I had offered to drive, but Gavin insisted I ride with him.
“Thank you again for coming to my father’s rescue,” he said, as we approached the truck. He rushed to open the passenger door for me, when in my head I heard his thoughts. “Beautiful eyes…”
Shyness overcame me, or maybe it was the awkwardness of hearing what he was thinking. As I raised my leg to step up on the running board, the four-inch side slit on my skirt ripped to a full ten inches, exposing my thigh. It had been many months and many gallons of Chunky Monkey ago that I had last checked out my body parts. Could I possibly have developed Hillary Clinton thighs?
“Wow,” I heard him say in my head.
I felt flushed as I caught Gavin’s gaze. I couldn’t tell whether he meant that as a compliment or wow, as in I’ve never before seen a thigh the size of a ham hock!
I pinched the flap closed and hopped up into the truck. Gavin blushed as he closed the door. Once inside the truck, he revved the engine. I peered out the window at the houses on Jeb’s street. Lined with turn-of-the-century boarding houses, Valley, the small neighborhood he lived in west of downtown, was built on a large slope rising up from the Woonasquatucket River.
“So, are you from Providence?” I asked
“Yeah. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather live. It’s a great city.”
“I agree,” I said, as I caught the remarkable view across the city toward the skyline of downtown. “Does your father live alone?”
“For the past six years since he’s been back in Providence he has. He and my mom split when I was just a kid in grade school. Not long after, he moved down south to find work as a carpenter. I didn’t see him much after that.”
“I see.”
Gavin sped up to run a yellow light, while I thought about Danny from my eighth-grade class. His father skipped out on him when he was five. Danny felt that tattooing his knuckles with the glowing ember of a cigarette burned his real pain away.
“Does your mother live in Providence?”
“She died right before my father came back to live here.”
I turned to see him staring pensively through the windshield.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
I almost felt guilty for growing up with parents who were still alive and filed the same tax return.
“How about you, lived here all your life?” He gave me a quick glance.
“Uh-huh, born and raised,” I said. “I don’t live far from the city, just about thirty-five minutes or so away in Tiverton.”
“Nice quaint place. Your folks live there, too?”
“No, they live closer to town. They’re a big help, especially when it comes to taking care of my son while I’m at work.”
“That’s great you have a son. How old is he?”
“Nicholas is going to be seven in October. He can be a handful at times, but I couldn’t even begin to imagine how empty my life would be without him.”
I gazed out the window thinking back to the day I found out I was pregnant. Too anxious to wait until I got home, I sat on the toilet in the stall at work peeing on a pregnancy tester strip. When the strip turned blue, I let out a scream like a Tasmanian devil. Fendworth busted into the restroom thinking someone was attacking me. I don’t know who was more embarrassed.
“And your husband?”
I looked at Gavin as he downshifted while coming to a stoplight.
“Um, he died before Nicholas was born.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been very hard on you.”
I nodded. “It was, but I had a lot of support from my parents and my friends, especially Laura, the woman I introduced you to. We’ve been best friends since childhood.”
“That’s quite the long friendship. I take it she’s a lawyer, too.”
“Yes, we wanted to be caped crusaders and save the world from injustice. Truth is lawyers are always trying to fulfill their fantasies of excitement. It’s a job similar to that of a professional killer, but without the seemingly dangerous travel schedule and possibility of a prison death sentence.”
Gavin laughed and threw his head back, while I chuckled at how he found my silly words entertaining.
“You have quite a sense of humor.” His steady gaze at me immediately put everything back into perspective. This was no ordinary man who I’d met while out with my friends at some bar, or someone I’d had a blind date with or just some person whose father I was representing. I conjured him up in my mind while I slept and he materialized. It was almost as if he was a ghost like Matt, but in solid body form.
I turned to study the scenery and wondered what I was supposed to do now. He was alive and breathing for heaven’s sake! Not that being alive was a bad thing. I just felt as though things might have been a little simpler if I’d been pronounced clinically insane.
As I nestled back in my seat, I heard the sound of crinkling cellophane. I reached back into the crack of the seat and pulled out a small bag of salted pumpkin seeds. The red packaging with an Indian chief illustration on the front reminded me of the pumpkin seeds Matt used to eat. He’d get this quirky craving for them whenever he’d have an ice-cold beer or be in the movie theater like the time we were watching “Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery.” He laughed so hard a pumpkin seed got stuck in his throat and when trying to wash it down with a soft drink, the carbonation fizzed up and blew the pumpkin seed straight out his nose. It was definitely a Kodak moment.
“Are these yours?” I pinched the corner of the bag between two fingers and held it up as if it were a snapping turtle.
“So that’s where that bag went,” Gavin said, as he took the bag and dropped it into the cup holder between the seats.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a bag of those,” I said.
The light turned green, and he quickly shifted into first gear. “I get a craving for them every time I have a cold beer.”
I looked at him as if a beanstalk had just sprouted from his ear.
“So,” I said, wanting to change the subject, “tell me what a project manager does.”
“Well, it’s not as exciting or as much fun as being a lawyer, I can tell you that much.” Gavin lifted his foot off the clutch and pressed down on the gas pedal. His long fingers gripped the leather knob on top of the chrome stick shift that sat between us. Smoothly he shifted into second gear, and quickly into third.
“It’s being in charge of supervising the business aspect of the construction project. A lot of it is overseeing contract activities on the jobsite itself, like being in constant communication with the owner and architect. Plus there’s the estimating, budgeting and scheduling the crew...things like that.”
“Sounds like lots of things to juggle at one time.”
“Well, I’m pretty good at being organized.”
“Hmm, I’m impressed. You’re only the second man I’ve ever met who claimed to be organized.”
“Is that so?” Gavin shot me a curious look.
“I’m sorry. I meant that as a compliment.”
“Really? So who was the other guy who as you put it ‘claimed to be organized’?”
I paused and cleared my throat. “My husband,” I muttered awkwardly. From my peripheral vision, I saw Gavin nod just as I nonchalantly asked, “So, what are some of the projects you’ve been in charge of?”
“Well, with all the urban revitalization and sustainability to conserve and beautify instead of bulldoze, we restore a lot of old buildings around the city, especially downtown. You know where the old Brandoff building is located?”
“I do, it’s the beautiful four-story Art Deco building that’s now a bank.”
“That was the latest building I worked on.”
“Beautiful restoration job.”
“Thanks.”
“There’s a story to that building,” I said. “A little hole in the wall coffee shop called Hamlet’s used to occupy one of the storefronts. My parents used to bring me there in the early eight
ies. I especially remember the “coffeehouse poets.” Apparently, the owner of the coffee shop used to be the head of some Jesus movement in the early seventies. The way my parents tell it, one day the owner disappeared and no one ever heard from him again. I guess it was quite the mystery back in the 80s.”
“Interesting, I’d never heard that story.”
“You probably wouldn’t have unless your parents had frequented the establishment back then. But it is a coincidence that I’m sitting with the man who helped restore that building.”
“It is,” he said, as we merged into heavy downtown traffic. Scads of people were walking in all directions, trolley bells clanged, and traffic was heavy as Gavin downshifted. I turned to study his face. He seemed like an old familiar song.
“Hope you don’t mind if I drop you off,” he said, as he slowed the truck to a stop and double-parked in front of my office building. “I have to check on a project on Courtland Street.”
“Of course not.” As I went to open the door, Gavin caught my arm. I turned to look back at him.
“I know I asked you this that night at the restaurant, but are you sure we haven’t met before? You just seem so very familiar.”
As I stared into his expressive blue eyes, I thought, if only he knew, when I suddenly recalled the dream I’d woken up from that morning. The dream in which Matt whispered, “You’ll find me when you look into his eyes.”
“Well, we do work in the same building,” I said. I turned away from his gaze to pick my briefcase up off the floor, while hoping my confused expression wasn’t noticeable.
“Listen...” Gavin turned to look straight ahead. His left hand gripped the steering wheel, his other hand rested on the stick shift. “I was thinking that maybe you’d like to go to dinner sometime.”
“Like a date?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Well, I don’t know, I--”
“Please don’t say no. I know it sounds crazy, and please don’t think I’m some kind of stalker, but I’ve been thinking about you ever since our chance meeting at the restaurant.”
I wondered to myself what the chances were of all these coincidental things happening followed by the thought of Miss Universe from the mall. A picture of her long, lustrous auburn hair cascading down her back in a perfect U shape flashed in my head.
“I’m sorry,” Gavin said, as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I never bothered to ask if you have a steady guy or maybe your law firm has a policy about not dating clients.”
I made an indistinct coughing sound, while my fingers glided across the top of my leather briefcase. “No, I don’t have a steady guy and technically your father’s my client.”
“Great! Then you’ll consider going out to dinner?”
Gavin looked at me hopefully, his eyes searching mine, while my stomach balled into a knot. After all those grueling years of dating, meeting Gavin, which short of the day I married Matt and the day I gave birth to Nicholas--oh, and the day I discovered Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey--was extraordinary.
Blaring car horns behind us forced me to stammer out a quick, “Um, I’m sorry…I can’t. Thanks for the ride,” I said and quickly stepped out of the truck. His stare at me lingered, as I closed the door.
Once I was back in my office, I wanted to cry. All I could think about was how I’d yelled at Matt that morning he died. How could I have done that? It really was my fault that he died. I sat down at my desk and dropped my head in my hands. Granted, Matt went jogging religiously every morning, but he might have paid more attention had I not forced him to storm out of the room after shouting at him to leave me alone.
“Aubrey, what the hell!”
I lifted my head out of my hands to see Laura shoot into my office. Her diamond stud earrings caught the light and sparkled brightly against her pink earlobes.
“What is going on?” she said, as she threw her hands in the air. “You grabbed my extra pair of shoes while I was on the phone and disappeared. And what’s up with the tall, handsome guy?”
“You mean Gavin Donnelly?”
“Of course! How in the heck did he end up in your office? And where have you been?”
Laura sat on the edge of her seat, while I told her the whole story about Gavin’s father all the way up to telling her Gavin had asked me to dinner.
She collapsed back in her chair. “Fabulous! I’m so excited that he asked you to dinner so quickly.” Which reminds me,” she said as she shot up from her seat. “We have to go shopping. There’s a dress in the window of this out of the way boutique that would look perfect on you. It has--”
“I told him no.”
“What? Why would you do that?”
“Because I was having a hard time dealing with what had happened right before he walked into my office. You know how I could never remember what took place that morning of Matt’s accident. Well, this morning I remembered.” My voice had the tone of a Death March.
Laura’s cherry-colored lips fell open, as she slowly sat back down. “Well?” she said. “What did you remember?”
I was a jittery mess and stood to gaze out the window, feeling as if I were in some kind of trance. The words stuck in my throat. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was fling my arms around in despair while shaking my head, when finally I opened my mouth and couldn’t hold back my tears. I sobbed and sobbed, my body wrenched, I felt physically ill. And during the time, it took to explain what had happened the pain in my heart had felt as fresh as the day Matt died.
“Oh, honey.” I felt Laura’s arm around my waist, guiding me away from the window. “Come on, sit down.” She brought me to my office chair, sat me down, and dragged the chair from the front of my desk to sit face to face with me and hold my hands.
“Listen, I know you’re a control freak, but not even you have the power to determine when someone’s life is going to end. You didn’t cause anything to happen. Matt was going jogging that morning whether you got into an argument with him or not. Even if he had nothing but happy thoughts on his mind, he wasn’t familiar with the terrain and it was foggy. Our lives are predestined, it was Matt’s time to die, and God is the only one who knows why.”
I stared at her without being able to say anything right away. “I want to believe you’re right but--”
“You two were the happiest couple I’d ever met. Was he a workaholic, yes, but he loved you more than life itself. In all the years you two were together, I’d bet you could count on one hand the times you argued, and I’m not talking about arguing over work. Plus, you have to admit, you were just as bad when it came to burning the midnight oil. When you take the work aspect out of the equation, you two got along on everything else.”
I stared down at the floor, while Laura rubbed her thumbs over the back of my hands. All I could picture was Matt’s brilliant smile.
“You two respected each other,” she said. “You cared deeply for each other, and that’s the kind of bond you can take with you to the grave. It’s nothing I’d personally experienced, and I might not ever get the chance to have someone love me as much as Matt loved you--as much as you both loved each other. That’s what’s worth remembering. And that’s where your mind should be.”
She patted my hand and raised my chin using one perfectly manicured finger. “Can’t you see that remembering that piece of your life is a very good thing?”
I frowned and straightened my posture. “How could remembering something so awful be good?”
“Because it was the breakthrough that will change your life. You can now stop feeling guilty. You were not to blame for Matt’s death. And now that open wound you’d kept buried in the back of your mind for all these years can finally heal. Don’t you see? Today is the first day of the rest of your life. We both believe in heaven, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, I’d stake my life on the fact that Matt has probably been looking down on you all these years just waiting for this day so you can move on with your life and be happ
y.”
That’s when I knew she was right. Matt was looking down on me, he had appeared to me, he was trying to tell me things about myself, and how I needed to let go of the past. Maybe he was even the one who had put the thoughts in my head and forced me to remember. The book, the one book he chose with an underlining theme of being brave and opening your heart to love.
I gave Laura a big hug. “Thank you for always being my friend and making me see clearly. I can honestly say that I believe one hundred percent in what you just said.”
Laura smiled and let out a deep sigh. “Okay, now that that’s settled, call Gavin and tell him you’ve changed your mind.”
“What? I can’t do that!”
“Listen, now is not the time to play hard to get.”
“You don’t understand Gavin is the guy I dreamed about. That’s a problem.”
“I know, lucky you. He’d be the guy of my dreams, too, so I’m not understanding why that’s a problem.”
“What I mean is he is the guy, as in the exact duplicate of the guy I’d seen in my dream who was actually Matt.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Yeah well, you just got lucky. The guy you conjured up in your head just happens to resemble Gavin.”
I stifled a laugh. What’s the use to explain any further?
“Well?” she asked.
“All right, I’ll think about it,” I said.
I thought about the book. For the protagonist it didn’t matter that the woman lived and died in another time, he was desperate to find her. I interpreted that to mean that Matt definitely wanted me to find Gavin--no matter what.
Fifteen
Mother’s eyes watered while leaning over the kitchen island to chop up the last of the Vidalia onion. Nicholas sat next to me on the other side of the island, carefully arranging banana slices on the bottom of a graham cracker piecrust.
I’d done a lot of soul-searching to try and forgive myself, while trying to decipher the meaning of Matt’s messages and my bizarre dream. Ever since I remembered what had happened the day Matt died, I took to wandering the house late at night, talking into the air, and pleading with Matt to materialize. I still needed to talk to Matt before I could truly move on with my life.
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