by Brenda Hill
Finally the closing day on my condo arrived. Before meeting Ben at the title company, Terry drove me for a final walk-through.
When we pulled into the driveway, I thought about my two years in that condo. So much had happened in that short time, so many things to change my life, from the gaiety of moving in to the terror I had lived with every day after Mac was diagnosed. Then losing him. Discovering Jenna....
“You know,” I told Terry, “I don’t think I want to go in. Would you mind doing the honors?”
As always, he understood, and simply squeezed my hand.
While he was gone, I looked up at the sky, bright blue with scattered cloud puffs. Even though the condo had held a lot of sadness for me, it had also held joy. I fell in love while living there, and because of the love and understanding I’d learned from Terry, I now had a new relationship with my daughter.
Life was good.
***
Terry and I met Ben at the title company, and after all the paperwork was signed, I paid off the mortgage Mac had taken and then sold the condo to Ben. Because of the real estate boom in the area, I had enough left for the minimum down payment on the new house and I could finally repay Stan and Maggie, which I did, writing a cashier’s check for the full amount and sending it Federal Express. Now I was truly free of the past.
Or so I thought.
One evening Terry and I were cleaning the kitchen after a light dinner when my cell phone rang. It was Jenna.
“Please don’t hang up.”
“What do you want?” My tone of voice must have alerted Terry. He glanced sharply at me.
“Want some privacy?” he whispered. When I shook my head, he sat down across the table from me.
“Please hear me out,” Jenna was saying. “I know this has been difficult for you—”
“Difficult? ”
“Okay,” Jenna said, “perhaps difficult isn’t the right word. All else aside, though, could you possibly take just a moment and think what it’s been like for me? Loving a married man, having his child—”
“Do I need to remind you that you chose that life? You knew Mac was married from the beginning.”
“I know, Lisa. I’m not entirely blameless.”
“You’re not entirely blameless? I can’t believe you. I’m hanging up now.” Before I checked the off button, I heard her voice through the phone.
“Lisa! Wait!”
For some unknown reason, I put the phone to my ear.
“Think of Marsh,” Jenna began.
“Why on earth would I want to give your illegitimate son any thought at all?”
“Because he’s your daughter’s half-brother, after all, and someday she may want to meet him. It’ll be awkward for her if you’re hostile.”
Now I wanted to slam down the phone. “How wonderful that you’re so concerned about my daughter. I’m touched.” I rolled my eyes at Terry, but he didn’t respond except to give me a poignant smile. Instantly, I recalled his earlier comments about how lonely it had been for him without his father and how he wished I would consider talking to Marsh.
I wasn’t ready for that. But as much as I hated to admit Jenna was right about anything, she did have a point about Shanna.
“Jenna, I’m not ready to talk to your son and I can’t promise that I ever will. But....” My throat closed and I couldn’t continue. “Wait.” Still holding the cordless, I paced, talked to myself, paced some more.
“Lisa! You still there?” Jenna yelled through the phone.
I ignored her and paced again. Damn, I didn’t want to do this.
“Lisa, talk to me!”
Finally, I sat on Terry’s lap and raised the phone.
“I’m here,” I told Jenna. “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll think about it.”
When Terry smiled, I knew I’d said the right thing.
***
Two weeks before we were supposed to close on the house I pestered Ben to make some calls to check the progress. I wanted to hurry the process and get all the paperwork done as soon as possible, but he couldn’t find out anything new. Agencies, especially government agencies, work at their own pace and delays were normal.
“Just be patient, Lisa,” he told me. “It’ll happen.”
To pass the time, I did more office work. One morning I answered phones and tried to work up enough energy to preview houses in the ungodly heat. Even the fronds on palm trees hung limp.
The office door opened, and Andrea walked in. I didn’t know how she did it, but even in the summer heat she looked as elegant as ever in a cream-colored linen pantsuit.
“I took your advice, and I’m building my listings notebook,” she told me. “You were right. It helps.”
“Have you made your first sale?”
She shook her head. “I’ve written two contracts, but they both fell through. If I don’t do something quick, I’m going to have to go to plan B.”
“What’s plan B?”
“Move in with my kids.”
“Oh, no! That’s a fate worse than death!” We both laughed.
“I’m supposed to give you a message,” Andrea said.
“Oh? From who?”
“Rick something. He said to tell you that your cop friend plays rough.”
My smile faded and my mouth went dry. “Where did you see him?”
“He was standing by your car when I drove up. He said he was an agent here and that you’d know what he meant. Poor guy. Had he been in an accident?”
Dropping the papers in my hand, I ran to the front window. My car sat between a truck and a Blazer, but I didn’t see Rick’s car. Opening the front door, I checked the parking lot, then ran to the street. Still no sign of Rick. Back in the office, I headed for my desk.
“What’s the matter, Lisa?” Andrea asked. “Who was that guy? Did I do something wrong?”
“You said he looked like he’d been in an accident. Why did you think that?”
“He had bandages on his face and one eye was swollen shut.”
Jack had found him then. If I knew Rick at all, he’d really want revenge now.
“Get Ben, Andrea. Please,” I said, gathering papers to stuff in my briefcase. By the time Ben came hurrying out of his office, I was standing by the door, looking out.
“What’s the trouble, Lisa?” Ben asked me. “Andrea said something about Rick.”
“I can’t explain right now. Just walk me to my car. Please, Ben. I’ll explain everything later.”
“I hope you’ll tell me what this is about,” he said before I got into the car. “If you’re having a problem with Rick, I want to know.”
“I’ll tell you about it later, Ben. I promise.” And then, locking the doors, I backed out of the parking space.
Was Rick watching? Would he follow me home?
Three blocks from the office, just before the freeway on-ramp, traffic began to slow on Redlands Boulevard and I realized there was a huge jam ahead. Everything in my two lanes slowed to a stop; we were packed so tightly together that I couldn’t even see what the problem was.
Of all times for this to happen. I felt like a target, exposed and vulnerable. After sitting through two lights, I eased forward just enough to see the construction trucks blocking the right lane. From all indications it looked as if I’d be sitting through a few more lights, so, concerned with my car overheating, I shut off the air conditioner and lowered the window. Exhaust filled the air and my head throbbed. I felt sick. When Rick appeared outside my window, I was so startled I didn’t react except to stare.
“I’m watching,” he calmly said, as if it were perfectly natural to stand in the middle of stalled traffic on a busy California street and have a conversation with me.
His words propelled me into action. I reached into my handbag for my stun gun and pulled it out.
Lazily he glanced at the gun and grinned. “You think something like that will stop me? We’re not finished, you know.”
“Finished with what, Rick?
Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t like cops visiting me at home,” he said, touching his swollen nose. “It hurts.”
“Leave me alone,” I told him, rolling up the window. The vehicles ahead started moving so I eased forward enough to cut through a car lot to a back road. My hands shaking, I punched in Terry’s number on my cell phone, but he didn’t answer. Leaving word for him to call, I headed for his apartment, but when I came to another on-ramp for I-10 east, I took it, watching out the windows and rearview mirror for Rick’s car.
Did he know I had moved? If not, I didn’t want to lead him to Terry’s apartment. If he were following me, he’d soon figure it out, but maybe not for a couple of days, long enough for me to decide what to do.
Taking the Yucaipa exit, I headed for the condo, wondering how I could lose him. I still hadn’t seen his car so I wasn’t certain he was following, but I didn’t want to take chances. I made a couple of quick turns onto side streets and took the back way to Terry’s apartment.
When I finally pulled into the parking lot, I saw Terry’s Lexus in his regular spot. That was strange. If he was home, why hadn’t he returned my call?
Just as I got out of the car, I saw Terry and Betty leaving the building together. She had never visited his apartment, refusing to believe the reality of the divorce, so I wondered what had brought her there today.
Terry spotted me and headed my way but Betty lagged behind. She looked terrible. Her slacks and plaid blouse were wrinkled as if she’d slept in them and her frizzy hair was corkscrewed in all directions. Her blotchy complexion told me she had been crying.
“Honey, I’m sorry,” Terry whispered. “I couldn’t stop her from coming.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We received an offer on the house today, a good one and I accepted it. I guess the divorce is real to her now.”
Her steps dragging as if it were an effort to put one foot in front of the other, she walked up to me and regarded me with a hopeless expression. In a voice so soft I could barely hear, she said, “I could’ve gotten him back if it hadn’t been for you.”
Her haunted eyes pierced me, and I sat, unable to speak.
“Betty,” Terry said, gently taking her arm, trying to pull her away, “you know that’s not true.”
She turned back to me. “You did this to me.”
“I’m so sorry, Lisa,” Terry said, his eyes flashing a helpless look. “I never wanted this to happen.” He managed to pull Betty away from my car. “Let’s get you home. I’ll drive.”
“Home? Yes,” she said, her voice listless, “I want to go home.”
“Will you follow us?” he asked me. When I hesitated, he added, “Please?”
Over the next half hour, I kept the blue Honda in sight as it traveled to Loma Linda, blindly turning when it did and automatically stopping at red lights.
I felt like an adulterer. No matter that they were divorcing, she still loved him and had obviously hoped they would reconcile. When they pulled into the driveway, I sat, my senses numb, and waited until Terry led her to the front door. I could see them talking; rather, she looked like she was pleading. Terry kept shaking his head. Finally, he turned and made his way to my car.
“Jesus,” he said, sliding onto the passenger seat. “I’m sorry you were subjected to that.”
I said nothing, couldn’t even look at him.
“Honey? You all right?”
“This is not going to work.”
He leaned forward to study me. “You’re shaking. Let me drive.” We changed seats. He kept staring at me as I moved like a zombie.
On the way home, he kept apologizing, telling me that he was doing everything for Betty that he could, but I couldn’t forget her stricken face. No matter how I tried to sort the situation, it just didn’t seem right.
When he opened his apartment door, I stood looking at what I had thought was my piece of heaven. But now I felt remote, as if I were looking at an old picture of something I had once treasured, but that was no longer part of my life. Standing there, with Terry hovering behind me, I could feel Betty’s anguish, could hear the echo of her tears.
How could I possibly be happy when my very existence made another woman miserable? I couldn’t help but be affected. I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t meet Terry’s eyes.
“Lisa, you’re scaring me.” He shook me.
I wanted him to shake me, wanted him to shake away the terrible emptiness I felt. I wanted him to take away the memory of Betty’s eyes.
“Oh, honey, please, please,” he said, taking me in his arms.
He held me close to him, but I felt nothing. I only knew that I had to leave these few rooms where I now felt a trespasser on someone else’s life.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Shrugging out of Terry’s arms, I stumbled to the closet for my suitcase and stuffed clothes from my dresser drawers into it.
“Lisa, honey, what are you doing?” Terry blocked my way.
When I turned around to go to the bathroom for my toiletries, he hurried to step in front of me. I pushed past him.
“Please,” he said, “stop and talk to me.”
I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t listen to his voice. I forced myself to concentrate on my clothes, had get my clothes together.
And then he watched, silent, as I piled clothes on the bed and threw them in the suitcase. When there was no more room, I still had shoes to pack. Standing in the middle of the bedroom floor, I held one pair of black pumps and glanced at the full suitcase, then to clothes still piled on the bed. I couldn’t think what to do. Standing in the middle of the bedroom floor, I held those damn shoes, immobilized, trying to figure out a solution. We had broken the moving boxes down to store them in the apartment garage for our move to the house. Oh, God, the house....
Suddenly my mind was racing. I couldn’t live in that house, not now. But what was I to do? To try to back out now would put everyone in a mess. HUD had approved my contract and had removed the house from their list. The mortgage company had begun the process of a new FHA loan. Fees were involved. Even if I could legally back out now, I’d lose my deposit. Perhaps I could continue the process until closing, and then sign it over to Ben. But then, I would be an investor instead of an owner/occupant. Would HUD penalize me as a fraud?
“For God’s sake, Lisa.”
Terry took the shoes from my hands and pulled me down on the bed.
“Honey, let’s talk about this,” he said. “I’m so sorry this happened—”
At last I was able to face him. “Did you see her eyes?” I asked.
“Of course I did. That house was the last hold she had on me and now that it’s selling, she now realizes the marriage is truly over. She’s upset and that’s understandable, but you can’t let that stop us from living our own lives.”
“But you don’t understand,” I told him. “I’m the other woman.” I laughed, an agony-filled sound. “Of all people, I’m the other woman.”
“This is crazy, Lisa. You’re no such thing. It wouldn’t matter if we’d been divorced for day or a lifetime. She’d still live with the hope that I’d come back to her.” He tried to pull me into his arms, but I was unyielding. No amount of hugs could fix this.
“I can’t do it, Terry. I can’t build my happiness on someone else’s tragedy.”
“Tragedy? Something’s not right here.” He rose and paced back and forth. “You’re saying I should go back to Betty, throw away all chance of happiness in my own life and live with her because it makes her happy?”
He was right. Something was off but my numbed brain couldn’t figure it out.
“What about all those years I spent doing the right thing?” he continued when I didn’t respond. “How much of my life am I supposed to sacrifice for someone else? Aren’t I entitled to a life?”
“When you put it that way, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Well then, stop this craziness and let’s forget this ever happene
d.”
“But it did happen, Terry. That’s the point and I can’t forget.” Picking up the dropped shoes, I stood. “I don’t know the answer. I just know I can’t be the cause of another woman’s heartbreak.”
Leaving the shoes abandoned on the bedroom floor, I picked up the suitcase and went to the front door.
“You’re determined to leave?” he said, putting his hand over mine as I reached for the knob.
“I have to,” I said. “I think you know that I have to,”
“I wish you wouldn’t do this, Lisa.” Terry took the suitcase from me. “But I can’t stop you if you’re determined. But remember this. If you go, you’re throwing away the rest of our lives. Certainly the rest of mine.” He disappeared out the door.
Placing my key on the end table, I crossed the threshold, leaving behind the one place on earth I had truly loved, the only home where I had ever felt truly loved.
Terry was silent as he put my suitcase in the back seat of my car. When I said something about sending for the rest of my things, he asked me where I was going to go.
“A hotel, perhaps,” I told him numbly. “I don’t know.”
“Will you at least call me when you get there? Let me know where you are?”
“What good would it do?” I asked, turning the key in the ignition. After I eased out of the driveway and turned the car around, I couldn’t look back.
***
It wasn’t until I had checked into the hotel that I remembered Rick. As much as I dreaded making the call, I had to let Terry know.
Gripping the phone, I waited for him to answer, eager to hear his voice one more time, knowing it would just prolong the agony.
Why did this have to happen? Why did I have to see Betty’s pain? I should have been able to guess what she must have been feeling after so many years of marriage, even if they had divorced. But I had been so wrapped up in loving a man completely for the first time in my life that I had refused to think of her as an actual person.