by Kate Bell
“Allie?” Lucy asked when I hadn’t said anything for a minute or so.
“Uh, yeah?” I said. I spotted a little girl in a tutu toward the front of the line, spinning around and doing pirouettes. She was adorable and reminded me of Jennifer when she was that age.
“Are you okay?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. Lucy, I have to go. I’ll call you later and we can discuss outfits,” I said and hung up.
I realized that I knew the little girl’s mother. Rebecca Holding. She had been Rebecca Stuart before getting married. She was the older sister of Thad’s first girlfriend. I had also babysat for her several times when she was about six.
The line moved quickly and Rebecca sat at a table with her daughter. I finally got to the front of the line and ordered a vanilla latte and then headed toward Rebecca’s table.
“Rebecca?” I said, approaching the table.
She looked up from her phone. “Oh, Allie! It’s been such a long time!” she said and stood up and gave me a quick hug.
“It seems like it’s been forever. Now, who is this?” I asked, looking at the little girl.
“This is Sarah, my daughter,” she said. “Why don’t you have a seat, Allie?”
I thought she’d never ask. I sat down. “Hi, Sarah, I knew your mommy when she was about your age.”
Sarah had a cup of cocoa in front of her that was largely being ignored while she played with the tiny ballerina she held in her hand. She smiled at me though and then looked shyly away.
“Sorry,” Rebecca said. “She’s a shy one.”
“She’s adorable,” I said. “And from the looks of it, a ballerina.”
“Oh, she loves her dance class,” Rebecca said. “We just came from there.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said. “Is it a big class?”
“There are about twenty girls, I think,” Rebecca said and took a drink of her coffee.
“Well, I bet Sarah is the most talented,” I said. The little girl looked at me shyly again but didn’t say anything. “I bet recitals are fun.”
“Oh, they are. I love watching her dance,” Rebecca said. Parental pride showed on her face.
“It’s good to see a parent that enjoys their children’s activities,” I said. “I wish all parents did. I miss my own kids being that little.” Okay, I was leading, hoping for some information.
“Oh, tell me about it,” she said, shaking her head. “Some don’t even show up for recitals.”
I clucked my tongue and shook my head.
She glanced around and then said in a low voice, “Take for instance, our illustrious mayor. He showed up to the last recital with alcohol on his breath!”
Bingo.
“What?” I said, alarmed. “Are you serious?”
She nodded. “Showed up the last five minutes of the recital. When I went to speak to him and tell him how well his daughter had performed, I could smell it on his breath. And it was the middle of the day!”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s terrible!”
“Uh huh. Unreal. Of course, his daughter had no idea he hadn’t been there for the whole thing because he told her he had been. But I saw him slip in the back those last five minutes.”
I sat back and took this in. It was exactly what I wanted to know. Bob Payne would have had enough time to give Diana the poison apple and get back for the last five minutes of the recital. Alec was going to be proud of me when I told him about this.
***
I wore a black skirt with a black sweater, black pumps, and a simple strand of pearls for our date. I hoped I hadn’t overdone it. I was still uncomfortable with the idea of dating and part of me still thought Alec didn’t want a real date with me, even though he had said he did.
I was sitting across from him at Antonio’s. He was nervously fidgeting in his chair and it took all the self-control I had not to do the same.
“You look very nice,” he said, looking up from his menu.
I gave him a smile. “Thank you,” I said. I had expected him to say it when he picked me up, and when he didn’t, I thought maybe I had made a bad choice.
“What are you going to have?” he asked me.
“I’m thinking about the chicken piccata,” I said. Several years ago Antonio’s had been picketed because they served veal piccata. Ever since then, the restaurant had substituted chicken. I didn’t care. Chicken was fine by me.
“That’s an excellent choice,” he said and smiled at me. “I think I might go with the lasagna. With all that running I’ve been doing, I could use some extra carbs.”
I giggled. There was nothing funny though. I think we were both feeling slightly uncomfortable.
“So, I have some news about the investigation into Diana’s death,” I said after the waiter had taken our orders. I had held on to the information I had gotten from Rebecca. It was no small feat, let me tell you.
His eyebrows arched upward. “Allie, please,” he began, but I cut him off.
“Hear me out. I was getting coffee earlier and ran into a woman I babysat when she was younger. She has a daughter that’s in the same dance class as Bob Payne’s daughter,” I said and picked up my water glass. “She said Bob was late to the recital. Like, he nearly missed it and was only there the last five minutes.”
Alec sat back in his chair. He had a nice, dark suit on. Something he would probably wear to work, but he somehow made it look un-work-like for the evening. “I wish you wouldn’t get involved. There is a killer on the loose, you know. Look what almost happened with the last one. If I had been a few minutes later, it might have been the end of you.”
“Alec, Bob Payne had alcohol on his breath,” I said, ignoring his warning.
He shrugged his shoulders. “And what does that prove? No one said anything about alcohol being involved here.”
“I know that, but maybe he went for a drink to get his nerve up? Come on, Alec, this is the second deception for Bob. He said he was at his daughter’s recital, but failed to say it was only for the last five minutes. He would have had plenty of time to get over to the church and give Diana the poison apple.”
Alec stared down at the table for a few moments. “Look, I’ll admit that Bob Payne hasn’t been truthful with us. But there’s still no proof he did anything.”
I sighed. “Will you at least take it into consideration?”
“Of course I will. That is if we can have dinner without discussing this case?” he asked, looking me in the eye.
“Fine,” I said. The truth was, I was a little annoyed that he didn’t take my help more seriously. I really wanted to help him and I felt like I was getting some real clues about the murder.
“Don’t ‘fine’ me,” he said. “Allie, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your help. It’s just that it’s dangerous and I don’t want to get you involved. And I didn’t invite you to dinner so we could talk about a case. I just wanted to get to know you better.”
I sat back in my chair. “Okay. We can let it go. For tonight.” I gave him a little smile.
He shook his head at me. “So tell me, how is blogging going?”
“It’s going well. I’m a little behind right now,” I said. “But to be honest, sometimes I feel like I’m just rehashing the same old subjects over and over. And I guess in a way, I am. I mean, new people who have just lost someone will find me and start following my blog and leave comments. Since they’ve had a recent loss, they’re starting at the beginning of the grieving process. So then, I restart at the beginning with them.”
He nodded. “It’s a needed service you’re providing. Today’s world is fast paced and people don’t have time to book appointments with therapists. But they can read an article you’ve written and maybe leave a comment or two and interact with you.”
I looked at him. He really got it. “Thank you for understanding.”
Our eyes met. “I guess I can see where it would be difficult. Maybe it keeps you from moving on. But people need this,” he said.
>
I swallowed hard. Was it keeping me from moving on? Keeping me from meeting someone new to love? Did I even want to love someone again? Lots of my readers had done so. It had happened on more than a few occasions where I would interact with someone for months about the loss of their spouse, only to have them suddenly disappear. Then months later, they would drop me a line to tell me how they were doing. And many times, they had found someone new to love. Did I envy them? Maybe. Maybe not.
The waiter brought our meals and my chicken piccata smelled wonderful. “This looks really good,” I said and for some reason, I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes.
“It certainly does,” he said, and looked at me again. “Are you okay?”
I made myself smile big. “Yes, I’m fine. So, Alec, tell me a little about your family.” I had to change the subject, or I was going to have a complete meltdown.
“I’m an only child. My mother was a third-grade teacher and my father was a beat cop. Not much else to say,” he said and took a bite of his lasagna. “Mmm, wonderful,” he said.
“Did you grow up in Portland?” I asked. I felt like I knew so little about him. He had to have a life outside of work.
“Yes. I traveled a little after college, but then I went back. Settled down. After my divorce, I moved to Bangor. Nothing terribly exciting,” he said, and reached for the breadbasket.
“What happened with your marriage?” I asked, daring to venture into unknown territory. Alec seemed to have secrets, and I hoped none of them were terrible. I hoped he would open up to me.
His mouth formed a hard line. He looked up at me. “She decided that she wasn’t being fulfilled in the marriage, so she left.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I thought we were fine. We didn’t have kids because she didn’t want them and I thought she was happy. I guess I was wrong.”
There was pain behind those words, and I was sure he wasn’t someone that showed it often. “I’m sorry. Sometimes things happen that we can’t change.”
“That’s for sure,” he said, reaching for the bottle of red wine the waiter had left. “Would you like some?”
“I would love some. But only a tiny bit. I’m not a drinker.”
He poured an inch in my glass and a little more than that in his. I didn’t know much about wine. That had been Thaddeus’s forte’. Frankly, I didn’t care much about it. But I cared if the man I was with was a heavy drinker or not and it looked like Alec wasn’t.
“So tell me about your husband,” he said.
I smiled. This was dangerous territory as well. Sometimes talking about him made me cry. I didn’t think I would ever get over that. “He was an English teacher at the local junior college. He loved to teach. His parents wanted him to get his doctorate and teach at the university level, but Thaddeus was satisfied with his position where he was. He loved sailing, and he loved his family.” I could feel my eyes mist over and I looked away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,” Alec said. He reached across the table and put his hand over mine.
“No. Don’t be sorry. Alec, when you love someone and you lose them to death, it’s not something you get over quickly. Maybe never. But that doesn’t mean you don’t go on.”
He smiled and nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
I gazed at his handsome face. How had I been so lucky to find someone like him? I hoped I wasn’t rushing things, but there was something about Alec that made me extraordinarily happy.
Chapter Seventeen
I sat on the edge of my seat on the drive home. We had had a wonderful evening just getting to know one another better. I knew he liked the color blue, dogs, and occasionally red wine. He knew I like green, cats, and sweet tea. This was the stuff relationships were made of.
The big question was, would he kiss me? I was an old-fashioned girl, and cute as he was, that was all he’d get out of me. If that was what he wanted, anyway. I wasn’t sure it was what I wanted though. Part of me was all for it and was rooting for him to do it. The other part of me was remembering my first kiss with Thaddeus. That’s a mood killer. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about dating, much less kissing, someone else. The good news was that at least Jennifer wouldn’t be home. She would freak out if there was even a hint of dating, let alone kissing.
And then we pulled into the driveway and I saw Jennifer’s car parked out front. I sighed inwardly. What was she doing home? She had college life to enjoy.
I felt my stomach twist up. How would I explain this to her? And then how would I explain to Alec that my grown daughter was going to have a hissy fit over me dating him?
Maybe I could ditch him and get him to stay in the car. But the truth was, I didn’t want to. I wanted him to walk me to my door and kiss me goodnight. There. I suddenly did know what I wanted.
He got out and came around to my side and opened the door. He was a gentleman. “I had a wonderful evening,” he said and took my hand.
“So did I,” I said and gave him a big smile while glancing sideways at the front door. There was no sign of Jennifer, so maybe we could make it quick.
We walked up to the front step, and I turned toward him. Was this really going to happen?
“I’d really like to see you again,” he said, looking into my eyes.
“Me too,” I said. And I did. I wanted to see him again, and again and again.
Before I knew it, he leaned in and kissed me. My stomach flip-flopped, and I forgot to be on the lookout for Jennifer. For a few seconds, time stood still.
“I’ll see you,” he said and took a few steps backward, still looking at me, before turning completely around and heading back to his car.
I watched him for a minute and then giggled like a schoolgirl and headed into the house.
“Oh! Jennifer, I wasn’t expecting you to be home,” I said when I nearly collided with her as I walked through the door. Had she seen me kiss Alec?
“I know, I was bored at the dorm. All my friends have gone home for the weekend so I thought I’d hang out here,” she said. “Where’d you go?”
I smiled. She hadn’t seen anything. If she had, she would either be protesting right now or giving me the cold shoulder. “I went and grabbed a bite to eat. I’m back now though. You know, Jennifer, you should really try to socialize more. Maybe go somewhere with your friends on the weekend.” My car was in the garage and she probably hadn’t noticed I didn’t drive myself home. I hoped she wouldn’t ask if I went out to eat with anyone.
She sighed dramatically. “I know, Mom. I need to get out more. I’ll try. I would think you would be thrilled to get to spend more time with your only daughter,” she pouted.
“Oh, of course I am, honey,” I said and patted her arm as I headed to the hall closet to hang up my coat. “We can make cookies if you want.”
“That sounds good,” she said.
***
After tossing and turning in bed for a couple of hours, I finally got up. I turned on the lamp on my bedside table and opened my laptop. How did people move on from grief? All I had ever done was rehash it with others. Every time a person new to my blog and new to grief contacted me, I would go back to the beginning of the process with them. It was all I knew to do to help. When Thaddeus died, I wished at the time that I had someone to hold my hand. Someone that had walked this path ahead of me, so I felt… I don’t know, obligated? Was obligated the word I was looking for?
I sighed. I didn’t want to live my life stuck in grief. But I didn’t want to stop helping others, either. I searched for terms like “move on from grief,” “stop living in grief,” and “how to help others grieve without grieving yourself.”
There were lots of articles and blogs out there and I spent the next hour reading. But in the end, I needed to figure out where I really was in all of this. It had been eight years and wasn’t that enough? I thought perhaps it was.
I didn’t want to drag Alec into my grief. I opened up Word and stared at a blank page. How to begin? Then the w
ords of a woman I had once helped to move on from grief, came to me.
Grief feels like dying. When your loved one dies, that’s all you want to do, too. You want to be with them and comfort them. You want to talk to them. But the truth is, your loved one only wants what’s best for you, and that’s moving on and live life again.
A tear rolled down my cheek, and I began.
Chapter Eighteen
I was getting dressed the next morning when my phone rang. I had just stepped out of the shower after my morning run, and wrapped a towel around my wet hair. I went in search of my phone and found it on a side table next to the couch. It was Alec, so I grabbed it and answered before he hung up.
“Hello, Alec,” I said.
“Sorry, I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asked.
“No, I just got out of the shower. I was sort of expecting to see you on the running trail,” I said, trying not to sound too disappointed. Last night had been wonderful, sweet goodnight kiss and all.
“Sorry, I overslept. I think someone may have kept me out later than I had planned,” he teased.
“Well, shame on whoever that might have been,” I said, heading back to the bedroom.
“So, believe it or not, I’m calling for a reason,” he said. “You won’t believe it, but I thought maybe you’d like to accompany me on a little fact-finding mission.”
My ears perked up. “Where to?”
“I think it’s worth it to ask the mayor a few more questions. I have it on good authority that the mayor likes to spend time at the golf course on his days off from the bank,” he said. “But of course, this has to be kept in the strictest of confidence.”