When Dreams Cross

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When Dreams Cross Page 10

by Terri Blackstock


  “Shhh. It’s just me,” he said, his voice reassuring her with tenderness he didn’t know he had. And as if the words were all she needed to defy the shadows taunting her mind, he watched her relax and resume her sleep.

  The emotion coursing through him alarmed him. Neither of us can win when we’re together. The words stabbed his heart as he realized he had gone to great lengths to convince her of that. His foolish pride, always at battle with hers, turned all his victories into self-defeats.

  But he had forgotten how strong his love for her had been.

  Frightened by the strength of those feelings renewing themselves in his heart, he slipped out of her apartment and raced home, where he knew he could isolate himself from the kind of pain that came with loving someone that deeply.

  Andi’s eyelashes fluttered, then closed again. A strange feeling of security enveloped her, and she opened them again, struggling to orient herself.

  She had fallen asleep on the couch, in Justin’s arms. He had covered her up with an afghan, but now he was gone. Had her stupid vulnerability frightened him away? Her neediness? Her weakness?

  She sat up, and suddenly she remembered why she had cried so much in his arms, why she had fallen asleep the way she had …

  Her father was dead …

  She raced to the phone, dialed her mother’s number, but got a busy signal. She had to get over there, she thought. She had to help her. There was so much to do.

  She went to the door, intent on hurrying out, but Justin was just getting off the elevator, his eyes tired and his face covered with stubble. He had never looked better.

  “Justin!”

  He brandished the bags that smelled of coffee and Egg McMuffins. “I thought I’d bring you breakfast. Where were you going?”

  “To my mother’s,” she said. “I have to help her. I have to—”

  “I’ve already spoken to your mother, Andi. She called me a little while ago. She said that most of the details of the funeral were taken care of months ago. She said she had been awake most of the night, but thought she could sleep now. She was going to take the phone off the hook. She’s okay, Andi.”

  Andi wilted back from the door, and suddenly realized how bad she must look. Her hair had not been brushed, and her eyes were swollen …

  Justin came in and closed the door behind him.

  “Thank you for … what you did last night, Justin. Bringing me home, listening, putting up with me.”

  “I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t wanted to.”

  “But you have to get ready for your trip to New York.”

  “I’m not going. At least, not when I planned. I’m staying until after the funeral.”

  She didn’t even try to hide the gratitude in her eyes. And he didn’t try to hide the emotions coursing through his. He gazed down at her, his eyes eloquent with unspoken words that she couldn’t interpret. She had been wrong when she’d told him neither of them could win, she thought as her heart ached for his touch. Right now, he was letting her be the winner, sacrificing whatever victory of his own he might have found in New York.

  Maybe it wasn’t about winning, she thought. Maybe that wasn’t the most important thing to him anymore.

  “What would I have done without you last night?” she asked.

  “What you always do, Andi. You would have been fine. You would have pulled together, and taken over the funeral arrangements, and made sure everything was done just right.”

  She sighed. “That’s probably what I should have done.”

  “No,” he said. “Your mother wanted to do it. He was her husband. It seemed important to her. Maybe it was her way of saying good-bye to him.”

  She thought that over for a moment. She had never been good at good-byes. It was her downfall. Did Justin know how she had grieved over their good-bye? Had he grieved for her?

  She had to know if what she’d seen in his eyes, felt in his attention, was something real, or something that had evolved out of tragedy. Was it sympathy? Just kindness to help her through a rough time?

  As she followed him quietly into the kitchen, she realized that her father had once come between them. Now, through the grace of God, he was the means by which they were being brought together.

  Justin postponed his trip to New York and stayed by Andi’s side for the next three days as she fulfilled the mechanical obligations of being her father’s only daughter. Distant relatives, friends, and acquaintances trickled in from all over the country for what was fast becoming a press event. Because he had lain unconscious for so long prior to his death, few of the “mourners” were sensitized to Andi’s and her mother’s suffering. No one looked past the smile on her face or the numb expression in her eyes, and talk was much the same as it would have been at a family reunion.

  But later when he was alone with her, Justin saw those ice walls melt as she leaned on him as she had never leaned on anyone before. Together, they had long earnest discussions on how to best handle the business during this time. And together they devised a strategy for dealing with the press, which had descended on them like vultures.

  It was becoming common conjecture that Promised Land would inevitably fail without the Andrew Sherman name behind it. His daughter had carried it off thus far, the pundits agreed, but the real test would come when the park opened. From where would the quality and perfection that was evidenced in his toy and computer products come? Just how strong was his daughter’s glacial constitution?

  Justin himself was impressed by her strength. He marveled at the way she seemed to stand on her own when they were in public, as if nothing had changed, convincing everyone that business would continue as usual after the funeral. He learned a new appreciation for her ability to be competent and human at the same time, but in the back of his mind he harbored the needling doubt that what she shared with him was anything more than desperation borne of deep loneliness. Their no-touch rule had been breached only briefly, and now, as she regained control of her emotions, he waited for her to give him some sign that the familiarity would not be inappropriate. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage of her now. But each time their eyes met across the room or their arms brushed in public, he sensed her longing for more, the same thing he longed for, something more than business or friendship.

  Moment by moment Andi seemed to draw on the strength that he offered freely, with silent smiles and quiet gestures. But he tried his hardest to avoid touching her, or conveying his feelings in words. Not yet. Not until the crisis had passed. Then he would see what remained.

  Two days after the funeral, Andi went back to work.

  Using business as an excuse to see Justin, she went to the sixteenth floor, through the hallways flanked by cavernous rooms full of inkers, painters, in-betweeners, and paint checkers. Other rooms occupied by camera operators, film editors, and Xerox operators led to the spacious offices of the master animators, all within easy access of Justin’s plush office.

  Making her way through boxes and misplaced furniture outside his office, Andi saw that Justin’s door was partially opened. Raising her fist to knock on the jamb, she heard the sound of voices and hesitated.

  “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, Madeline,” Justin was saying. “But I do have an obligation to her.”

  “Obligation? Justin, the merger had nothing to do with this kind of obligation. When are you going to snap out of it and realize that the funeral is over and now it’s time to move on? Don’t get me wrong, Justin. My heart goes out to her and all, but I don’t want you ruining everything we’ve built together for some overblown sense of obligation.”

  Andi took a few steps back, letting the words sink in. Obligation? They were obviously talking about her. Was that all the past few days had been? Obligation?

  The words shot like a poisonous arrow through Andi’s heart, and she turned and fled through the labyrinth of bustling activity, trying desperately to maintain her dignity, telling herself that it didn’t matter, that she did not l
ove him, that she had to prove her strength to him, so he wouldn’t see her as some broken, pathetic thing to whom he owed something.

  Determined to bury herself in her work, she spent the next few hours catching up on paperwork that required absolute concentration. But when Justin knocked on her door later and came in before she answered, the mental walls blocking thought and pain shattered, and she went rigid, inwardly groping for control. She refused to meet his warm smile with one of her own. Busying herself with papers, she asked, “What is it, Justin? I’m really busy.”

  Her words were met with dead silence. She looked up, keeping her eyes cold and distant. For a moment he stared at her. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about my trip to New York,” he said uncertainly. “I’ve been putting it off—”

  “You should go as soon as possible.”

  He hesitated again, and his face began to redden. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. What could be wrong?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m just busy,” she said. “I have a lot of things to catch up on.”

  He sat down and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Okay.” If she wanted things all business, he could make them all business. “I’ve decided to leave B.J. in charge instead of Madeline. He can answer for me on just about anything.”

  Andi stiffened in her chair and picked up her pencil again, tapping the eraser on her desk as she feigned interest in the report in front of her. “Did you decide Madeline couldn’t handle it?”

  His eyes narrowed. “No. I’ve decided to take her with me.”

  Andi’s eyes came up to his in a flash, and she fought the alarms ringing through her mind. Was that why Madeline was so worried about his obligation? Was Justin involved with her? She blinked back the mist threatening her eyes, refusing to let him see what this was costing her. “I see,” was all she trusted herself to say.

  From his studied appraisal of her coolness, she could see that he was completely baffled by her attitude. Did he think she’d fallen so deeply in love that she was blind? “She’s going to be looking for new animators while she’s there,” he volunteered.

  “You don’t have to explain to me, Justin,” Andi bit out through lips tight with rancor. “You have no …” She stopped on the word “obligation,” and rephrased it. “You don’t owe me a thing.”

  Slow, building anger seeped into his features. “What is your problem?”

  “I told you I have no problem,” she said, glancing toward the door. “Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?”

  With glowering eyes, he stared at her across the desk, giving no indication that he would move. “There were other things,” he said in a wooden voice. “But they don’t seem important anymore.”

  “Fine,” Andi said, anxious for him to leave before she imploded. “Then I hope the two of you have a wonderful trip.”

  “There are four of us going.”

  “Oh, yes,” Andi said, trying to ignore the disbelief glimmering in his narrowed eyes. “Gene and Nathan. I hope you all have a wonderful trip.”

  With deep lines of indignation and bafflement etching his face, Justin turned and strode to the door, then pivoted back to her, a look of chilling disgust coloring his eyes. “Bet on it,” he said, and then he slammed out of her office.

  Andi wasn’t certain how long she stared at the door. With fists clenched, she ordered her mind to numb her senses, but pain pulsed through her nevertheless. Just as she started to give in to the utter despair, Justin burst back through the door.

  His eyes were shooting sparks and fuming with fury, and he slammed the door behind him and went to her desk, leaning across it again. His face was inches from hers, his breath hot against her face, and she leaned back, speechless.

  “I started to leave it like that,” he said in a dangerously quiet voice. “But then I thought how the last few days have at least earned me the right to an explanation. So let’s hear it.”

  Carefully reconstructing the walls over her emotions, Andi swallowed. “I haven’t been myself the last few days,” she said in a hoarse, distant voice. Dropping her eyes to her hands, she went on. “I needed someone and you were there. I appreciate it, but I’m back to myself now.”

  A flicker of pain passed across his features. “And so you don’t need me anymore. Is that it?”

  “Yes,” she said, still watching her hands.

  A rough hand gripped her chin and jerked her face up to his. “Look at me when you say that, Andi. Look in my eyes and tell me that nothing’s been happening between us for the last few days.”

  Swallowing back the tears in her throat, she reminded herself of the words Madeline had said. I don’t want you ruining everything we’ve built together over some overblown sense of obligation. She wondered what, exactly, they had built together, and why he hadn’t told her about it in the beginning. She should have seen it, she thought, when Madeline admitted that it had been her fault that Justin had been late for the reception. Maybe she was trying to tell her something more important—something Andi hadn’t wanted to hear.

  But it wasn’t too late to salvage some of her self-respect. “It meant something at the time,” she forced out. “But let’s not blow it out of proportion.”

  “You’re right,” he bit out. “Let’s not.” Without further warning, he slammed out of her office again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Andi propped her feet on her mother’s marble-topped coffee table and leaned her head back on the Victorian sofa. Her mother sat next to her, her own feet propped up.

  “I’m glad it’s over. All those people here, trying to comfort me, bringing all that food, as if one person could possibly eat so much.” She sighed. “Why do they bring food, anyway?”

  “I guess they just don’t know what else to do.” Andi took her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “You probably did need comfort, Mom. And heaven knows I wasn’t a lot of help.”

  “I’m glad you had Justin to help you through it. I was so busy with all those people.” She laughed lightly. “It was kind of nice hearing all the old stories about your father, from people I had never even met. A lot of people respected him.”

  The Persian cat, Sheba, jumped up on Andi’s lap, and she began to pet it as she reflected on her father. “Remember the stupid things Dad would say to the cat?”

  Her mother laughed. “Yes. He’d look at Sheba and say, ‘So you’re a kitty, huh?’”

  “And he made up that silly song—”

  Together, they sang, “So bad kitty … so bad kitty …”

  They wilted together in laughter.

  Her mother’s amusement died on a sigh. “It’s good to remember the good times, isn’t it? For so long, all those memories seemed to be trapped. All I could see was how he was, lying on that bed. …”

  Andi’s smile faded to sadness, and her mother hugged her. “Oh, honey, don’t look so sad. He’s free now. We’ll see him again before we know it.”

  “I just miss him so much,” she whispered. “I wanted so much for him to see Promised Land.”

  “Well, I have my regrets, too. I wish he could have had the chance to see how good Justin was to you this past week. Maybe finally give his blessings on something he should have approved years ago.”

  Andi stiffened slightly and leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. “No, Mom, you’ve got it all wrong. There’s nothing to give a blessing to. Justin and I are just friends, at best.”

  Her mother gave her a surprised look. “Well, now, my eyes may not be what they used to be, but what I see between the two of you is not friendship. And frankly, I thought it said quite a bit about Justin that he would support you so sweetly through all this, when he had every reason to hate Drew.”

  “He was sweet,” Andi agreed. She wondered what he was doing now. Was he with Madeline, talking about his “obligations” to Andi? She hadn’t heard from him since he left, and she knew she wouldn’t. “But nothing’s going to happen with Justin and me.”


  “Never?”

  “No, Mom. Sorry.”

  Her mother dusted the cat hair off of her lap. “Well, I’m not going to give up that easily. If that young man has the sense he seems to, he won’t either. What is it, anyway? Did you two have a fight?”

  “No,” Andi said, deciding she was too soul-weary to lie. “Mom, I went to his office to see him, and I heard him telling this woman he works with that he felt obligated to me, and she was trying to convince him he had no obligation. Of course, she was right. He doesn’t owe me anything. But she seemed to have a vested interest. And he took her to New York with him.”

  Her mother caught her breath and dropped her feet. Shifting on the couch to face her, she asked, “Are you sure? Even if some other woman is in love with him, it doesn’t mean he returns it. Who is this woman?”

  “Someone who shares all his dreams.”

  “Well, so do you!”

  “Yeah, but she’s helping him work on his. It’s different.”

  “All right,” her mother said, trying to sort it all out. “But for the last few days, he was with you.”

  “But I don’t want to be somebody’s obligation, and I don’t need anyone being with me out of pity. And if he’s involved with her, then I sure don’t want to be the other woman.” Tears came to her eyes, and she fought them back, but her mother hugged her again.

  “Oh, honey. This is awful. You don’t need another heartbreak after losing your father.”

  Andi tried to pull herself together. “I’m okay, Mom. Really. And I shouldn’t blame him. It’s not his fault, really. He saw how distraught I was; what else could he have done?” Her voice trailed off, words hanging in air.

  “Come to Paris with me,” her mother said. “It’ll be good for both of us to get away for a while.”

  “I can’t leave now,” Andi said. “You go ahead. You need a vacation, but I can’t leave the park. We’re too close to getting it finished, and there are too many decisions that have to be made. Plus, Givens is probably saving his best efforts for the end. He doesn’t want the park to open. Really, I’m going to be so busy from here on out, that I won’t even think about Justin. And he sure won’t be thinking about me.” Her eyes settled on some distant spot as her mind reflected on their last conversation, the one where she’d told him she didn’t need him anymore.

 

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