He took her hands, and when she tried to take them back, he squeezed them harder. His smile was tight, but when he spoke, his voice was steady. “I don’t believe you. If you were dating someone, you wouldn’t have gone out with me last night. You wouldn’t have made out with me last night. You wouldn’t be here with me now.”
She swallowed hard, summoning her courage. “I’m not here with you and last night was a mistake. A big one. One I won’t be repeating. It meant nothing.” She pulled on her hands again, but he held on tight. Alarmed, she looked around for help, but, except for a homeless man lying on the sidewalk, they were alone on the street. Still, if she started screaming, she was sure that someone would come out of one of the shops, rescue her, and call the police. “Let go of me,” she said quietly.
Instead, Jeremy cleared his throat. “I don’t think it was a mistake. It meant something to me. And I…I don’t think you’ve got a boyfriend. I think you just don’t want to date me.”
Ruby stared at him for a moment before speaking. “You’re right. I just don’t want to date you.” There. That was as blunt as she could possibly be. “Let go of my hands, right now, or I am going to start screaming bloody murder.”
He released her hands and smiled wide, which was not the reaction she’d been expecting. “I knew it. We’re still friends, though, right? And friends do things together all the time. We could go for a picnic tomorrow afternoon. I know this great spot—”
She shook her head. “You’re not my friend. Friends don’t put their hands on friends. Friends stop when they’re asked to stop. Friends don’t make pests of themselves, and friends take no for an answer. We are not friends. I’m not interested in you.” She put on her bike helmet again, turned away from his stormy face, and said, “Don’t contact me again.”
“Would you like a ride home?” he said.
She unlocked her bike. God yes, she’d love one from almost anyone else. Bundy, Manson…. Unbidden, she saw herself in a car, on her back, fighting off his advances. She smelled mothballs and felt the soft leather against the backs of her thighs as he dragged her panties down against her will…She shook her head, trembling. “No,” she practically yelled. She took a deep calming breath. “I don’t need or want anything further from you.” She glanced down the street towards his bike. “Besides, we both rode our…” His bike was gone. “Hey! Your bike’s gone. It must have been stolen right under our noses!” She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up and down the street. “This town isn’t what it used to be.”
His cheeks were flushed, and he wouldn’t meet her gaze. He didn’t look like someone whose bicycle had just been stolen. He leaned against a telephone pole. “Actually Ruby, that wasn’t my bike.”
“What?”
“I drove my car here.”
She shook her head to clear it. “Why would you lie about something so stupid?”
He stroked his chin with one of his hands and smiled weakly. “I know. It was stupid. But let me explain…”
She put her hand up to stop him. “Never mind. I don’t care. Good-bye.” She straddled her bike and pushed off, but he grabbed her arm, dragging her to a stop. She started to topple over, put a foot down, and came down hard on the center bar of her bike. “Crap! What the hell? Let go of me!”
He winced and let her go. “Sorry.”
Ruby stepped off her bike, went to rub her burning vulva and thought better of it at the last second. That would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull…
“It’s just that I wanted you to know that we have something in common. I really do own a bike, and I go riding all the time, I swear! I just didn’t happen to have ridden here, and I didn’t want to be penalized for it. That’s why I lied.”
Penalized? “Never mind,” she said again, as she climbed back on her bike. He moved until he was blocking her exit. “I’m not mad, it’s not even important.” She put one foot on the pedal. “I just have to go.”
His legs straddled her front tire, his hands gripped her handlebars. They were face to face. So close, she could see foundation caked in the slight wrinkles around his eyes. “I really don’t mind driving you home. It’d be faster,” he said.
She stared straight ahead and twisted her front wheel slightly, bumping his leg. “No. Thanks. I need the exercise. He stood there a few more seconds, looking her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. “You look great to me,” he said, before letting go of her bike and dramatically stepping aside.
She immediately began to pedal away. He thought she’d been fishing for compliments. From him. Gross.
“Maybe we could meet for an early dinner later.”
“Not interested!” she called, pedaling faster.
“I’ll call you!” He began to jog, trying to keep up with her. “Remember to check your schedule about the lecture!”
She stood up in her seat to put some muscle into it, and quickly outpaced him. She felt him stop chasing her as she turned a corner out of his sight. She kept pedaling like she was in the Tour de France until she’d put some distance between them.
She’d have to think about this. …Jeremy was becoming a problem.
Good thing he didn’t know where she lived.
CHAPTER 7
Ruby paid the Uber driver and tipped her generously, before grabbing her chicken nuggets, stumbling out of the car, and dragging herself up her deck steps.
She unlocked the door, dropped her backpack, and collapsed on the couch in a quivering heap. She placed her feet on the coffee table and moaned.
She really should drive over and pick up her bike where she’d abandoned it on that hill, but it was locked up. It could wait. She needed a nice hot bath.
She finished her nuggets and had just started to drift off when she remembered she needed to call the Alumni Association at Gibson State about Sean. Her eyes popped open, and she glanced at her phone. It was after two already. She should call right now.
She counted, “One, two, three…” and heaved herself off the couch, sucking in her breath as her muscles protested.
She used Duck Duck Go to look up the number on her phone, trying to work out what to say. Hell, she was a smart woman. She could wing it.
She went to call on her cell, thought better of it, and dialed the number on her disposable phone. It rang twice before a woman answered. “Gibson Alumni Association. This is Diana. May I help you?”
“Uh, yes. My name is Stacey Johnson, and I’m looking for a friend of mine. We lost touch, and I want to invite him to my wedding. I know he graduated from Gibson, and I was wondering if you have any information you can release to me to help me find him? It’s really important—”
“Sure, I’ll give you any information we have, that is, if we do have anything. We send out questionnaires to all our alumni, so they can be included in our Alumni Directory. It’s totally voluntary though. Not everyone bothers to return them to us.” Ruby’s heart sank. This was going to be another dead end.
“…fill them out more thoroughly than others, but the information’s public, so I’ll be glad to help you.” Diana said. “What’s your friend’s name?”
Ruby crossed her fingers that Diana wouldn’t be friends with him or dating him or something. Kamata was a small town. “Sean Chaplin.”
“Do you know what year he graduated?”
Ruby bit her lip. “I know he was a junior in—”
“Because I’ve found several. One is, well, he was born in the forties.”
“That’s not him.”
“I figured. I have two more possibilities—you know his major?”
“Math.”
“You’re in luck—this must be him. Have you got a pen and paper?”
“No! Hold on, please!” Ruby said, as she scrambled around overlooking things to write with. Could it really be this easy? She should have done this years ago!
“Okay, I’m ready,” she finally said.
“Let’s see. Sean W. Chaplin last updated this questionnaire alm
ost two years ago, so some of this information might not be current. Okay, his address is listed as 6409 Sunrise Avenue, Kamata, California.”
Ruby felt disappointment wash over her. She already had this address. She’d staked this house out numerous times. He might have lived there once, but not anymore. When was her luck going to change?
The woman was still talking. “—with a Bachelor of Science degree in math, and he went on to get his master’s. He lists his occupation as…teacher, and you’re in luck! He filled out the part about his family life. He’s married to a Millicent Cubby, and he’s got a little boy named Daniel.”
Ruby felt like she’d been sucker punched. He was still married? He couldn’t be! She’d known it was a remote possibility, of course, but— “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that last part correctly,” she croaked. “You said…you didn’t say he was married, did you?” Ruby cleared her throat. “And he’s got some stupid kid, um…he has a child too?”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s got a kid? You’re telling me he’s married and a daddy?”
“Yes,” Diana said. Ruby heard the new wariness in her voice. “You heard correctly.”
Ruby gritted her teeth and forced herself to write this down. She’d deal with the ramifications later. “I have another question.”
“Yes?” Still wary.
“You said he was a teacher? Does that happen to mention where he works? Is he a professor at the University?”
Diana was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, it doesn’t say. But it says he’s a teacher, not a professor, and he doesn’t list a PhD from another university, although it’s not always required. Since he lives in Kamata, I’d guess that he works in one of our local schools. If I were you, I’d start by trying his address, and if that doesn’t work, I’d start calling schools.”
“One more thing before I go,” Ruby said, struggling to sound normal. “Did he list his cell phone number?”
“…No. No phone number.”
“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful,” Ruby said. Here she was, a perfect stranger, able to get personal information on Sean Chaplin just for the asking. She had an address for him, and the name of his wife and kid. Boy, was he lucky she wasn’t a psycho.
“I hope you find him.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Ruby said, and hung up the phone.
Married. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth before unleashing a scream of rage and anguish.
She crumpled the paper and tossed it, followed by all the books on the coffee table and her bowl of multi-colored pool balls too. She threw a glass as hard as she could, and it shattered and splashed water everywhere. She tossed the throw pillows off the couch, but that didn’t help, so she began pummeling and kicking the walls and the solid front door until she had exhausted herself and bruised her hands and feet, and her voice was hoarse from screaming.
She sank down the newly dented and pitted wall, amidst the destruction, put her head on her knees, and began wailing uncontrollably.
Why couldn’t anything ever go right for her?
After a few minutes, she sat up and narrowed her eyes. That damned Millicent had been the bane of her existence for too damn long. So smug. So happy. So damn lucky. Well, that was about to change.
Ruby grabbed her keys and left the house, slamming the door behind her. She didn’t have a plan, but she was certain one would come to her on the way to 6409 Sunrise Avenue.
She got in her Mini—she really did need to get a more inconspicuous car if she was going to keep doing surveillance—and noticed the roses Jeremy had given her last night. She’d forgotten to bring them in, and they’d already started to wither and die without water.
She touched them and felt her eyes tear up again. Why couldn’t she get over Sean and move on with her life? She had been trying now for nine years. What was wrong with her?
She dabbed at her eyes. No. That was crazy talk. There was nothing wrong with her. It was Sean who was blind. All he needed was a little help to see that they were meant to be together.
She drove off in a fog and arrived at her destination automatically. It was only a few blocks away from the art store, and she had watched this house many times before.
It was a small, white house with green shutters and a white picket fence. The curtains were closed, like always. There was a newer white Toyota in the driveway. Sometimes the car was there, sometimes it was gone, but there were never any other signs of life. Just a house, closed up tight to outsiders. Ruby parked across the street and spent a good five minutes trying to figure out what to do.
She should open the mailbox to see if there was any mail addressed to Sean, but that was a federal offense—and she couldn’t afford to get caught. Anyway, there’d be no pay off. She was certain Sean no longer lived here. Maybe she should just go knock on the door? Or maybe Hilary—No. She remembered Hilary’s crack about Ruby’s obsessions, and Hilary knew about Curtis. …Or rather, she thought she did.
How could she possibly find out if Sean still lived there? She was working with two-year-old information for Pete’s sake.
She was still trying to decide what to do, when the front door opened, and a large blonde woman stepped out. Ruby’s mouth opened in shock—in all her time spent watching this house, this was the first time she’d seen anybody who lived here. The woman had a bulbous nose and ruddy skin, and she was at least sixty pounds overweight. She was dressed in blue scrubs with white nurse’s shoes and was carrying a child’s blue backpack with Elmo on the front.
Could that be Millicent? The coloring was right…Ruby stared hard, but she couldn’t be certain. She’d only seen Millicent a couple of times, but she had been much thinner than this woman was, and, though Ruby hated to admit it, she had also been prettier than this woman. She supposed they could be the same person…if Millicent had really let herself go.
Ruby rolled down her window. She would yell Millicent’s name, see if she turned around, and then duck. …That was as good a plan as any.
But then, a three or four-year-old little boy came into sight, and suddenly Ruby was certain she was Millicent, and this boy was Daniel. He looked just like Sean. He had the same shiny black hair, and he was short and slight, but his face was his daddy’s face. He was beautiful.
He should have been hers.
He hung in the doorway, wearing jeans that belled out around his skinny legs. She strained her ears and heard him whine, “But I don’t wanna.”
Millicent looked harried. “I have to work, Sweetie.”
“Why can’t I go to daddy’s house? I don’t like Mrs. Wingo. I wanna see my daddy!”
Millicent looked at her watch and frowned. “Danny, you love Mrs. Wingo. And Daddy has his own life now, but you’ll see him this weekend, same as always. But we need to go right now. I can’t be late again.”
That sounded like they were divorced! Ruby watched carefully for a glimpse of Millicent’s left hand, but she was too far away to spot a wedding ring. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her binoculars?
Danny refused to budge. “I don’t wanna go. Please!”
Millicent looked up at the sky and then grabbed Danny gently around his thin upper arm, dragged him out the door, and locked up. He kicked and screamed, but she half dragged, half carried him towards the car.
He got off one good smack to her face, and she put him down and grasped his wrists. “You do not hit Mommy. You hear?” She slung him, still wailing, under one arm like a sack of potatoes.
Millicent gave a furtive look around the neighborhood as she did this, her gaze stopping on the Mini Cooper across the street with the “Look At Me!” pink paint job. Ruby looked down and started searching through her purse. When she finally looked back up, Millicent was opening the car door with her left hand. Ruby squinted. Millicent definitely wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
Ruby put her hands up and performed a little dance of triumph in her seat. They were divorced! Ha, Ha, Ha!
Millicen
t strapped Danny in while he scream-cried, “Noooo! I want my Daddy!” before she slammed the door, muffling his screams. She straightened up, brushed off her scrubs, got in, and drove away, leaving Ruby alone in front of their house.
What a brat! If Sean had married her, Garrett wouldn’t be such a brat. No way.
Ruby stroked a dying rose petal on the seat beside her and watched the now empty house. She narrowed her eyes and grinned. Perhaps she could freak Millicent out…
She opened the glove box and took out a pad of paper and a pen, pondering what to say. With her left hand, she scribbled, “Sean: This is just the beginning. I’m so sorry I missed you! I longed to give you these in person. I’ll be in touch. All my love, S.A.”
S.A. stood for Secret Admirer, of course, but she hoped Millicent assumed they were some woman’s initials. Like Samantha Anderson, or something. Sean, of course, would get it. They had such a connection that he might even guess that she was the one who’d written it. In fact, she was almost certain he would.
She picked up the dying roses, removed Jeremy’s card to her, grabbed her own note and got out. She started to jog across the street but stopped as her sore muscles screamed. She limped over to his house, made sure there was no doorbell camera or any other cameras in sight, and placed the flowers and the note on the welcome mat. She looked around again to make sure no one was watching, then made her way back to her car as fast as she could manage.
She high tailed it out of the neighborhood.
On the way home, she picked up her bike. She had to pry the front wheel off and cram it to get it to fit in her trunk, but she managed it. Even that bother wasn’t enough to ruin her jaunty mood. Millicent was sure to be upset about the roses. After all, how could the poor woman help but still be in love with Sean? He was perfect.
…And obviously the one who’d filed for divorce.
She loved the fact that the roses were dying. That added a maudlin and slightly scary aspect to things. Sort of like gifting black roses. Millicent would wonder why her ex-husband’s new lover was sending him dead roses at his old house. She also sensed that Millicent would give Sean the note and the roses and not toss them out.
Drawn To You: A Psychological thriller Page 7