Loving Neil

by Ronald Bagliere

  Janet sighed. This was not the conversation she wanted to have. She steeled herself, and leaning forward, searched the old careworn face across from her. “Don’t you want them?”

  He ate another French fry. “Not really.”

  “What about your kids?”

  He looked up at her. “They have plenty of ‘em, ‘sides, I know ya like ‘em.”

  Janet didn’t know what to say. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Thanks, I’ll treasure them. When you planning on moving?”

  “Next month, I think. You can sell what there is of my furniture. I won’t be needing it.” He leaned forward and gave her a crooked smile. “I’ll be okay. Can’t say I won’t miss ya though. You’ve been a daughter to me.” He averted his gaze then, and Janet knew why. The loss of his little girl so many years ago still gripped him like a fisherman’s knot.

  After Janet got home, she picked up the phone and dialed Neil’s number. As it rang, she thought about Tom. Already, she missed him. Perhaps Neil could take her mind off it.

  “Hello?” Neil said, sounding as if he’d been woken up. She peered out through the window at the veiled moon that was drifting in and out of clouds and looked up at the clock. It was going on ten.

  She paused. “Hi.”

  His voice brightened. “Janet?”

  “I’m sorry. I just noticed what time it is.”

  “No, it’s all right. What’s up?”

  She eyed Barney, unsure of how to continue without sounding like an idiot. “I’m sorry. I’ll call back tomorrow.”

  “No, no. Go ahead, please,” he said in an encouraging tone.

  “Okay.” She looked up at the ceiling. “The reason I called was to ask if you’d like to get together sometime soon, so I can pay off that dinner bet.”

  “Sure. You sound odd. Everything okay?”

  “Umm … Yeah. I just feel like having someone to talk to.”

  “Okay.”

  She bit her lip. “Not over the phone. My place?”

  “Sure. When?”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “I have a meeting in Corvallis at four tomorrow,” he said. “I could be there around seven.”

  “That’ll be fine,” she replied. “See you then?”

  “I’ll be there. You need me to bring anything?”

  “No, just yourself.”

  “Okay. You have a good night, now.”

  “Thanks. You too. Bye.” She hung up and ran her hand through her hair. Oh, my God, what does he like? She went to her cupboards. There wasn’t much there. She hadn’t cooked for anyone in a long time.

  “That was great,” Neil said, pushing away from the table. “I haven’t had salmon in a long time.”

  “It’s my favorite,” Janet said, rather proud of herself but a little nervous. She got up and started clearing the table.

  “Sit down,” he said companionably. “You’ve been running around since I got here.”

  She forced herself to sit, eyeing the dirty dishes and the butter crying to go back in the fridge. “You don’t mind the mess?”

  “Mess?” he said. “It’s just a few dirty dishes. Relax. I’ll help you clean up afterward.” He paused, sipped his wine, and looked at her speculatively. “So you wanted to talk?”

  “Let’s go outside,” she said, partly to get away from the clutter on the table, but mostly to buy some time to think about how much she should say about Tom. When they were sitting on her deck, she said, “I … I went to see Tom yesterday. Do you remember him?”

  Neil swished his wine in the glass, his gaze never leaving her. “Sure.”

  “He was my aunt’s tenant, and he’s like a second father to me. Anyway, he’s umm … he’s moving back east to be with his kids.”

  Neil was quiet a moment. At last he said, “What’re you gonna do?”

  She nodded. “Not sure.”

  “And now you have another empty house to contend with?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Right now I’m debating whether I should keep the cottage or sell. I’m curious; what would you do?”

  Neil rubbed his chin. “Oceanfront, right?”

  She nodded.

  “It’d fetch a good penny.”

  “My father’s sentiments, exactly.”

  Neil shrugged. “You want to keep it?”

  Janet’s thoughts went to the expense of up-keeping the property and the taxes. Up until now, the rent had always covered the money end of things and Tom had covered the rest. “I’d like to.”

  “Then keep it,” he said.

  She looked off over her yard.

  “Ah, now we come to it. Cash flow,” Neil said.

  “Something like that,” Janet replied.

  Neil downed the rest of his wine. “Why not rent it out again.”

  Janet shook her head. “I really don’t want to. Being a landlord to one tenant is enough.”

  Neil curled his lips. “So, I’m just a tenant.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said and reached over and cuffed his arm.

  He feigned injury. “I think I deserve another glass of wine for that. Want some?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

  He got up and went inside. Through the glass door, she could see him gazing back at her. She stood and went to the railing, thinking about what he said.

  Neil stepped back out and came beside her. “Here,” he said, handing her a glass.

  “Thanks.” She offered him a smile. “You really liked the meal?”

  “It was great,” he said. “In case you don’t know it, I’m not exactly prime domestic material, so this was a real treat. Nice place, too.” He put his hands on the rail and looked off over the back fence toward the hills. “You know, married people forget what it’s like being single.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. You’re it when it comes to taking care of things,” he said, listing off his routine chores.

  “You forgot cleaning,” Janet added.

  “Yeah, that too.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “You like movies?”

  She shrugged. “They’re all right. Why?”

  “There’s one I’ve been wanting to see.” He cleared his throat and casually said, “Thought maybe we could go together.”

  “Really?” she replied, fighting the impulse to grab her purse and drag him out the door. She eyed her watch. “We’ll have to hurry.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of tomorrow.”

  “Sounds like a date?” she said. “You sure you wanna be seen with a younger woman? People might talk.”

  A devilish grin played on Neil’s lips. “You said I needed to get out, remember? So, what about it?”

  “I don’t know. Depends.”

  “On what?” he replied, raising his brow.”

  “On what your expectations are. I don’t kiss on the first date. I have my reputation to think of, you know.”

  He laughed, but the idea of being on a date with him made her heart pound. She jabbed him with a friendly elbow, praying the grin on her face hid the giddy terror thumping in her chest.

  11

  Janet patted her bed signaling Barney to hop up and join her. It was around ten. Neil had dropped her off an hour ago. They had driven to Lincoln City and spent the day window-shopping in gift shops lining the streets along the harbor inlet. Neil looked for artwork to brighten up his living room walls. She went along because he wanted to make sure he wasn’t paying too much, but she knew it was because he wanted her company. After much teasing, he grudgingly admitted to it on their way there. They ended up at Jake’s on the way back for dinner.

  “Did you have fun driving around with Mommy and Neil today?” Janet said to the dog as he licked her neck. “Mommy did.” She gazed off toward the window into the star spattered sky, wondering if Neil had wanted to kiss her on the doorstep but didn’t know how to approach it.

  She let go of the dog and turned the night-light off. As she lay in the darkness, she debated the merits of her growing
fondness for Neil. I like him. He’s fun … and nice, and he doesn’t try to fix me. And another thing–he’s not a wolf looking for a piece. That’s nice. And what’s wrong with hanging out with him anyway, even if he is older? Okay, a lot older! It’s not like we’re sleeping together. He is cute in a cuddly sort of way, though. Oh, shit, where did that come from? No! Stop it! He’s Megan’s father.

  But the thought of being in bed together, of feeling his calloused hands caressing her was staring straight back at her. Would he be any different than other men she’d known? Sex was just sex to them. You lost yourself in the moment, and when it was over, you both rolled over and went to sleep or you got out of bed, got dressed and left.

  She flipped the light on. Barney looked up. I need to stop thinking about this. Maybe get something to read. She padded over to the bookshelf in her room. Capote? No, it’s a little late to be terrorized by him. Bradley? Too dense. I need something light: Keats, too flowery; Frost, maybe … nah. What’s this? She pulled a small box off the shelf and opened it. Oh, the letters Tom gave me the day we cleaned June’s house out.

  She brought the tattered box back to her bed, climbed up beside it, and sat with her legs crossed yoga style. Pulling the lid off, she saw an old manila envelope faded to almost white. She reached in, took it out and unwound the string that held the flap shut, and slid the contents out. As she sifted through it, she saw several letters between her aunt and father. Curious, she picked them out and read them one by one, and as she did so, felt a frown come to her face. Something about her mother having an affair with another man. She looked at the dates the letters were written, but they offered no clue regarding when it had happened. She picked another one up that was addressed to her father. It was a recent letter, the paper crisp and white. Unfolding it, she read:

  William

  I’ve thought about this for a long time and I’ve decided it’s time for you to let Janet know the truth. You owe it to her, and if you don’t say anything, I will. I know this will upset you and I also understand I’m stepping out of line, but you and Janet will never have a chance to start healing until she’s told you’re not her father.

  Her sight went dim, and the letter fell from her hand. She sat motionless, grasping to make sense of what she’d just read. Picking it back up, she reread the words again and again. Suddenly, her whole life was a lie, and she didn’t know who she was. Mindlessly, she dropped it to the floor and walked out of the room in a daze.

  She wanted to run–to disappear–but to where, and did it matter? Grabbing her keys, she stepped into the garage careless that she only had a sleeping shirt on and opened the car door. Forty-five minutes later, she stood beside her mother’s grave. Her father wasn’t her father anymore. She wasn’t sure who he was, except that he wasn’t hers.

  In the twilight, she knelt on the grass wet with dew staring ahead into the nothingness, wanting answers. More than that, she wanted to pound her mother’s chest, to scream at her, but only a muffled cry came. “Why did you lie to me? You all lied to me! Why, Mom? Now I know why Dad always looked at me like I was an intruder. Except he’s not my dad. I don’t know who he is.”

  She glared at the flowers she’d planted a year ago, waving in the gentle breeze caressing the grounds. They were like bratty children sticking their tongues out, making fun of her. She bent over them, and one by one, ripped them from the ground.

  The next morning, Janet woke on her living room couch under a soft blanket to find Neil asleep in the recliner next to her. She bolted upright and blinked into the shadows, wondering if she was dreaming, but no, he was there, gently snoring. What, why … oh, shit. She shut her eyes tight as the memory of last night suddenly crashed around her, crushing her all over again.

  “Janet, you all right?” Neil said, sitting up.

  He leaned forward as she curled into a fetal position and buried her head in between her arms. A moment later, she felt the blanket being dragged over her shoulders, heard Neil shuffle off into the other room. Oh, God, he must think I’ve lost it. And why not, look at me? I’m a mess. I don’t know who I am. Tears gathered in her eyes while she lay staring into empty space. Her throat tightened and her body quaked in a racking, silent sob until, mercifully, sleep overtook her again.

  Several hours later, she sat at the kitchen table opposite Neil. The burger he made sat half eaten in front of her, the tea in her mug, lukewarm. She took a sip, looked out the sliding glass door toward the swaying Gary oak and said in a voice she barely recognized, “I feel like an orphan.”

  Neil leaned forward and looked at her with gentle kindness. “But, you’re not alone. You have friends, people who care about you.”

  But she couldn’t see any clear way out of the hole she had fallen into and shook her head.

  “Janet,” Neil said, “I know you don’t believe me right now, but you will get through this.”

  She looked up. “That’s easy for you to say. But you’re not me.”

  He shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I care about you, and I’m not going to let you be left alone in this.”

  She leveled her gaze on him. “Don’t try and fix me.”

  “I wouldn’t presume to,” he said. “I’m just letting you know I’m here for you.”

  Suddenly, she realized he was looking at her as more than just a friend, except she didn’t know ‘what more than just a friend’ looked like to him. She got up. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll be fine.”

  “Is that what you want?” he said.

  Unable to meet his imploring gaze, she nodded.

  “Okay,” he answered softly. “If you need me, call, okay?”

  She watched him from the corner of her eye while he pulled his jacket on. Please turn around. Don’t go. Say something, anything. She swallowed hard, felt her throat tighten for the umpteenth time. I’m not going to cry. “Thanks for coming.”

  She heard him linger by the door, felt his eyes on her then he opened it and left.

  Two days later –

  It was early morning, around six when Janet emerged from the underpass leading to Fogarty State Park beach. The ocean was at high tide and was washing the shoreline. Yesterday and the day before had been a giant blur. She peeled off her socks and shoes as the surf thundered against the rocks and wind battered the sandy dunes. The beach was empty, save for birds and Barney by her side. At length, she struck off under the slate gray clouds. As she walked, she thought about the man she had always known as her father.

  When her grotto came into sight, she veered away from the water’s edge toward it. Behind her, the waves rolled in, their rhythmic rise and fall echoing the throbbing emptiness inside her. She climbed the gentle slope running up to grotto, wanting the world to go away, seeking refuge. But now, the place she had always run to in the past felt cold and indifferent.

  Barney picked his way up to her and nestled against her side. She pulled him onto her lap and hugged him fiercely. All her life, she had wanted a father to love her, to be proud of her. Except now, she had no father. For the first time in her life, she really felt alone.

  She took a deep breath of the ocean air, trying to figure out where to go from here. Neil was right. She had friends. There was Megan, and there was always the crowd at Jake’s. But now, she realized she needed more. She needed to feel connected to someone. Was that someone Neil? She had been struggling with the growing bond between them because it scared the hell out of her. Was it because of the vast difference of years between them? No! It was because of the fear of letting a man into her heart.

  She turned her gaze upward, felt a soft warm zephyr caress her face and leaned back. All she wanted was to be happy. Didn’t she deserve it? Why was it so hard? And then it hit her. She had been happy. A couple weeks ago she had been on top of the world because of Neil. The warmth in his smile, and the way he looked at her made her feel worthwhile, that she was beautiful and cared about.

  An hour later, she headed up the coastal highway in a light soaking rain that mad
e the fields and trees glisten. As she drove, she nibbled her lip. Please be home, Neil. I don’t know if I can do this again. Her heart thumped as she pressed down on the accelerator.

  As she turned onto Neil’s road in the driving rain, she held her breath until she saw his truck in the driveway. Pulling in behind it, she looked up to see a light go on in the living room. She sat in the car, gathering courage. Barney moved close, his velvet brown eyes searching her. She ran her hand over the dog’s head and along his muzzle. “Stay, Barney. I’ll be right back.”

  With an effort, she got out of the car, ran to the porch and knocked. The rain beat down on her head, matting her hair to her face.

  When Neil opened the door, she stood there unable to open her mouth. Everything she rehearsed fell away.

  “Janet. What’s wrong?” he said, pulling her inside.

  She looked at him, studying his face and the alarm in his expression. “I … I feel so alone.” The words were a whisper. He gazed at her, and all she could see was his gentle heart, his acceptance of who she was, and it drove her into his arms.

  Janet spread the letter from her aunt out on the table in front of her. Outside the window, a waning sunset cast a warm saffron glow on the rooftops. She read the letter twice and debated what to say to the man she had called father for so many years.

  Does he know who my real father is? Will he tell me? Do I really want to know? The answer to the last question was complicated. She turned toward Neil sitting on the couch, reading the paper. “Hey.”

  He looked up. “Yes?”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  He folded the paper and set it in his lap. “Sure.”

  “What would you do if you were me?”

  “About what?”

  “William. My father. I’m so … so, I don’t know what I am. I mean the way he treated me growing up all makes sense now. But then he comes out and takes care of me after the accident. Tells me he loves me. I mean, what do you do with that?”

  Neil got up, came to the table and sat. “Is this the letter you found?” he said, looking down at it.