Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (23 page)

Still seated in his chair, with his back turned, the door ticked opened… and then closed.

Their relationship had never had a chance of surviving. Michelle had merely hammered the final nails into the coffin. He dropped his chin to his chest. Took a series of deep breaths to steady his heart, which was no longer in his gut, but back where it belonged. This day was destined to occur. He fully accepted the blame. There was nothing he could do to change it, though. He’d given his heart a lifetime ago. It wasn’t up for grabs.

He would be alone now. He’d resisted this, feared the desolation. But that was his reality.

His stomach growled again.

He got up to make a sandwich.

“Those are truly excellent shoes!”

Allie grinned, brushed crumbs from her lips. How typical of Reese to gush over designer footwear. Allie lifted her cardboard cup to sip fragrant chai, replaced it on the varnished table. Music drifted from overhead—something New Age that at this very moment got points for soothing away the last of the morning’s stresses. Her final counseling session with Doctor Baker—a stint that left her surprisingly introspective—was behind her. As was an emotionally wrenching visit with Ben. Reese’s call for a spur-of-the-moment round of shoe therapy just as she left the cemetery seemed like a sign.

“Perfect for a night on the town.”

Allie pushed away the remains of her snack, dug the shoe box from her shopping bag. “They are fantastic, aren’t they?” She grinned, caressed the heel of silver metallic peep toes with a pretty little bow at the back. “Not Manolos, but hey.” She nodded pointedly at her friend’s stilettos.

Reese stuck out her foot, gave her ankle a twist. “Mmm. Last year’s.”

Flipping the shoe back and forth, Allie studied her new pump before tucking it away. “I have no idea when I’ll wear them. But I haven’t bought a great pair of shoes since before Ben died.”

“Any self-respecting girl cannot go three years without splurging. Pretty sure there’s a law.”

Allie bent to stow the box. They
were
pretty great, even if they’d just gather dust in her closet. “Now you’re the shoe police.”

Reese chuffed out a laugh, tilted her head back, finished off her decaf skinny latte with a grimace. “Isn’t it about time you joined the world again, Allie? Midgets and teenagers are all well and good, but it’s time to do something grown-up. Wear the shoes.”

As much as her chest tightened, trapping her breaths, she’d had similar thoughts lately. Could she go through with it? She lifted her gaze. “Reese –”

“Okay, don’t panic.” Reese threw out a hand, covered hers. “What about ladies’ night? Pretty dresses. Girly cocktails.” A finger sporting a blood-red nail waggled at her shopping bag. “Killer shoes.”

Her spirits just lifted. She’d survived a crap morning. Trey was gone and she hadn’t fallen apart. Everything else was cake. Dinner, a couple of cosmos—yeah, appealing. Her teasing smile came naturally. “I guess you make a pretty good date.”

Reese’s thoughtful frown was not the reaction she expected. “Or you could save them for a real date.”

She blinked, her smile flattened out. “What? What date?”

“I thought you and Jake might be—” With a flick of her wrist, Reese left the end of her sentence to dangle.

Her heart stopped. Then restarted in double-time. Hopefully Reese would take her silence for anything—
anything
—other than this mysterious panic roiling through her.

“Close your mouth.” Reese reached across the table, tipped up her jaw with two fingers. “You can certainly understand why I’d ask. He spends half his time at your house.”

“He was Ben’s best friend, Reese. His business partner. I love him like a brother.”

“Has he ever even had a serious relationship?”

“Sure. Michelle, remember? They were together until about a year ago.”

“Oh, her. Snobby bitch.” Reese dismissed her with a shrug. “You two belong together. You suit.” In Reese-world all was settled, but Allie’s heart skittered again. “I would have sworn you had a thing for him. Back in college.”

Allie jittered out a shaky laugh. “Your imagination knows no bounds.” No way would she admit that to Reese. She’d gnaw on it like a hound with a soup bone. “Jake and I have been friends for almost twenty years. Just friends.”

“Hel-lo. Are you two the only ones that
don’t
see it?”

A dark-haired woman walked past their table to the front counter. Beside her was a young girl, perhaps eleven or twelve, quite clearly arguing with the woman—with her hands. Compassion came over her in a rush. Such a brave young girl.

She turned back to Reese and blinked. “See what?”

“Sparks? Fireworks? Rockets’ red glare? Any of this sound familiar?”

Allie laughed at her friend. “I love you, Reese, but you’re crazy.”

“Huh. I would have sworn.” Her voice trailed away before she brightened. “Then how about the principal from my school? His wife divorced him a couple of years ago. He’s a nice guy. Not too hard to look at either.” Reese raised her eyebrows and added a wink, a steamroller with a boring, drab life directly in its path.

The woman and girl stepped to the pick-up counter, their backs to the room. The barista handed them their drinks—Frappuccinos for each of them. The girl politely signed what she assumed was thanks. Turning toward the exit, they again passed her table, the girl smiling shyly as she scampered by with a plastic cup in her hand.

She seemed familiar somehow. Allie eyed the woman. Did she know her? The woman seemed vaguely familiar also, perhaps someone she knew long ago. What name did the barista call? Maggie, that was it. Didn’t ring any bells.

Oh, jeez. Reese was still wound up.

“It’s time to dive back into that proverbial dating pool. At least dip a toe.”

Butterflies took up residence with the raspberry scone. Was she ready for this? Whatever happened to ladies night out? But maybe if she agreed Reese would get off her back about Jake.
She carefully framed her response. “It might be nice to meet someone new.”

“Like I said, nice guy. His name is Gary Benson. It will be fun!”

Allie pasted on a smile, not quite as natural or eager as before. “You’re probably right.” She checked her watch, got to her feet. She still wanted to prep her classroom for a new batch of munchkins.

“I’ll see Gary at school tomorrow, give him your number.”

Allie pumped enthusiasm into her voice. Leaned in for a hug. “Okay, fine. I’ll wait for his call.”

Allie’s phone rang as she entered the house Wednesday afternoon, her arms full of groceries. About time Trey called to check in. He’d been gone for days already. The market bags landed on the counter with a thwump as she grabbed the handset.

“Hey there, I was getting worried.” She fished out the eggs, opened the refrigerator to shelve them.

A hesitant voice answered. “Sorry, I only spoke with Reese today; I didn’t realize you were waiting for me to call.”

At the abrupt lurch in her pulse, the cardboard carton bobbled, slipped. She lunged to catch it before it hit the tile.

“Who
is
this?” She squeezed her eyes shut.
No! No! No!

“Gary Benson. Is this Allie?”

“Afraid so.” She cleared her throat and thus, the squeak. “I’m sorry. I was rude. I thought you were my son. Rather, that my son was calling. He’s away at school and I expect him to call. He hasn’t called yet.” Her voice was now her enemy. She stammered, babbled on, sounded like a complete idiot.

“So you weren’t waiting for me to call?”

The amusement in his voice made her laugh. “Reese said she would talk to you, but I haven’t heard back from her. And right now this entire conversation is feeling slightly surreal.”

“Let me make the whole thing a bit more real. Reese told you I’m divorced, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“I’m tied up this week, but would you like to do something next weekend? Lunch, a movie, a museum. Maybe a ball game. Your pick.”

“Baseball?” It was probably the doubt in her voice that caused him to chuckle. But it was a friendly sound.

“Just thought I’d throw that out there. You know, on the chance.”

Okay, she could do this. The smile in her voice was almost natural. “Tell you what, Gary, I haven’t been to a ball game in years. Let’s see what kind of sports fan you are.”

“A challenge?”

“I’ve seen grown men cry at baseball.”

“You’re on. The game’s Saturday at three.”

“Sounds good. Do you know where I live?”

“Chandler, isn’t it? Quite a bit out of the way. I’ll meet you at the stadium, by the main entrance at two o’clock. Reese showed me a snapshot of you.”

Wow!
Not even willing to make the effort on a first date? Strike one on Gary. “All right, I’ll meet you there at two.” She hung up without any of the anticipation she had three minutes ago. Was she was doing the right thing?

At two o’clock the next Saturday she paced the rotunda, scanning the crowd for a stranger. She looked as good as she could with a new green peasant blouse topping freshly pressed jeans. She checked the time. Two twenty-five and he still wasn’t there. She plopped down on an empty bench. Was anything worse than getting stood up on a blind date? He had ten more minutes and she was gone.

“Allie!”

She spun her head toward the booming voice. Found it attached to a long-legged man in jeans and a red team T-shirt jogging her way.

“Oh my God, Allie. Sorry I’m so late.” He halted beside her, waves of thick dark hair falling over his forehead. He shoved it back and uncovered brilliant blue eyes. High cheekbones, strong chin, and grooves framing his mouth that said he smiled often…
good job, Reese
! “My ex was supposed to pick up our son by noon and didn’t arrive until one-thirty. Then Corey couldn’t find his homework. To top it off, I was in a rush to leave and forgot to bring your number. I couldn’t even call to let you know what was going on.”

Okay, so everyone’s day falls apart from time to time. She gave his arm a little pat. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just enjoy the afternoon.”

She followed Gary up the escalator, located their seats on the upper deck. The dome was open today, the warm afternoon sun angling in and blinding her, but from this height she couldn’t see more than the vague shapes of the players on the field anyway. The stadium was far from full. An ex-wife must take a good portion of a principal’s salary if these were the best seats he could come up with.

She settled into her seat beside him. He seemed like a nice guy. She should be kind and enjoy what she could see of the game. But added to his request to meet at the stadium, and then his tardiness, prickles of apprehension ran down the back of her neck and had Gary teetering on the edge of strike two.

“Yo!” Gary yelled to a beer vendor, stuck up three fingers. The paper cup sloshed suds as he passed it to her. He fisted the other two, drained them, roared out a belch. Nice guy, her ass! By the fourth inning he’d downed two more beers and his comments to the surrounding fans were obnoxious. So much for fun. Her face seared, and not from the blistering sun.

Six cups were stacked beneath his seat by the end of the sixth inning, each as empty as his threats to the opposing team, and she was done. Strike three, she was out of there. She popped to her feet, the folding seat clattering shut without her weight.

“Hey, Gary, thanks for a great time, but I’m heading home.”

Her sarcasm sailed right over his head.

“Why you leavin,’ toots? Game’s not over.”

She forced a smile. His game was lost long ago. “It’s getting late. I want to get a head start on traffic.” She bent to pick up her purse, but by the time she stood Gary was already distracted by the action on the field. And here she was, worried about making a scene in the bleachers. She made her way downstairs, outside, into her car. Which she wouldn’t have if Gary wasn’t an ass.

What a waste of a perfectly good Saturday afternoon. Which was really too bad, because she’d done a lot of thinking in the past week. It might be nice to have someone to spend time with, after all. She didn’t want a long-term relationship, no. But as she hit the drive-thru for a lonely dinner, she decided a little company would have been far more pleasant.

Allie tossed her sacked dinner and purse onto the kitchen counter. At the blinking telephone message light she pushed
play
, listened while she pulled a glass tumbler from the cupboard, filled it with juice.

“Allie, I’m dying here. Call the minute you get home. With details!”

That made her laugh. Reese was a lot of things—subtle was not one. She waited for the next message to boot.

“Hey, there. Haven’t talked to you since the kid left, wanted to make sure you’re okay.” There was a short pause, then, “Bye, babe.” Her lips spread in a smile.
Jake.

The unwrapped burrito sat in her hand while she punched in Reese’s number. She took a bite and waited until the fifth ring for her to answer.

“I was about to hang up.” The glob of machaca and tortilla in her mouth was hard to talk around.

“I was watering the garden and had to run to catch the phone.”