Love Between the Pages: 8 Romances for Booklovers

by Bird, Peggy

  “Then why don’t you come over tomorrow? David needs to rest and I’m feeling cooped up. Company will be good.”

  “What happened to David?”

  She told him about the soccer incident. He hung up the phone, glad she’d agreed to see him.

  He mulled over what she’d told him. Annie wasn’t having an easy time — first her job, then David getting into trouble, and now this. She needed a good friend, not someone trying to get her into bed.

  He smiled to himself. He’d have to show her that he could be a good friend and a good lover all rolled into one. He hoped he could pull it off.

  • • •

  The shining sun lit up her living room while Annie tidied the house the next afternoon. Although she couldn’t see the ocean, the swishing sound of waves floated in through the open window, soothing her spirit. The sweet smell of jasmine snuck in to entwine with the bitter aroma of coffee.

  She’d decided to simply enjoy John’s company over coffee. There wasn’t much she could do today about the rest of it. The thought stopped her short. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed the moment without wallowing in her worries. Maybe the coaching and the body work were helping after all.

  She looked around the living room and kitchen, changed the arrangement of her Delft candlesticks one more time and declared the space perfect. She swept back into her bedroom with a light heart. I’m in denial, she thought as she picked out the rose blouse to wear. But sometimes denial is a nice place to be.

  I’ll pretend that everything will turn out perfectly.

  Maybe it will, said a new voice from her chorus.

  David was on the phone with someone when she came in to tell him about John’s visit.

  “Who’s that,” she whispered, pointing to the phone.

  “Kerry. Have fun with your coffee. I’m fine.” He waved her out his bedroom door with a grin.

  A half hour later she and John were in the kitchen, sharing coffee and the sugar cookies he’d brought from the Pacific Cookie Company. He’d entertained her with the latest of his store manager’s antics when he turned to another subject.

  “Are you still thinking of moving?”

  “Do we really need to discuss this now? I thought we were having a pleasant time without discussing anything serious.”

  “Moving doesn’t solve anything.”

  “You moved. Did it help you?”

  “Yes, it did. The difference is that I dealt with my problems before I left Missoula. I was coming to a new life, not running away from anything. Or anyone.”

  “Except for Deborah.”

  “I had dealt with Deborah. Deborah hadn’t dealt with Deborah.”

  “Is she still around?”

  He shook his head. “I convinced her there’s no future for us. She headed back home on Saturday.”

  “I haven’t heard back from the guy in New Jersey,” Annie confessed. “So I don’t know if I’m going anywhere. It’s a lousy time to sell my house and David certainly doesn’t want to move. My problem is if I don’t have a job, I’m going to lose everything anyway.”

  “Come work for me. One of my long-time employees has decided to retire and move to Hawaii. I need a replacement.”

  She smiled sadly. “Thanks, but that’s not going to cover my salary.”

  He looked down at the table. “I thought it could be a stop-gap until you found something — give you a little income. It’d also give you some time to work on your music.”

  She thought guiltily of the unplayed guitar in the garage. She’d never gotten around to purchasing replacement strings. John’s offer would supplement her severance package and unemployment and keep her afloat longer — maybe long enough to find a job to keep everything going. It would still be a struggle. Keeping her full-time job would be a better strategy.

  “If the job in New Jersey comes through, I still think it would be best to take it. But thank you for the offer. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “How long before your job is terminated?”

  “Less than two weeks.” She rose. “More coffee?”

  She watched him study the tabletop. He was a good man, and, if she was honest, the sexiest man she’d ever gone out with. Were they going out? The thought surprised her. She studied his strong hands wrapped around the coffee cup, and shivered with pleasure. He must have sensed her stare because he looked up. When he saw her looking at him, he grinned. Her resolve disappeared.

  He stood, rounded the table and placed his hands on her arms. “Then I don’t have long to change your mind.” He lowered his head and took her lips with his. She gave a muffled protest, but it was halfhearted. Soon she was responding, providing passion for passion. How much longer would she be satisfied with kisses?

  A thud on the stairs below him made her pull back. Damn!

  David came into the kitchen. An ugly scab had formed on his forehead.

  “What happened to you?” John asked.

  “Soccer.”

  “Looks nasty.”

  “Yeah. Are you that guy from the bookstore? The one Mom’s been seeing?”

  “Yep.”

  “Any luck convincing her to stay here?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  David grunted. A moment later he was standing in front of the open refrigerator. He pulled out the milk, poured himself a glass and leaned back on the counter, looking at his mother.

  She stared back at him, not believing her son’s boldness.

  David shook his head. “Good luck,” he said to John and went back downstairs.

  “Nice kid.”

  “I can’t believe he was … that he … ”

  “Said what he felt?”

  She nodded.

  “Kids surprise you sometimes. Maybe you need to listen to him.”

  “John!”

  A slow smile crept across his face. “Just saying. I’m an outsider. You don’t have to listen to me.”

  “Thanks for your opinion.” She stressed the last word.

  “Okay, got it. Butt out.” He leaned over and brushed her lips with hers. “Keep next Friday night open. I’ll think of something fun for us to do.” He trotted down the stairs, whistling as he went out the door.

  • • •

  Curious about Beverly, Annie logged into Facebook the next morning and sent a message to her aunt to set up a time to talk on the phone. A minute after she clicked “Send,” a window popped up.

  “Got your message,” Beverly’s chat began. “But I think what I have to say needs to be said in person.”

  “Why?” Annie typed back.

  “Because things get lost over the phone. This is too important.”

  “Can’t you give me a hint?”

  “I’m sorry to tease you, but I want to see you. I can be there next week. You don’t have to put me up. I’ve got a friend in San Jose who I haven’t seen in years that I’d like to visit, too.”

  “I really hate to see you fly across the country when we can easily talk on the phone.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ve never even met you — or your son. I’d love to spend time with you. Even if it’s only a little.”

  Annie stared at the screen. What did she really know about this woman? She took a deep breath and typed, “Okay.”

  “How about this Tuesday?” Beverly replied. “I’ll fly out Monday night. We can have lunch.”

  “That’s only two days from now.”

  “I told you — it’s important to me.”

  Annie stared blankly at the screen. What have I gotten myself into?

  Monday morning Annie had her regular call with Carol. She told Carol about David’s soccer accident, but didn’t tell her about John’s job offer or Beverly’s impending visit, although she wasn’t quite sure why.

  “Read me your list of job possibilities,” Carol said.

  Annie looked at the wrinkled notebook paper. “Well, it starts off with consulting, and substitute teaching.”

  “And … ”
/>   “Office work.”

  “Annie, read me the list. There’s no judgment here. In fact, wilder is better.”

  Annie took a deep breath. “Surfing instructor, bartender, flight attendant, secretary, research assistant, babysitter, gardener. No, scratch that … I kill everything I plant.”

  “No judgment. With the proper training you can do anything you want. Keep going.”

  “Okay. Dancer, exotic dancer, stunt woman, movie extra, cabaret singer, flag person on a road crew … ” Annie read rapidly through the rest of her list.

  “Good! How does it feel?”

  “Ridiculous. I can’t do any of those things.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I suppose I could be a nurse, teacher, or secretary.” Her father’s prescribed list of female-appropriate jobs echoed in her head. “Or, I could find another husband and learn to be a better wife.”

  “Wow … all of that. That sounds like old male thinking. When are you going to let it go?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sure that was drummed into your head by your dad. How long has he been gone?”

  “About twenty years.”

  “Don’t you think twenty years is enough time to stop listening to your dad, especially since he’s dead?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I suspect you do know, but it’s buried in something that happened that you’re not ready to tell me.”

  Annie was silent. She could play that game as well as Carol.

  “So you were fifteen when your father died,” Carol said.

  “Yes.”

  “What did he die from?” The coach asked quietly.

  “He shot himself.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s really hard. Who found him?”

  “I did.”

  “Oh, honey. You were too young to face that.”

  “I’m not sure anyone’s old enough to face that.” There’d been so much blood. Her dad had gone into the bathroom, sat on the toilet seat and blown his brains out. She’d found him when she’d come home from school. She’d dropped the books and stood there, unable to move.

  She’d run around the house looking for her mother before she remembered it was grocery shopping day. She stood in the bathroom door and screamed at him to get up, even though she knew it was impossible. A neighbor must have heard her, because she suddenly appeared next to Annie and drew her away from the bathroom before calling the police.

  She hadn’t found the note her father had left her until later that night. It had been in her underwear drawer.

  “I can see why you hold onto his beliefs so strongly.” Carol interrupted her memories. “People feel guilty when someone close to them commits suicide, particularly kids. They wonder if they could have done something to prevent it. It sounds like you’ve spent your life in atonement trying to be the daughter your father wanted.”

  Annie cringed. No matter what she did, she’d never be the daughter her father wanted. She couldn’t.

  “Maybe.”

  Carol let the silence linger. Finally, she asked, “What aren’t you saying?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “No … nothing.” Liar, liar pants on fire.

  “Maybe something you aren’t ready to admit.”

  “There’s nothing. Really. Wasn’t finding my father dead enough?”

  “It was plenty.”

  Silence.

  “I had my first body work session,” Annie announced.

  “Annie, I know there’s something more … maybe something that you’ve never told anyone. And I also know that you’re still not ready to talk about it. But I urge you to do it soon, if not with me then with someone else. When you bring whatever happened out into the light, you’ll begin to heal. Will you think about that?”

  She hesitated, hating to admit she was hiding something. But maybe the coach was right. “Okay.”

  “Good. Tell me about the body work session.”

  They finished up the call ten minutes later.

  She spent much of the day drifting around the house, avoiding the dredged-up memories. There was no e-mail from Jim. Time was running out. Her layoff would be effective at the end of April — a week and a half away. Maybe the decision had been taken out of her hands.

  A long walk on the beach shook the dregs of horror from her mind. As she walked, she began to think about what would happen if she didn’t get the job offer. She’d pinned everything on it and never truly considered the possibility of not getting it. Didn’t they think she could do the job? Or maybe there were consequences for her “accidental” injury of the hand-roving corporate director. She shivered, remembering his meaty paws on her skin.

  She shoved the thought from her mind. It was time to get practical. She returned to the house, determined to start looking for a new job, even a temporary one.

  The phone rang while she was finishing up dinner.

  “Annie?” a strange woman’s voice asked.

  “Yes.”

  “This is your Aunt Beverly. Hello, dear.”

  “Oh, hello. Where are you?” She’d totally forgotten the woman’s arrival.

  “In San Jose. Our flight came in about ten minutes ago and I couldn’t wait to call you, to hear your voice. I’m so excited to see you tomorrow!”

  “Yes, me too.”

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  They arranged to have lunch at Michael’s on Main. She tossed and turned that night, wondering what her aunt had to say. An hour before lunch she started getting ready, taking extra care with her makeup to hide the circles under her eyes, but she still arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early.

  Beverly Gerhard arrived at Michael’s right on time. “Thank heaven for GPS!” she exclaimed. Thin, with a gray pixie haircut, Beverly moved with a grace that must have come from decades of dancing.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said, enveloping Annie with a hug. She stood back with her hands on Annie’s shoulders. “You are beautiful, like I knew you’d be. You’re the spitting image of your great-aunt Ruth.”

  “I never knew her.”

  “She couldn’t stand her brother, your grandfather, so she didn’t come around much. I think she died when you were about five.”

  There was so much she didn’t know, Annie realized. They seldom went to her father’s parents’ house — her father and grandfather didn’t get along — and her grandparents died when she was ten. She didn’t know anything at all about aunts, great-aunts, or cousins. Her mother was an only child whose parents had died before she was born.

  “I can’t wait to learn more about my family,” she said as they walked inside.

  “It smells wonderful,” Beverly said. “Oh, how beautiful!” The hostess seated them at a window overlooking the kitchen garden. Huge oaks necklaced with strings of lights hung over the unseen river.

  “It’s even prettier at night,” Annie said.

  “What’s good to eat here?” Beverly asked.

  “Almost anything. You have to have an order of crispy sweet potato fries though — it’s the specialty.”

  “Let’s split them. And I’ll have a Corralitos Cobb Salad,” she said to the waiter. “It sounds delicious. I love to try new things.”

  “Make that two,” Annie said.

  Suddenly, Annie ran out of things to say. Who was this woman? Was she the demon her mother had called her or someone else?

  “What have you heard about me?” Beverly asked.

  “I didn’t even know you existed.”

  “Well, someone must have told you something because you’re looking at me like I have horns and a tail.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean … it’s just … well … Mom didn’t have anything nice to say.”

  “I imagine,” Beverly said drily.

  �
�It’s none of my business. What do you do now? How did you become a dancer?”

  “I think it probably is your business. I’m sorry I stayed away so long. But they were all against me — my parents, your dad, even your mother. I was buried by their righteousness. I had to leave to survive.”

  “Mom said you were pregnant.”

  “I bet she said I had an abortion, too.”

  “Yes.”

  Beverly shook her head and leaned back so the waiter could serve their drinks. Idly, she ran her finger down the condensation on the glass. “I think I need to begin at the beginning.” She looked up at Annie. “Some of this may be hard to hear, but it’s important. Can you handle tough stuff?”

  I’ve been handling it all my life. She nodded.

  “Mark, your father, was about five when I was born. I was an ‘accident.’ My dad told me my mother slipped up and he was burdened with me. I didn’t even have the decency to be born a boy.”

  The words were clipped and unemotional, as if the memories were too painful to relive.

  “I could feel my father watching me as I grew. It was like he was waiting for something. Everyone was always tense, watching him, waiting. Then everything would explode. He’d yell and scream about the stupidest things — his shirts weren’t hung up correctly, or my mother had used the car without his permission. He’d hit her. Mark hid me in his room.” She looked at Annie. “Your father was a good man once.”

  “He didn’t stay that way.” Annie’s stomach churned.

  “Physical abuse is passed down, unfortunately. It takes a strong person to break the cycle and your father wasn’t brave enough. I learned more about abuse after I ran away. It was part of the healing process for me.”

  She leaned forward. “There’s a cycle. After the craziness subsides, the honeymoon begins. In our family, there were dinners, flowers, and pretty jewelry for my mother. We’d go to movies as a family. Eventually, the tension would begin again. We were living on top of a bomb and we all knew, even though we never talked about it, that the bomb would eventually go off. Sometimes I think my mom hung the shirts up wrong just to trigger it and get it over with.”

  “Why didn’t your mother leave? Why didn’t my mother leave?”

  “Abusers are very clever. They manipulate their victims into thinking that they’re powerless. My mother was convinced she’d starve without my father. She believed he’d take us away from her and she’d never see us again. Like most victims, my mother believed she deserved the treatment. If only she’d been a better wife, lover, cook, whatever, she wouldn’t be hit.”