A Promise of Forever (11 page)

“Can you honestly see Ben giving up his practice and moving halfway across the country? Leaving his sisters? Starting over again?” A tiny place inside her, Avi was surprised to find out, would love it if Lucy said Yeah, sure, for the right woman. But the rueful look that crossed her face had no hope in it.

“Honestly, no. Especially leaving his sisters. He’s more like a father to them than a brother. Besides—” Her brow wrinkled. “You know about Patricia leaving home for George?”

Avi nodded.

“His mother abandoned the family to go off and follow George in his Army career, and Ben’s still dealing with that resentment twenty years later. I don’t—” Reluctance darkened Lucy’s whole face. “I don’t mean to be negative, but I think Ben would see it the same way—abandoning his family to follow you for your Army career. I don’t see that happening.”

That place inside Avi was disappointed but just a little. A temporary fling—she’d known that from the beginning, and she’d been okay with it. Was still okay with it. She wasn’t going to get her heart broken because she wasn’t expecting anything more. Fun and lust and, yeah, maybe even a bit of love by the time she left, but temporary. Not permanent. No chance of permanence.

“Maybe you’ll decide twelve years in is long enough?” Lucy suggested. “I know once you pass ten years, common sense says stay in and get those benefits, but if something better came along…”

Avi smiled faintly. “That sounds like a compromise, only I would be the only one giving. I wouldn’t ask a man to give up his career for me. Why would I give mine up for him? All I ever wanted was to be a soldier.” And a mom. “Maybe when I come back in eight years, we’ll both still be single and the sizzle will still be there, and who knows what could happen then?”

So much had happened in the last eight years. Truly, who could even guess at what might happen in the next eight?

W
hen Calvin Sweet was nine years old, a new girl moved in down the street. He and his best buddy, J’Myel, didn’t much like girls. Girls tended to be fussy about their clothes and getting dirty and putting worms on fishing hooks, and when they got mad, they did a lot of crying and whining. He and J’Myel had figured this girl wouldn’t be any different.

They were riding their bikes down the street the day after the girl moved in. She sat on the porch step, chin in her hand, and watched as they whizzed past, pedaling as hard as they could. At the end of the street—as far as their mothers let them go—they turned around and rode by her again. About the fifth pass, they’d come back to find her standing at the edge of the street. They didn’t have curbs in their neighborhood. Gran said they were lucky to have pavement.

She stepped in front of them, and J’Myel braked to a stop, his front wheel only six inches from her shin. “What do you want?” he asked sullenly.

“I was wondering—”

“We don’t play with girls.”

Her eyes had narrowed as she settled her hands on her hips. “It’s rude to interrupt.”

“Then quit talking,” he’d sassed. “’Cause we don’t play with girls, and we don’t listen to ’em talk all the time, neither.”

So quickly that neither of them was prepared for it, she grabbed the front wheel of J’Myel’s bike and yanked it up in the air. Caught off-guard, he went flying backward, landing on his butt, skinning his elbow where it hit the pavement. She gave the bike a shove, letting it fall to the ground away from J’Myel, turned to Calvin, and smiled. “I was wondering where the nearest fishing hole is.”

That had been the start of a long friendship with Benita Pickering.

Calvin sat on a bench in a shabby little park in Tacoma. It was tucked away at the end of a dead-end street, with three concrete picnic tables and two matching benches. There was no playground equipment to entice families with children, no shade from the hot sun, not even an outhouse-style bathroom for emergencies. The grass was only mowed when it got tall enough to leave clumps of hay everywhere, and the park was so near the railroad tracks that everything shook when a freight train rumbled through. Even teenagers looking for a place to make out or smoke a little weed took one look and found it unacceptable.

It was where Calvin spent most of his time.

When they’d gone fishing with Bennie that first day, she’d caught a catfish so big it could have taken her hand off. Impressed, J’Myel had forgiven her for knocking him off his bike. But he’d never forgotten it, never missed a chance to insist that it was only because she’d taken him by surprise.

They’d become best friends that day. She was good at everything they did, and better than them at some of it. She was as good as a boy, J’Myel said, and Calvin agreed. In high school, they’d finally noticed she wasn’t a boy. And that was when the trouble started.

Calvin rubbed at the pain in his forehead. He would give his left hand for one day without thinking about J’Myel. He’d give his whole damn arm for a solid case of amnesia. He wanted to forget the last ten years of his life—everything he’d seen, everything he’d heard, everything he’d lost. Every
one
he’d lost.

He knew every name. He could list them in alphabetical order, or by date of death, or location, or cause of death. He remembered their families, their plans, their hopes, their regrets. Their first days. Their last ones. Their memorial services. In his mind, he could see the iconic memorial, one for every soldier who’d died: a pair of combat boots, a rifle, a helmet, and dog tags. He could see J’Myel’s dog tags.

His best friend dead. Benita widowed. And Calvin’s spirit was broken, his hope lost.

“One day, God,” he murmured, his voice rusty, “without thinking about him. Is that too much to ask?”

Of course, God didn’t answer.

And J’Myel was still there in Calvin’s mind, laughing, teasing, hating, haunting, dead.

The Three Amigos was one of Lucy’s favorite places in town, and not just because she loved good Mexican food. She had great memories associated with the restaurant, from the times she and Mike had come here to all the healing, happy meals she’d shared with the margarita girls. In the summer, they claimed half of the restaurant’s patio, shaded from the sun, cooled by ceiling fans and icy drinks. Lately, those drinks had been of the nonalcoholic variety out of respect for Jessy Lawrence. Jessy had been sober about three months, and Lucy prayed for her to stay that way the rest of her long, happy, healthy life.

Miriam, their usual waitress, greeted her as Lucy slid into a chair facing the parking lot. “Wow, Lucy, I don’t think you’ve ever been the first to arrive.”

“Nope. But I took a vacation today and lounged around doing nothing, so I had plenty of time to get ready.”

“Oh, honey, that’s no way to spend vacation days. You should go somewhere. Playa del Carmen and Cozumel are lovely places to get away.”

Miriam was from Cozumel, Lucy knew, and her husband from Playa. They went back every year to visit family and to indulge in the Yucatecan cuisine they loved. “I don’t swim, snorkel, scuba dive, or lie on the beach.”
Or anything that requires putting on a swimsuit.
She’d turned down an invitation to accompany Joe, his brother, and the brother’s girlfriend to the Virgin Islands for just that reason. Sad but true.

“There’s other things to do. Tours, dining, Mayan temples, shopping.”

Another waitress delivered two glasses of iced tea, and Miriam handed one to Lucy. Marti swooped in and took the second, downing half of it in one gulp before sinking into the chair across from Lucy. “Hey, LucyLu, Miriam. I’ve had a hard day. Keep those iced teas coming, please.”

Lucy moved five tortilla chips from the basket between them and laid them on the saucer in front of her. “You work at a desk in an air-conditioned office. How hard could it have been?”

A perfectly manicured and polished nail tipped the finger Marti wagged in her direction. “Hard days are hard days no matter where they take place. It’s not always fun sitting at a desk in an office. You know that.”

“What would you rather do instead? Be on your feet all day? Work outside in the heat?”

Marti thoughtfully munched on a chip. “I think that I would like to try being a kept woman for a while.”

It was unladylike to snort, Lucy’s mom used to tell her, but she couldn’t help it. “You? Let some guy support you and tell you what to do?”

“Oh, no, no. He can pay my bills and buy me things, and I’ll have sex with him once in a while, but no bossing me around.”

“Good luck with finding a rich man who’ll agree to that.”

Marti wrinkled her nose. “You’re probably right. I could take a page from my mother’s book and marry an old geezer who’s at death’s door. Then when he dies and leaves me everything, I’ll be set for life.”

“Except you’ll spend the next fifteen years and all of his fortune in court fighting his kids’ claims that you’re a gold-digging witch who took advantage of poor ol’ Dad.”

“Well, aren’t you just cheery today?”

“Lucy’s always cheery,” Ilena Gomez said. She set the baby carrier that was practically as big as she was in an empty chair, shucked a giant diaper bag, then sat down between her sleeping baby and Marti. “She makes me happy just looking at her.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said before sticking her tongue out at Marti.

“You’re welcome.” Ilena leaned to the right to bump shoulders with Marti. “You’re not always cheerful, but you make me happy, too.”

“Thank you.” Marti imitated Lucy’s tongue-out.

“Anyone do anything interesting today?” Ilena asked. “Anything besides changing diapers, cleaning spit-up, and soothing a cranky baby? I bet I walked twenty thousand steps today without leaving my house.”

Lucy loaded one of her chips with salsa. “I met Ben’s new girlfriend,” she said before popping it into her mouth.

Both women raised their brows and gasped. “Really?” Marti asked.

“Tell us all about her. If we meet her, do we have to hate her?” Ilena wrinkled her nose. “Because I have to tell you, I don’t do too well with hating other people.”

“No, you don’t have to hate her. Her name is Avi, and she’s a soldier who’s friends with Patricia, and she’s very nice. I like her.”

“You’re like Ilena,” Marti pointed out. “You have trouble with hating other people, too.”

“I do not,” Lucy argued, though it was true. “Besides, there’s nothing about Avi to hate. We talked. She’s sweet and funny, and Norton loves her.”

“Well, there’s the seal of approval,” Marti scoffed. “Norton likes everyone.”

“Except Ben.” Ilena reached across to shoo an insect from the baby’s face. She was fair-skinned with white-blond hair and blue eyes, while little John looked just like his father, Juan: dark skin, black hair, the biggest darkest eyes Lucy had ever seen. He was the light of Ilena’s life, and all the margarita sisters doted on him, too. Lucy adored him and, when she held him in her arms, she envied Ilena. God, what she wouldn’t give to have Mike’s child. It would have changed her life so completely.

“Are you guys happy doing what you do?” As soon as the question was out, Lucy blinked, surprised it had come from her. It hadn’t even been in her mind…though thoughts about her own future had been niggling in the back of her mind since the visit with Avi.

“I love my job,” Ilena replied. She was the glue that held together the biggest real estate office in town. She answered phones, marshaled troops, kept up their morale, and was the first face people saw when they walked through the door. She created such a great first impression that Lucy was sure that was why most of the prospects became clients.

“Paralegal wasn’t on my list of dream jobs when I grew up,” Marti said, “but I like it. I get to snoop around, I’m involved in cases, but I don’t have to bear responsibility for the outcome. Why?”

Lucy shrugged. “Just wondering if I want to do something else and have the courage to try it.” Or if she would settle for what she had.

Now there was a depressing thought: staying exactly the way she was. For the entire rest of her life.

The beginnings of new romances were always wonderful. Avi loved finding out everything about a new person, the passion, the potential, the particularly fun sex. One day she hoped she found a man she could grow old with, but looking for that man was a great way to pass the time.

It was nearing eight o’clock, and she was wandering around Utica Square, gazing in shop windows, and watching the people who passed. Sundance walked on her leash at Avi’s side, well behaved until she sniffed a tree or bench that someone else’s dog had marked with its scent. Then she showed no dignity at all.

Ben had said he would call Avi as soon as he was done at the hospital, and she’d offered to bring dinner with her. Since she wasn’t about to leave the dog alone in the car, not even for a quick run inside a restaurant to pick up an order, she’d had to get a little creative in order to avoid showing up with fast food. Earlier she’d talked to the hostess at P.F. Chang’s, arranging for the girl to bring their to-go order outside to her.

When the phone rang, she was greeted by a low, sexy rumble of a voice. “I’m walking out of the hospital.”

“Aw, you’ll get there before me.”

“The lobby doors lock at eight, so I’ll wait there for you.”

“Okay. You’ll recognize me by the food I carry and the puppy attached to my wrist.” After saying good-bye, she headed across the parking lot toward the restaurant while calling to tell the hostess she was on her way.

Ben didn’t beat her by as much as she’d expected. He was just taking his mail from the box when she knocked at the door. A slow, sweet smile formed as he came across to let her in. He kissed her, his hands sliding over her spine, sending little shivers of pleasure through her, spiking her temperature, filling a bit of emptiness inside her so that now everything was perfect.

Abruptly, he sucked in his breath, then backed off, scowling down. Avi followed his gaze to find that Sundance had bound herself to his legs with the leash and was now trying to bite her way free. With a laugh, she slid the leash from her wrist, then unwound them both. “I don’t know what it is with you and dogs.”

“Dogs and I get along fine.”

“Except Norton. Sundance met him today and adored him.”

He exaggerated his faux smile. “Of course she did.”

Once inside his apartment, Avi unhooked the leash, and Sundance trotted off to explore. Watching Ben watch her, Avi said, “She won’t mark her territory.”
Please, Sundance, don’t mark anything.

Leaving her bags on the sofa—her purse and a backpack containing toiletries, a change of clothing, and a plastic dish of food for the dog—she carried their dinner to the kitchen counter and began unpacking it. She located plates and silverware and set them out, then took two bottles of water from the refrigerator. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got three entrees and an appetizer. Dinner and, if we have any leftovers, breakfast.”

Plates loaded, they sat across from each other at the small dining table. Sundance took up a position between them, eyes alert for falling morsels. “Don’t share with her,” Avi warned, picturing another of her mom’s notes in her mind:
Chinese food gives her gas.
And the one beside it:
Really, really bad gas.

“Do I look like the sort of person to share my dinner with a dog?”

“You’re sharing your loft with her for the night.”

“Yes, but that’s because it means sharing it with you, too.”

She smiled brightly. “And I thank you. How did your surgeries go?”

“Great. I hung around a while after the last one. It’s not the first time I’ve done surgery on this patient, and she’s slow to wake up. I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

Idly Avi wondered how many surgeons left their slow-to-wake-up patients in the hands of the hospital staff. If she was keeping score, that would be another point in Ben’s favor, but she wasn’t. Hell, she was charmed even by his and Norton’s mutual dislike. Which reminded her. “I saw Lucy today. She told me you two used to go out. Did she break your heart?”