Soulmates (8 page)

“I did your veranda. It’s been a while, over fifteen years,” he said.

“Oh dear, it’s been longer than that,” she said. “Of course, John. I thought we’d already met, but my mind was not cooperating.”

“When you booked the appointment, I recognized the address. Thank you for calling again.”

John Zapelli was divorced, two years now, and ready for a relationship again. When Cassandra left, he thought he’d die. The children kept him going. Grown and on their own, except for Violet who had just moved home again, they seemed to need him more now that their mother was off doing her own thing. The effort he made was for them.

Every Sunday they got together at each other’s houses for lunch. Last Sunday, Violet said something about him joining a dating site.

“Dad it’s the only way you’ll meet anyone. When do you go out? You have your groceries delivered, so you can’t even do the Friday night grocery store thing. The internet is your last resort.” He’d agreed to do it when he had time.

Meeting someone on the job was never something he thought would be a possibility. He knew of the Smith’s and remembered when Jack Smith died because it was all over the papers. And then when the son was murdered, interest in the family was renewed for a brief time. It touched his heart that she’d recently lost a child and he tried to keep his face expressionless, knowing his emotions would surface if he weren't careful.

“It’s a kitchen remodel you’re going for, is that correct?”

“Yes, I have a very short window of time to do the work. It might sound unreasonable; my mother and mother-in-law are on a cruise for a couple of weeks so I thought I’d have it done while they’re away. I like the floor plan, so new surfaces and appliances should do it for me.” He followed her into the vast space and chuckled at the time constraints. She turned to look at him.

“Anything’s possible,” he said, smiling. “The cabinets were top of the line when they were new, just need refinishing,
if
I can find someone to do it right away. What did you have in mind for countertops?”

“I was thinking quartz or marble. I’m tired of the granite and it’s tired of me.”

“Ha!” he started laughing. “Well, that might tack time onto the project, just so you know.” He was measuring and jotting down notes. Looking out at the view, he whistled. “Wow, that’s amazing.”

“Do you live here in town?” Pam asked.

“I do, actually I live on a canal. But there is nothing like an ocean view. This wall,” he pointed to the wall between the den and the kitchen. “What’s on the other side of it?”

“Just a den with fireplace,” she answered, walking to the doorway. He followed her in, looking around, impressed.

“Boy, this woodwork is exquisite. Did you ever think of tearing down the wall? You’d have to make a decision about your kitchen cabinets, of course. Antique white might look okay with all this dark wood.”

“You mean, make it one big space? I don’t know. I’ve never been much for the open floor plan.”

“Me neither, but if you ever sell, it’s what all the buyers want now days.”

“I hope I never have to leave here,” Pam said passionately, embarrassed she felt the need to share that with a stranger.

“If I had this place, I wouldn’t leave either. It’s amazing. How’s the veranda working for you?”

“The veranda? Oh my, it’s the best place in the house. Come out with me. I’ve had it enclosed in the past year, but it still feels open to the water.” They stepped out and the smell of the sea hit them. The sunlight dappled the water, surface calm with gentle waves lapping the shoreline.

“Wow, I remember this well. I felt like I should have been paying you while I was working on it,” he said, deadpan. She burst out laughing. It felt great to be silly.

“I hope the kitchen has the same effect on you,” she replied, indescribably happy.

“Ah, I was hoping you’d give me the job.”

“But of course! When you can start?” she asked cautiously.

“I think we can start this week if I rearrange a few things. Those counters might be a problem. What’s your deadline again?”

“Two weeks from today,” she said, looking at her watch. “They should be at sea by now.”

“I have to be honest with you. Two weeks might be a stretch. I’ll get the messy stuff out of the way ASAP, but finishing might be a problem. I’ll speak to the refinisher I was telling you about. If he can do it, we might be in good shape.”

“Okay, that sounds like a deal,” Pam said, putting her hand out. Afterward thought it peculiar that she’d offered her hand, but he took it without hesitation and gave it a good squeeze. Hoping he might hold on to it, he didn’t linger. Regrettably, it appeared he was going to be all business.

“Great! I’d like to take you to the stone warehouse and an appliance showroom. I’ll set up appointments this afternoon and call you tonight with times. Does that sound like a plan?”

“Yes! Fabulous,” she said, almost giddy. After he had left, she wondered if her joy was from getting to choose a new dishwasher or having met a great new man. And he wasn’t wearing a ring. Completely unlike any man she’d been attracted to in the past he appeared to be closer to her age. Heavier built but not portly, probably because of doing construction work, he wasn’t a gym rat either. His hair looked like he might use one of those products to
take some but not all of the gray out of your hair.
After prissy Jason, John Zapelli was a refreshing change. He reminded Pam of Jack with his subtle sarcasm and wit. And he was a professional. Although there may have been a moment when he first saw her and a second or two as he was leaving that Pam thought he was showing an interest in her, he was completely professional. Looking out of the sidelight after he left, she could see his fancy truck while he took his time walking down the path, admiring her plantings. Watching him bend over to pluck a spent blossom off a lily and stick the petals in his pocket before he got into his truck, she decided she was definitely interested in him.

Debating whether to get back into the gym habit or go for a second beach combing that day, the beach won out.

Driving along the serpentine beach road after leaving Pam’s house, John Zapelli felt a tickle of excitement in his throat. He was no Romeo, but if memory served, a woman who smiled and giggled, and was as animated as she was that afternoon might be interested in him. Unpretentious for a woman of her standing, Pam’s warmth was relaxing and her friendliness caught him off guard. He tried to remember what she was like so many years ago, but her husband’s dominating personality overshadowed hers completely. A vague memory of a very young, gorgeous blond woman in capris and high heels, holding a baby on her hip came to him. She’d aged well, but there was sadness about her in spite of her jocularity. The town gossip hadn’t escaped him, and the pain she’d gone through after the death of her son made him uncomfortable. The only tragedy he’d ever experienced was the divorce from Cassandra, and the pain of having to see her driving around town with her new boyfriend was crushing.

When he got back to his office, he set up appointments for Pam at the best showrooms around, to show her quality products but not to exploit her wealth. Set for the next day, he’d usually suggest meeting at these places, but since he wanted to spend the time with her, he offered to pick her up and drive her around. Preparing for the appointments like it was a date; he abandoned his regular denim work shirt and wore a white dress shirt, instead. Daughter Violet was on to him right away.

“Okay, Dad, where are
you
headed?”

“I’ve got an appointment with the owner of a house over on Sea View. We’re going to Ferry Stone and Marble.”

“Oh, I love that place,” Violet said. “If I ever move out, that’s where I’m going.”

“Ferry Stone?”

“No, Sea View, although I’d cover the floors with Ferry Stone,” Violet answered, laughing.

“You better make some money then,” John said, peeling an orange. “I can’t even afford it.”

“Dad, I’ve meant to tell you something about Mom. We didn’t want to upset you at Sunday lunch.” John’s heart sunk. Even though he thought he was over Cassandra, they’d been together for thirty years. Getting over her abandonment quickly wasn’t happening for him, as much as he longed for it.

“What is it?” Pausing at the kitchen sink, he suddenly lost his appetite for the orange and offered it to Violet, but she shook her head, fruit too healthy for her liking.

“She’s getting married Saturday.”

“To Mark?” While John tried to hide his sadness at hearing
the news,
Violet nodded her head. Mark Carrier, Mayor pro-tem. When the former mayor of Jamesville, Charlie Boggs resigned a year earlier because he needed a liver transplant, Mark was next in line. For the past year, the local papers were in heaven with all the latest gossip about Mark and his entourage in their hired cars, helicopter trips to Atlantic City, escorts and worse. Now Cassandra was going to marry him. John couldn’t believe it. The only good thing about it was that Mark lived in Jamesville and once Cassandra moved in with him, John hoped he wouldn’t have to see her as much.

“Well, it had to happen sooner or later,” he answered, resigned and surprisingly relieved. “I hope they’ll be very happy together.”

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replied. “It’s so over, now it’s
really
over.” He pulled Violet over to him, chuckling. “The key is for
you
not to be upset. You or the others. If that were to happen, then I would be sad. I guess you’re going, right?”

“To the wedding? Yeah, I sort of have to. The others have their differing feelings; Billy is probably the angriest. He’s pissed off at Mom, but he’s trying to find a way to use Mark to further his cause.”

“Is he going into politics?” Guiltily, they started to laugh.

“No, not yet.”

“I didn’t think so,” John said. “The last time I spoke with Billy, he had a scheme that was
a sure fire winner
. Luckily, I was out of money so couldn’t take advantage of it.”

“What about Debbie?” Debbie was John and Cassandra’s second child, a carbon copy of Cassandra, already a wife, mother and expert on relationships.

“She’s disgusted as we all are. But she's got a family and her energy is spent taking care of them. As long as Mother doesn’t try to push her around, she’ll support her.”

Looking off into space, John chuckled. This was
not
the way he thought he’d spend his
golden years
.

“Dad, I’m so sorry.” Violet felt awful about everything; her parent’s divorce, Mother remarrying, Billy’s inability to hold a job. Now,
she
was living home again, unemployed after one of the big electrical giants bought out her company. Struggling to complete her master’s in record time, she hoped she’d get another job right away.

“What’re you sorry about?”

“I know you’d sell this place if I weren't here. It’s too big and full of memories.”

“The memories of you kids are keeping me going right now,” he replied. “I never intended on selling. And you make good coffee.”

“Thirty is just around the corner and I’m living home. You should be free to do what you want without me being here.”

John frowned. “You worry too much. I wouldn’t be doing anything different if I were here alone, except maybe drink too much beer.” Violet worried about her parents when they were married. But now she focused on her dad; he was a zealous recluse, often saying his job of having to schmooze with customers was all the human interaction he could stand.

“Is this
customer
a possible date? I mean you even
smell
good.”

“Maybe. She seemed interested in me. But she's got a lot of baggage;
a lot
. Not sure I want to take on someone who has been through as much as she has.”

“Dad,
who is it
? Not Brent Smith’s mother!”

“Was that his name?”

“Dad, you need to run as fast as you can from that mess. Where were you Saturday? Some retired doctor stood her up at the altar. It was all over Twitter.”

John paused coffee cup in mid-air. “I hate gossip. And if that’s true, if she was disrespected in such an awful way, it’ll make me look better. He couldn’t have meant much to her; she seemed fine yesterday and that was only four days after.” They chuckled, and then he got serious. “How terrible for her. I read about that husband of hers. Good night!”

“Well, here’s another thing, Dad. Story is she has AIDS.”

“That’s just bullshit,” he replied. “No offense. People will say anything about a wealthy, beautiful woman.” Violet looked at her father intently. He was pushing sixty and was looking at Pam Smith with the eyes of a sixty-year-old.

“So it’s more than her being interested in you.
You’re
interested in
her
.”

“I am. We had an easy time chatting. She was funny and quick. Genuine. I got the feeling she doesn’t hold any grudges or isn’t bitter about anything, which is amazing considering what she’s been through.”

“Well, good luck. I hope she keeps you busy during the wedding.”

“Eh, that wedding means nothing to me except maybe I won’t have kept running into your mother after she moves to Jamesville.” Finishing his coffee, he went back to the bathroom to brush his teeth, again. Good breath in case they had to talk face to face was key.

“I’m headed out. Have a nice day.” Violet watched her father walk to the truck and tried to picture him with another woman. It wasn’t happening, no matter what his intentions were. She just couldn’t see it, especially with Pam Smith.

Chapter 6

Back at Lisa’s house the backyard transformation into a giant playpen, safe, secure and shaded, was her dream come true. Astroturf replaced grass; Koi ponds filled in with Koi relocated eliminated drowning concerns, and only rounded corners, nothing small enough to choke on or surfaces high enough to fall from. An old quilt spread on the ground piled with snacks and sippy cups so even the smallest child could immediately meet their own needs added to the relaxed atmosphere. Daniela loved being out in the fresh air all day, resting on the quilt until a child called out for attention. She had a big basket full of diapers, wipes, clean underpants and spit up pads. Lisa was out there, too, not one to give up the care of her children completely.