Now & Forever 3 - Blind love (8 page)

“Goodnight. Thank you for a lovely evening,” Pat said.

Before he turned to leave she got up on tiptoes to kiss him. He
pulled her into his arms, kissing her again, with more finesse, slowly parting
her lips and gently probing her mouth with his tongue. She gasped, so he backed
off, stepping back from her. Pat’s wide-eyed stare made her look like a deer in
the headlights.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rushing you, but that kiss…”

“I know. I started it. This is all so new to me…I hope you’ll
be patient with me. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed, heat evident
in her cheeks.

He smiled at her. “You’re worth waiting for, Patsy,” he said
affectionately.

“No one has called me that since I was twelve!” she said,
laughing.

“Is it okay?”

“It’s fine…more than fine,” she said, smiling.

“Goodnight,” Sam said, kissing her hand and returning to his
car.

Sam kicked himself all the way home.
Here I criticize Peter and look what I did. I rushed her! Like a bull
in a china shop, I came charging in.
He liked her honesty and her sense of
humor…her kisses and her breasts were pretty terrific. Knowing she liked Cary
Grant pleased him, although Sam suspected all women over a certain age had a
“thing” for Cary Grant.

When he returned home, Peter was up.

“How was your date, Dad?” Peter asked, turning his attention
away from the television news.

“Fine.”

“Did you score?” Peter teased, his eyes twinkling.

“If you were any smaller I’d slap your face for asking me
that,” Sam said, taking off his sports jacket.

“Why?” Peter said, feigning ignorance, his eyes wide.

“If you don’t know what’s an appropriate question for your
father, then I haven’t done a very good job raising you,” Sam said, angry and
embarrassed.

“Can’t you take a joke? You’re becoming a prude.”

“I think I’ve always been a prude in your mind, Pete.”

“So, did you have a good time?” Peter clicked off the television.

“I did, thank you,” Sam responded, calming down.

“Are you going to ask her out again?”

“Maybe. Why all the interest?”

“Simply showing love and concern for my father,” Peter said,
carrying a half-empty bowl of pretzels into the kitchen.

“You’re up to something,” Sam said, his eyes narrowed as he
unbuttoned his shirt.

“I’m interested in who is going to have access to our living
room on Saturday nights and if you’re going to be seeing Pat, then we’ll have
to make up a schedule.”

Sam laughed. “Pete, you’re something! Do you think I’m going
to be making out in our living room with Pat Weiss?”

“It’s your house too.”

“Pat has her own house.” Sam turned toward his room.

“Aha! So you
are
going to be making out with Pat, but at her house! You fell for that one, Dad,”
Peter said.

“You’re impossible. I’m going to bed,” Sam said, unable to
keep color from his cheeks.

“I’ll bet you’re a real mover with older ladies,” Peter said,
laughing.

“Goodnight, Peter,” Sam growled.

Chapter Five

Peter checked the window before sitting down to practice the
piano. Often he’d see Lara in her leotard stretching her legs at the barre.

“What do you want to hear today,” he called to her.

“How about
Liebesträume
first? Then Beethoven? The sonata you’ve been practicing?”

It had hurt Peter to play the
Liebesträume
, Bianca’s song, the first time, but now he played it
for Lara every day. It became her piece.

Sam offered to take Lara with him when he went birding. Even
though she couldn’t see the birds, she’d get out of the house, breathe fresh
air, sit in the sun and listen to bird songs. Peter volunteered to go along and
watch out for her while Sam looked for birds.

“I don’t know, Pete. I don’t trust you with her.”

“You think I’m going to seduce her in a field?” Peter asked,
raising his eyebrows.

“Are you?”

“Give me a little credit,” Peter replied, offended.

“Credit for what?”

“For thinking about something besides sex.”

“Do you think about anything besides music, art and sex?”

“I do.”

“What, for example?” Sam stood with his hands on his hips.

“Uh…uh…food! I think about food.”

“Okay, okay. But if I see any funny stuff…”

“What time do we leave?”

“Six a.m.”

“Oh my God!” Peter moaned.

“You’re coming, you said so. Bring the breakfast, since you
spend so much time thinking about food,” Sam said smiling as he went to the
kitchen to start dinner.

* * * *

The next morning at five forty-five, a bright-eyed Sam loaded
tired and crabby Peter and Lara into his car and drove out to a prime bird-sighting
location. Peter spread a blanket down out of the way of Sam’s birds. He brought
out Danish and coffee. Then he took Lara’s hand and led her to the blanket. She
sat down cross-legged, took a Danish Peter offered and rejected the coffee.

“No coffee?”

“Too dangerous.” She tore off a piece of the cheese Danish
and put it in her mouth.

“Dangerous?”

“Too easy to spill on myself…it’s hot. I’ve already got burns
from trying to drink hot liquids.”

“Tell me about yourself.” Peter changed the subject, sipping
his coffee.

“What do you want to know?” Lara ripped off another piece of
her Danish.

“Where did you grow up?”

“My parents owned an apartment on the Upper West Side of
Manhattan. I went to private school where I studied ballet with my regular
courses.”

“Do you like the city?”

“It’s my home. When my parents were killed, I moved into a
small place of my own. I sold it after the attack. The apartment was trashed
too.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“I can’t do anything until my eyesight returns.” Lara moved
her hands over the grass tearing off little pieces.

“Will it?” Peter tore his cherry Danish in half.

“Dr. Weiss says it will. She said when I recover from the
trauma, I’ll be able to see again. I can’t wait.” She piled up the pieces of
grass on the blanket.

“Will you go back to the city then?” Peter took a bite of his
Danish.

“I can’t stay here. My future aunt made it clear she wants me
out as soon as possible,” she stated without self-pity.

“What does your uncle say?”

“Not much. He’s done a lot for me. But he’s going to marry
Fran.”

“He can dump the bitch,” Peter said with heat.

“Doubt it.” Lara laughed.

“How about if I seduce her and then tell him?” Peter inched closer
to her on the blanket and reached out to touch her hair, but pulled back before
making contact.

Lara laughed harder.

“She’s not very pretty. I don’t think I could pull it off.”

“She’s not?” Lara shifted position, pulling her knees up to
her chest.

“You’re much prettier than she is.” Peter finished his coffee
and put the cup down.

“With these bruises? I must be colorful—flesh, black, blue,
red, purple…multi-colored, like one of the Muppets.”

Peter laughed. “Bruises fade, your beauty is here to stay.”
Peter colored at his own boldness. He picked at a dandelion growing at the edge
of the blanket.

Lara smiled.

“Did you have a boyfriend in New York?”

“I don’t remember. After the attack I lost most of my
short-term memory along with my sight,” she said, her face clouding over.

“Forget it,” Peter said, taking her hand.

Lara whipped her hand out of his and put it behind her back.
“I don’t like to be touched…surprised.”

“But before…”

“I know…that was strange.” She licked her bottom lip. “Got a
girlfriend?”

“Not at the moment.” Peter picked a daisy and took off the
petals one by one.

“What are you doing in Willow Falls?”

“I’m teaching a Survey of Western Art course for a year.”

“So you play piano and teach art?”

“Actually, I teach art first and play piano second.”

“You’re good on the piano. How are you at art?”

“Brilliant, of course!” He chuckled.

She laughed. “I never got to college…too busy dancing.”

“It’s never too late. Maybe my dad could get you some of the
college required reading books on tape?”

“What a great idea! Will you ask him for me? I hate to ask
anything more of him.” She trained her sightless gaze on the ground.

“Sure.”

“Your dad is so wonderful. You are lucky.”

“He likes you. If he was younger, I’d be suspicious something
was going on,” he teased.

Lara laughed again.

“You’re funny. I like your voice. Why no girlfriend?”

“I’m taking a vacation from women.” Peter tossed the
petal-less daisy aside.

“How come?” She raised her arms over her head and stretched.

“Need to sweep out some old cobwebs.” Peter’s gaze rested on
her chest.

“You haven’t met anyone attractive?” Lara teased, smiling.

“I guess not,” Peter stared at her breasts, pushed out when
her arms were raised.

“I’m sure you will at the university,” Lara said, folding her
arm with the cast across her chest, breaking his view.

“I stay away from students. It’s a real no-no for professors
to date students.”

“You mean, sleep with students, don’t you?”

“I guess…” Peter blushed.

“You’re embarrassed. I’m sorry.” She sat up straight.

“How did you know?” His eyes searched her face.

“I can hear it in your voice. It’s amazing how many signals
and cues I get to people’s behavior through other senses.” Lara finished the
last of her Danish.

“I better be careful when you’re around,” Peter said,
recalling how she picked up on him staring at her chest.

“Can you tell me what some of the birds look like?”

When Sam returned to the blanket an hour later, he found Lara
laughing at Peter’s funny descriptions of the birds and their personalities. Upon
Sam’s return, Peter and Lara gathered up the garbage, leftover food and
blanket. Peter took Lara’s hand to guide her to the car. Sam got behind the
wheel as Peter opened the trunk. Lara turned toward him with the blanket and
fell against him, twisting her ankle. She let out a brief cry of pain and
shifted her weight to lean against him. He steadied her with an arm around her
waist.

Lara looked up at him with her sightless eyes and he couldn’t
help himself. He brought his mouth down on hers briefly, tenderly. Lara let him
kiss her, then she pushed away from him.

The kiss was sweet.

“I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, Lara. But you look
so beautiful…”

“It’s okay…friends kiss friends sometimes. Especially when
the friend is a dumb, helpless blind girl. Chalk it up as your good deed of the
week.”

“It’s not like that. You…you…” Peter took her arm but Lara
wrenched away from him, slamming into the car.

He grabbed her before she hit the ground. Lara pushed away
from him and felt her way along the car until her hand bumped up against the
door handle. She opened the door, got into the backseat, and slammed the door .
Peter slid into the front seat next to his father.

“Brilliant maneuver, Romeo,” Sam said, then turned the key in
the ignition.

* * * *

On the outskirts of town

Rex stood in the deserted parking lot of The Wet Tee Shirt.
The sun was high in the sky at one o’clock in the afternoon. His breakfast
finished, it was time to get down to business.

“Mrs. Clarkson, your next payment is due Friday. Please don’t
be late. I’d prefer not to call Herb,” Rex said into the phone before he hung
up. Then he dialed again.

“That’s right, Miss Sands, your next payment is due on
Friday. Please don’t be late. I’d hate to call Mr. Clarkson and tell him what
you’re actually teaching his wife on Wednesday afternoons,” Rex said and hung
up.

Deena had heard about these women having a lesbian affair
from Alf Hodges, the mailman. Sometimes he’d make an unexpected afternoon
delivery and catch them practically in the act, hastily pulling down skirts and
buttoning blouses, he’d confided to Deena. He laughed when he thought of what
high and mighty Herb Clarkson would say if he knew. Deena laughed with him…all
the way to the bank.

This was a good one, a secret involving two people, double
the pay-off. Rex was collecting three hundred dollars a month from each of
them. The payments arrived at a mailbox at one of those professional mailbox
places. Every couple of months he’d move to a new location or a new box number
so there’d be no trail. And he was shortchanging Deena by forty dollars each
month, he gave her two hundred and kept four hundred for himself.

Deena came through for him and this week he started working
as the bouncer at The Wet Tee Shirt. He was making two hundred fifty dollars a
week, not nearly enough for a decent lifestyle. But he smiled to himself,
knowing that soon he’d be raking in money from his blackmail victims. This job
was merely a means to an end.
Getting
paid to gather dirt. Not bad when you see it like that.

Ah, Deena. Rex stopped for a moment, his cell phone in his
hand to think about her and her luscious body with those big breasts…all for
him. She’d caved and slept with him on their second date. Rex took her to the
fanciest place in Riverton, a town fifty miles away and she rewarded his
generosity with the best sex ever. Deena was surprisingly sweet and
affectionate in bed.

They had sex a couple of times a week at her place, because
he didn’t want Alan to know about him and Deena. Rex often took her for a nice
meal first. Sometimes he bought her a scarf or a necklace; nothing expensive,
something to keep her happy, and bought with the money he owed her.