Memories (2 page)

"Fall back!" the commanding officer yelled from behind, and Miguel instantly doubled back in the direction he had come. Shots snapped over his head. To his left a hand grenade went off, making him veer a bit, when suddenly his left foot stepped onto a hidden mine and all he heard was ‘click’.

 Michael sat straight up in bed and instinctively reached down to feel his left leg. Yes, it was still there, not completely perfect, or the same as it had once been, but there. Wiping the sweat from his face with the back of his hand, he looked around the dark room for several minutes before assuring himself he was not in Nam, it was not 1970. He was safe in his own apartment high above the Chicago lights.

 Michael checked the clock on his nightstand. 3:30 A.M. He slid out of bed and walked through the dark apartment, opened the refrigerator door and drank deeply from the carton of orange juice. In the light of the refrigerator he smiled to himself, thinking of his daughter, Vanessa, and how she used to say "Gross Dad!" every time he did this. But his daughter was no longer living with him, she was grown-up and married and had a daughter of her own now and she ran the New York division of Regal Coats.

 Michael had raised her by himself after his wife decided she could no longer handle being his wife or a mother. He'd only been home from Vietnam for eight months, trying his best to cope with civilian life and get back to being the husband and father he had been before shipping out. But Diane couldn't take the nightly screams of anguish he suffered or his constant tenseness or times of distraction. All she knew was he wasn't the same man she’d married and she didn't want to get to know this new man, so she left him and Vanessa to fend for themselves and joined a commune in Oregon to ‘find herself’.

 Michael juggled the next few years raising Vanessa alone along with an endless procession of jobs and women, not able to commit to either. He felt so dirty, so unworthy of enjoying life after all the death he'd seen and been a part of in Nam that he was unable to maintain a relationship with any one woman for a long period of time. He knew it was wrong to jump from woman to woman, and he was careful that Vanessa never caught on to his exploits, but he couldn't stop himself. Like the pot he'd become addicted to in Nam, so was he addicted to women. He’d meet a woman and feel good for the moment, the hour or the day, but then he'd plunge back down and need another and another.

 He remembered few faces and names. And the women all reacted much like his wife had to his constant nightmares. It scared them, or baffled them, except for one young woman. When he'd scream out in fear or pain from a nightmare, she'd hold him and rock him in her arms until he’d calm down. She'd whisper over and over to him that he was all right, he was home and she was there, until he would slowly come out of his nightmare state and back to his senses.

 She had also been the only one to suggest he go for counseling to help him through his pain. "If not for you," she'd say gently, "then for Vanessa." Sweet little six year old Vanessa who she had grown to love in the few months she’d known them. But he thought he was too much of a 'man' to admit he needed help. He could handle everything on his own. He didn't need an eighteen year old girl to tell him what he should do.

 She had been one of the longest relationships he'd had, and she had been the last of the string of women. After her, his life changed overnight, without warning or preparation. He was forced to change his ways and clean up his act as responsibility was dropped into his lap.

 Michael placed the half-empty carton back into the refrigerator, walked to his bedroom and slipped between the sheets. He had an eight o'clock meeting in the morning and he had promised Catherine he'd be at her place by eleven o'clock for lunch. She was expecting an old college roommate of hers to visit and she wanted Michael to meet her.

 He smiled to himself at the thought of Catherine. At forty-four, he was seven years her senior, but he looked much younger than his age. His build was strong from regular workouts and even though his dark hair and full beard showed a few strands of silver, it only added to his rugged good looks. His deep gray eyes and golden brown skin could not deny his Portuguese heritage, although he had given up his true first name of Miguel for the American version. Women were attracted to him easily, but he'd been out of the market for a long time while he worked hard at the business and raising Vanessa. Only with Vanessa married and gone did he begin to allow himself the pleasure of women in his life again, and along came Catherine, beautiful, softly rounded, energetic yet easy-going. He enjoyed her company, especially in bed, and they had a few interests in common, like racquetball and tennis, along with working in the coat industry. Unfortunately, he wasn't interested in much more from her than just fun and companionship and lately he'd sensed from her an eagerness to commit. He wasn't ready for that now, and maybe he never would be.

 This time when Michael finally fell to sleep his dreams were not filled with smoke and heat and death, but instead with the face of a young, blond, blue-eyed woman telling him he was okay, everything was going to be fine.

Chapter Two

Dani spent the entire morning looking over jewelry samples and listening to sales presentations until her head ached. When finally she escaped the dealers with her purchases completed and walked out of the stuffy showroom into the bright morning sunlight, she felt as if she could breathe again.

 It was only ten o'clock and although she wasn't expected at Cathy's until eleven, she hurried in the direction of the city train in the hope of arriving early so they could chat. Dani hated driving the busy streets in downtown Chicago, so she had left her car in the hotel parking garage and used the trains instead. While waiting in the crowd to board, a load of people alighted the train and passed through and a man in a tan trench coat with briefcase in hand elbowed into Dani, stopping only long enough to turn and say a quick "excuse me" before hurrying on his way. For a moment, Dani thought she recognized him, but then shook her head no. He wouldn't be here, in a trench coat, on his way to the garment district. There was simply no way. But, as Dani rode along in the crowded train car toward the suburbs of Chicago, she couldn't help but see that man's face over and over in her mind.

 Catherine Jamison was delighted to see her dearest friend. "Oh Dani, it's been so long!" she exclaimed as the two hugged in the doorway. Dani took off her light coat and hung it in the hall closet while Cathy talked a blue streak. "How was your drive? Isn't the weather gorgeous? Oh, I wish you had stayed with me instead of at a hotel, there's so much to catch up on!"

 Dani laughed at her friend's barrage of questions and comments with no chance for her to reply. Cathy looked refined in her red silk blouse and cream trousers, her three-inch heels giving her five-foot, three-inch frame added height. But her bubbly nature defied her appearance, changing her into the college girl Dani remembered so well. Finally, Cathy steered Dani to the plush cream sofa, sat down and simply asked, "How have you been?"

 Dani answered her friend's questions one by one as the two visited easily in Cathy's comfortable living room. "I would have loved staying here with you," Dani told her. "But with my meeting schedule, I thought it best to be at a hotel."

 Cathy nodded. "I understand how buying trips are," she said. "More meetings and paperwork than there is time."

 "Speaking of which," Dani raised her eyebrows at Cathy. "Tell me about this new love in your life. All I know is his name is Michael, he owns Regal Coats and he's your boss."

 For the first time since Dani arrived, Cathy was quiet, her eyes pensive. Pushing back a strand of her thick, auburn hair, she began. "Michael is...different. Not in a bad or strange way, he's just his own kind of person. He's a great boss to work for and a much respected businessman, and he's very kind and attentive," Cathy's words trailed off.

 "But?" Dani asked as Cathy hesitated.

 "Well, sometimes he seems so far away, distant, hard to get close to. And then his mood breaks and he's warm and loving again."

 "Do you think he's 'the one'?"

 "I don't know," Cathy answered honestly. "For a while I thought we were becoming that close, but lately things have been different. Like something is missing. I wonder sometimes if he just doesn't want to commit to anyone, now or ever." Cathy sighed. "Guess I can't blame him though. He's already been married once and has a grown daughter. He's even a grandfather!" Cathy made a face and both women laughed, their mood brightening again.

 "Not that it matters," Cathy continued. "I don't know if I would want to start a family now, at this stage of the game. Children are so much responsibility and I'm not sure I'd have the patience to raise any now..." Cathy stopped mid-sentence, realizing what she had said. "Oh Dani, I'm so sorry. Here I am blabbering on about children. I mean of all people, I should know better."

 Dani placed her hand softly on Cathy's arm. "It's okay," she assured her friend. Cathy was the only person, besides Dani's parents, who knew about her inability to have children. Dani had confided in her late one night in the dorm room they shared in college after their conversation turned to the future and having children. Cathy understood how much it pained Dani not to be able to have a child of her own, and that's why she stumbled over her words now.

 Dani changed the subject back to Michael. "I'm sure he's just hesitant about the relationship," she consoled her friend. "Most men are, you know. I'm sure he'll change his tune in time."

 Cathy smiled hopefully. "You're probably right." Looking at her wristwatch, she gasped. "Oh, oh, it's getting late. I'd better finish making lunch." Cathy hurried toward the kitchen with Dani at her heels.  

 "I couldn't decide whether to have lunch or brunch. It drove me crazy just thinking about it." Cathy rolled her eyes, making Dani laugh out loud. "But I decided lunch sounded better. Michael will be here any minute; will you set the table Dani? Everything you need is sitting on the sideboard."

 "Sure thing." Dani began setting out the place mats and silverware on the oval glass-topped table as Cathy banged and clattered in the kitchen beyond. A centerpiece of fresh flowers rested on the glass, its colors matching the cream and blue tones of the china. As she completed her chore, the door chime rang and she saw Cathy hurry to answer it.

 Cathy's apartment was small, but stylish. Her decorating style was as elegant as the way she dressed. The dining room opened up into the living room and the entryway was beyond that. Dani stole a glance in the gilt-framed mirror above the sideboard, checking her make-up and smoothing her hair. Beyond her, the mirror reflected a man with a trench coat and brief case in hand, leaning over to place a kiss on Cathy's cheek.

 "Dani, Michael's here. Come meet him," Cathy called out.

 Dani turned and walked across the living room toward the couple. She stopped short as Michael's face turned in her direction. My God...it can't be, she thought, her heart pounding in her chest. The room swirled around her in that one instant she recognized him. No, this isn't happening. It's not him.

 Michael walked up to Dani, his hand extended in greeting. "It's so nice to finally meet you," he said, unaware of the turmoil brewing inside her. "Cathy has told me so much about you that I feel like..." Michael stopped mid-sentence when he was only inches away from Dani. "Well, I'll be," he exclaimed so softly that only Dani heard him.

 It was him! Dani's mind raced between past and present, as her eyes traveled slowly over the figure before her. His silk suit was impeccable; his dark hair was groomed and neatly trimmed as was his beard. A complete opposite from the shaggy-haired man in blue jeans, sneakers and T-shirt she once knew. But it was the same man. From his wavy black hair to the tips of his polished leather shoes he was every bit the businessman. But to Dani, he was the past come alive. "Miguel," she whispered, and only Michael heard and understood.

 "Yes," he said, his steel-gray eyes searching her blue ones intensely. "Danielle, I never thought I'd see you again." He smiled softly at her, that warm, caring smile she remembered so well, as he reached out to hug her.

 Instinctively, she drew back, away from his touch. Slowly, the shock of seeing him again, after all these years, registered inside her. She stood there, eyes narrowed, daring him yet denying him with her eyes to move one step closer. Michael stopped short; confused by the look of pure loathing she gave him, he made no further attempt to touch her.

 Cathy watched the scene before her, confused. She walked up to Dani, fearful of the look of complete hatred she saw in her eyes. "Dani, are you all right? What's wrong?" Looking from Dani to Michael she asked, "Do you two know each other?"

 The concern in Cathy's voice broke Dani from her reverie. This was no longer her Miguel; this was Cathy's Michael, the man who had made her friend so happy. What had happened to Dani in the past had nothing to do with Cathy's life today. With great effort, she forced herself to calm down, a curtain closing off the hatred in her eyes and softening her expression.

 "I'm sorry, Cathy," Dani began, choosing her words carefully. "I was just shocked to see someone I knew from long ago. Miguel, I mean Michael and I met a long time ago when I still lived in California."

 "Oh." Cathy gave Michael a puzzled look. "You never mentioned California before."