Keeping Pace Page 11

  I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

  In the morning, I dragged myself, fatigued and bleary, through my early workday rituals. A quick shower, brushing my teeth, donning appropriate attire. Stopping by the coffee maker, already programmed to brew, was instinct. I paused, though, when I spied a glint of metal sitting on the kitchen table. When my brain finally recognized the shine from the key I’d given Josh so many weeks ago, the significance of that simple rejection sinking in, I wanted to cry.

  “Is what he did so bad?”

  I looked up from my computer screen. My eyes felt as if they housed the desert. Blinking at the weariness in them did little to help. “Who? I don’t follow,” I said to Linda.

  “Honey, you’ve been moping around here for almost a week. Whoever had put that smile on your face not long ago is the same person who’s making you lose sleep, I bet.”

  The mother-figure in my life knew me too well. Since the day of the ballgame, I’d been miserable. “Not him,” I replied. “Me. I messed it up.”

  “Oh? Care to talk more about it?”

  At last the tears I’d been holding back for so long filled my tired eyes. “What do you do when a new man makes you forget the love of your life?”

  “Patrick?”

  Linda fished a tissue from somewhere. I don’t know where. Gratitude filled me when I took it to dry my tearstained face. “I haven’t thought about him in such a long time. Not the way I used to. It used to be when I met a new man, I did an immediate mental comparison to Patrick. If he’s as good looking as Pat, if he’s as funny as Pat, if… What kind of person does that make me to betray him like that?” I wailed.

  She waited patiently for my sniffling to settle. Minutes passed before I was able to see her through unblurred vision. “One who’s alive.” Linda passed another tissue to me. “Your husband’s dead, honey. Did you really expect to go through the next fifty years by yourself because he was taken from you? The only way you’d betray him is if you isolated yourself in his name. He’d want more for you.”

  “But Josh… He’s not Patrick.”

  Linda smiled. The same smile given to slow children. “Of course he isn’t.”

  “And he’s young.”

  “So?”

  “Very young.”

  “And again I ask, so?”

  I blinked this time. Not because of tears hindering my vision but because I hadn’t expected the response. When I blinked again, it was to stall because I didn’t have much of a reply.

  “Does he make you happy?”

  “Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

  “Do you love him?” she asked.

  “I do.” My heart jumped a little, and I knew it to be true. Why I didn’t tell Josh in the early hours of the morning would haunt me forever.

  Linda stood. “Then I guess I’ll leave you alone to think of a way to un-mess up whatever it is you messed up.”

  I barely heard her, for I was already reaching for the phone. Tapping my foot impatiently, I strained to hear the click signaling someone had picked up on the other end. When the ringing stopped and I heard Josh’s recorded voice, my elation flagged a little.

  “Josh, please call me,” I said after his voicemail message finished. “It’s Regina.”

  I tried once more before the end of the day with the same disappointing results. Linda watched me expectantly over the hours, but I had to give her an ambivalent shrug by way of reply. It wasn’t like Josh to not return my phone call, and that he hadn’t made me wonder about his disappointment. It hurt to think he was so upset he wouldn’t speak to me.

  During the drive home, my cell phone sitting next to me, I thought about my indecisive moments over the past few weeks. How did a woman go from accidental voyeurism to finding love? I’d put any excuse available in front of me to keep from confronting Josh. He’d been honest and open with me from the very start. From the day he’d shown himself to me in an exposed moment to this morning when he’d shared his soul, his most vulnerable time with me yet. Either way it was time to stop hiding from him. Whether he chose to accept me or not, I would emotionally strip myself in front of Josh. I would tell him my fears and my hopes. And I would tell him of my love.

  I waited for hours for him to come home. Not even to my place but at least to his parent’s house. Every few minutes I stopped by a convenient window facing the street, looking for any sign of his SUV. My heart sped up with each glance because I was sure I’d see the familiar vehicle parked there and I would run to his place. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore and forced myself to sit on the couch in front of the television.

  Some inane sitcom kept me company while my impatience grew. Gritting my teeth, I blew out long exhales and inhaled deep. I didn’t want my frustration to be foremost when I finally saw him. I needed to keep my emotions calm. The ritualistic breathing, deep breaths in and out, slow and controlled—along with days of insomnia—were probably why I fell asleep.

  I awoke with a start. Some infomercial played on, my neck shrieking its indignation at my choice of temporary bedding. Every muscle in my body pinged in protest when I stumbled from the couch.

  Shit. I hurried to the window and, sure enough, beneath the glare of a street lamp, I spied the Range Rover. For a full minute I pondered going over there, despite the hour. How many times had he visited me in the middle of the night? Then again, if he was angry, the last thing I wanted to do was stoke it by being inconsiderate.

  My next choice was to wait until morning and try him then, but if he’d only gone to sleep a few hours ago, chances were good I’d still end up waking him. For everyone’s sakes, then, the best option would be to come back in the early afternoon and confront him once and for all. If I didn’t catch him then, I’d try later on in the evening, again and again until we’d spoken. He still hadn’t returned my calls, not that I blamed him, but the disappointment wasn’t enough to keep me from him.

  I got ready for work, an hour earlier than normal, and headed there. The distraction of the office would keep me from going insane as the seconds crawled by.

  My elation during the drive kept me buoyed for a boring workday, even one that would be cut short when I left early. I’d slept last night, undisturbed by dreams. I felt rested this morning, and the depression I hadn’t realized had been surrounding me began to fade.

  I unlocked the building, at once influenced by the silence. Something about being the only person moving, the only noisemaker, made me want to honor the still air by not disturbing it. I moved unhurriedly, glad I’d chosen sensible flats over heels. Although most of the offices were carpeted, the hallway would have echoed the staccato sounds of my shoes if I’d worn them.

  A noise from one of the offices drifted to me, and I slowed my pace. Since I’d been the one to unlock the doors, I’d been the first through the building. Right?

  Maybe it was nothing, but my gut insisted I should cautiously investigate. At this time of the morning, no one would normally be here. It didn’t mean someone couldn’t be here, obviously, but I was curious to know who could have beaten me.

  As I moved closer, the noise became more pronounced. And it wasn’t noise, at least not in the sense I’d thought of it earlier. I listened to the throaty sounds of a woman’s voice speaking. She sounded familiar, but her speech was a little breathy as if she’d just finished exercising. Her volume, and therefore, lack of stealth convinced me she wasn’t afraid of being discovered, which put my warning bells back on silent.

  “Hey—” Beth fell from my lips after I turned the corner. I’d finally recognized her, all right. Finding her sitting on a desk, a man standing between her spread legs, had been unexpected. His hand covered her bare breast, the skin turning white beneath his grip. He was still wearing a shirt, his pants bundled around his ankles, while Beth’s shirt was open, her bra pushed above her ample breasts. Whatever skirt or pants she’d been wearing were absent from my view.

  They must not have heard the start of my salutation, be
cause he continued to thrust into her while she issued commands to him, using words I hadn’t realized she knew. “That’s it. Fuck me,” she said after a long moan. “Fuck that pussy, Lou.”

  I’d almost backed away in time. Really I didn’t care if she was having an office tryst. But the moment I realized it was my boss—the friend who’d come on to me time and again over the past month—the same one who’d promoted Beth standing there, I came to an abrupt halt.

  The betrayal stung as if my face had been slapped. Heat flooded both cheeks, though, enough to make my vision cloud with anger. I stalked into the room, shaking with barely contained rage. How long had this been going on? How close had I come to resuming a romantic relationship with Lou? I’d believed him when he said he wanted something long-term. I’d almost been willing to give up Josh for him.

  Beth was young and impressionable. I could easily forgive her naiveté in sleeping with the boss. It’s one of those life lessons that isn’t fully appreciated until the repercussions come back to haunt you.

  But Lou? He’d been my friend.

  “Good morning!” I announced loudly, with enough cheer to make it seem I spoke to a room full of kindergarteners. Ignoring their frantic scrambling, I strode to the light switch and found great satisfaction in flicking it.

  “Damn it, Regina—” Lou had the nerve to sound ticked off.

  “Don’t tell anyone, please…” Beth pleaded at the same time.

  I watched dispassionately as they struggled to get their clothing back in place. Lou’s cursing and Beth’s pleading left me strangely unmoved.

  Hands on hips, I asked, “How many others are you fucking, Lou? How many women are believing the little seduction act you’re perpetrating?” I looked down my nose at Beth. “Did he tell you he was trying to get into my pants for the last couple of weeks? Guess that makes two that we know of. You should ask him how many more he’s sleeping with. And look at that…you without a condom.”

  Beth’s flushed face paled. She glanced into Lou’s angry face. “You said—” Her voice trembled.

  Still in mock-falsetto, I kept going. “I’m leaving for the day—no, I’m taking a leave of absence.” My voice hardened. “Beth can handle whatever projects I have outstanding and whatever she can’t, you can.”

  “Don’t do this.” The muscle in his jaw ticked as he spoke, and that evidence of his emotion served to ratchet my own ire.

  “Good-bye, Lou. I’ll be back. Maybe in a few weeks. Maybe in a year. Maybe not at all. Either way, you save my job for me.” I stared him in the eyes. “I hope we have an understanding.”

  I turned on my heel, not bothering to wait for his reply.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite the way my stomach churned, emotion eating me from the inside out, I forced myself to pull into a local coffee shop. Inside, people milled about, customers already forming a line, employees moving efficiently to control the tide of orders. My phone had rung twice already, and my heart fell while my anger rose when both times it had been Lou’s number on the display screen. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Cursing wasn’t a part of my everyday language, but if anyone deserved it, my boss did.

  But as angry as I was with Lou for his betrayal, I was angrier with myself for wanting to believe his duplicity. I’d let myself believe we would be good together, despite the past proving the very opposite. While Josh might be young, he’d never once made me doubt his intentions toward me. If anything, it was the way he wore his heart on his sleeve that sent me running. I’d conveniently used Josh’s age as a reason for why things couldn’t work between us, when in fact, they were working just fine. When I let them, at least.

  By the time I’d finished consuming the coffee and bagel breakfast I’d ordered, my conviction about Josh had grown until it was unshakable. The only hindrance now was my worry that he’d finally had enough, and no matter what I said, would reject me on general principle. I wouldn’t blame him. Nor would I let what we could be together go without a fight.

  During the drive home, I rehearsed the speech I wanted to give him, in between telling myself I should just go with the flow and say whatever came naturally. Maybe I’d do something in between. Probably I would.

  But when I turned down the road leading to my house, my gaze went past my home and to the house next door. The bagel turned into a rock in my stomach the moment I realized the Range Rover was gone.

  I pulled into my driveway, minutes past the time I would have normally left it for the day and tried not to let his absence get me down. I’d simply go inside, and wait for him to come home again. The car still idled while my mind instantly rejected that idea. Was I really going to sit back and wait for Josh to return, hoping he’d forgive me, hoping he wouldn’t reject my love?

  I put the car into reverse.

  Or was I going to find the man and do whatever it took to make him understand the depth of my emotion, the sheer idiocy of my earlier rejection of his feelings? I’d been hiding behind the safety of my husband’s memory, trudging from day to day through something that wasn’t really my life. Not the life it had once been. And then I’d met this man who dared to gently nudge my mourning to the background, who with ever increasing patience helped me baby-step back into a life worth living. No—he didn’t deserve to be left bewildered by my recent behavior for too long—and it had been too long.

  Thanks to a lead foot, my trip into the city took just under thirty minutes. I headed straight for the university, muttering a plea that I would spot a familiar Range Rover in one of the many parking lots. Hopeful? Yes. Probable? Doubtful.

  I used the time getting to the busy university devising a plan. At this time of day, Josh would most likely be in one of two places. If he’d gone to the library as I suspected, I stood a chance at finding him. If he’d taken a break for breakfast, my odds of finding him dropped dramatically. He ate with the enthusiasm of a gourmand, but after he entrenched himself in studies, it was difficult to tear him away. My heart placed heavy bets on finding him hunched over a book. I hoped it was right.

  Once there, I realized even finding the library would take more effort than I wanted to spare. The signs along University Drive all seemed to point in different directions to the same place. I didn’t know who designed the damned things, but if I ever found out, they’d receive a scathing letter the likes of which they’d never encounter again. How could the library be both straight ahead and to the left?

  By the time I pulled into the correct lot, something inside me was howling with frustration. My hands trembled from excitement and exhaustion, and my stomach churned my breakfast as if I’d eaten lead. After turning into a spot marked for visitors, I fought back the urge to vomit.

  I didn’t think it was a case of nerves that sent me on the brink of a ledge. No, it was the prospect that Josh might reject me once and for all that affected me so strongly.

  Dozens of students wandered past me, none of them paying me any attention. A lot of people had earbuds wedged into their ears or a cell phone in hand. A few walked while reading, somehow managing to avoid crashing into other pedestrians. All of them moved with purpose. Just like me.

  I pushed through a large glass door before being forced through a turnstile. Surrounding the turnstile, ominous and looming, stood an obvious metal detector. It gave me reason for a momentary pause, until I realized the contraption caught potential thieves of library books. I wouldn’t be forced to submit my purse through a baggage check nor have a wand passed over my person.

  “Excuse me,” a girl behind a large desk called, waving in my general direction. “May I help you?”

  There were a few people milling past me, and at first it didn’t register she’d spoken to me specifically. When I turned to catch her gaze, I frowned. “Me?”

  “Yes, you need to check in here, please.”

  Baffled, I tried to figure out how exactly she’d figured out I didn’t belong, until I saw that other people had little cards in their hands. Every person with a car
d swiped it while walking through the turnstile, while, of course, I had not.

  Blowing out a breath, trying not to focus on the fact Josh might be somewhere close by and I was being delayed in getting to him, I went to her. “Yes?” I asked, more to get her attention than anything since, for some reason, she’d chosen to start ignoring me as soon as I headed her way.

  Seconds crawled by as I waited for an acknowledgement while my impatience grew. She’d gone back to perusing a stack of books piled next to her. I shifted into her sightline.

  She looked down at her monitor. I drummed my fingers on the desk.

  Either she would look up soon, or I would lose my cool.

  Dear God, finally, she pushed a scrap of paper in my direction. “If you’re not a student, please fill this out. The fee for temporary library access is five dollars.”

  “Five dollars? For what? I’m just looking for someone…”

  Bored brown eyes rolled in my direction. “That’s fine, but you still have to pay the access fee. Five dollars today, or you’ll have to go to the Student Union and get a student ID, which is ten dollars. Your choice.”

  Scowling, I snatched a nearby pen, got to scribbling my vital statistics for her before whipping out a twenty and slapping it on the table. “Here you go,” I said with a toothy smile plastered on my face.

  She frowned this time. “Hmm…not sure if I can break that.” Her gaze moved past me, and she leaned forward, obviously intent on finding someone to assist in the financial dilemma. “There’s a Starbucks just outside to the right. If you could please ask them—”

  I leaned forward, obstructing her view until all she saw was the determination in my eyes. “Honey, keep the change.” I shoved the paper forward. “Are we done here?”