Significant Others

by Baron, Marilyn

  “Tell me about your family,” she asked. It was obvious she was eager to change the subject.

  “Well, there’s only my son. You’re not going to believe this, but he’s a professional football player. You may have heard of him. Barry Moore. What are the odds? That our sons are about the same age and both played professional sports. I wonder if they know each other.”

  Dee Dee’s eyes narrowed.

  “You know, I played a little ball myself, not professionally, but I always thought I had a talent,” I continued. “I grew up in a tough area. When I first moved to my neighborhood, you had to run the gauntlet. They’d line up about ten kids, and the youngest one was maybe five or six and the oldest maybe eighteen or twenty-one, and you had to fight the whole bunch. So I went up to the top and put up a pretty good fight, and after that I was accepted.

  “I learned how to take a knife away from somebody. How to throw somebody down. Generally how to defend myself. In those early years I was a good athlete. I played basketball for a church team because the church was warm and they gave us hot chocolate to drink. And then we’d play some softball. You’d bring a sandwich and stay all day because there was no place else to go. By the way, I had a wonderful time tonight. I don’t want to leave.”

  ****

  I was feeling trapped. I was still thinking about Daniel’s son, which was too weird to contemplate. Somewhere out there Donny had a half-brother. A half-brother he would probably love to know. Donny was obsessed with family. And when Daniel made the offer to show my son his uniform, I thought I wasn’t going to be able to hold it together. Donny would love someone to talk about the war with, especially his own father. And I had cheated him out of that.

  “The coffee’s getting cold,” I said. We sat together on the couch and he poured. Cozy. Uncomfortably cozy.

  Then he asked me to dance. He got a kick out of the piped-in music. The fates were conspiring against me.

  “Where or When” was playing, and we both experienced the strong sensation that this wasn’t the first time we’d been together. Daniel mouthed the words along with the music and stared into my eyes.

  I looked up at him and whispered the lyrics back to him. He was frowning, and seemed to be straining to remember something important. When he couldn’t, he mouthed the rest of the lyrics, about having loved before. The music was building to a crescendo that mirrored our emotions.

  “Is this music piped into the bedroom?” he asked softly, gently rubbing my back, making me go weak with those clever hands and hypnotizing me with those fathomless green eyes.

  I nodded. I was shaking, and so was he. We both knew what was about to happen. What I knew had already happened so many years ago.

  He danced me into the bedroom expertly and took my face into his hands. Then he kissed me. And I definitely remembered this kiss, this marvelous sensation. I remembered everything, the way he had touched me, the way his skin had felt under my hands. His heat. Even his smell. It was all coming back, and one thing led to another. Whether it was the music or the man or the moment, when his warm lips touched mine, I surrendered. It was more than a woman missing her husband and a man missing his wife. It was our special moment. What we shared was magical. I never felt this way when I made love with Stan. Never, not once.

  I’d fought getting close to Stan for a long time, still tied to my memories of Daniel. When Stan finally wore me down with his unique brand of persistence, he was hard to resist. You can resist for only so long a person who loves you as much as Stan loved me and loved my child. But the first time Stan touched me I nearly jumped out of my skin. He was a gentle and ardent lover, but sex with Stan was just pleasurable, not passionate. It was familiar, but there were no fireworks. I did love him, and he was a wonderful husband and father. But I was always in control of my emotions with Stan.

  It was this man I was missing and this man I felt like I was coming home to. It surprised me that I would ever feel this way again. I could almost feel the moment when the iceberg blocking my heart melted. I could hear the crack as it broke away, and I welcomed what followed with relief.

  When Daniel and I fell into bed it was like we had tumbled back in time. Only for a moment did I hesitate.

  And then there was nothing standing in our way.

  After we made love, I blushed and turned away as we listened to “I’ll Be Seeing You.” I sat up in bed suddenly and pulled the sheets around me.

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “It was wonderful. You were wonderful. And so familiar. I’m the one who has to worry about embarrassment. At my age, sometimes it’s hit or miss, I’m afraid.” Daniel smiled sheepishly and offered his familiar lopsided, boyish grin as he held me in his arms.

  “I think this time you hit the bull’s-eye.” I laughed. “You know, this is probably foolish. I’m an old woman.”

  “Well, if you’re an old woman, then I’m an old man. Are you calling me an old man?”

  “No.” I laughed. It felt so good to laugh again.

  “I haven’t felt this way since...”

  “Before your wife died?” I guessed.

  “Before I met my wife,” he answered honestly. “You know, I almost didn’t go to that dance. Your sister practically had to drag me into the clubhouse.”

  “I didn’t want to go either,” I admitted.

  “What if I hadn’t gone? What if I hadn’t met you? In one evening, you’ve given me back something I thought I’d lost. I think it’s obvious that I’d like to see you again.”

  “I’m going back to Atlanta with my daughter in the next few days. I’ve been avoiding going home, but it’s way past time. I have to get on with my life.”

  “I think there’s something good happening between us. But we need more time to see where it’s going. Will you give us that time?”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t making any promises. But I knew the answer to his question. There was no future for us. I was going home. But something was holding me back from saying the words.

  “If you leave, I’ll be on the next plane,” he insisted, sensing my hesitation. “I won’t let you get away from me. I let that happen once before. Is there anyone I have to go around to get to you? I don’t mind obstacles.”

  Some obstacles can’t be overcome. I began to cry, and he folded me into his arms.

  “Sssh, tell me what’s wrong,” he said softly.

  “I have a lot of decisions to make,” I explained. I began counting the fingers on my right hand, saying one thing, but thinking another.

  “First, I just told my son and daughter that I’m selling our family business. A man named Hammond Reddekker is offering me so much money I would be foolish to turn it down. But I can’t guarantee that he will find a place for my children.” Donny still idolizes his “dead” father. My son is entitled to know that his real father is still alive, and that he has a stepbrother. But if I tell my son his father is not dead, that he’s right here in Millennium Gardens, he will hate me forever for lying to him all these years. Donny would have his father back, but I’d risk losing my son.

  “Or I can turn down the offer and we can continue to run the business, independently.” This man has a right to know he has another son. But if I tell him who I am, he’ll surely hate me for being dishonest.

  “But if I go through with the deal, the merger, I ensure my husband’s legacy to his children. My granddaughter Hannah has already expressed an interest in joining the business when she graduates from college.” I could build a life with this man, whatever life I have left. I loved him once. I think I may still love him.

  But you never wrote, I thought. If you had written, contacted me, given me reason to hope and wait, things might have been so different for us. If I’d had the courage to fight my mother. But back then, my mother controlled my life. And I had a new life growing inside of me. The baby had to come first. I was completely on my own, with no other means of support. I needed my family, especially in those days when people weren’t so forgiving about unwed
mothers.

  Which road should I choose?

  “Tell me about the war,” I said, eager to know what had happened to Daniel during those lost years since we had last seen each other.

  “Well, the short version is, I enlisted on March 18, 1941. I was a top-turret gunner on a B-17 crew. We flew thirty combat missions. I was discharged on September 25, 1945, with a 52-20. The Army gives you $52 dollars a week for 20 weeks. I could either have looked for a job or taken advantage of the GI Bill of Rights. I never did get to college. I blew my opportunities because I was obsessed with looking for someone, a girl I used to know. Never found her, but in a roundabout way I found a career and a wife.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked evenly, hoping my voice didn’t betray my feelings. You looked for me?

  “Well, I got pretty good at digging out information, so I became a private investigator, then a cop, and then chief of detectives. I’m retired from the Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Office. Forced retirement, actually. I wasn’t ready to leave, but they have age limits. Always dreamed of going solo, opening up my own detective agency, maybe right here in Millennium Gardens. These people could use my help. I know I could do some important work here. But dreams have a way of going by the wayside. At least my dreams. And after Natalie died, well, I just didn’t have the heart to start over.”

  “Do you ever think about that girl?” I ventured, my hand and my heart trembling to finally be able to talk about our past. To actually have him back beside me. Real. Not in my imagination or my dreams.

  “All the time. She was pretty special. You remind me a lot of her, actually. I wrote her almost every day. But my letters were returned, unopened. I sent her money, but she didn’t want my money or me. And she never wrote to me. I figure she found somebody else. Somebody better.”

  Letters?

  “Her mother didn’t think much of me. I thought she might have sent back the letters without showing them to her daughter, but I was on the other side of the world. There was nothing I could do until I got home. When I finally did, years later, I tried frantically to find her, but she had disappeared without a trace. If her friends knew anything, they weren’t talking.”

  Could it be? Could my mother have done such a horrible thing? Knowing I was pregnant with Daniel’s child? Knowing how much I loved and missed him, how I pined for him, and how much Donny needed his father? No wonder she pushed me to marry Stan. To my mother, Stan represented safety, security, status. There was no question he would be a good provider for her daughter and grandson and, indirectly, for her. And Stan didn’t disappoint. He provided for all of us. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for us or give to us.

  “Did you love her?” I couldn’t resist asking.

  “More than I loved my own life. God, yes, I loved her. I was an emotional wreck the whole time I was over in Europe. I’d begun to think her mother was right. That I wasn’t good enough. That she had moved on. And then when I imagined her with another man, well, that was another kind of hell. There were times when I actually didn’t want to come back, if you know what I mean. Not if there was nothing left for me to come home to. It would have been so easy, you know. I thought about it, too, but I couldn’t risk anyone else’s life. We, the guys, were a team.”

  “Do you still have the letters?” I asked, twisting my hands around the sheets.

  “Yeah, sure, I saved them. I never showed them to my wife. But I couldn’t destroy them. That would be like letting her go, and this way a part of her stayed with me. But I had to get back to a normal type of life.”

  “When did you meet your wife?”

  “I found her when I was looking for my sweetheart. I went down to City Hall to check the records, forwarding addresses. Natalie was the office clerk, and she did her best to help me with the search. But one day, after almost a year of trying and following dead ends, she put her hand on mine and said, ‘I think it’s time to give up. You’re never going to find her.’ Her hand was warm and gentle, and she was there and my sweetheart was gone, and one thing led to another. She got pregnant and I married her. It was the right thing to do. It was too late for regrets and longing for what could never be.”

  I sighed deeply and thought back to the night before my wedding to Stan. The night when I found out Daniel was still alive. My best friend from Pittsburgh had flown down for the wedding and she was helping me pack for my honeymoon. I hadn’t heard a word about Daniel since he’d left, and when I asked my friend if she had, she hesitated.

  “Well, your mother said that I wasn’t—”

  “I want to know what you know,” I demanded, interrupting her. “Is he—d-dead?” I held my breath. I was prepared for the worst, but I had to know either way.

  “No,” my friend said.

  I could still remember the relief I’d felt. I had been certain he was dead. Otherwise, he never would have abandoned me and our son.

  “He did come to see me, asking about you,” she said. “And there was a girl with him. She was draped across his chest, all clingy, like, you know, there was already something between them. At least she wanted me to think so. And your mother had made me promise not to tell you if he should come around. She said that it was the best thing for you. That Daniel had ruined your life. And so when he did show up, I told him I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry. Your mother can be pretty forceful. And then he and the girl were obviously—”

  I broke down. That was the first I knew for sure Daniel survived the war. I experienced a range of emotions in the space of an instant. Daniel’s alive. Thank you, God, for bringing him home safely. Even if it’s to another woman’s arms. I was so happy, grateful. I had thought maybe if I flew back to Pittsburgh, if I could just reach him on the phone, tell him where I was, he’d come after me.

  But I was on the verge of getting married, and then there was the matter of that girl with Daniel. And our baby. What would Daniel think about being saddled with a baby? He’d made all sorts of promises, the kind new lovers make. We both had. But none of those promises had been kept, because the war had turned the world upside down. And I needed a father for my son. Stan had been there when I needed him. He was wonderful with Donny. Donny had really taken to him. Daniel was obviously ready to move on. So I cried myself to sleep and woke up the next morning, bleary-eyed but resigned to marrying Stan and going on with my life. I walked down that aisle with a smile and never told Stanley. I’d made a commitment to him, and I was determined to stick by it.

  It wasn’t an unhappy life. Stan couldn’t have been more adoring. Of course I loved him. I discovered just how much after he was gone. His death devastated me. But something had always been missing in our relationship. Some spark of me that I’d hidden deep inside in a place I’d never let Stan enter.

  “Did you love your wife?” I asked Daniel.

  “I grew to love her. She was a wonderful person. It was a different kind of love. She loved enough for both of us, you know. I think we can only feel one great love in our lives. And Dorothy was mine.”

  “Dorothy,” I said, holding my breath. “Was that her name?”

  “She was a beautiful girl. And she had the biggest blue eyes, eyes that were a lot like yours, eyes you could get lost in, and the biggest heart.”

  I was going to cry. I had to get Daniel out of here before he saw my tears.

  “My daughter will be coming home soon, so you’d better go,” I choked.

  Just then I heard the key in the lock and we rushed to get dressed, like a couple of guilty teenagers about to get caught in the act.

  ****

  “Mom?” I called out, walking into the living room and dropping my purse on the coffee table. “Are you home? Aunt Helene just dropped me off.”

  “Uh, yes, Honey, I’ll be right out.” I heard a lot of commotion behind the door, giggling, strange noises, and a deep, unfamiliar voice.

  My mother was coming out of the bedroom with a man, a rather remarkably handsome giant of a man. He was built like the Incredib
le Hulk. He looked familiar, but I knew I’d never seen him before. Hold on here, the bedroom? My hand flew to my heart.

  “I was, uh, just showing, I mean…” My mother sputtered, looking from the Incredible Hulk back to me.

  “This must be Max,” I said, trying to regain my composure. Well, I guess they couldn’t wait until the cruise.

  “Max?” the man asked, puzzled. “Is that my competition?”

  “No.” Mom laughed. “Max is just a man in my building, a friend I met in my bereavement group.”

  “Oh, yeah, your sister tried to get me to go to one of those bereavement meetings, but I prefer to suffer in silence. Hi,” said the man, coming toward me. My mother was obviously too flustered to make the introductions, so he stepped up to the plate. Cocking his head, he flashed me a look of recognition, and then he said, “I’m Daniel Moore. You must be Dee Dee’s daughter. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Your mother was trying to introduce us at the dance earlier this evening, but you were a popular partner. We kept missing each other.”

  I would definitely have remembered meeting you.

  “You must be the one Aunt Helene was talking about,” I said.

  “Right, that’s me, the widower, otherwise known as the eligible bachelor. You look just like your mother, by the way, except for your nose,” Daniel pointed out.

  “I got my dad’s nose,” I stated.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Daniel laughed, tapping his finger lightly to the tip of my nose, like my dad used to do. “It’s a beautiful nose.”

  Okay, this man has potential, even if he’s not Max and my mother has become a loose woman.

  “I’ve spent my whole life trying to live down this nose,” I said, crinkling it.

  “Don’t,” he said, squeezing it affectionately.

  “Mr. Moore.” I nodded to him. You two are so busted. All the telltale signs were there. Her smell was all over him. My mother’s lipstick was smeared. He’d lost the bowtie to his tux, and I was ready to bet if I were to go into the bedroom I’d find it tangled up in the sheets. My mother had taken a man to bed. How did I feel about that? How did I feel that another man had taken my father’s place so soon? A little wobbly. But Mom looked so happy, like a young girl again. Her face was flushed with that well-loved look. A look Daniel Moore obviously put there. Well, okay, Honey Palladino, you’re just being a prude. This man has put a smile back on your mother’s face. So stop being so unreasonable and selfish and, okay, a little envious.