Part 32 (1/2)

”You can't know, Mary. You think it's easy for me because I'm different.”

She huffs and rolls her eyes. ”Don't go playing that queer card on me. I don't buy it. Love is love, no matter who's involved. And make no mistake, Miss Prissy, I know all too well what it's like to be with someone one day and wake up alone the next. I wasn't much older than you are when my first husband left.” She stops and shakes her head, lips pressed into a tight red line, eyes far away. ”That's water under the bridge, but the point is...”

I put down my pen and give Mary a hard stare. ”Look, I'm sorry if I underestimated your open-mindedness, and I appreciate your concern.

I've gotten a little off track, that's all, but I'm back on now and everything's fine.”

”You take the cake, you know that? Once you set your mind to something, you're as stubborn a person as I've ever come across.” Mary leans toward me. ”That track you're so proud of being on just may be a dead end. Think about that.” She doesn't look at me again as she rises and leaves.

Dead end, live end, who cares? It's my track and I'm staying on it.

If you're lucky, you get one great love in your life, and I've had mine.

Anything else would be a lie. Yes, I've stumbled, been tempted to play at a fake relations.h.i.+p, but that's all over. I'll clean up the mess I've made with Rebecca and forget all this ever happened.

209.

I steer into Choppy's parking lot and have trouble finding a s.p.a.ce.

Good, Rebecca will be busy. I park under a budding elm tree near the street and check my makeup in the rearview mirror. As I stroll toward the building, the suns.h.i.+ne is warm on my face, but a gentle breeze reminds me that we could still have some cool nights ahead. My heart sags at the thoughtcool nights spent alone in a big house with a c.o.c.ker spaniel and a horror movie. On the bright side, I'll be saving a bundle on lunch tabs.

Inside the restaurant, I wait to be seated. The balding man in front of me is wearing too much aftershave, and I sneeze four times before he leaves. When the hostess leads me to a booth near the bar, I sit down and bury my head in the menu.

”h.e.l.lo, stranger.” Rebecca slides into the seat across from me. That didn't take long.

I put my menu aside. Big mistake. She's smiling, her eyes holding mine, that infernal dimple begging me to kiss it.

My knees go weak, and I struggle to keep my voice level. ”Looks like you've got a good crowd today.”

”Not too bad for a Wednesday.” Rebecca glances around before looking back at me. She leans in. ”I've missed you.”

I look around the bar as if I'm expecting someone. ”Work has been crazy this week. Three of my local sales reps have huge projects on my desk, and one of my installation foremen is out with a broken arm.”

”How are things aside from work?”

”About the same. Jitterbug is due for shots next week, and I need to make an appointment with the vet. Jared and Elizabeth are taking a vacation, and the kids are going to stay with me this weekend. I'm not looking forward to that. They can be a real handful. Tonya says to tell you h.e.l.lo. How are things with you?” I'm talking so fast the words are running together, making little sense.

”Nothing special. Work, work, work. You know how it is.”

A harried waitress I haven't seen before scoots up to the table and brushes a shock of blonde hair from her eyes. ”Hi, welcome to Choppy's. I'm Diane, and I'll be taking care of you today. What can I get for you?”

Rebecca gives her an approving smile and looks at me. ”Diet Sprite and a garden salad with ranch dressing?”

”Yes, that'll be fine.” I fold the menu and give it to the waitress who scurries to the next table.

I arrange my silverware. ”I hear we're supposed to have nice weather this weekend, temperature may hit the seventies on Sat.u.r.day.”

210.

”That's what I heard, too.”

She's scanning me. I hate it when she does that. It's like she can see right into me.

Rebecca nudges my foot with hers. ”I was hoping we could get together again soon.”

I look at her again and my determination slips a notch. I roll my shoulders and stretch my neck, but the muscles get tighter. ”Uh, yeah, we'll get together sometime soon.”

Rebecca peeks at her watch. ”Listen, I've got some paperwork upstairs that I need to take care of. Want to go up with me for a minute?

We can take your lunch with us.”

After a long pause, I say, ”Okay, but only for a minute. I've got to get back to the office.”

I follow Rebecca to the bar where she tells the waitress we'll pick up my order in the kitchen.

This isn't going as planned. I was supposed to let her know I cared about her as a friend, but instead, I'm thinking about attacking her as soon as her apartment door closes. I imagine her scent filling me, her lean body against me, her lips on mine.

No, this isn't going well at all.

CHAPTER 39.

I didn't hear the bathroom door slam behind me, or the lock click into place; didn't feel my knees. .h.i.t the tile floor, or the contents of my stomach splash into the toilet. But I heard the banging on the door and her ambiguous words pounding in my head.

I sat on the floor, my back against the wall. The tile was cool under my hands. Emotions bounced around my head. I told myself it wasn't true, tried to convince my intellect that it was all a bad dream. Despite my suspicions, despite all the signs, I'd held out a shred of hope. Lora would never betray me, never let someone else's hands touch her, someone else's lips kiss her. I'd wanted to be wrong, prayed to be wrong, but it was true. Lora had admitted seeing someone else.

Horrid visions flashed in my mind. An unknown shadow groped her naked body, and Lora writhed with pleasure beneath it. The visions became clearer until my senses were overwhelmed by the imagined sound of her breathing, the aroma of her s.e.x, the vision of her nails tracing tiny lines down someone else's back.

Vomit surged again, and I scrambled back to my knees and retched into the toilet. Acid burned my throat. I couldn't breathe. I sat there five, maybe ten minutes, staring at the bathtub, my worst fear smothering me.

Lora was still banging on the door. ”Claire, what the h.e.l.l are you doing? Are you all right? Let me in.”

I didn't answer, didn't move. My head roared with questions that had no real answers. Why did she stop loving me? What did I do so wrong? How had I mistreated her? Frantic, I searched my memory for some evil deed, something rotten enough to force her into someone else's arms.

Everything around me looked fuzzygleaming bra.s.s faucets, monogrammed hand towels, beveled mirror. Was this what my life had come down to, an unfocused photograph of the perfect suburban bathroom? Is that what I'd worked so hard for, spent so many nights on the road for, to end up cowering on the floor, broken and alone?

211.

212.

My pain surged into a hurricane of anger, rage braced to lash out at anything. I jumped to my feet, lungs heaving. In the mirror, I caught my reflection, but it wasn't me. It was an animal, wounded, furious, and poised to attack. It was that animal who raised her fist and slammed it against the mirror. When the mirror shattered, a shard of gla.s.s struck my fist, slicing a long, jagged cut between my knuckles and along the back of my hand. I stood there, looking at my torn flesh, watching red ooze spill out.

”Claire, G.o.dd.a.m.n it, if you don't unlock this door, I swear I'm going to break it down!”