of course I love Chris
.
I must.
We’ve been dating since we started college. Marriage is the next logical step.
Still, Livia ignored the magazines, and as much as possible, she ignored Chris. “It’s just very busy these days,” she told him. “School is really kicking my butt right now. I have to focus.”

Livia had trouble concentrating in the mornings as she anticipated Blake looking for her as she came down the steps at the station. She began arriving earlier and earlier, blaming her change in scheduling on wanting a better parking spot when her family asked.

But it was a lie. She just craved more time with Blake. During those minutes each morning and evening, she felt herself becoming someone she’d never been before. Not someone else, really, but fully herself. She basked in Blake’s attention.

Depending on the sun, he sometimes now met her as she pulled in. Her heart would pound as she glimpsed his familiar form from the top of the stairs. Twice she almost wrecked her car because he was staring at her.

When the sun was out, she would walk to find him in his shade. He always stood as she approached. They’d fill the minutes before the train with happy banter and always had so much to tell each other. Blake had inquired politely about Livia’s schoolwork and what she studied, but she quickly changed the subject. She was proud to be going to grad school, but Chris had made enough comments condemning her field of study that she was shy about it now. During their last phone conversation he’d reminded her that psychology was the study of psychos. He didn’t understand her need to listen to those who might not have anyone else to confide in.

Instead of sharing insights from her studies, Livia made mental notes whenever something amusing happened so she could share it with Blake. Sometimes her cheeks hurt from laughing when he finally held her car door open for her in the evening. He was there every day and every night. For her.

One morning she arrived with her breakfast in her hands, trying to buy even more train-station time. He seemed so distracted by her simple bagel with egg. She wanted to beat herself over the head with it. He was hungry.

I’m a dumbass
. Of course. She’d been so selfish—just pleased to be adored and never once thinking, let alone asking, about how he got to her, how he survived. He wasn’t an angel, but a live person who needed sustenance and shelter to survive.

The next morning, determined to do better, she arrived with a beautiful breakfast sandwich tucked into her bag.
How many mornings have I smiled at him?
She grinned as she got out of the car and on the entire walk to the platform. As she started down the large staircase, she saw him. The desire to be near him suddenly became a physical presence.
Whoa
.

Today Blake stood in his shady spot with Livia’s smile echoed on his face. She had to force herself not to run to him.

“You’re early.” His eyes stayed on her face.

“I made you a sandwich,” she announced, presenting it proudly.

Instead of more smiling, Blake’s whole face disengaged. He put his now lifeless gaze on the ground and nodded with grave seriousness.

“I’m not a charity case.” His words had sharp edges.

Livia bit her lip. “I make a really great breakfast. I just wanted to share.”

Embarrassment crawled up her throat like heartburn. She’d obviously crossed a very prominent line in the sand.

“I didn’t earn that sandwich.” He stared at it like it might come alive.

“Well, from my point of view you did. You’ve escorted me to my car, and you’ve entertained me for weeks. I appreciate it.” She watched his eyes for a sign of life.

“Any man should be expected to shepherd an unattended lady to her car.” Blake now moved his gaze to her feet.

Of course, he wants to be a thoughtful gentleman, not a trained seal getting food for tricks.

“Are you saying I’m too delicate to walk myself to my car? I shared my fear of the dark with you, and now here you are throwing it in my face.” Livia squinted at him and peeked through the lashes of one eye.
Please let this work.

His eyes flashed to her face. “No, of
course
not. I have no desire to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, as an empowered woman, I’ve decided to repay your kindness. I have no intention of putting a gentleman to a task and not reciprocating in some way.” Livia held her nose up with mock-exaggerated dignity.

His tone became a bit more playful. “Like I said, that wasn’t a task, it’s what manners require. Now, I might be able to take that sandwich if you were also giving these other fifty people on the platform a nice bagel, but I only see the one.”

“You’re really not going to eat it?”

He shook his head, his hair falling into his bashful eyes.

Fine
. Livia changed the subject and chatted politely with Blake about the weather until the train arrived. She didn’t mention the breakfast when she saw him in the evening, and left him a bit more quickly than usual. She had to stop at the store.

I’ll feed fifty goddamn people every freaking morning if I have to. Just so he can eat one sandwich.

She woke before dawn the next morning and was a whirling dervish in the kitchen by five o’clock. Cracked eggshells covered the counter around the sink, and foil-wrapped circles were stacked on every available square inch of table—and some of the chairs.

About an hour in, Kyle stumbled onto the scene through the back door. “What the hell?” she grumbled. She pulled her messy hair out of her face to better examine the ridiculous preparations. “Are you having, like, one of those sleep-drug-induced wakemares?”

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