Dani's head flew back and she laughed haughtily. "Yeah, me and every other girl who worked at the diner and God knows how many others. Did you think I was so stupid I didn't know?"
Michael studied Dani's face. "Is that why you hate me?"
"That, among other reasons."
"I admit I wasn't a saint back then," Michael confessed. "But the time I was with you, I was with only you. No one else, I swear." Again Michael's eyes reached out to her. But Dani only continued to stare coldly.
"Your five minutes are up."
Michael shook his head sadly. "I had hoped...," he began, but decided against finishing. "Do you mind if I call the airport before I leave? My flight is in two hours and I want to make sure it's still on time."
Dani nodded and pointed to the phone in the kitchen. It wasn't until he began dialing that she remembered the news reports. "The airport is closed," she told him from across the room. "The news said no flights in or out until the storm breaks."
Michael looked at her and a worried frown creased his face. The woman who answered on the other end repeated what Dani had said. No flights in or out until morning. After he hung up the phone, he turned and looked seriously at Dani.
"I have a problem."
"What now?" Dani sighed.
"I'm stuck here until morning and I don't have a hotel room." He looked around the living room, his eyes resting on the sofa. Dani read his thoughts.
"Oh, no. No way. You're not staying here. You can go find a hotel room." She couldn't believe he'd even think she'd let him stay.
"But the storm is really howling out there," he said, and a crack of thunder exploded as if to confirm his words.
"You got here in this storm; you can leave just as easily."
"Dani, please, be reasonable. I'll just sleep on the couch and be gone first thing in the morning. I promise you won't even know I'm here."
Dani stared at him, her expression unrelenting.
"You can't be that heartless," Michael said, exasperated.
"I don't believe you!" she spat at him. The sky outside rumbled again and lightening flashed, exposing the sheet of rain falling from the sky. Dani knew she couldn't send Miguel off in this storm, and it made her angry that she cared enough to worry about his safety. Her gaze went from the window back to Miguel, who only looked at her sheepishly, his shoulders shrugged as if to say 'What choice do I have?'
"There are blankets and sheets in the trunk by the couch," she said gruffly. "The couch opens into a bed."
Michael smiled at her. "Thank you. I promise not to keep you awake with my snoring."
Walking past him to the open platform kitchen, Dani took out a bottle of water from the refrigerator. She knew Miguel's comment was meant to be amusing, but it only irritated her. "Don't try to be funny or I might change my mind," she told him.
Michael studied her guarded expression as she stood there in the kitchen. "Don't you ever let your guard down?" he asked.
Dani slowly shook her head. "No, not anymore," she told him firmly, and then once again walked past him and flicked off the television. "I'm going to bed," she announced. "The bathroom is in the hall. Good night."
Michael reached out and touched her shoulder to stop her. It was an innocent gesture, but Dani swirled around furiously. Her water bottle flew from her hand and onto the floor.
"Don't ever touch me!" she screamed at him.
Michael pulled back in shock. It was the same reaction she'd had at Catherine's apartment. Surely she didn't think he'd ever harm her.
"Dani," he whispered hoarsely. "Why do you hate me so much?"
Dani looked at the man who had caused her so much pain for so many years and the fury inside her finally blew.
"I'll tell you why I hate you," she hissed, shocking even herself by the venom in her voice. But she was seeing red and couldn't stop herself. She had to go on, had to let out all the pain she'd been carrying for nineteen years. "I hate you for taking away my youth. For using me, lying to me, then running away when I needed you the most."
Michael shook his head, confused. "I don't understand, Dani. I never tried to hurt you."
"You did more than hurt me, you ruined my life. Because of you, I ended up a statistic. Eighteen years old, pregnant and single. But because I loved you so much, I thought everything would be okay. Then, when I showed up to tell you," Dani's voice cracked, "you were gone. You left without a word. Not even a goodbye."
Michael's eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't know," he whispered.
"As if it would have mattered," Dani spat.
"What did you do?" Michael had to know. Did he have a child somewhere that he never knew about?
"What else could I do? I didn't want to tell my parents. They would have been horrified. I used the money I'd been saving to buy a car and had an abortion." At this, tears filled Dani's eyes, but her voice continued icily. "But the so-called doctor was a butcher. He botched things up and two days later I was bleeding heavily and filled with infection. My parents took me to the emergency room and my secret was out." She looked steadily at Miguel as tears streamed down her face. "You'll never know how it felt to see the pain in their faces when they found out what I'd done."
"Do you want to know why I hate you?" Dani asked Miguel, the pain of her past now replacing the anger. "Because of you, I will never have a child of my own." With that, she turned and ran out of the room and into her bedroom, slamming the door. Michael stared after her, speechless for the first time in his life.
Chapter Twelve
Miguel sat at the bar of a small, crowded saloon in Saigon. He was on a three-day pass and spent it trying to forget why he was in this country to begin with.
He ordered another drink and turned a quick glance at his friend Billy, who was sitting at a table near the door with a young Vietnamese girl. Billy was an oversized, clumsy farm boy from the Midwest who thought himself a charmer with the ladies. But he was also tough, honest and brave, good qualities a man needed in this place and a friend needed in a buddy. Miguel and he had stuck close since being sent to the same unit in Nam.
Smiling and shaking his head at his friend, Miguel turned back to his fresh drink and took a swig. Something brushed against his leg and he looked down from the tall barstool to see a small beggar boy, one arm missing, his face grotesquely disfigured, carrying a small bag looking up at him. Miguel just turned away from the boy and he continued on his way looking for handouts. Young children, deformed and missing limbs, were all over Saigon; one of the cruelties of this damn war. Miguel, like everyone else who had been there too long, had learned to look through them and past them since he was unable to help them all.
Once again Miguel glanced at his friend, now leaning forward head-to-head with the girl. He noticed the beggar boy stopping only a second at Billy's table, then being brushed away by Billy, the boy headed out the door into the daylight. Through the light from the door opening, Miguel noticed that the bag the boy had been carrying lay under Billy's table and it took him only a second to realize what was in it.
"Billy, bomb!" Miguel yelled as he jumped over the bar for protection in one smooth motion. Other military men in the bar took cover under tables and behind the bar. So engrossed in his new lady friend, Billy only looked up, confused by all the commotion before the realization of what was happening crossed his face. He pushed the girl away from the table, but before he could move an inch, the plastic, homemade bomb below him exploded. Miguel screamed his name as he watched his friend tear into pieces before his eyes.
"Billy, no!"
Dani shot up in bed at the sound of a man screaming. Not even awake yet, she instinctively jumped out of bed and ran through the darkened apartment to the open sofa bed where Miguel was sleeping.
"Billy!" he screamed again, loud and anguished, and in the moonlight through the patio doors Dani could see the horror in Miguel's face.
Quickly she crawled into bed and held him tight, softly cooing, "Miguel, it's okay. You're home. You're safe.
I'm here Miguel, I'm here." Over and over she said this until he finally stopped struggling and grew quiet in her arms.
Dani cradled his head on her chest, rocking him back and forth like a frightened child. Still assuring him he was okay, she was there for him. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, brushing it away from his face, rocking him gently, assuring him he was home and safe. And even as he came to his senses, Michael continued to let her hold him. She was the only woman who could soothe his pain of remembering. It felt warm and comforting to be in her arms, so easy to allow her to soothe and comfort him.
After a time, still holding him, Dani softly asked Miguel, "It was the bar dream again, wasn't it?" She knew all his bad dreams, the jungle dream, the bar dream, the body bag one, each in detail from when he had told her about them years ago. She was the only one he'd ever told them to, because she had been the only one who had ever cared to listen.
Miguel nodded his head in her arms. "I should have done something," he said hoarsely. "I should have saved Billy."
"You did the best you could," Dani said softly. "No one could control who lived and who died. You have nothing to blame yourself for."
Dani sat quietly for a while longer, still holding Miguel close. She thought of his pain, of her pain and of the pain they had caused each other. "We make a great pair, you and I," she whispered, shaking her head. And then, slowly, she lay down under the covers beside him, all the time holding him close, both finally falling asleep from exhaustion. And for the first time in years, Michael slept soundly and dreamlessly, feeling safe in Dani's arms.
Sunlight streamed through the patio doors across the sleeping bodies of Michael and Dani. He stirred slowly and carefully sat up, not wanting to disturb her sleep, and was surprised to see the clock on the opposite wall read 11:00 A.M. He hadn't slept this late on a Saturday morning in a very long time, and a smile played across his lips when he remembered the last time he had slept this late. And he had woken up with the same sweet woman beside him then, only a younger version. It was like they'd never parted.
As Michael studied Dani's sleeping face, he liked what he saw. In sleep she had the softness he remembered, not the look of bitterness she had shown him last night. He thought of last night and how she'd stroked his hair and soothed away his nightmare so tenderly. She was still the same sweet person he had known so many years ago, no matter how hard she'd tried to convince him otherwise. And she must still have some feelings for him other than hatred.
"Good morning," Dani interrupted his thoughts and looked up at him through sleepy eyes. "What are you staring at?"
"The past, the present, all rolled into one," he told her, smiling.
Dani gave him a confused look.
"I'm sorry about last night," Michael told her. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You can't control your nightmares," she said softly, reaching up to touch the side of his face. The gesture was so innocent, yet sent shivers of remembrance inside him. "Just as I can't change the past," Dani sighed. "Do they still come often?"
Michael looked down at the woman who just last night had said she hated him, now she sounded concerned, like she had long ago. "Sometimes they come often, other times I can go for weeks without one."
Dani raised herself onto one elbow and looked him squarely in the eyes. "You never went for help, did you?"
"No," he answered honestly.
She shook her head and began turning to get out of bed, but Michael caught her arm and rolled her back.
"I've missed you," he said. "I really have. You were the only one who I could really talk to, let myself go with." Gently he placed his hand in her hair and slowly drew her lips to his. Barely had they touched when Dani pulled away.
"No, Miguel. Not like this. I need to sort things out first."
Michael let her go, nodding his understanding. "Do you still hate me?" he wanted to know.
Dani got out of bed and walked the short distance to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room before turning around. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I've hated you for so long that I just don't know how I'm supposed to feel anymore." Pain reflected in her eyes. A part of her felt the same warmth for him she had felt nineteen years before. She knew it was the closeness of the nightmare that had brought that back. Seeing his vulnerable side again, the side of him that was real, not contrived. But she had distanced herself from him for so many years that she just couldn't come up with an answer yet.
Seeing her standing there, looking lost, confused, no longer the sharp-tongued adversary, Michael's heart swelled with all the feelings of the past. He then remembered what she had told him last night and drew himself out of bed and walked up to her, clasping each of her hands in his.
"I'm so sorry," he said, staring deeply into her eyes.
"Sorry?" Dani looked confused.
"For you, for me, for the baby we both would have loved so much. I'm sorry I wasn't there. That you went through so much pain without me. I'm so, so sorry Dani."
Dani could no longer contain her emotions. Tears enveloped her as she clung to Miguel, holding him tightly. She had waited nineteen years to hear those words, never really believing she would. And here he was, in her arms, soothing away her tears, telling her all the while how sorry he was for all he had done to hurt her.
Michael held her close, feeling her warmth through the silk of her pajamas. All he wanted was to hold her, to ease away the pain and hate she'd held in her heart for so long. As she shook with sobs against him, he caressed her hair and held her tight, just as she had done for him the night before. He wanted to soothe away her nightmare as she had his.
Finally, eyes red and swollen, Dani pulled away. "I'm sorry, Miguel," she said hoarsely as tears still spilled from her eyes. "I just can't seem to stop."
He smiled back at her but she could see that his eyes were moist, too. He really was sorry. He'd been hurt, too, she realized.
Dani grabbed some tissue from the box on the counter and finally attempted to pull herself together. As she blew her nose, Michael chuckled a bit and sat down on one of the barstools by the kitchen counter.
"What's so funny?" Dani asked while wiping her eyes.
"I was just thinking that you're the only person who still calls me Miguel," he said. "And you know what?"
"What?"
"I like it."
Dani smiled then and walked over to the patio doors. "The storm's past," she said, still wiping away the last of her tears. "But it sure made a mess of everything," she noted, looking out at the fallen trees and branches everywhere in the streets and on the sidewalks. Already there were crews of city workers out there clearing up the mess.
Michael walked over and stood beside her. "Maybe we can do some straightening up of our own," he suggested. And Dani nodded agreement as the two stood quietly together in the sunlight.
Chapter Thirteen
Later that day, cleaned up and clear-eyed, Dani and Michael sat in a corner booth of a restaurant ordering lunch. Luckily, neither Dani's car nor the one Michael had rented had been harmed by the storm. Only a few leaves and branches had fallen, no trees. Michael had decided, and Dani agreed, to stay the day and give them a chance to talk over all the questions still between them.
After the waitress had taken their order and left them with a full pot of coffee, Dani asked the question most prominent on her mind. The one question that had been eating away at her all these years.
"Why did you leave so suddenly? No warning, no word at all?"
Michael sighed. "God that seems so long ago, yet like only yesterday. My father had a massive heart attack and died. My mother called me and insisted I come home, for good. I either had to come back and take over the family business or give up the family completely. Well, my mother could be a pretty persuasive person when she wanted to; she was a real tough lady. But she had instilled family into me, and deep down I knew I couldn't run away from my obligations any longer. Besides, I had Vanessa to consider, too." H
e watched as Dani nodded, absorbing it all, then he continued.
"I decided I had to make a clean sweep of everything, so I packed up what little we had and left." He reached across the table and took Dani's hand in his. "Believe me, I did think about you and how my leaving might affect you. But you were so young; I honestly believed it was better for us to make a clean break. I thought then you'd have a better chance of forgetting me, even if it meant hating me for leaving. You'd go off to school and eventually find someone else and do all the things you should be doing. Things I couldn't offer you at the time. If I had only known..." his voice trailed off.
"Would it have made a difference?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I was a different person then, not very reliable, still hooked on pot and suffering the aftershock of Vietnam. I really don't know how I would have reacted. And I'm not very proud of admitting that either." Michael shook his head and released his grip on her hand, grasping his coffee mug instead. Those years had been a mess of pot and booze and women with Dani being the only bright light in it all.
"But I did straighten myself out when I got back to New York and into the business," he continued. "I really had no choice but to do so, and my mother made sure of it. Then, when I saw the business as a legacy I could leave to Vanessa, that's when I began to put all my energy into it. It finally made sense to me why my father and grandfather had worked so hard. It wasn't for the money, or the business itself. It was to be able to leave the next generation something better than they had known. For the first time in my life I had a goal and a purpose that was worthwhile, and it felt good."
The waitress brought their sandwiches and left again. It was late afternoon and the restaurant was quiet. Dani stared out the large, plate-glass window beside her that viewed the busy street and tree-lined sidewalk. Everywhere there were traces of the storm, and people busy working to clean the mess up. After taking a few bites of her food, she once again turned to Miguel.
Memories Page 8