The Way They Were

by Mary Campisi

  “It’s in the past now.” The future is what I want. With you.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you more.”

  “Shhh.” He placed a finger on her lips. “It’s okay.”

  She nodded. “Just one more thing.”

  “What?” His gaze slid over her face. She really did have the most incredible lips.

  “Please don’t fire Maxine.”

  She licked her lips and Rourke had to force himself not to reach out and kiss her. “Why would I fire Maxine?” Who the hell cared about Maxine right now?

  “For sending me the reports.”

  “What reports?”

  Her perfect skin turned a soft rose. “The reports from your detective. The ones about me.”

  Rourke froze. Maxine had sent them to Kate? “Look, there’s a perfectly logical explanation for those.”

  “Oh, I hope not.” She moved closer and lowered her voice. “I hope there’s no logical explanation. I hope there’s only one, very illogical, impractical, and totally implausible reason for those reports.”

  “Really?”

  Those full, luscious lips tilted at the corners. “Yes. And I hope it’s a perfect match for the illogical letters I wrote in my journal, the same journal you wrote your letter in.”

  “You read the letter.” He’d been hurt and desperate when he’d written it. He’d sounded like a complete wimp. Was that why she was smiling?

  “Several times.”

  He settled his gaze on the top of her head and tried to regain control. “It was a weak moment. I don’t usually sound so…” He couldn’t even say the word, wimp.

  Kate touched his cheek and murmured, “It was a beautiful moment and I hope there will be more of those.”

  She sounded like she really meant it. Maybe being a wimp on occasion wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He crushed Kate against his chest and swung her off her feet. “God, but I love you.”

  She buried her head against his chest and sighed. “I’ve always loved you. Even when I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Marry me.”He eased her to the ground and looked down at her. “Let’s not waste one more hour apart.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Of course it is.” They loved each other. After all these years they could finally admit it—to themselves and each other.

  “No, it’s not. There are a million problems.”

  “I’m a very good problem solver.” He smiled and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Stop frowning or you’ll be more wrinkled than a prune.”

  “I’m serious, Rourke.”

  “So am I. Wrinkles are not my idea of attraction, though I’d love you even if you were shriveled.”

  Her eyes narrowed to a glittery blue. “But why Rourke? Why would you love me when you can have anyone you want?” Those beautiful eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to be a novelty that gets used up and bought off. I’d rather lose you now than live through that.”

  “I asked you to marry me, Kate. I’ve never asked a woman that before.”

  “There are women who won’t care if you’re married or not when they come after you.”

  “I want you.”

  “I won’t be thirty-three forever. I’ll get old and very wrinkled.”

  “So will I.”

  She threw him a look that said she doubted it. “I could gain a hundred pounds and lose my hair.”

  The woman could be exasperating. “More to love and have you ever heard of wigs?” She was not getting out of this so easily, not when he almost had her.

  “What about Julia?”

  “What about Julia?” He glanced at his daughter who gave him the thumbs up. “I think she’ll be fine, especially when she finds out Abbie’s part of the deal.”

  Kate’s voice fell to a whisper and he had to lean in close to hear her next words. “I’m so scared. I’ve been living with your memory for so long, what if the real thing isn’t what I thought it would be?”

  He stroked her cheek and trailed his hand along her neck. “What if it’s so much better than either of us thought it could be? I’m sure as hell not giving that up. Don’t be afraid, Kate. I’m sure enough for both of us.”

  “Then yes,” she breathed.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes, I will marry you.” She leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him softly on the mouth. Once. Twice. “And I will love you for the rest of my life.”

  Rourke pulled her to him and whispered against her lips, “Remind me to give Maxine a raise.”

  She kissed him. “And a bonus.”

  “A car, too,” he said, smiling down at her. “What do you think she’d look like in a Jag?”

  “I think there’s a whole side of Maxine we haven’t seen yet.”

  Wait until he told her about Miles Gregory. “I think you’re right.” He kissed her once again and released her. “We are definitely going to finish this later tonight. Right now I’d like to introduce you to this roomful of gawkers.”

  She clasped his hand and smiled up at him. “Maybe even a toast? To us?”

  “To the way we were,” he said gently, loving the feel of her beside him. “To the way we will be for the rest of our lives. Together.”

  Epilogue

  To file:

  Clients: Abbie Flannigan and Julia Maden as approved by Ms. Maxine Simmons and Mr. Miles Gregory.

  Subject: Rourke and Kate Flannigan

  Date: July 27th, 2010

  Mr. and Mrs. Flannigan checked into the Ritz Carlton on Central Park South at 4:15 p.m., July 23rd. At 6:50 p.m., Mr. and Mrs. Flannigan exited hotel and walked to Tavern on the Green where they proceeded to dine on lobster and filet mignon. They shared a bottle of Chardonnay 1991.

  Couple remained at the restaurant until 9:30 p.m. at which time they made their way back to the hotel. Best estimation, lights out at 10:20 p.m.

  Mr. and Mrs. Flannigan spent the next two days seeing the sights of New York City; Ground Zero, Statue of Liberty, Guggenheim Art Museum, Good Morning America Studio, and The Lion King. Dining out included Chinese, Italian, Vietnamese, and various corner hot dog vendors. A bottle of Chardonnay 1991 accompanied each meal, (with the exception of the hot dog vendors.) One trip to Tiffany’s where Mr. Flannigan purchased a string of pearls for Mrs. Flannigan with matching earrings. Mr. Flannigan made two other purchases, one for his daughter and one for his niece.) Said purchases will remain a secret until such time as Mr. Flannigan chooses to divulge their contents.

  Couple departed for France on July 26th. Honeymoon progressing in a satisfactory manner for all parties concerned. End of report.

  The End

  Outtakes from THE WAY THEY WERE

  As with all of my books, THE WAY THEY WERE underwent several revisions. I clipped and tweaked, added on, deleted, and pretty much drove myself crazy trying to get just the right feel, tone, and words for this story. When I finished, I happened to read some of the earlier versions and thought readers might like to glimpse deleted passages.

  The following sections are from Kate’s journal and Rourke’s file. You can also take a peek at that night at the lake when they were eighteen and blissfully planning their future together. The next morning, tragedy will tear them apart. Fourteen years later, destiny will bring them together again…

  July 23, 1995

  Huntington Lake

  “What do you think of a Victorian house with the back windows overlooking the lake so the children can watch the geese?”

  “I think it sounds perfect.”

  “How many children?”

  “Three?”

  “Four.”

  “Okay.”

  They were lying underneath a sliver of moon as the mid-July heat rose and fell from the lake in a misty gurgle of hope and longing. Rourke had his arm flung around Kate’s waist. His shirt was half unbuttoned. Her silk panties lay jumbled next to one of her sandals.

  “How many bedrooms?”

  “Five.” She stroked
Rourke’s jaw and placed a soft kiss along his neck, trailing her tongue behind his ear until he groaned. “Our bedroom will have a king-size bed and a sunken tub shaped like a heart.” She reached her hand inside his shirt. “Big enough for two.”

  “Stop. You’re killing me.” She let out a laugh that spilled over his body like warm honey and made him hard all over again.

  “But what a happy death it would be.”

  He groaned. “Worth every second.”

  “And I’d like a workshop where I could paint.”

  “If we have enough land, I could build you a barn and you could fill it up with your little dollhouses.”

  She swatted him on the stomach. “Don’t make fun.”

  He laughed and pulled her hand down to feel his hardness. “Does this feel like I’m making fun?”

  Kate wriggled her slender body against him. “Hmmm.” She leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips, her tongue teasing his mouth open. “Let me inside,” she whispered. He opened his mouth and she thrust her tongue against his teeth; greedy, needful. Then she straddled him and reached for his belt buckle.

  “Kate. Stop.”

  “I can’t.” She unzipped his jeans.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “God, Kate, you really are killing me. I only had two condoms. I never thought…damn, I never imagined…”

  “We’ll be careful,” she murmured against his mouth. “Very, very careful.” And then she slid her hands inside his jeans and he was lost.

  July 23, 1995

  Huntington Lake—later that night

  “What names do you like?” She lay with her head on his bare stomach and breathed in the scent of night and his lovemaking.

  “Agatha. Brunhilda. Prudence—”

  She nipped the flesh above his navel and said, “Be serious.”

  “Gabrielle. It reminds me of a princess.”

  “Gabrielle,” Kate murmured against his skin.

  July 23, 1995

  Huntington Lake—midnight

  Slivers of moon cast soft halos on their naked skin as they clung to one another, breathing in the night scent of grass, and sweat, and virgin sex. “I love you,” Kate whispered against Rourke’s chest. He made her feel strong, and safe.

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’ll never stop loving you.” It was a truth she wanted him to know.

  His hand stroked her back, pulled her closer. “My heart is yours. Forever.”

  July 23, 1995

  Huntington Lake—after midnight

  “Danielle, Alexandra, Laura, Olivia, Gabrielle, Maria.” She paused and gazed up at him. “Do you like any of those?”

  Rourke smoothed a tangle of hair from her face and murmured, “All of them.”

  “I am not going to have six babies.”

  His laugh settled over her like soft caramel. “Six is my lucky number.”

  “Well, seven is mine but I’m not having seven children.”

  “Alex,” he said. “And Ben, and Max. Maybe Lucas.”

  “No Rourke Junior?”

  “No thanks. That name’s tough enough without adding a junior on the end of it.”

  “Hmmm. You’ve got a point.” Kate laid her head on his bare chest and breathed in his scent. He smelled of pine and their recent lovemaking.

  “As soon as we finish college we can get married. We’ll get engaged the Christmas before.”

  Just hearing him talk about their future made Kate half dizzy. She wanted to marry him more than she wanted her next breath. A whisper of panic brushed over her. “Tell me this isn’t all a dream that’s going to disappear in the morning.”

  Rourke rolled Kate onto her back and burned his silver gaze into her. “This isn’t a dream. It’s reality, Kate Redmond, our reality. We will be married. No one can stop us.”

  “Yes,” she murmured, opening her mouth to meet his. “No one can stop us.”

  Kate Redmond’s bedroom

  July 24, 1995—early morning

  Kate huddled in the corner of her bedroom, hugging a pillow to her chest. Faint strips of daylight poked through the blinds, falling in silvery-pink strands into the blackened room. She still wore the same shirt and shorts from last night—the same ones Rourke had gently eased off moments before he covered her body with his. Her underwear felt itchy and stiff from spots of dried blood. Virgin blood.

  While she and Rourke were cocooned in their own world of erotic discovery last night, Rourke’s mother had been plowed over by a hit and run driver on Indian Road. She was in the hospital, barely alive. Kate lowered her head to her knees. There were no tears left. Her throat was parched, like her insides.

  She didn’t know how long she sat hunched in the corner—one hour, two, five. The police told Rourke not to speak with anyone about the accident, but they didn’t understand. Kate wasn’t just anyone. She waited for him to come to her.

  “This is a small town,” Sergeant Kilney had said. “We’ll catch him. Or her.”

  When Rourke found Kate, the sun had pierced the blinds and shot across the bed. She hadn’t noticed.

  “Kate? Are you okay?” His voice drifted to her, a godsend pulling her from murky water.

  She blinked. Twice. He crouched before her, a thick lock of dark hair falling over his forehead, concern stretched across his tanned face. He was so handsome and so perfect. And she was so in love with him. Kate reached out and touched his cheek. “Didn’t the police tell you not to talk to anyone?”

  “To hell with them.” He sat down next to her and stroked her hand. “Have you been in this corner all night?”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to call and I almost came over—”

  “Oh, baby.” He pulled her into his arms and whispered, “It’s going to be okay.”

  “Is it?” She kept her voice low so she didn’t wake her mother. Georgeanne Redmond in a gin stupor was not a pleasant woman.

  “Of course it is.”

  “What’s going to happen now?” She could hardly get the words out.

  “My aunt’s coming from Chicago. She’ll handle everything.”

  “The rich one?” Rich people did not live in Montpelier.

  He shrugged “I guess. She’s my mother’s older sister. I hardly know her.”

  A tiny trickle of fear pulsed along the edges of her brain. “Is she going to take you away?”

  “Of course not.” He pulled her against his chest and stroked her hair. “I love you, Kate. Nobody’s going to come between us.”

  She turned her face into his shirt and let the conviction in his voice soothe her. “Don’t ever leave me.”

  “Never.” His grip tightened. “We’re bound together for life.”

  Two days later he was gone.

  July 24, 1995

  Montpelier, New York

  “I wish you didn’t have to go.” Kate buried her head against his chest and closed her eyes. She inhaled his scent like a dose of oxygen. He was the only one who could make everything right and now he was leaving.

  Rourke tightened his arms around her back and buried his face in her hair. “I’ll be back in a week.”

  His mother was being transported to a Chicago hospital and of course, he had to go with her. But he was coming back. “I’m sorry for acting like such a ridiculous baby.” She lifted her head so she could see his eyes. “It’s just that everything is happening so fast. The other night at the lake…”

  “I love you.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek and gently turned her face toward him. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. “Always.”

  “I’m scared. What if your aunt won’t let you come back?”

  His laugh rolled over her, making her insides burn. “I’m eighteen. What can she do? Force me?”

  “I don’t know what she can do. You don’t even know her.”

  “I don’t have to know her. She’s merely a means to help get my mother settled and s
ee that my tuition at Princeton is paid.” He smiled down at her, a lazy, seductive smile that made her want to touch him. “Relax, baby. Nothing’s going to happen to us. I won’t let it.”

  August 15, 1995

  Montpelier, New York

  “When is he coming back?”

  “Soon.” Please, Rourke, please come back soon.

  “Didn’t he tell you he’d be back in a week?”

  “Maybe his mother had complications.”

  “But three weeks? What if he doesn’t come back?”

  “He will.” Please, Rourke.

  “Maybe the aunt won’t let him come back. She looked like a tough one. Did you see the Cadillac she was driving?”

  “Everyone saw it, Angie. It was the only one in Montpelier.”

  “You didn’t tell me he was loaded.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “He should have told you.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

  “Kate, money or lack of it, always matters.” Pause. “Maybe the aunt’s convinced him to stay in Chicago. She might you know, especially if she’s a rich bitch. They don’t like mingling with us common folk. And with him going to Princeton and all, hmmm, she might not think Kate Redmond from Montpelier, New York is good enough for her blue-blood nephew.”

  “Shut up, Angie.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Don’t. Rourke’s coming back.” Her voice wobbled. “He has to.”

  “What does that mean? Kate? Ah shit, are you pregnant?”

  The words fell out in tiny half-spoken syllables. “I don’t know.”

  Journal entry - May 4, 1997

  It has been six hundred and thirty-three days since I last saw you. When you left, I destroyed all the pictures of us- everything first out of anger, then despair, and finally, fear. I didn’t want to remember the thick silkiness of your hair beneath my fingers, or the tiny chip in your bottom front tooth…I didn’t want to remember there was ever an us, but your voice, your touch, everything about you, has consumed me for almost two years.