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Authors: Jean C. Joachim

BOOK: Memories of Love
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“Anytime.” Jane left, and Tiffany
tucked into the cake before she turned her laser-like stare on Cara.

With her stomach doing flip-flops, Cara
was too nervous to eat, so she sipped on her tea, holding on to her mug to keep
her hands from shaking.
I wasn’t this
nervous on opening night! Is my whole career at stake?

After a brief pause, both women
started speaking at the same time, then they laughed.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.
Many stars of your caliber avoid me like the plague.” Her polite manner belied
the hard look in her eyes.

“I hope I won’t regret it,” Cara
said.

Tiffany chuckled. “Hey, I’m not
Godzilla
or Bigfoot. I only want to ask
a couple of questions.”

“Shoot.”
A couple of questions? You want to ruin my life and Sarah’s, too.

“I’m not armed either.”

Both women laughed again.

“I read the newspaper account of
what happened, but I’d love to hear your version, Cara, if it’s not too
upsetting to go over again.” Tiffany pulled a small pen and pad out of her bag.

Cara took a forkful of cake before
she began the story of what happened that day. She decided to leave out how
Lonnie Garson came to be in New York, stalking Sarah. If Tiffany asked her,
she’d decide then whether to tell or not.

“When I came out of the theater,
this awful man had my daughter, Sarah, and was holding a knife to her throat.”

“Oh my God, what a nightmare! Let’s
stop for a second. That’s the part I’m most interested in—your daughter. I’ve
been digging, and when I dig, I dig all the way to China. I’ve not found any
mention of a daughter. Where has she been hiding all this time?”

Cara took another sip of her tea and
paused. Tears flooded her eyes at the knowledge that this long, sad story was
now going to turn into a condemnation of her as a mother. The thought of what Sarah
would have to endure made her nauseous. She broke down, covering her eyes with
her good hand.

“Do we have to discuss Sarah? Can
that be off the record,” Cara choked out.

Tiffany put her hand on Cara’s
shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Cara, but I didn’t come here to listen to
off-the-record stories.”

“It’s not for my sake. If this
finishes off my career, I can live with that. Grant and I are planning to
marry. He makes a good living. If I’m no longer an employable actress, we’ll
still have a comfortable life. It’s Sarah.” Cara picked up a paper napkin and
twisted it.

“Sarah?”

“The humiliation she’ll have to
endure. The strange looks from the parents of her friends, the whispering
behind her back of the kids in the schoolyard…” Cara’s chin began to quiver as
tears spilled onto her cheeks. “It’s about her. I’m worried for her. I did
things, made…unavoidable bad choices, and I’m willing to live with that. But should
she have her life destroyed by my mistakes?”

“What mistakes?” Tiffany placed a
hand on Cara’s shoulder.

Cara took a shuddering breath and
wiped her nose and eyes. She lifted her head and looked directly into Tiffany’s
green eyes. “Have you ever had anything happen in your life that you wish
didn’t?”

“Sarah?” Tiffany was aghast.

Cara shook her head. “She’s a gift
from God, but the circumstances of her early life were…well…not what I would’ve
liked.” She paused to take another deep breath. Tears continued unabated.

“Take your time.” Tiffany’s face
softened.

Maybe
there’s an ounce of humanity somewhere in that cold heart?
Cara faced her
directly. “Have you ever done something, something…bad…something you regretted,
regretted so deeply you could hardly admit to yourself what you’d done?” Cara’s
voice was barely audible. Tiffany hung on every word, her expression grim but
sympathetic. “Something you felt was so wrong, but you were up against a wall
and had no other choice?”

Tiffany sat silently. Her gaze
dropped to her fingers fiddling with a button on her jacket. After a few
moments, she glanced at Cara. Neither one moved. Then the interviewer
whispered, “How did you know?”

Cara’s eyebrows shot up, her gaze
zeroed in on Tiffany’s, but she didn’t utter a word. Tiffany put her pen and
pad down. She raised tear-filled eyes to Cara.

“It happened so long ago, and I’ve
been so careful to keep it hidden.” The woman spoke in hushed tones.

“Tell me about it,” Cara placed her
hand on the other woman’s.

Tiffany bowed her head. Took a sip
of her tea and a breath. “It was ten years ago. I was young…foolish. I got
involved with a man much older while I was seeing Nigel. The older man was
married, of course, but he wanted me and was very persuasive.”

Cara nodded, her gaze riveted to
Tiffany’s face.

“I didn’t tell Nigel I was
seeing…Mr. X, let’s say.”

“What happened?”

“I got pregnant.”

“Oh, no!”

“I did, and I wasn’t sure whose baby
it was.”

“What did you do?”

“Mr. X, a big powerful man, wanted
me to have an abortion. He was married and said he couldn’t have anything to do
with a bastard child…a bastard.” Tiffany closed her eyes and shook her head
slowly. “He said he’d set me up in business here in the States.”

“Where were you?”

“England.”

“What did you tell Nigel?”

“I told him the baby was his, but I
wasn’t sure. He was so happy. I decided not to have an abortion.” Tiffany took
a breath.

“What did you tell Mr. X?”

“I lied to him and told him I had
the abortion. He was relieved…” Tears cascaded down her cheeks.

“You really cared for him, didn’t
you?” Cara asked softly.

Tiffany nodded. “Nigel wanted to get
married, so I did. I avoided Mr. X. It was easy… He was afraid I’d get pregnant
again. I had the baby, a beautiful boy. Then I confronted Mr. X about his
promise.”

“What did he do?”

“He made good. He got me a small
office here and set me up with
Celebs ‘R
Us.
He also came to New York and wanted to resume our affair. I kept
putting him off because I couldn’t bear the thought of him touching me. I
didn’t want him to know about Nigel and the baby.

“They stayed in England for eight
years. Nigel’s mother helped raise my son. She became his mother while I worked
to build up the magazine here. As soon as the magazine started to take off, I
gave Mr. X the boot. Nigel and Ethan moved here then. Nigel is a house-dad. I’d
missed so much…almost all of Ethan’s childhood.”

“Why didn’t you stay in England with
Nigel?”

“I was on a student Visa, and Nigel
was barely able to make enough money to support him and his mum. The
opportunity to come here and start the magazine was once in a lifetime.”

Tiffany wiped her eyes on a napkin.
With her good arm, Cara hugged her. Grant peeked in, but Cara motioned him
away.

“I’ve never told that story to
anyone,” Tiffany said, her head lowered.

“I’ll keep your secret, but why me?”

“Because what you said hit me square
between the eyes. It was something I’ve been feeling very keenly these days.”

The women sipped their tea in
silence. Tiffany took another big bite of cake then faced Cara.

Tiffany put her pen and pad back in
her bag. “Now you know my story. Tell me yours.”

Cara broke down and told her
everything, including the part about Lonnie Garson. There were many tears, but
telling her story, unburdening herself to Tiffany, cleared some shame and
regret from her heart.

Tiffany hugged Cara. They both
finished their cake while exchanging stories about becoming “instant” parents.
Tears turned to laughter. Jane returned with Sarah, who ran into the living
room to hug her mom. Cara introduced her to Tiffany, who commented on the
remarkable resemblance between mother and daughter. Then, Jane corralled the
girl to help in the kitchen, leaving the women alone once again.

“Now I have to ask you to please
keep my story to yourself. I don’t want the world to judge me. What’s worse is
that I don’t want Sarah to be hurt. She’s only seven and has already been
through a life-altering experience.”

Tiffany squeezed Cara’s forearm.
“Your secret’s safe with me. And I trust mine is safe with you?”

“Of course. I’d love to meet Nigel
and Ethan someday.”

“That would be nice, but it might
ruin my reputation as a nosy baddy.”

“Oh? You like that?”

“Hell, I’ve worked damn hard to
establish myself as a mean bitch. I’m not about to turn it into a soppy one
now.” She laughed.

“So what are you going to write
about me? The story of the rescue has been done.”

“I’d love to run some pictures of
you, Grant, and Sarah. Retell the story, accurately, without the mistakes in
the other papers and tout your play a bit.”

“But that’s so un-bitchy, so not
you, are you sure?” Cara cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I know. Shake ’em up a bit, eh?
Keep those celebs guessing—are they going to get the lady or the tiger?” She chuckled
and Cara did, too.

Grant joined them. Cara made introductions.
“You’ve a fine eye for men, Cara,” Tiffany said as she looked Grant up and
down.

The buzzer sounded. Tiffany glanced
at her
Movado
watch. “Bet that’s my
cameraman. Right on time, too.”

Sure enough, a young man carrying a
big camera entered the apartment not long after the ring from Rex. Sarah was so
excited to have her picture taken, Tiffany took some separate ones of the
pretty girl and promised to send them along for their family album.

They chatted while Jane fed a piece
of cake to the young man.

“Thank you for your discretion, Ms.
Cowles,” Grant said, shaking her hand.

“Tiffany, please. Some stories are
meant to be told…most don’t really injure anyone. But some are not meant for
publication. I know the difference. Some people think I’m mean, but I don’t
hurt anyone in a serious way. My readers expect the unexpected from me. I
deliver, that’s what’s made the magazine so successful.”

“No offense, but I hope we don’t
meet again, at least not professionally.”

Tiffany laughed. “If you misbehave,
I’ll be there, count on it.”

“Keeping my nose clean. Honest!”
Cara giggled, raising her hand.

“Thank you for your understanding.
You have no idea how much better I feel.”

“Same here. You’re the best.” The
two women hugged before Tiffany took her cameraman by the hand and led him out
the door.

 
 
 
 

Chapter Fifteen

 
 

After Sarah went to
bed, Grant opened up a bottle of
Drambuie
and poured a glass for Cara and himself. They sat on the loveseat in the
bedroom with the door closed.

He put his arm
around her, and she cuddled into him. “We need to talk.”

“Uh oh, that sounds
ominous.” She sat up.

“The scare with that
madman, Garson, made me think. We were fighting about your career, you being
gone for a few months here and there, where we’re going to live, and I almost
lost you both. Watching it all unfold, I was terrified. Made myself a promise
that I’d stop being a jerk. So I’m, more than willing to compromise. I can’t
lose you again. Let’s talk.”

“That horrible
experience made me think, too. I almost lost Sarah. That insane man could so
easily have cut her throat, right there in front of me! Nothing seems as
important to me as you and Sarah right now. With the play going well, we don’t
have to decide anything now, do we?”

He shook his head.
“I guess not. Still, I’d like to have something agreed on before we get
married. Maybe if I hadn’t been so pigheaded seven years ago, we’d still be
together.”

“I wasn’t much
better, running off without a thought to what it meant for you, just assuming
you’d hang around, waiting for me. That didn’t last long.” She gave a sardonic
laugh.

“I’m sorry. So
sorry. I should have called you. I was confused, angry, guilty. Thought I’d
knocked up Evelyn. What a chump!”

“Water under the
bridge, G. We need a plan for moving ahead, not looking back.”

He kissed her.
“You’re the best.”

“Now that Tiffany
isn’t going to destroy my life, I’ll be looking over Gunther Quill’s movie
proposal. But that doesn’t mean I’ll take it. I want the freedom to pick and
choose. If a good movie comes along that I want to do, can we discuss it?”

He nodded. “As long
as you’re not going to be gone all year…”

“I couldn’t stand
that. To be away from you and Sarah for so long would kill me. What if I can do
a movie in the summertime and Sarah can come with me?”

“What about me?” He
took a sip of his cordial.

“Well, you could
join us weekends or for a week or two of vacation time. Could you stand that?”

“I think I could.
Being a bachelor in this city of beautiful women…”

“Hey!” She smacked
him gently in the shoulder. “What happened to honoring your vows?”

“Haven’t made ’em
yet. In fact, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.”

“Maybe because you
haven’t proposed. And I want it done the old fashioned way.” She sipped her drink,
a pouty look on her face.

Grant eased away
from her and pushed to his feet. He trotted over to the bureau to pull out a
small box then returned to Cara and knelt down on one knee in front of her. “Carol
Anne Brewster, will you marry me?” He opened it to reveal a beautiful ring with
a two-carat round diamond, surrounded by smaller diamonds. Cara gasped, her
hand flew to her mouth, and tears clouded her eyes.

“Well? I’m getting
old down here.”

“Yes, yes. Of
course. Yes.”

Grant slipped the band
on her finger then stood up.

“You had the money
to buy such a magnificent piece seven years ago?” She shot him a skeptical
glance.

“My mother gave me
this not long before she died.”

“You never told me.”

“She knew you and
wanted you to have it. There was no way I could give that ring to Evelyn. I
know
mom’d
be proud to see me give it to you.”

Cara wiped her
cheeks. “Oh my God, that is the sweetest, nicest…this is so special.” She gazed
at the beautiful piece of jewelry.

She tugged on his
sleeve until he bent down to kiss her. She got a grip on his shoulder and
wouldn’t let go, so he deepened the kiss. A small moan from her throat told him
what he wanted to hear, she was ready to resume their love life. He broke from
her, his breathing labored. “Can you…do you want to…”

“I do. I can.”

“But carefully?”

She nodded, her eyes
glistening with desire.

“Time to get ready
for bed.” He began to undress her.

She frowned. “Wish I
could undress you.”

“The minute that cast
comes off, I’ll be your love slave…you can undress me, do anything you want to
me.”

“Anything?” Mischief
gleamed in her eyes.

“Within limits.” He
pointed a finger at her.

“Oh, pooh. You’re no
fun.” She made a pouty mouth. He kissed her.

“I’ll show you how
much fun I am.” He took her in his arms and kissed her hard, easing her down on
the loveseat.

“Damn! This is too
small to fit you, me, and your bandage.” He stood, scooped her up, and
deposited her gently on the bed. “This is better.”

Grant lowered his
weight down slowly while Cara rolled onto her good side.

“Can you lie back?”

“Not completely
without a lot of pillows. But I can sit up.” She shot him a saucy look.

“Oh?” He cocked an
eyebrow at her. “So that’s what you had in mind.”

He finished undressing
her, then himself, turned down the light, and set up the pillows. Sliding his
hands over her breasts, he chuckled, “I didn’t touch you for seven years and
now if I don’t touch you for a week, I’m a caged animal.”

She palmed his cheek
as he lowered his mouth to her chest. “Just lie there. Let me do the work, Cara
Mia.”

“Don’t have to ask
me twice.” She lay back and closed her eyes, emitting an occasional sigh or
moan.

She’s mine again. I’ll never let her go, no matter what.

“I love you so
much,” he murmured as his hands wandered over her body.

“I love you, body and
soul. Grant, say you’ll never leave me…never let me go.”

“Never, sweetheart,
never.” He helped her to mount him, and when he was inside her, he groaned.

Closing his long
fingers around her hips, he moved her up and down in an easy rhythm.

“More…more,” she whispered
in a hoarse voice.

He increased the
pace until they both reached nirvana at the same time. Cara collapsed onto his
chest, and he stroked her back.

“When the show is
over, we’ll have another baby?” She combed her fingers through his thick, dark
hair.

“Another child?
Heaven,” he murmured.

He helped Cara
dismount and got her settled as
comfortably
as
possible under the circumstances before he pushed up and out of the bed. The window
had been cracked open, and he moved over to close it on the nippy, November
evening.

Standing naked by
the casement in the darkened room, he looked down upon the lights of the city,
cars and taxis rushing about. People walking with their heads bowed against a
cold wind. Across the street, he saw the metal bleachers for the Macy’s
Thanksgiving Day Parade.

His mind wandered
back to another night when he stood naked by the window. The night before Cara
left him to seek her fortune in movies. He remembered how restless and unhappy
he had been. A grin spread across his face.
I’m
the luckiest man on Earth. My memories of the greatest love I’ve known have
become reality again.

Cara’s even
breathing indicated she was asleep. He slipped into bed, settling himself next
to her. She mumbled something as she moved up against him. He released a sigh
of contentment and closed his eyes to rest up for another day of living his
dream.

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