Forever (4 page)

What the hell was that
?

Still groggy, Tom first thought the images filtering through his mind were remnants from a dream and then that they must be a jumble of reality and dream.
The movie theater
. That’s where he’d seen those images. That crazy scene. Running through the trees, the pain ripping into him hadn’t felt
like a dream, but something so weird happening to him and he just accepting it,
that
was
like a dream. He lay on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, as he picked through his memory for the details.

By the time he decided he hadn’t dreamed a bit of that experience, he was wide-awake. He threw back the covers and headed to the shower. But ten minutes later, while he toweling off, Tom changed his mind. The whole thing was too weird
not
to be a dream.

He pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and started for the stairs. At the top step, he froze with his hand on the railing, his foot suspended in mid-air. He knew, now, why Julie had woken him so rudely on a Sunday.

During the drive home last night, he’d stopped his daydreaming long enough to realize that Julie was as angry with him about the evening as he was with her. It hadn’t helped that he’d stalked into the house, leaving her outside to say goodnight to her friends. He and Julie had taken a vow on their honeymoon never to go to sleep angry with each other. More often than not, they’d kept that vow. Last night they’d broken it. Neither giving an inch, they’d tossed and turned for a while before falling asleep. It was no wonder he’d woken with the sun blazing in his eyes.

He continued down the stairs toward the kitchen. Julie had probably been up since dawn, waiting to chew him out. Even if he’d only dreamed the weird part of last night, he and Julie would still argue over the real part. And if the weird part
had
happened, he felt sure Julie had noticed.
Face it, Old Man, you’re screwed
.

Typical for a Sunday morning, Julie sat at the table in the breakfast nook, the newspaper spread out before her, a section held in one hand and her coffee mug in the other. Lindsay was not in sight, but then what eighteen-year-old wouldn’t sleep till noon any day she could get away with it?

“Morning.” Tom poured himself a cup of coffee. He grabbed the sports section and took his usual spot across the table from her. The only response from Julie was a flash of angry eyes over the top of the Arts & Entertainment section. He sighed. “All right, what did I do now?”

“Do you have any idea how rude you were last night?” She slapped the paper on the table. “If you weren’t even going to
try
to enjoy it, why did you agree to go?”

“In the first place, I
agreed
to spend the evening with you alone. You know I never enjoy being with Patricia. And that Eddie! How could you even
think
I could tolerate a creep like him?”

“I wasn’t expecting them to drop by. And I didn’t actually invite them to come along. They just . . . assumed. Anyway, that’s no excuse for sitting silent all night. You embarrassed me, Tom.”

He took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to fight with her this morning—especially if it had anything to do with Patricia. “I wasn’t silent all night. I just didn’t have much to say about the movie.”

“You had
nothing
to say about the movie. You had nothing to say about
anything
. Your mind seemed to be somewhere else. Back at the theater maybe?”

Her vehemence alerted him she was more upset than his behavior last night warranted. Despite that heads up, her mention of the theater caused a thrill to ripple up his spine. “What are you—”

“Did you think I didn’t notice you staring at that woman in the ticket booth?”

Before any reaction could show in his face, Tom jumped to his feet and retraced his steps to the coffee maker for a refill. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even remember seeing the person in the ticket booth.”

The smudge of guilt from those lies quickly washed away with a surge of relief. The confusion vanished. Again, images and emotions from the night before flashed through his mind. Confirmation that he’d had such a strange experience made him uneasy, but he couldn’t deny it also excited him. The Woman was real. Julie’s voice, now surprisingly calm, shattered his reverie.

“What was it you whispered when you saw her, ‘Oh, my God’? Did you think I—and Patricia, by the way—couldn’t
hear
that?”

Shit
. Tom closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Julie, I don’t remember saying
anything
. I had a headache, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled that our date night had turned into a double date. That’s
all
.”

“Is she someone you know? Someone you never expected to see there?”

Tom sighed. Not trusting himself to face her yet, he remained at the counter. “What are you insinuating?”

“I’m not insinuating anything; I’m asking directly. Did you have—or are you
having
—an affair with her?”

The tremor in her voice made it clear that, while the memory of last night elated him, it caused her pain. He berated himself for not realizing how deeply his actions had hurt Julie last night. He left his cup on the counter and pulled her into his arms.

“God no,” he said. “I
swear
I never saw that woman before last night. You know I’ve always been faithful to you.”

It looked like Tom would spend half his Sunday doing the yard work he hated. He would have gladly paid for a gardening service, but Julie protested, saying she liked doing it herself. The problem was, she didn’t have time for all the work and he ended up doing most of it for her. Today, the real problem was that it gave him too much time to think.

As he knelt, spreading fresh mulch around the roses, he confided his thoughts to the dog who followed his every move. “Why didn’t I tell Julie about that thing with The Woman, Max? She probably wouldn’t believe it happened, but I didn’t even give her a chance.”

Max whimpered and laid a paw on Tom’s hand.

He rubbed the dog’s head, sat back on his heels, and lit a cigarette. “I should go back inside, right now, and tell her the truth.” After a moment’s thought, he shook his head. “Too late. She’d think I’ve been out here cooking up an explanation. A fantastic one, at that.”

Besides, he’d already decided that tomorrow, as soon as he could get away from the job site, he would go back to the Cineplex to see if The Woman was working. He needed to know what she’d seen last night when whatever it was had happened to them.

“Maybe this was only a new experience for me. She could be some kind of psychic or clairvoyant or . . . whatever. Maybe things like that happen to her every day. You know?”

Max cocked his head at Tom.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to put a move on her. I’m a happily married man—mostly. And hell, for all I know, she has a husband and six kids at home.”

The dog offered no opinion.

“It’s just too weird. I’ve got questions I need answered before I can let it go.” After he talked to The Woman, he could file the whole thing away and forget it. Someday, if he had one too many at a party, he might tell the tale. “Let me tell you about the weirdest thing that ever happened to me,” he would say.

Julie stood at the kitchen window, watching Tom work in the yard. Last night hadn’t turned out the way she’d hoped—the way either of them had hoped, she thought. She couldn’t blame him for being irritated at sharing their first night out in three weeks with another couple—especially that couple.

Surely there had been a moment when she could have stopped Patricia at the door, told her that she and Tom wanted to be alone, but she couldn’t remember it. It seemed that one minute she sat alone on the sofa waiting for Tom, and the next minute Eddie was shaking Tom’s hand. How had that happened?

Still, that didn’t explain the woman at the Cineplex. Tom had denied knowing her, but Julie worried that something in his eyes said otherwise. Hadn’t she witnessed the longing as the two of them looked at each other? How could you long for someone you’d never seen before?

She winced remembering the check-it-out nod Eddie had given her. The instant she turned and saw her husband gazing deeply into the eyes of another woman, the security blanket of her marriage had frayed at the edges. Her hurt anger had flared out in all directions—toward Tom for cheating, possibly, or at the least, for flirting right in front of her; toward Eddie for noticing; and toward Patricia for tallying up another strike against Tom.

But this morning, he’d denied everything. He didn’t know that woman. He wasn’t having an affair with that woman. He hadn’t even noticed that woman. Were those lies? Was it possible her imagination had run wild? She laid a hand low on her abdomen. Her need to believe him was as strong as the fear of what grew inside her.

Tom had always been her one sure thing. It wasn’t conceit to feel he worshiped her; he’d shown that in a hundred ways. She
had
to believe his love was still hers.

Julie poured a glass of cold water from the fridge and carried it out to him.

“Thanks, babe.” He drained the glass and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“It’s awfully hot out here. You’ve finished mulching this bed. Why don’t you leave the rest?”

He looked doubtful. “Leave it for who?”

“I’ve been thinking. You’re right about hiring gardeners for the grunt work. I’ll call around tomorrow.”

“Hallelujah.” He handed her the empty glass and started gathering up the gardening tools.

Julie admired the muscles in his arms and back as he worked. My husband. My man. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and we’ll have lunch at The Shack?”

“What about all those calories?”

“I thought you had a plan for burning those off.”

His grin melted her.

* * *

Before she opened her eyes, Annie heard Kate’s voice in another room. No doubt, she was on the phone, planning her next man-hunting safari. Sometimes Kate talked Annie into joining those ventures. Last winter, Annie had taken up country line dancing because Kate said the men who went to those dances weren’t jerks like the ones at the singles bars.

Wrong! They were just jerks in cowboy boots. Men! She gasped. “Oh, my God.
Tom
.”

Annie sat up, jolted wide-awake by a rush of excitement. A smile flashed across her face and then, just as quickly, vanished. She crumpled against the pillows. For a moment, she’d been sixteen, thrilling in the Sunday morning afterglow of a Saturday night date with the coolest guy in school.

She was almost thirty. Too old to have that giddy feeling of love at first sight. That was nonsense.

“Be sensible,” she whispered to herself.

In the first place, Tom was probably a married man, and that made him ineligible.

“Right, Annie?”

Gary had been unfaithful throughout most—maybe all—of the seven years they were married. She didn’t think much of women who knowingly dated married men.

“So, be sensible!”

Annie wrapped her arms around a pillow and curled on her side. She couldn’t think of anything sensible about what happened to her last night. Something wild had happened. Something triggered by the touch of Tom’s hand. It excited her to think maybe he was a psychic. Or a witch. Could he have projected that vision into her mind?

Was that Tom’s novel way to pick up women? She sighed again. He hadn’t actually tried to pick her up last night. But then, she’d missed him on his way out. Maybe he’d looked for her then. Oh, how stupid.

“He wasn’t trying to pick you up with his wife in tow.”

Annie closed her eyes and recalled the look on his face after the vision. He’d looked just as shocked as she felt. No, he hadn’t caused the vision, and he hadn’t expected it to happen either. This was no ordinary experience. It was something special for both of them. Annie had a link with Tom. Somehow she
knew
this. And that link meant that whatever happened between them was out of their control.

She sat up again. He might not be married at all. What if he was single, or divorced, and the woman with him was just a casual date? Divorced was better. At his age, if he’d never married, he probably never would. Not that she was sure
she
wanted to marry again, but still . . . Then again, a divorced man came with a lot of baggage. Either way, she’d been wrong to assume he was married. He just
couldn’t
be.

Feeling as if the ten thousand pieces of her jigsaw life had slid together perfectly, Annie floated out of bed and into the shower.

Annie’s kitchen was aglow with sunlight when she walked in thirty minutes later.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Kate said.

“Uh-huh.”

Kate stood at the kitchen counter, skillet in hand. “Want some of my breakfast? I’ve got plenty.”

“No way.” Kate’s Sunday morning specialty was scrambled tofu with herbs. “How can you be on a first name basis with alcohol and nicotine, yet be so concerned about the food you eat?”

When Kate only smiled, Annie grew suspicious. If Kate didn’t take the bait on their old argument about lifestyles, she must want something.

Kate carried her plate to the table. “Do you work today?”

“No. I traded shifts and worked last night. Remember?” Annie set a cup of water in the microwave to heat for tea and dropped a sliced bagel into the toaster. She was glad Kate couldn’t see her face; it was impossible to keep from smiling when she thought of Tom. Last night’s experience wasn’t something she wanted to share with her sister. It was like a dream that made you feel wonderful but sounded silly when told to someone.

“You acted kinda weird last night. Something happen?”

“Not really.”

“You’re still a little strange this morning. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Annie turned to Kate. At the look of concern on her sister’s face, she relented—halfway. “I had a nightmare. I was with a man. We loved each other. He held my hand in his, and we were running through the woods. Something was chasing us. I was scared. Terrified. The man who ran with me—my husband, I guess—pushed me ahead telling me to run faster. And I did until I realized he hadn’t followed me. I looked back. He’d stopped to face whatever chased us, and I—Oh God, how could I leave him? My heart shook me with every beat. I’ve never felt so scared. I knew he was going to be killed, but I didn’t want him to leave me, so I rushed toward him, ready to die beside him.”