Happy Birthday (21 page)

There was a lot of talk too about the recent terrorist attack. It was still all over the news. Official groups all over the Middle
East were in an uproar about it, and wanted no association with it. They were furious over the damage it had done to their image and worried about the impact on their relationships with the U.S. They had all expressed sympathy over the lives that had been lost. And the president and governor were trying to reassure the public that nothing like it could ever happen again, but they knew it could. No one was safe anymore. And hardest for those who had lived through it were the friends and co-workers they had lost, like Jack and Valerie with their assistants.

By the time they finished dinner, both of them were tired and relaxed. They walked up to his den, and forgot about the movie as they talked. There seemed to be a thousand topics they were interested in and had opinions on, and they watched a few minutes of
Monday Night Football
that he had recorded, and he explained some of the plays to her, in preparation for her trip to the Super Bowl.

“You’re still coming, right?” he asked, looking worried, and she smiled at him.

“I wouldn’t miss it. April was impressed that I’m going. I like your idea about continuing to open doors and explore new things. I told her about it at lunch.” She was tempted again to tell him about the baby, but didn’t. She just couldn’t bring herself to admit to being a grandmother yet. Maybe when she saw the baby she’d feel differently. But right now all it was to her was an assault on her vanity, a confirmation of her age, and a worry for her about April. “She’s juggling an awful lot these days,” she said cryptically to Jack, without saying more.

“She always does. She’s an incredibly competent young woman. She runs that restaurant like a Swiss clock. I suspect she learned that from you.” He smiled at Valerie. He already had a sense of how organized she was. He was a little more haphazard about how he approached things, but he got a lot done too. Except for now. He was going stir-crazy being stuck at home. He had worked hard with the therapist in the gym in his apartment. The bullet had done more damage than he thought, and the leg was still painful and very weak.

They were both surprised to discover that it was midnight by the time they stopped talking. Valerie put on her parka and bundled up. It was cold outside and had started snowing during the evening. It looked like a Christmas card, and Jack looked forlorn as she got ready to leave, although she could see that he was tired.

“I’m sorry I can’t walk you home.” He would have liked to, but there was no way he could. “Maybe you should take a cab. It’s late.” He didn’t want her to get mugged on the way home, but Valerie smiled.

“I’ll be fine. It’s nice to get some air.” And it was so pretty while it snowed, until the next day when it turned into a mess.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” he said, looking boyish. “I like hanging out with you,” he said, as he pulled her gently toward him as he leaned on his crutches. “You’re good company, Valerie,” he said, and meant it.

“So are you.” She smiled shyly, feeling different vibes from him than she had before, and she wasn’t sure what they were. Probably nothing. They just liked each other, and were both
lonely and bored. And the aftermath of the attack had shaken them both up. Valerie still got anxious every day when she went to work and walked into the building. And although Jack had gone to April’s restaurant with her once, he seemed to prefer staying home in his cocoon where he felt safe, and didn’t feel ready to go out again. It had affected both of them more than they’d realized at first, but they’d been warned that that could happen, and more than likely would. There was no way to survive something as traumatizing as that without aftershocks. They’d been told to expect to experience aftereffects of the trauma for as much as a year.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” he asked, still holding on to her jacket, as though trying to keep her from running away. She laughed at his question, and was touched by the look in his eyes.

“You’re going to get tired of me if I come every day, silly,” she teased him.

“We didn’t watch the movie. We could watch it tomorrow night.” He sounded needy suddenly, which seemed unlike him, and she was sure it was a result of what he’d been through, and a sign of post-traumatic stress.

“I have to go to a network dinner tomorrow night,” she said with regret, and he looked startled.

“I was supposed to go to that too. I guess I can’t, or shouldn’t. I hate those things anyway.”

“So do I, but they’re command performances. And I have no excuse. I didn’t get shot in the leg. You’re off the hook.”

“I’ll call you,” he said, and they kissed each other on the cheek and she left.

She was walking down Fifth Avenue in the falling snow, thinking about him, and her cell phone rang. She thought it might be April, who often called her late when she closed. But it was Jack.

“Hi,” she said, as the snow fell on her head and wet her face. It felt great. “Did I forget something?”

“No. I was just thinking about you and wanted to say hello. How’s the snow?”

“Gorgeous,” she said, grinning. She hadn’t had a call like that from a man in years, for no reason at all. “You’ll be out in it again in no time.” She knew how restless and bored he was.

“Valerie, I really like you,” he said suddenly. “I love talking to you, and spending time with you.” And then he added, “And you’re a great cook.” She laughed.

“So are you.” They were living on takeout food, which wasn’t unfamiliar to her. “I have a good time with you too,” she said, as she stood at a corner, waiting for the light to change. She was halfway between his place and her own, with Central Park glistening white across the street, blanketed by the snow that had been falling that night.

“What if something happens between us?”

“Like what?” she said, looking vague as the light changed. There was no traffic on the street.

“Like boy-girl stuff. You know.” He sounded cute and young as he said it, and she smiled.

“That sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it? I’m old enough to be the mother of the girls you go out with.” Or worse, the grandmother. She didn’t say it. But the thought was like a punch in her stomach. He went out with women forty years younger than she was.

“What difference does that make? Falling in love isn’t about age. It’s about people. And those girls aren’t appropriate for me either. They’re just a hobby, or they were. Because I had nothing else to do with my time. You’re the Super Bowl, baby,” he said, and she burst out laughing. “They’re just practice in the backyard.”

“I’ve never been called that before.” But she knew that it was a compliment coming from him. “I don’t know, Jack. I thought we were friends. It would be a shame to screw that up.”

“What if we didn’t? What if it was right for both of us?”

“Then it would be a good thing, I guess.” But it was too soon for either of them to know that yet. And she didn’t want to be just a fling to him, between shifts of his young girls.

“Why don’t we keep it in mind?” he said softly, and she didn’t answer for a minute, not sure what to say. “How does that sound to you?” He wanted an answer from her, and she didn’t know which one to give. She wasn’t sure.

“It sounds interesting,” she said cautiously.

“Possible?”

“Maybe.” She wouldn’t rule it out, but she thought that in theory he was too young, and she too old, although there was only a ten-year difference in their ages. But it seemed like a lot to her, particularly given his history and lifestyle.

“That’s all I wanted to know,” he said, sounding happy. And then she thought of something.

“Are you involved with anyone now?”

“No. Are you?” He was pretty sure she wasn’t from all she’d said. But it never hurt to ask. Sometimes old lovers were lingering in closets, and still dropped by for sex from time to time. That was always good to know.

“No, I’m not.”

“Good. Then we’re both free. Let’s just see where it goes.” But she liked where it was. It was so comfortable being friends with him that she hated to turn it into a dating or seduction game, playing cat and mouse. She loved the friendship they were just beginning to share.

“I like being your friend,” she said softly.

“Me too. That’ll work for now. Where are you anyway?”

“I just got to my place,” she said, slightly out of breath from the cold. “I’m outside.”

“Well, go on in. Don’t catch cold. I’ll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight.”

“You too.”

They hung up and she walked into the building, thinking about him. She didn’t want to do anything foolish or that she’d regret. But she liked him, a lot. And then she remembered his theory about being brave enough to open new doors. She had no idea if they’d ever open this one, or even if she wanted to. But at least it was nice to know, she reminded herself as she went up in the elevator, that the door was there, whether you opened it or not.

Chapter 13

V
alerie saw Jack half a dozen times before the Super Bowl. She went to his apartment for dinner, and he took her to April’s once. They went out for pizza at a restaurant for a change and a real movie in a theater, and they always had a great time. They went to an art exhibit in SoHo, of an artist Valerie knew, and a play at Lincoln Center. They talked endlessly about every subject, and the relationship between them was growing warmer but building slowly, and neither of them was rushing it. They had no idea if it would ever be more than this.

The most exciting time she saw him was at the ceremony a week before the Super Bowl, when the mayor gave him the award they’d promised him, at a highly publicized event at City Hall. The medal they bestowed on him was for bravery in the service of his fellow citizens in the face of grave danger. They gave
him a certificate and a medal and the governor was there too. He had always been a big fan of Jack’s.

Every news team from every channel attended, and Jack invited Valerie to be his guest. His son came down from Boston, and Valerie thought he was a very nice young man. He was tall and clean-cut and as handsome as his father, and he looked very proud of him as they gave Jack the award. Valerie had brought April with her, and the four of them spoke for a few minutes before Jack had to go for a photo op with the mayor and governor. He was using a cane by then and not crutches.

Valerie left with April after the ceremony, and Jack called her later to thank her for coming. It had been a touching event, and both April and Valerie had cried. There had been a moment of silence in honor of the lives that had been lost. All April could think about was what if her mother had died, and Valerie was shaken by it too. April had worn a big, heavy down coat, and her growing pregnancy still didn’t show. She was nearly five months pregnant by then and hadn’t heard from Mike in nearly a month, and was pretty sure she never would again. April kept reminding herself that she had never expected him to participate anyway, so this was no different. The only difference was that he had turned out to be so likable and appealing that now she would have liked him to be involved. The pregnancy had turned out to be more emotional than she had expected. She cried a lot, which was unheard of for her. And she felt fragile and vulnerable, which was her hormones working overtime, but it was
unsettling anyway. Her doctor said it was to be expected, especially in a first pregnancy where April had no frame of reference and everything was new to her.

April said something about it to her mother in the cab leaving City Hall after the ceremony. “I never used to cry,” she said, blowing her nose.

“You’ve also never been pregnant, and by a guy who refuses to give you any emotional support.” Valerie was seriously annoyed with Mike about it, and she and Pat had discussed it several times, but there was nothing they could do. Pat had asked her if she thought he should call Mike, but Valerie didn’t think so, and thought April would be upset if she found out. She said it was really between the two of them, but April’s father was upset too. He thought disappearing was a rotten thing for Mike to do. This wasn’t how they had wanted their daughter to have her first child.

April was very brave about it and didn’t complain. She worked as hard as ever, and Jean-Pierre seemed to lend an extra hand wherever possible, almost too much so. He was always at her beck and call, anxious to help her. It was making her uncomfortable. April didn’t want to take advantage of it and encourage him. She had other things on her mind.

April and Valerie talked about her going to the Super Bowl in the cab. April still thought it was funny that she was going, but she had to give her mother credit for doing something new. And she and Jack had apparently become good friends, after their shared experience of the terrorist attack. April was aware that
her mother was spending a lot of time with him, but April didn’t think there was anything more to it. They had survived a terrifying experience, and they were just friends. And for the moment, that was how Valerie thought of it too. They saw each other frequently, but neither of them had stuck their neck out farther than that, and she was glad. She had no desire to spoil a good thing, and it might.

The buildup to the Super Bowl was tremendous. There was endless press about it. Jack was back on his feet by then, though still with a cane. The network put him back to work, and he did several pre-Bowl interviews with major players and both coaches. He was fully back on deck again, and running in a thousand directions all at once.

He stuck his head in Valerie’s studio one day when she was taping. She couldn’t react, and he just waved and disappeared. They never saw each other at work; neither of them had time.

Valerie’s work life was going smoothly these days. Dawn had turned out to be even more efficient than Valerie had hoped. And she had dyed her blue streak purple. Valerie just smiled about it. She was growing fond of her.

It had been emotional for Jack going back to the building at first, more so than he had expected. All he could think of as he walked in was what had happened in the lobby when the hostages were freed. He had arrived in his office shaken and pale. He missed Norman, the young production assistant who
had been killed. And other staff members were missing too, which they all noticed. Valerie had also lost a cameraman from her show, in addition to Marilyn. There had been a service in the lobby for the victims several weeks before. All the employees and families had attended and Dawn had come with her and cried, even though she hadn’t worked there when it happened. She felt a special bond to Marilyn, through all that Valerie said about her. It was still a hard time for them all, but everyone was doing their best to put the experience behind them and move on. And no one liked talking about it at work. It was too real.