She reached out and gasped as the pigskin plummeted into her waiting hold, nearly knocking the breath from her. “Run, Lucia, run!” Joe screamed, jumping up and down with his words.
She ran.
She dodged Dina easily, and she even managed to slip by the twins, because Joe and Uncle Mario ran great interference. She had a clear shot at the goal line. Hugging the ball tightly, she sprinted with all her energy toward it.
Then she felt arms around her waist, and suddenly she was lying flat on the ground, spitting out sand. She gasped for breath and twisted, opening her eyes—and stared into Ryan’s eyes.
His sunglasses had fallen off, and his eyes were as blue as the sky. He didn’t smile; he didn’t even seem to realize that he was lying half over her. He just stared down at her, and the sun began to seem hotter, the breeze lighter, as the heat of the day shimmered around them. A tremor ran through him, and for a moment the raw longing inside him was so visible that it brought anguish to her soul. She wondered instantly if her eyes were so naked, so pained.
Then the look was gone, washed away, as if it had been taken by the surf. Ryan leaped to his feet and reached down, brooking no resistance as he helped her to hers. He turned around and waved to Bill. “Hey! I’ve got to get into town. Sorry to be a quitter. See you all later.”
As quickly as that he left. Lucia watched as he trotted away.
The game was over for her, too. It seemed that the sun had ceased to shine, and the breeze to stir. She waved to Joe. “I’ll get the kids and make Sophie come out here for a while!”
Later on they all decided to try a new smorgasbord in town for dinner. Lucia was quiet, and Joe glanced at her curiously. “You are coming, aren’t you, Lucia?”
“No, uh, I think I’m going to stick around tonight and get some sleep, okay?” Actually, she planned to take some time to think about just what was happening to her. Besides, what if they invited Ryan along? She didn’t think she could stand it.
“No, Lucia, come on!” Dina protested.
But Lucia was firm. She went down to the beach with her cousins later in the afternoon for drinks and snacks, but she remained adamant about dinner. When they decided to go in and change, she lay back and waved.
“You’re going to turn into a raisin,” Dina warned her.
“I have great olive skin and tons of sun block,” Lucia assured her. She sat up. “Look, I’m happy. I want to be alone tonight. I’m tired. Honest. I’ll be back with the flow by tomorrow, I promise.”
“Okay, kid. See you in the a.m.”
“Right.”
She set her hat over her face and drifted into a light doze. She could still hear children playing on the beach, and the sound of the surf.
“Lucia.”
She looked up and smiled. Dina was back. She was in a soft gray pantsuit and looked terrific. Lucia whistled at her.
“Thanks.’ Dina grinned. “Too bad you aren’t an eligible guy. I came down to see if you want to change your mind and come.”
Lucia shook her head. “No, but thanks.”
“Party poopers.”
“Plural?” Lucia quizzed her.
“Yeah, we couldn’t talk Ryan into going out tonight, either. Joe went up to ask him to come with the group, but he said he couldn’t. I wonder why.”
“Maybe he has another date.”
“I don’t think so. I think he wanted to come, but he refused for some reason. Oh, who knows.”
“Did he, er, know that I wasn’t coming?”
“We didn’t say anything. Why?” Dina demanded curiously.
“No reason, just curious,” Lucia said quickly. She hesitated, wondering if she could change quickly and join them. But Dina was already on her way, tiptoeing over the sand and waving goodbye. “I see Joe at the car. I’m going to get over there before he starts with one of his fits. Boy, do I feel sorry for the girl he finally marries.”
Lucia smiled and waved in turn. “Have a good time.”
“We’ll miss you.”
“Good. You’re supposed to!”
Lucia watched until Dina was in the car and the whole group of them had driven away. Then she lay back in the sand and stared up at the sky. This was stupid. She should have gone with them.
She lay there for a while, but she was too restless to enjoy the soft breeze of early evening. After a while she stood and started walking down the beach. The surf curled over her toes, and the sand squeezed between them. Tiny crabs hurried for cover. It was growing late. All the mothers were bringing their little ones in for dinner. The beach belonged to her now, and to a few teenagers and scattered lovers, but even as she walked, the water crawled higher up the sand, which, more and more was hers and hers alone.
There was a break in the seawall by a set of wooden stairs. Lucia wandered over and sat on the wall, watching the night come in. The sunset was so beautiful as it fell over the Atlantic. A rainbow of soft colors burst forth, and the water shimmered beneath a boundless blanket of gold and magenta.
It was a time not to be alone, she thought. The view was one that should be shared by lovers.
She drew her knees up beneath her and hugged her arms around them. If only there was no such thing as the future. If only reality was the illusion, and fantasy was the truth.
I’m in love with him again, she thought, feeling the soft air of the night wash over her. No…she had never fallen out of love with him. But she had known from the very beginning that Ryan Dandridge had no desire for a lasting commitment. He had told her as much, honestly, openly.
She smiled slightly, remembering how adamant she had been in return. She, too, had been wary of commitment of any kind and had seriously doubted that she would ever marry again. She had been married once, for all of six weeks. It had been after high school and before college, a sheer disaster from start to finish. She had been determined, infatuated with the idea of being in love. His name had been Tim Dickerson, and he had been captain of the high-school football team. Her friends had all warned her that he was the love ’em and leave ’em type, but Lucia had assured them that he wouldn’t leave her—and he hadn’t. They had eloped, and within a week they had both regretted the action with all their hearts. Tim wanted a temptress in bed, but he himself hadn’t had the sensitivity of a chimp. In the miserable little apartment that they had rented, he had wanted a mother and a maid. He didn’t want to let his wife out of the apartment, except to go to work. He even resented it when she went to visit her family.
Lucia had still believed in her own future, and she hadn’t been about to scrub floors and work nine to six at the fast-food shack to put Tim through college. When she tried to explain that to him, he had slapped her, and that had been the end of her fantasy. She had packed her bags the second he left the house and gone home. And though it had been a humiliating experience, it had also been the best move she had ever made. Her mother had let her cry, and her father had never once said, “I told you so.” They had suggested that she get an annulment instead of a divorce, and to please them, she had gone through the painful process. It had taken her two years. And long after those two years had passed, she had avoided men like the bubonic plague.
It had been easy to assure Ryan Dandridge that she had no interest in marriage whatsoever. Except that it had slowly become a lie. Or maybe not so slowly. It was as if from the moment they met she had known that he was the right man for her. And no matter how much she had tried to deny it, even to herself, things hadn’t changed. She’d loved him then, and she loved him now.
He hadn’t wanted commitment…and neither had she. But they had barely met and begun dating before her thoughts were only of him. She’d known him only two weeks when they first made love, and two weeks later they were living together. She had forgotten all about going home to Atlanta, to her family, work or friends. It had been so easy to stay with him….
Until, of course, she had realized that he was the one man with whom she did want to spend her whole life. Then her fears and
frustrations at the impossibility of her dreams had erupted in anger, and she hadn’t been in the least reasonable. And finally, realizing what she was doing, she had just run away from it all, and from him.
Fighting with him hadn’t gotten her anywhere. She’d just wanted him all the more. Now it was terrible having him here. Having to see him. Having to feel him touch her, brush by her…
Kiss her…
She trembled suddenly in the soft evening breeze. She told herself that it had only gotten cold, and that she was sitting on an empty seawall with nothing on but her skimpy bikini. It had seemed perfectly respectable when there were dozens of other bikini-clad women running around, but now, with the beach deserted, she felt bare and cold and ridiculous, sitting there all alone.
She jumped down to the sand, then gasped out loud when she realized that there was no sand. She had landed in a foot of water. In amazement, she stared around and realized that the tide had risen so high that the beach had entirely disappeared. The sea came all the way up to the wall.
“Oh, no!” she said aloud to herself. Her blanket, her beach towel and her little canvas bag with her sun block and a few dollars and—most importantly—her key to the condominium, had all been left on the beach. The no longer existent beach.
She started running through the shallow surf, hoping against hope that the tide hadn’t risen so high all along the shore. But it had, of course. When she came, panting and shivering in earnest, to the spot in front of Ryan’s condo, there was still no sand to be seen, only the darkening waves.
She swore softly again. The light was fading quickly, and she could hardly see a thing. Goose pimples rose on her arms while she sloshed back and forth in the water, hoping that maybe her bag had sunk, and that she would eventually find it.
But neither sloshing nor swearing did her a bit of good. She spent at least half an hour searching; then, exhausted and cold, she hopped back up on the wall.
It was just about dark. The moon had risen, and the sun was just about to sink into total oblivion. The wind had grown stronger, and she was cold and wet and she didn’t have a key to get into her condo, or even a towel to wrap around her shoulders.
“Damn it!” she swore out loud. There was no one around to hear her. She turned around and stared at the condo. Someone had to be there. One of her aunts had to be staying with the children somewhere. Unless, of course, they had all decided to go out to dinner, too, taking the children with them.
No…someone had to be there.
She hurried along the wall to the white picket fence around the pool. She circled that and entered the parking lot, where she checked out the cars.
She didn’t recognize a single one—except for Ryan’s white Mercedes.
Groaning, she wandered back to the pool area and sank onto a lounge chair. Eventually someone would come back.
It was a nice night. She should enjoy it. The stars were just starting to twinkle like diamonds. It was really quite beautiful.
But it was as cold as Siberia! she told herself a moment later. She had goose bumps from head to toe, and her teeth were chattering. The ocean breeze wasn’t pleasant at all; it was downright frigid.
She leaped up again, hugging her arms fiercely around herself. She decided that she would just start knocking on doors. She was related to twenty-five of the people staying here. Someone just had to be in one of those rooms!
But fifteen minutes later and feeling five degrees cooler, she still hadn’t drawn a response. She had knocked on the door of every single condo occupied by a family member. And every single one of her relations seemed to have disappeared for the evening.
Having made that discovery, Lucia realized that she was terribly thirsty and her stomach was beginning to growl.
She could have endured all of those, she told herself. Maybe not with complacent fortitude, but she could have endured them all the same. It was the fact that she simply had to go to the ladies’ room—desperately—that finally convinced her that she would have to break down and call on Ryan Dandridge.
She marched into the elevator, pressed the proper button and crossed her arms over her chest. When the elevator opened, she hurried to Ryan’s door and banged hard, quickly, before she could even think about chickening out.
“Hey! Enough!” he thundered from inside; then the door flew open and he was staring at her, an irate scowl etched into his features. Wary surprise slowly replaced the scowl. “Lucia,” he said blankly.
“Yes.” He was still staring at her, blocking the entryway. She wasn’t formally dressed, but he wasn’t exactly suited up for company, either. He was clad in nothing but a cobalt-blue velour robe. Little tufts of hair teased at the V of the neckline and flourished on his hard, muscled calves beneath the hem of the garment. He examined Lucia from head to toe. He seemed to take in her crossed arms and scantily clad form, but apparently he didn’t notice the goose bumps, because he didn’t move aside.
“What do you want?” he asked her.
What if he had a date in there? she wondered in sudden panic. Maybe he was dressed for company.
“I want a key. I’m locked out!” she snapped. If the blonde was there, she just might die. Right on the spot. “Damn it, Ryan, I’m freezing to death! Would you please get me a key—”
“Lucia, there aren’t any more keys. I gave them all out.”
“What?”
“You have one, Dina has one—”
“And you don’t have a backup key?”
“I did. I had two. But Joe has one, and your Aunt Faith has the other. Go see Joe. He’ll let you in.”
“I can’t see Joe! Joe is out to dinner!”
“Oh, that’s right.” He paused staring at her. He scowled. “Why aren’t you out with them, where you’re supposed to be?”
“Because I—oh, never mind. Damn you, would you get out of the way, then? I’m freezing, and I—”
“And you what?”
“If you can’t let me into my own apartment, I have to borrow your facilities, and if you have company, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but it’s totally necessary!”
He burst out laughing. He seemed to see her at last, all of her, including the goose bumps that covered ninety-nine percent of her flesh. He cast her a mischievous smile and threw the door open wide, backing away from it. “Do come in,” he said softly.
She stepped in warily. “Said the spider to the fly.”
“Lucia, I’m not at your door—you’re at mine,” he taunted. But as she hurried down the hallway, she heard the door close with a sharp click. She spun around. He was leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest, smiling.
“I don’t have any company.”
Why did she feel so vastly relieved? Whether he did or didn’t, it was none of her business.
She was such a liar. She lied to herself constantly. She did care. Maybe things would be all right again once they were back in different states. Then she could bear the pain again. But while they were here, she couldn’t help but care.
He started walking toward her, and when he stopped in front of her, he placed his palms very lightly against her cheeks. “You are cold,” he said softly.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She stared at him as he smiled down at her, tenderly, gently. Then the smile faded, and his hands dropped. He stepped away, walking toward the open door to his bedroom. He spoke to her over his shoulder in a flat, toneless voice. “I’ll get you a towel and a robe. You’re frozen. You’ll get sick if you don’t do something.”
Lucia struggled to find her voice. “It really isn’t necessary. All I need is—”
He was back, shoving a soft terry-cloth pile into her arms, his teeth clenched in fury. “Take them. Take the damn things and take a damn shower before I’m responsible for your having caught a case of pneumonia.
“I’m not—”
“Lucia, you’re half naked as it is! Wouldn’t it be better to sit around in a robe?”
“I wasn’t going to sit
around—”
“What were you going to do? Stand around outside? Where are the rest of your clothes, anyway? What were you doing out at this time of night in nothing?”
“I’m not in nothing! This is a perfectly respectable bathing suit!”
“There isn’t a damn thing respectable about that bathing suit.”
“Get off it, Mr. Dandridge!”
“Hey! You came to my door, shivering and half naked.”
“I am not half naked.”
“Three quarters naked, then.”
“Let me use the crummy facilities and I’ll take my three-quarters-naked body elsewhere!”
“The hell you will!”
Suddenly he was dragging her through his bedroom to the bath. She tried to pull away, startled by his fury, and dismayed by her own temper. She was just in the mood for this fight. She was really ready for battle.
Except that she couldn’t win.
It didn’t seem to matter. He wasn’t going to let her get away, not until he reached the door to the bathroom. It was huge, larger than her own. There was a massive, glass-enclosed black tub in the middle, and she could see the stars through the skylight above.
He whirled her into the room, dropping the towel and robe on the floor. “Take a shower!” he snapped.
“You can’t make me!”
“Want to bet?”
Her heart started to flutter painfully against the walls of her chest. They were both simmering, she realized, both keyed up for this. They were both caught in a turmoil of thoughts and emotions, standing on the edge of some dangerous precipice, in danger of falling at any moment.
She walked forward and picked up the towel and the robe. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I think I will take a shower.”
He stepped back, nodded stiffly, then turned around and left her.
Lucia watched him go and gasped for breath, unaware that she had barely dared to breathe until now. Then she remembered how desperately she had needed to use the facilities, and she began shivering again, eager for the heat of a sizzling shower.
Lucia in Love Page 9