“I have a confession to make,” she said as they walked to Rita and Nicky’s front door, Michelle in her arms while Dan carried one of the salads.
“Sounds serious.”
She sighed. “After we finished the antipastos, I sneaked upstairs and wrote it all down.”
The front door opened just as Dan’s gleeful laugh rang out.
“Now, that’s the way to start a party!” said Nick, taking the baby. “Come on in.”
“I’ll get the other tray,” said Alexis.
“Do that,” said Dan, eyes glistening. “Then figure out what you’ll do if we use different ingredients next time.”
Alexis paused. “You’re kidding, right?”
But Dan didn’t answer. He just kept shaking his head as he watched her retrieve the second platter from the car.
At one o’clock, the house was already filled with people, but somehow, groups had formed. Women in the kitchen, kids in the family room, men in the living room. Nick still had the baby and Michelle seemed to be doing fine.
“These salads are beautiful!” said Rita, directing their placement at each end of the dining room table. “I didn’t expect you to go to so much trouble.”
“Dan helped,” said Alexis quickly. “He helped a lot. And besides, look at all the work you’ve been doing.”
“Ahem,” snorted Theresa. “My mom has the fine art of delegating down to a science. We all brought side dishes and desserts, and yesterday we were here setting the table.”
Despite Theresa’s mock complaints, Alexis could feel the warmth and friendship among the women. Mary Ann, too, was at the stove, stirring something while throwing her comments into the conversation. To her great surprise, Alexis felt relaxed, almost as if she were part of the group.
“I guess this is how a holiday is supposed to feel,” she said, “everyone helping and happy together.”
“Or noisy and complaining,” joked Rita, glancing at her daughter. “But, we all look forward to it. It’s good family time.”
“Lucky family.” She heard the wistful note in her voice as she remembered all the Thanksgivings she and Sherri had stayed away from the house, away from Cal. The man didn’t work on holidays, and they’d found other places to go, like public parks and second-run movie theaters.
“We’ve been especially lucky since you came around,” said Rita.
Alexis smiled. “Babies are miracles, aren’t they?”
“A loving and caring aunt is a miracle, too,” said Theresa. “In fact, a couple of little girls I know think Michelle’s auntie is an angel.”
“She’s definitely an angel.” Dan joined them with Michelle in his arms. “She puts up with me and my crazy schedule and still keeps her sanity.”
Placing Michelle in her lap, Dan leaned over her chair. He looked as though he was going to kiss her. She knew it. She could read his intention, his body language. “I don’t think—”
What would his family think of her when Dan finished the football season, decided he no longer needed her nanny services and moved on? He’d already shown—with Sherri and who knew how many others—that he was quite willing to love ’em and leave ’em. Would the Delitos think she was just a good-time girl? Would they assume it ran in the family? Alexis felt sick.
Dan straightened. “See you later,” he said. “After Joe, Dad and I throw the ball a few times.”
“You need to go easy on your father,” said Rita. “He’s not twenty-one anymore.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” said Dan with a wink.
After he left the kitchen, Rita lowered herself into a chair and started to cry.
“Mom!” Theresa kneeled next to the woman. “It’s okay. He’ll be careful with Daddy. Don’t worry.”
But Rita shook her head. “I’m not worried about Dad. Don’t you see what I see? It’s Danny. He’s alive again. Looking wonderful. I think we’ve finally got our Danny-boy back.”
Alexis slipped out of the room. Although she also rejoiced in the changes they’d all seen in Dan, she certainly didn’t want to hear their analysis of those changes. Her name might be mentioned more often than Michelle’s, and that would not do. It would not do at all.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, what had started as casual exercise had turned into a full-fledged practice session in the middle of the street. As Alexis watched from the front porch, men and boys of every age surrounded the quarterback, all wanting to be part of the action. Dan paid attention to everyone, dividing players into teams. Soon, jackets started coming off.
Little by little, Rita and Nicky’s friends came over to meet Michelle, and Alexis found herself in the midst of more people in one day than she normally did in a week. Her plans to slip out after an hour or two disappeared. Thanksgiving was an all-day party. Once again, she’d have to go with the flow.
As Alexis continued to watch the football activity, the men stepped aside, and Dan turned into a coach for the youngsters in the group.
“He looks like he’s really enjoying himself,” she said. “I didn’t know he liked to coach.”
“This is how Dan grew up,” said Theresa, who had joined her on the porch. “Every day, he’d be out here with a passel of boys throwing a football. He majored in history when he went to college, though, in case he wanted to teach high school someday…after his big career.”
His sister shrugged. “Almost every little boy dreams of becoming a professional athlete. Who knew his dream would come true?”
Dan had known. He’d made it happen. Alexis understood that part of him because they both had the tenacity of a bulldog.
Later, after she’d returned to the house and fed and changed Michelle, Dan came into the kitchen. His energy was high, his face flushed from the cold, and his smile…Well, when he smiled at her, she felt the heat.
“That was more fun than the game against Washington’s going to be on Sunday.” He opened the fridge and grabbed a can of cola. “I’m thirsty.” He started gulping. “Where’s Joe and Larry?”
“On the back porch, I think.”
She watched him go to the door and look through the pane. He made no move to join the men.
“Something wrong, Dan?”
“Nope. I just see a couple of jackasses sharing a few beers—outdoors—like it was summer.” He stepped onto the porch.
She went to the window and groaned. A six-pack. She slipped her jacket on and followed Dan. No pretense of politeness here. Anything to do with alcohol was her business. If Dan resented her, too bad.
“Why are you guys drinking cold beer outside in the cold weather?” asked Dan. “Come on in.”
Joe looked up. Took his time. “The truth?”
“I’m guessing I already know.”
“We didn’t want to tempt you. So we decided to hide out back here,” said Dan’s brother.
“Hide out! Well, aren’t you considerate? And here I thought I was an adult.” His hands fisted as sarcasm laced his voice. “Yes, sir. The all-powerful Dan Delito can sure spoil Thanksgiving for his family. Now, get inside. I promise you I’m not tempted by any of it. Not beer, not Scotch, not anything.”
Joe stood. “I’m not going anywhere yet. Just answer this question.”
Alexis had barely breathed since Dan confronted the men. Now she held her breath entirely and listened.
“When did you have your last drink?” asked Joe.
“October 8.” He glanced toward Alexis. “It was the day Alexis and Michelle came to the house the first time. I was blitzed.”
“That’s got to be at least six weeks,” said Larry. “Not bad.”
“You were blitzed, you say?” repeated Joe. “So, now I want to know why the hell she ever went back for a second visit.”
Alexis gasped and stepped forward. “I’m glad you love your brother, Joe, but my decisions and my actions are my business and Dan’s—not yours.”
“Don’t start going all high-and-mighty on me,” Joe replied. “I’m the one who promised not to give up on him. My da
d and I both promised. We’ll be here for him if he needs us, no matter what, no matter where, no matter when.”
And she wouldn’t. That was the challenge he laid down, what he implied. “And that’s terrific,” said Alexis. “He’ll have several fine people in his corner, which can only be a good thing.”
She kept her gaze firmly on Joe and started her courtroom pace. “As the daughter of an alcoholic,” she continued, “I am first and foremost in Michelle’s corner. Now, you can go chew on that for a while.”
“I’m calling it a draw,” said Dan. “So, you all can listen to me and listen hard. I’m a big boy, and I’m taking care of myself. Have as many beers as you want, bro. I’m fine.”
Joe’s interference really didn’t bother Alexis. She hoped, however, that Dan had told the truth—that he’d been facing his problem, a problem that affected everyone around him. No amount of nagging or begging on her part could make him change—sobriety had to be his choice. Even her own father had gone through periods of sobriety along the way. Unfortunately, they’d never lasted for more than a few weeks. As for Dan—he might be going down the same path. The mere thought made her wince, made her stomach cramp. Worst of all, it made her heart ache.
Despite how wary she’d been when they’d first met, she was no match for a family man with a sense of humor. A man who tried hard to do the right thing, in good times and bad. A man who thought his daughter hung the moon, that every squeak and squawk, every new accomplishment of hers, was a miracle. Which, of course, it was.
As ironic as it seemed, Alexis had allowed Dan Delito to steal his way into her heart. Ironic was too mild a word to describe the situation, a situation that was reinforced by her periods of daydreaming. Alexis had never indulged in daydreams before. She’d been too practical for that. Now, she could barely recognize herself when she drifted off.
But daydreams weren’t reality. Alexis had learned that years ago by watching her own mother, who obviously saw something in Cal Brown the rest of the world didn’t. Perhaps Alexis’s daydream image of Dan—a big man with gentle hands, who knew how to love—was accurate. But perhaps she was simply seeing what she wanted and he really was drowning his grief in hidden bottles of vodka. Until she was sure, she had to be careful. For her sake and Michelle’s.
IT WAS ALMOST A RELIEF when Dan went out of town the next weekend. His Wednesdays away from home helped, too. He’d never told her exactly where he went on those nights, but he had referred to his activities as meetings.
She’d conjured up a number of possibilities—a team meeting at the stadium, or a dinner out with his players or even an AA meeting. Only one other option worried her. The “happy hours” constantly promoted by clubs and restaurants in the city. These social times were a magnet for young singles, and even she had gone once or twice with coworkers. Dan would fit in well if he was still looking to bury the pain of losing Kim. He could have stretched the definition of “meeting” easily enough. In her experience, alcoholics lied more easily and more often than they spoke the truth.
One day, she’d come right out and ask him where he went. So far, she had no cause to question him. He came home sober and smiling, happy to see her. Which was why she needed more of her own space.
Every time she saw him, she wanted him. And he knew it. He’d flirt with her, hug her, murmur in her ear. But he kept his word, the promise he’d made to her before she came to live with him and Michelle. He was respecting her boundaries. Definitely a good idea, but sometimes—despite her best efforts—she wanted what she was missing.
Impatient with herself now, she tried to focus on the computer screen. She needed to get her head together, to figure out what to do besides daydream about the man. On this last Friday night in November, she was browsing the Internet for possible job leads, a definite back-to-reality exercise. Not that it distracted her from anticipating Dan’s phone call. Whenever he traveled, he called from his host city, and tonight he’d be in New York, ready to face the Jets on Sunday. Hopefully, the Patriots would add to their wins, as they’d done last week against the Redskins.
She chuckled, thinking about Dan’s unwillingness to admit that with their 12–1 record so far, they were having a remarkable season. She went along with him and never, ever mentioned the S word. She was certain, however, that all of Boston was speculating.
When her cell rang, she answered immediately and heard, “Hi, Ally.”
“Hi, yourself. So, you’ve arrived safe and sound?”
“Yep, except for one omission. No wallet. So, before I cancel credit cards, will you check my bedroom? And maybe the game room?”
“Sure. I’m walking toward your bedroom now and…let’s just say it’s pretty messy.”
“Sorry. I left in a rush.”
“Good excuse. But I don’t want to pry. So where should I look?”
She followed his directions—a quick search of his night table drawer and the floor under the bed, the bathroom counter, the top of his dresser. No wallet anywhere.
“I’m going to need more time to be thorough. How about if I call you back?”
After he agreed, she disconnected the call and began searching more slowly, starting in the bathroom where he’d showered right before Louis had picked him up to go to the airport. A balled-up undershirt lay on the floor, but no wallet beneath. The vanity was pretty clear except for a lovely ceramic dish with some coins but no wallet. She opened the top drawer on the off chance the wallet had somehow fallen in there.
Bingo. There it was, half-hidden by something blue, maybe a scarf. She picked up the items to separate them and wished she hadn’t.
The cloth wasn’t a scarf. It was a blue turban with a dark hairpiece attached in the back. It had to be Kim’s. Such a personal item, and he’d kept it. Alexis’s eyes misted. He’d loved that woman with an enduring strength she could hardly imagine.
Intending to return it to the drawer, she began to fold the turban neatly and heard a crackling sound. Inside the cap was a piece of paper, a small photograph. She stared at it for a long time, until she understood the image.
It was a picture of Kim and Dan together, both of them bald and smiling at the camera. He’d shaved his head to match hers. On the back was written, “I’m with you all the way.” Dan’s script.
Alexis had a lump in her throat, but she didn’t understand why she grieved so deeply right then. Was it for the lovely couple—for the death of their innocent dreams? Or was it for the death of her own unreasonable, barely acknowledged ones? She studied the picture and saw true love. Dan and Kim Delito.
With shaky hands, she replaced the items in the drawer and put Dan’s wallet on top of the coins in the ceramic dish. As she reentered the bedroom to retrieve her mobile from Dan’s bed, she glanced at the wall in the reading alcove and lost her breath.
A large portrait—of her! Or what could have been her. Alexis sank onto the mattress, her heart pounding. No wonder everyone who knew Dan reacted strongly when they met her. No wonder the kids asked about “Auntie Kim’s angel.” At first glance, she and Dan’s wife could have been sisters. She certainly looked more like Kim than Sherri.
At second glance, she saw the differences that Dan rattled off so easily. However, the resemblance left her rattled. Maybe the old saying about everyone having a double was true. She’d never thought about it before, never had reason to.
She slowly returned to her own bedroom, knowing she had to call Dan about his credit cards, and knowing she couldn’t reveal a thing about her discovery or her state of mind. Dan had a game to play on Sunday. Besides, he already knew she and Kim resembled each other. It wouldn’t shock him as it had her. She took a deep breath, hit the autodial and gave him the good news about the wallet.
“That’s terrific, Ally. Thanks so much. You’re a lifesaver.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll see you late Sunday night. It’s an early game.”
“I’ll be cheering.”
They disconnected and she slu
mped against the headboard. After congratulating herself for pulling it off, she let the tears flow.
She’d always known, in her head, that Dan had loved Kim deeply. She’d known, too, about the resemblance between herself and Dan’s late wife. But knowing something in your head and feeling it in your heart are two different things.
That was a lesson Alexis had learned the hard way when Sherri died. She’d seen it happen. She’d read the newspaper articles and the police reports. But it was only when she picked up the phone one day in mid-August to call her sister, and realized Sherri would never answer again, that she truly understood.
The emotions that washed over her now were as uncontrolled and strong as the feelings she hadn’t been able to hold back on that summer afternoon. Alexis had always known, intellectually, that Dan was the wrong man for her. He still had an unknown relationship with the bottle. And he had an admitted habit of starting casual affairs with random women. She’d allowed herself to hope he’d kicked the booze and groupies. But even if he had, she now knew the one habit he’d never kick was Kim. And she also realized the only reason she herself had breached his defenses was that she reminded him of what he had lost.
She’d tried so hard to be rational, logical and sensible—all the qualities that had served her well in law school and the D.A.’s office. In fact, her rational mind had convinced her she could be just friends with Dan. That she didn’t want anything more.
But if that were the case, admitting that no one would ever take Kim’s place in his heart wouldn’t hurt like a punch in the stomach. She wouldn’t feel as though she had lost a vital battle she hadn’t even conceded she was waging.
Her head dropped to her hands and she sobbed.
FEAR TRUMPED HER DISAPPOINTMENT when Dan was taken out of that Sunday’s game at the beginning of the fourth quarter. This time, a brutal sacking left him on the ground, and Alexis held her breath when he didn’t move for a long minute. Of course, he was surrounded by staff, who knelt next to him. While she watched, she saw him shake his head, then slowly manage to regain his feet. When the camera panned him, his grimace was clearly visible. The announcer said Delito had fallen directly on his right shoulder, his throwing arm, and was headed for some X-rays. The backup quarterback relieved him.
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