Seems Like Old Times (34 page)

Her breath caught as his arms went around her, and she
nestled her head against his. She shut her eyes, drinking in the feel and scent
of him, hoping her warmth, her touch, could help ease his pain. This was where
she wanted to be, since the day she left Miwok, months ago.
Maybe
years ago.
She didn't deny it, couldn't deny it anymore. Under her ear
she could feel his pulse drum strongly through his body.
It’s
cadence matched the own.

 He slowly led her around the room and as they passed
the lamp, he switched it off altogether.

"Just like high school," she said.

"Even better."
He
kissed her.

As "A Certain Smile" began, he lowered her to
the sofa,
then
stretched out beside her.

His mouth sought hers then he unbuttoned her blouse and
rolled on top of her. "You don't know how often I wanted to do this back
then."

"Be careful of what you hope for," she
warned,
her voice a thick whisper, her skin tingling and
alive where his fingers brushed. "It just might come true."

"If you're lucky enough."
His mouth trailed along the curve of her jaw to her throat then back to her
mouth as he took her heart, her mind, in a long, demanding kiss.

Her smile was wobbly when they both came back up for air.
"Would you like to go upstairs? You'll be more comfortable," she said.
Her hands pulled his shirt free of his slacks, then unbuttoned it and pushed it
aside to stroke the hot, muscled skin.

"Uh
uh
."
He kissed her eyelids, then her nose. "Even after all these years--this
music, and Lisa Marie Reynolds half-dressed beneath me on the sofa. God, it's
everything I'd ever dreamed of as a teenager. Almost," he added rakishly.

Her eyes widened in surprise a moment,
then
she laughed huskily. His hands surrounded the sides of her face as his mouth
lowered possessively, as if she were his girl again, as if she’d always been
his girl.

A hot, wild rush of desire swelled through her. She yanked
his shirt off, tugging at his belt as he did the same to her blouse, her skirt.

He was lifting her slip to pull it over her head when he
saw she was wearing that sexy garter belt again, and silk stockings. If he
didn’t have a strong heart, they’d be his undoing. He liked very much the fact
that he alone knew the sexiness under Lisa’s proper suit.

He drew back and removed the belt and stockings.

He took in every inch of her. She was willow thin and so
fair he wouldn’t have believed she was real except that he knew her so well.
Knew every inch of her, committing her to memory for the lonely
days and nights ahead.

He bent over her, tasting her, starting with her breasts
then working his way lower, slowly, slowly, until he shattered her world.

After a while, her eyes opened, dazed with pleasure, to
find him propped on an elbow looking down at her. "I’ve never seen you
more beautiful," he whispered.

She held her arms open for him. He held himself above her,
then
slowly lowered himself. "Look at me,
Lisa," he demanded. "Know it’s me. It’s always been me."

It’s always been you, Tony, her heart answered.
Always.

Tony's lawyer called the next morning. The judge's
decision was due in an hour, which meant that the judge felt it was a clear cut
case. But whether it was clear cut in favor of motherhood, apple pie--and
money--or of a caring, loving father, they'd have to wait to find out.

Lee stood beside Tony as he put the phone back in his
pocket. "It's coming in."

"The decision?"

"I've got to meet my attorney in an hour."

"Would you like me to go with you?"

His dark eyes met hers. "No."

"Vic, at least, should be there. I’ll stay here, in
case you two are still out when Ben gets home from school."

He shook his head. "I'm not telling Vic. I'd like to
be alone when I hear.
Just in case."
He walked to
the stairs. "If the decision is bad, I don't really know what I'll do.
Okay?"

Don’t face this alone, Tony. Please.
She was
suddenly afraid--of the outcome, of his reaction if it’s bad, of his temper,
his despair. But she said nothing.

Minutes later he reappeared wearing a gray suit, white
shirt, and yellow and gray striped tie. It seemed wrong to her that he had to
dress up and look so handsome to go hear a verdict that could rip out his
heart.

She hugged him as he stepped toward the door, and a
shudder went through her. Someone’s walking on your grave, Miriam liked to say.
Whether it was a premonition or not, she didn't know.
All she knew was that the gaze he cast on her was forlorn, and that when he
left, her heart went with him,

She called Miriam to tell her where she was, and not to
worry,
then
she sat down to wait for his return.

What would he do if the verdict went against him? It
couldn’t happen. No judge would take Ben from him. She ran her hand over the
warm red floral upholstery of the sofa.
This ranch, this
house, were
wonderful places to raise a boy. There was so much love
here,
the very walls throbbed with it.

Her love was here as well.

She'd fought it, but from the time she first saw Tony,
standing on a minuscule Little League baseball field, wearing a red Bruins and
figuring out "who's in the hole," her heart was his. It was as if
she'd never stopped loving him. That must have been why no one else ever really
mattered. Her relationship with Bruce wasn't love. It was a business
proposition. They'd used each other to get ahead.

She could admit that now. As he often said, he was one of
the most eligible bachelors around--a power job, money, youth and knock-out
good looks on top of it. People's heads turned when she'd walk into the room
with Bruce on her arm. It felt good. But it wasn't love.

Love was what she felt around Tony. Just to look at him made
her smile inside. They could talk or be silent with equal comfort. She wanted
to tell him everything she did and thought, and wanted to hear the same from
him. When he hurt, she hurt. When he bled, she bled. And when he felt joy, she
felt joy.

The way Tony felt about her...her heart told her it was a
lot more than lust, more than old times--that it was love or the next best
thing.

Where it would lead, though, was beyond her ken. She
didn’t know, didn’t want to even think about it. Tony had a strange caution
around her. He never talked about how he felt, or their future. Maybe it was
because of Ben and the uncertainty in his life. Or, maybe it was something
deeper.
An uncertainty about her.
About
their past.

What did it matter? She had her life on one coast; he had
his life on the other. She had worked too many years to become Lee Reynolds to
give it up. She loved her work. Could he leave his? Come with her? Could he be
happy doing that? Living in New York City? Going to Sissy Springfield’s
parties? She was filled with doubt, and very little hope.

Vic Santos opened the back door and walked in.

"Hello." Her tone was tentative.

He grunted in greeting. "Where's Tony?"

"The lawyer called. The decision is being issued.
Tony went to meet him."

Vic nodded,
then
turned to go
back outside.

"Mr. Santos, wait, please." She stepped closer.

He stopped and glanced back at her over his shoulder.

She lifted her chin. "I don't know what I did to make
you dislike me so much, but whatever it was
,
I am
sorry. I hope we can get along.
For Tony's sake, if not our
own."

He faced her squarely, "I've known a lot of people
like you. Everything with you is your plans, your hope,
your
dreams. But you don't give
nothing
. I'm gonna be glad
when you go back to your job. I just hope Tony can forget you like he did
before. So, no, I don't want to 'get along' with you. I don't even like
you."

He stalked out the door.

o0o

Hours passed before Tony's car pulled into the driveway. He
remained seated a moment, not moving. After a while, he slowly opened the door
and climbed out. Gone was the bounce in his step, the easy, carefree manner
that was Tony. Lee pressed her hand to her heart. She knew.

He walked into the house without a word. She could smell
the alcohol on his
breath,
see the glazed look in his
eyes. She followed him into the living room, saying nothing as she watched him
take off his jacket and tie and toss them onto a chair.

"Is it over?" she asked.

"Yes.
Very straightforward."
He stepped around her, not looking at her or touching her, and went down the
hall to the kitchen. She followed.

He opened a kitchen cabinet and took out a bottle of
bourbon, then got a small glass. "Would you like some?" he
asked,
his back to her.

She shook her head,
then
realized
he wasn't watching. "No." Her voice was a dry croak.

His hand shook as he poured the drink. He took a large
swallow then waited, still facing the counter. She walked up to him and placed
her hand on his shoulder. He flinched, and she pulled her hand away again.

"She won?" Lee asked, and yet knowing.

He nodded.

"Tell me about it."

"What's to tell?" He finished his drink.
"Ben can spend holidays with me. But throughout the school year, he's with
her."

"You can appeal."

"Sure. And listen to some other judge tell me Ben's
better off with his mother. The pompous bastard said he had to think of the
boy's future--that with Catherine he could go to the best schools and have
endless opportunities that I could never give him. He made it sound as if I
should have stayed in baseball where there were money and connections." He
faced her and the pain and anger in his face was terrible. "I willingly
gave it up to make a home for Ben. That meant nothing. All that mattered was
money, connections and the 'cultural mainstream of society.'"

She shut her eyes a moment, unable to look at the raw
agony in his. "I see," she whispered.

He slammed his fist against the counter, his shoulders
heaving with each breath. "I'm glad you do, 'cause I sure as hell
don't." His control was on the edge. His voice shook with rage and
frustration. "What more could I do? God damn all of them! What the hell
does it take to be able to keep my own son?"

She took hold of his arm, trying to get him to calm down,
but he yanked his arm away hard. Savagely, he paced back and forth across the
kitchen floor. "Not a damn thing I do matters," he bellowed.
"Has it ever? I thought it did, but I had it shoved in my face just how
wrong I was."

"It does matter," she cried, trying hard to get
through to him, past his outrage. "You've come a long way. You've achieved
many great things. And you have a boy who loves you, who'll want you to fight
for him."

"Don't preach at me!" In two steps he stood in
front of her, his face contorted. "You, of all people, know my worth--or
lack of it. You left, didn't you? I wasn't good enough for you."

She was astounded. "You were always good enough.
Too good."

"Hell!"

"Believe
me "

"Believe you, Lisa?
You?
Give me one reason why I should?" His fury raged over her, intense in its
scope and blind in its focus.
"One reason why I should
believe you, or trust you, or even care about you?
You just flit in here
for a while then take off again. When are you leaving this time?"

She pressed her hands against her stomach. "I haven't
decided "

"You haven't decided!" He gave a mocking, bitter
laugh, pacing around her like a prowling tiger. "No one else is involved,
right? No one else matters, do they? How easy do you think this is for me,
knowing one morning I'll wake up and you'll say, 'Time to be off, Tony. See you
some decade.'"

Her heart breaking, she tried again to clutch his arm, to
still his angry pacing. "I came back because I wanted to be with
you."

"Why, damn it?" He wouldn’t let her hold onto him.
Instead he pulled free and grabbed her upper arms. He walked toward her as she
stepped backwards until she backed hard against the wall. "Why? That's
what I don't get. You came because you were lonely?"

She shook her head, her arms hurting. "No,
Tony."

He leaned into her. "Because you were curious about
the kind of hell people can put
themselves
through
when they don't live the pristine life of Lee Reynolds? Maybe you wanted to see
that first hand?"

Her breath quickened. "No! Let go of me!"

"Maybe you just wanted a little stud service,
then?" He shoved her from him.

She stumbled sideways, catching the countertop, holding it
to steady herself. "Tony!" Tears welled in her eyes.

His shoulders, his entire body seemed to sag and he turned
his back to her. "Get the hell out of here, Lisa. I don’t want to see you
again. Not ever."

"You don't mean that. Not any of it."

He glanced at her. "Don't I? Years ago you walked
away, and you've never had the goddamned decency to tell me the truth about
why
.
Not back then, and not now. I kept waiting for an honest explanation. I told
myself not to ask, not to show you how you made me feel by leaving. Do you know
the hell that put me through? Do you even care?"

She felt as if all the blood drained from her face.
"I told you the truth."

"Like hell! I told you I loved you, damn it!
That I wanted to marry you.
Didn’t that mean anything to you
at all? I loved you so much I would have done anything for you. Anything! I
thought you felt the same. What we had between us--Christ, I remember being
scared half to death by it--but it was Heaven. I should know, because after you
shut me out, I learned all about Hell."