The View from Alameda Island

by Robyn Carr

  And finally they tumbled onto the large bed and clumsily touched, caressed, kissed and eventually made love. When both of them were exhausted and satisfied, Angela gasped and said, “I think you’re lying about your chastity. That was excellent!”

  “That’s the thing about love, sweetheart,” he said, brushing her thick dark hair away from her brow. “No practice required. It’s pretty natural.”

  * * *

  Angela slept in his arms, her head on his shoulder, one leg thrown over his hip. For the first time in a long time he felt at home, at peace. He had never strayed from his vows, though he’d felt the occasional temptation, as any man would. He had exercised a lot of denial and struggled with control—hormones, that’s all it was. It was when he saw Angela for the first time after telling His Excellence that he’d be leaving the priesthood, that’s when he felt something more. This wasn’t just hormones; it wasn’t just a man struggling with his God-given urge to mate. This was perfection.

  He didn’t expect this to happen. He thought maybe someday he’d meet someone. He knew he was open to the idea when he was no longer a priest.

  He toyed with her dark hair and she stirred against him. The right woman, a woman who shared his passion for being of service, a woman who shared his faith and his drive and his love for humanity. Angela had been doing God’s work for years and in her, he would find his way. Hopefully in him she would find her completeness.

  He pulled her closer and his lips touched her brow. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “I hope I can make you as happy as you’ve made me,” she said.

  “We’re a work in progress as a couple,” he said. “Every day will be a new canvas. If you just hold my hand, we’ll do the right things. Can we get married right away?”

  “You in some hurry, Tim?” she asked.

  “It’s my nature, I think. Once I decide, I take an oath. Don’t let me rush you if you need time to think it over.”

  “Tim, I wouldn’t be here now, like this, if I were unsure. But I’d like to be married by a priest. It might be old-fashioned, but it’s how I roll.” She grinned and ran her fingers through the hair that fell over his ear. “Will we have a honeymoon, do you think?”

  “Probably not a typical one. I still have things to clear out of the rectory and I’ll have to spend a little time there, but I’m not going to stay nights there anymore. Everyone has my cell phone number. If any of my old parishioners need reassurance, I can keep appointments at the church until January first. Then we move on.”

  “Do you need my help with that?”

  “No, there isn’t much. What I can’t pack I can donate or leave with my parents. I’m going to get us a hotel room in the city for a couple of weeks. We have people to see and a marriage license to get. When we’re not busy doing that, I want to spoil you a little. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long time before we can indulge in good restaurants or things like whirlpool tubs and big showers.”

  “Good mattresses, fancy linens, hotel bathrobes...”

  “If this ever becomes too much...”

  “You’re following me, remember? I never preached in a big rich church or lived in a cushy little mansion like that rectory. How many times have you slept in your car?”

  “Not that many,” he admitted, though there were a few times in the central valley when he’d given up his lodging to someone in need.

  “It was the most wonderful Christmas morning of my life,” she said.

  “Me, too,” he agreed. He tenderly touched her cheek. “Me, too.”

  * * *

  Cassie and Jeremy were very busy the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. This was the part of the world where they’d completed their undergrad work and there were still many friends in the area. Not to mention Jeremy’s parents, a married sister with a baby, an aunt and uncle. That gave Lauren plenty of free time, which she needed, but high on her list of priorities was getting her girls together for lunch. Just the girls, no boyfriends or extras.

  Since she was fired the Friday before Christmas, she’d had a very interesting call from Sylvie Emerson. Sylvie had taken the liberty of talking about Lauren’s situation to her personal attorney, no names of course. “Call your attorney and tell her you want to contest your termination because they claimed no cause. Don’t take another job without talking to me—I have a couple of excellent ideas. But while you’re unemployed, ask your lawyer to push hard for a settlement. If you agreed to mediation, get it scheduled. Your husband has dragged this out for over six months in a no-fault state when you’re not contesting the laws. Push, Lauren. Then please talk to me.”

  Lauren said that of course she would; she would appreciate any suggestions.

  When she called Erica Slade, she had to leave a message. And, Lauren being Lauren, it was apologetic. “Erica, I’m so sorry to bother you during a holiday week, but I’ve had a few things come up and hope to discuss with you when you’re next available. I lost my job. They have no cause and it seems pretty suspicious, but I can’t figure out if there’s anyone to blame. And that’s even more reason I have to try to get this divorce settled. I have expenses, of course, that I was hoping to cover with my paycheck. I’m sorry to have to bother you.”

  It wasn’t even an hour later when her phone rang. “Lauren, I’m a divorce attorney. You think I’m not used to holiday crises? I’m afraid it comes with the territory. Everyone loses their marbles at Christmastime. Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and the Super Bowl are also bad. I’m going to take a vacation in February. Now, tell me what’s happening.”

  Their conversation was brief. Erica agreed to file a complaint contesting her termination and to start petitioning for either a mediation or date in family court ASAP. She requested the results of the audit she had asked for. “If he stalls anymore, I’ll petition the court. His lawyer knows he has to have a case to drag this out and he has no case. You’ve submitted all your statements and earnings records.”

  That had occupied her, but that was not the reason she wanted to meet her daughters for lunch. Cassie and Jeremy were going to be returning to Boston on January second. It would probably be a long time before the three of them were together again. Lauren chose the neighborhood pub she enjoyed so often with Beau and she walked down the street with Cassie, though the weather was damp and cold.

  “You know, Mom, you don’t have to send Beau home at night to protect me from your relationship. As long as I don’t hear screaming and spanking...”

  “Cassie!” she said with a laugh.

  “I’m just saying, I’m sure when I’m not in town, you have a much more interesting private relationship. I like Beau. He has a nice family. And I’m glad you found someone like him.”

  “It’s a complete surprise,” Lauren said. “I wish I’d met him after the divorce was final, but at the rate we’re going...”

  “When exactly did you meet him?” Cassie asked.

  “Back in March. On the very day I put down a deposit on the house and asked my lawyer to have your father served right before my July first move-in date. I was prepared to stay with Beth but the landlord gave me the keys a few days early.”

  “But he had nothing to do with—”

  “Of course not,” she said. “He never made any such overtures. I ran into him the first day I shopped at Stohl’s and that’s the first time he told me he lived in the neighborhood. I had no idea. I invited him over for a glass of wine and he came back the next day, without being asked, to install new locks and that camera doorbell.” She was quiet a moment. “He helped me move some furniture, hang some shelves...and he kissed me four months later...”

  “I wouldn’t say you’re rushing things,” Cassie said. “I made out with Jeremy on our first date! Made out like a rock star!”

  “I’m trying to be sensible and cautious,” Lauren said. “And so is he. He’s going through a divorce, too. The dif
ference is, he’s been separated over a year now. It should be over but...”

  “But you both have spouses who won’t let it go?” Cassie said.

  “And why?” she asked. “I don’t know what’s going on with Beau’s ex, but I do know she left him. And what’s up with mine? What does he want from me? All evidence suggests he despises me. Why doesn’t he want this over with?”

  “He wants to win,” Cassie said.

  “What would he win? A beaten-down, unhappy woman?”

  “I didn’t say it was logical,” Cassie said. The pub came into view as did Lacey’s little BMW, parked out front. “Oh good, we’re not going to have to wait for her today.”

  Lacey had herself a spacious booth and was already sipping a glass of white wine. She smiled when Lauren and Cassie came into view and that was such a relief. The girls had done well over the holidays—no squabbling, no taking sides. Of course they avoided the subject of the divorce, and for that Lauren was relieved.

  “Are we late?” Lauren asked Lacey, giving her a peck on the cheek.

  “Not a bit. I might be early. This is a great little hole in the wall. l love it. Walking distance for you, too.”

  “I love this neighborhood,” Lauren said. “I’ve been known to walk down to do a little light shopping or grab a breakfast sandwich at Starbucks or a salad right here.”

  They chatted while Cassie and Lauren looked over the menu and ordered; Cassie invited Lacey to come to Boston for a visit, though all she could offer was the couch and a door that closed. They even managed to laugh at Lacey’s complaints about Christmas with her father and grandmother. “I can’t believe you have left me to deal with him!”

  “Hold on, sister mine! You did that to yourself—you don’t want to give up the allowance and for that luxury, you’re going to have lots of family dinners.”

  “Lord, I hope not. Cassie, be a sport and make up with him! Then we’ll at least have each other and you’ll probably get back on the payroll!”

  “What have I done to you two?” Lauren said, resting her head in her hand.

  “I admit it, I’m a little spoiled,” Lacey said.

  “A little?” Lauren and Cassie said together.

  Their lunches were delivered, they laughed through lunch and Lauren felt a glimmer of hope. She’d filed for divorce right about June 28th. Today was December 28th—six months had passed and they were making crude and somewhat evil jokes about their parents throwing them into poverty.

  “Not me,” Lauren said. “I just want to live a life free of control and meanness. And I’ll help you all I can while you both finish your educations, but that’s one of the reasons I wanted us to get together before we’re separated again. I have another challenge ahead. I was fired from my job.”

  “What?” Cassie said. “You’ve been there forever! What was their reason?”

  “They said that I hadn’t done anything wrong, but they were taking product development in a new direction and my position was no longer needed. I’ve heard it said, very cautiously, that it’s not really true and doesn’t make sense.”

  “Oh Mama, what in the world!” Cassie said. “What will you do?”

  “I’ll look for another job,” Lauren said. “And I’ve asked my lawyer to turn up the heat and get your father to sit down with a mediator over the property. We need to wrap this up for everyone’s sake. So, what I’m telling you is it may take me a while before I can help you with expenses. I’ve still got my retirement funds, but I’m trying to save that for emergencies.”

  Cassie grabbed her hand. “Listen, I can do this on my own. I might run up a lot of debt but I sure won’t be the first and I’ll work my way out of debt like everyone else. Jeremy is going to earn some money teaching while he finishes his PhD. You can’t believe how many law students I know whose family isn’t able to help them at all. The only ones living like normal people come from those fine old families and—”

  “Lacey?” Lauren asked.

  Lacey was looking down at her plate. Her hands were folded in her lap and she was crying.

  “Lacey, your father will probably pick up some of your expenses since you haven’t deserted him, but if that doesn’t work out, I’ll do everything I can to at least help you. Just please be patient. I’m in a fix right now. An unexpected fix.”

  Lacey lifted her eyes and a big tear spilled over. “He did it,” she said.

  Cassie and Lauren just looked at her, confused and speechless.

  “He did it. I didn’t get it at the time. He and Grandma were laughing about how freaked you would be, how you wouldn’t know where to turn, you wouldn’t have any income, you’d be begging him for help...”

  Lauren frowned in confusion. “But how?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, not really. After a minute of not understanding what the hell they were talking about, I tuned out. I remember he said it paid to know the right people in the right places and that golf was an excellent game for all kinds of favors. That meant nothing to me at the time.”

  “That is not how my company operated!” Lauren said, realizing after the fact, she was echoing Sylvie’s words exactly.

  “I don’t know how, Mama,” Lacey said. “This is probably my fault! I should have done exactly what Cassie did. I should have told him how much I hated what he did. But I didn’t. I didn’t because I hate this divorce!”

  Lauren was quiet for a long moment. “Me, too. I waited too long. And now look how complicated and terrible it is for everyone.”

  “I couldn’t figure out why he and Grandma were so happy and laughing. He wants you on your knees,” Lacey whispered. “God,” she said, a sob escaping. “This is the most horrible thing...”

  “It’s not your fault,” Lauren said. “It’s not your divorce. It’s my divorce.”

  “Lacey, don’t let him manipulate you anymore,” Cassie said.

  “But you don’t understand. I don’t have anyone. I don’t have my sister—we’ve been on opposite sides of this. I don’t have my mother—you must hate me for the way I took his side. He’s using me, I don’t have a guy, my girlfriends don’t want to hear about it. I don’t have anyone. And I’m not in law school with some big dream. Do you know what teachers make?”

  Lauren just smiled. “It’s not pretty,” she said. “But you will always have a mother. Even when we’re on opposite sides. I don’t blame you for wanting to stay on civil terms with your father, just don’t work against me. That would be hard to forgive.”

  “But he says you’re trying to hurt him with this divorce,” Lacey said, clearly misunderstanding the terms.

  “Of course I’m not,” Lauren said. “The law is clear. Our possessions and investments that were obtained during our marriage are divided equally with the exception of personal retirement funds. Everything accrued prior to our marriage is not part of the equation. I worked at least three jobs my entire marriage. I cleaned, cared for the children, took care of your father’s needs—professional and personal—and then held down a full-time job. Your father never volunteered in your school, never cleaned the house, never went to the grocery store, doesn’t know where the dry cleaner is, gave me lists of chores to do for him or things to buy for him, and my paycheck went into the joint account. Lacey, I don’t want to hurt him, even though there’s an argument that he deserves to be hurt. All I want is my life back.”

  Lacey was quiet for a moment, then she said, “I don’t think he’s going to make that easy.”

  “Sweetheart, I knew that before we’d been married a year.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  On January eighth Beau took Lauren with him to a wedding in a small Catholic church on the outskirts of Oakland. Beau was going to stand as best man for Tim Bradbury. It was supposed to be a very small, private affair but by the time Tim and Angela included their families, small was impossible. Angela lost control of the weddi
ng early on as her mother, aunts, grandparents, siblings and cousins took over. At the end of the day their intimate little wedding was over one hundred strong with every woman bringing covered dishes and the mariachis from a couple of towns over arrived. There was also a dance band. The flowers must have been ordered from afar, it being January, and they were plentiful. There were piñatas for the children, beer and wine aplenty and the most delicious Mexican food imaginable.

  It came as no surprise to Beau that the Bradbury family, a well-to-do professional family, blended in beautifully and had the best time of all. Beau mentioned it to Michael and Drew and they wouldn’t miss it, so they were there with girlfriends in tow. There was music, dancing, singing, laughing, toasting and toasting and toasting. Beau gave the bride and groom a roaring good speech.

  “I don’t think any couple I’ve ever met has been more married,” Lauren said. “They really know how to do it right.”

  “Did you have a big wedding?” he asked her.

  “Of course,” she said. “It wasn’t a fun wedding, however. It was prim, proper and stick-up-your-butt boring.”

  Beau erupted with laughter, then grabbed her in his arms and spun her around the dance floor—the church basement—one more time. It was after midnight when a limo ordered by Tim’s father arrived at the little church and whisked Tim and Angela away, back to the city where they’d been staying.

  And Beau took Lauren back to her house where they stumbled into her bedroom, peeling off clothes along the way, their lips locked together the whole time. Within seconds they were on the bed, naked, holding on to each other. The moment Beau touched her, she opened to him like a beautiful flower and he filled her with all his love and lust. Her skin, so soft and perfect to his touch, grew warm and supple and her hips moved beneath him.