Long Distance Lover

by Donna Hill

  When she met David, he was the knight in shining armor, ready to do battle against the world for her. He offered her something she’d never had before—hope and someone who genuinely cared about her. Grandma Stella was more than happy to turn guardianship over to David. Kelly was one less thing she’d have to worry about.

  She remembered well the evening he discovered that she couldn’t read. They’d been sitting in his living room. He was reading the newspaper and she was pretending to read her history book.

  “How’s things in school?” he’d asked, putting the paper aside and focusing on her.

  She shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

  “What are you studying so hard?”

  “History.”

  He chuckled. “My favorite subject. So what are you reading about?”

  Her gaze jerked in his direction and then away. “Nothing really.”

  “Nothing?” He laughed again. “Well you’ve been reading nothing for a mighty long time. Are you stuck on something?”

  She shook her head.

  “So what’s the section about?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice snapped like a whip. “I’m getting tired. Gonna go to bed.”

  “Hold on a sec.” He reached out and held her wrist as she walked past him. He took the book from her hand and frowned. “I thought you said you were studying history.”

  “I am.”

  “This is English lit.”

  She swallowed. “That’s what I meant.” She wanted to die. She didn’t care what anyone else thought of her—well maybe she did. But what David thought really mattered. She didn’t want to disappoint him or for him to be disgusted by her.

  “Sit down, sweetheart.”

  His voice was so gentle, so kind, her legs wobbled as she slowly sat down.

  “No matter what you tell me it will stay between you and me.” He lifted her head up with a finger beneath her chin. He looked into her eyes. “Tell me what’s really going on.”

  Her mouth trembled. She couldn’t. She’d tell him a lie, tell him anything but her shameful truth.

  “It’s okay.” He stroked her shoulder. “Can you read, Kelly?”

  Her stomach rose to her throat and she knew she was going to throw up her shame right on his living room floor.

  She blinked rapidly to stem the tears that welled in her eyes. “Sometimes,” she whispered.

  He frowned, confused. “Sometimes? I don’t understand.”

  “Sometimes I can read the words and sometimes I can’t. I can’t make out the letters.”

  He was silent and she knew that he was going to get up and throw her stupid ass out.

  “But sometimes you can?”

  She nodded.

  “Does your grandmother know?”

  She shrugged. “She thinks I’m dumb, like my teachers and the kids in my class. They all do.” She sniffed hard and swiped at her wet eyes with the back of her hand.

  “You’re not dumb.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close, talking softly and gently. “From now on, you can depend on me. Understand?” She nodded against his chest. “First thing is we’re gonna get you out of that school. You’re a talented athlete and I know we can get you a scholarship to a private high school and then college. You only have a year to go before graduation. And this stays between us. I’ll make sure of it,” he’d said. “I promise.”

  He’d kept his promise. More than twelve years had passed and David never breathed a word to anyone. He’d taken care of her every need and kept her secret.

  But over the past few months she’d battled with the genie in the bottle. She wanted to let it out. She wanted to be free of the constraints of pretending. She wanted to find a way to be better. She longed to read a novel without battling the words on the page or to pick up a magazine and look at more than the pictures. Just before the accident she’d sent away for some information on dyslexia, and found that there were ways to treat it. The woman she spoke to on the phone said Kelly wouldn’t be cured but she could find ways to manage it.

  That’s all she wanted—a way to manage it. But the more she tried to assert herself, take more control over her life, the more David resisted. And as fate would have it, she needed him now more than ever.

  She picked up one of the prescription bottles. Mega multivitamins. Her mouth flickered. Today was an okay day.

  Chapter 17

  He finally had a day off, the first in weeks and he planned to take every advantage. The Sunday morning was crisp, clear with just enough warmth in the air to make it pleasant without it becoming uncomfortable. He put on an old pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, grabbed a book from the three-tiered bookcase and headed out.

  Manhattan on any day was always busy, but there was a different vibe, a more contained energy in the bustling city on Sunday. The pedestrians strolled rather than hurried, they peeked in store windows and lingered on corners. They took their time with their meals in the rows of outdoor cafés. Gone were the briefcases and laptop carrying bags, designer pocketbooks and business suits, replaced with department store shopping bags, baby strollers, jogging outfits and a parade of pooches in varying sizes and breeds.

  Alex loved it here. Born and raised on One Hundred and Twentieth Street, he wouldn’t trade it in for anyplace else, even though he had the opportunity to travel to many corners of the world. Nothing could compare to home.

  He strolled down One Hundred and Tenth Street with the intention of killing a few relaxing hours in Central Park—perhaps down by the lake, he thought as he stopped at a corner kiosk and picked up the Sunday Times.

  Armed with plenty to read, he crossed Fifth Avenue and entered the park just as he heard his name being called. He looked across a patch of concrete and grass and saw Charisse waving at him. She was walking in his direction.

  “Hutch.” She leaned forward for a kiss.

  “How are you?”

  “Pretty good. Thought I’d get out of the house for a while.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  She looked into his coffee-colored eyes. “Why haven’t you called me? Have I done something?”

  “No. Don’t be silly. You know how busy I can get. I’m sorry. It’s been really hectic at the hospital.”

  She reached out and stroked his jaw. “I don’t know why you don’t go into private practice. You could cut down on your hours, choose your patients and…we could spend more time together.” She smiled.

  “Not that easy and it really isn’t what I want to do. I like where I am.”

  She pushed out a breath. “Fine. Anyway, you’re here now and so am I.” She pressed up closer. “Let’s make up for lost time. Spend the day together.”

  This was not the plan. “Charisse—”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer this time, Hutch. You owe me,” she added, her voice dropping down to a seductive note. “I have a blanket over there and a few snacks.” She took his hand. “Come on,” she said with a jerk of her head.

  Unable to escape gracefully, he followed her across the grass to her blanket and sat down. He looked at all the stuff she’d brought.

  “Are you sure you weren’t planning on meeting someone here?” He grinned.

  Charisse laughed. Her dimples flashed and he remembered how beautiful she was.

  “You know I’m a girl that always comes prepared.” She opened the wicker basket and pulled out two clear plastic cups followed by a bottle of white wine. “Would you do the honors?” she asked, handing him the bottle.

  While Alex opened the bottle, Charisse took out crackers, an assortment of cheeses, bite-size pieces of chicken in a sealed tray, napkins and fancy paper plates.

  “Impressive,” Alex said, chuckling.

  “Help
yourself. It’s not much but enough to take off the edge and absorb the wine.” She held out her glass and Alex obliged her by filling it.

  Charisse reclined on the blanket and focused on Alex. “You look good, Hutch,” she said, her comment spoken with soft sincerity.

  “This old thing,” he joked.

  “You know what I mean.” She tapped him on the knee with her free hand.

  “So do you.”

  She lowered her gaze then looked directly into his eyes. “I…I’m in love with you, Alex.”

  Something hit him in the chest and he couldn’t immediately respond. Love.

  She emptied her glass then put it down. She sat up, then sat cross-legged and looked at Alex. She reached for his hands and took them in hers.

  “I didn’t tell you that because I want you to say the same thing to me. Although I’d love to hear it.” A nervous laugh followed. “I told you because I wanted you to know. I wanted you to know that this isn’t a game for me.” Her eyes roamed over his face. “I think we could do wonderful things together, Alex. I know we could.” She took a breath. “But I won’t wait for you forever. I can’t. So…hopefully, one day soon, you’ll be able to say the words and we can take it from there.” She held his hands for a moment more, let go and quickly refilled her glass as if to fortify herself.

  Alex tossed his wine down his throat. He needed something stronger than this. He had no intention of being in love—in lust sure, but not love. He’d been there, done that. It hurt too bad. Charisse was a wonderful woman and if he would ever consider settling down and being in love, she’d probably fit the bill. Inwardly he shook his head. Not now and probably not ever. He looked across at Charisse who was cutting a slice of cheese for her cracker. It wasn’t fair to let her continue to believe that there could be any more between them than what already existed—a good time, great conversation, mind-blowing sex and that was it. Charisse was a decent woman, a wonderful one and she deserved someone who could make her happy and it certainly wasn’t Alex Hutchinson.

  “Charisse, look—”

  “I already know what you’re going to say, Hutch. You’re not in love with me, you don’t want to settle down and waiting on you to change your mind would be pointless.” She arched a brow in question. “Right?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  She ran her tongue across her lips. “At least you’re honest. That’s what I’ve always admired about you.” She paused for a moment. “Can you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  “Come home with me…one last time.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

  “Charisse.”

  “You know how good we are together.” She moved closer and began caressing the inside of his thigh. “You know how I can make you feel…how you make me feel. Then you can walk away. It will be over. I want this final time with you. A memory. That’s all. You can give me that can’t you?”

  He covered her hands to still her fingers and the growing arousal she’d stirred in him.

  “That’s not a good idea. Think of me what you will, but I’m not into goodbye screws. That’s not who I am.”

  Her aquiline features hardened. She moved back. “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “I’m not a fool, Hutch. In love maybe, but not a fool.” She refilled his cup and then her own. She raised hers. “To old times and bright futures,” she said, her voice tremulous but clear.

  He touched his glass to hers.

  When Alex returned home shortly after, his answering machine light was flashing. He ignored it. He didn’t feel like responding and didn’t feel like hearing what anyone else had to say.

  He tossed his unread book on the bed, followed by the newspaper. He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and hunted around the minimal interior, moving half-filled jars and empty containers around hoping something worthwhile would magically materialize.

  Coming up empty he shut the door. “The life of a bachelor,” he muttered, pulling open one of the kitchen drawers for a menu from one of the local restaurants.

  He took out a handful and dumped them on the table. He could easily be sitting in Charisse’s apartment, enjoying what he knew would be a delicious meal, followed by stimulating conversation and even more stimulating sex. Instead he was in a sparsely furnished apartment, alone, scouring menus—hungry and horny. Lousy combination.

  The phone rang. He pushed away from the table then picked up the wall phone by the sink.

  “Hello?”

  Silence.

  “Hello?”

  “I…I’m sorry. Wrong number.”

  The dial tone hummed in his ear.

  He frowned then slowly hung up the phone. Normally he would ignore the call and write it off as a wrong number. But he couldn’t. He picked up the phone and dialed *69. The mechanical voice gave him the number of his last incoming call. He dialed and the call was answered on the second ring.

  “Good afternoon, this is the Marriott Hotel. How may I direct your call?”

  “Uh, I’m sorry, wrong number.” He hung up wondering why Kelly Maxwell had called.

  Chapter 18

  Kelly sat on the side of her bed with the phone still in her hand. That was infantile. She could have said something. But when she heard his voice, she suddenly lost track of the bravado she’d had when she plucked his card from her pocket and dialed the number. She didn’t expect him to answer, figured she’d get an answering service.

  She returned the phone to its base and silently prayed that he didn’t recognize her voice—or maybe that he did.

  Ruby was in the training room when Alex walked in.

  “Hey, boss. How was the weekend?” She continued folding towels and stacking them on the shelves. When she didn’t get an immediate answer she turned in his direction. “That good, huh?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re apparently elsewhere this morning. What’s up?”

  He came fully into the room and pretended to be totally fascinated by the treadmill. “Nothing. Everything’s cool.”

  “Really?” The one word rang of skepticism.

  “Yeah, really.”

  She planted fisted hands on her wide hips. “Told you about lying to me.”

  “Why do I always have to be lying?”

  “Not always, just right now.” She put the last stack of towels down on a push-up bench and walked over to him. “You ain’t paying that damned machine a bit of attention so stop pretending. What’s wrong?”

  “Broke up with Charisse this weekend.”

  Her right brow arched a notch. “You gotta do better than that. I know good and well that wouldn’t rock your boat one way or the other. Nice girl and all but she’s not for you. Told you that a long time ago. So what’s the real story?”

  He pushed out a breath. “You’re worse than a mosquito.”

  “So I’ve been told. Spill it.”

  He finally faced her and leaned against the bar of the treadmill. “I got a strange call on Sunday.”

  “And…”

  “It was from Kelly Maxwell.”

  “Oh…I see. What did she want?”

  “I have no idea. She didn’t say.”

  “Huh? Then what did she say?”

  “Nothing. Just that she had the wrong number and hung up.”

  “She said, ‘Hello, this is Kelly Maxwell. Sorry, I have the wrong number.’ Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “The last part. She didn’t tell me who she was.”

  “Then how do you even know it was her?”

  “I recognized her voice.”

  “Hutch…is there something going on between you two that I ought to know about so that I can kick your hand
some ass?” She jerked her neck to the side in a homegirl pose.

  “I don’t think that would be necessary. Besides, you know I could take you in less than five minutes.”

  “As long as I get a good one in it doesn’t matter.” She sat down on a stool, rested her arms on her thighs and leaned forward. “I’ve seen that look in your eyes before and I’ve watched how you look at her. You don’t want to go there. You really don’t.”

  His gaze settled on her face. The concern he saw there was real. She knew what he’d gone through after Leigh’s death. She was the one who held his head and put cold rags on his neck when he was sicker than a dog after one of his all-night drinking binges. And he always knew that he couldn’t lie to her. She’d never believe him anyway.

  “I know it’s stupid, but…I’m attracted to her. And it’s not that doctor-patient thing.” He lowered his gaze for a moment, folded his hands in front of him. “This is different, Ruby. I know I’m walking on shaky ground. But—”

  “Will you at least promise me that you will wait until after she’s finished here before you try to pursue anything? You don’t even know if she feels the same way.”

  His eyes connected with hers. “She does.”

  Ruby shook her head more in confusion than annoyance. “She’s not even your type. I’ve seen the kind of women you’re attracted to. Kelly Maxwell seems to be nice enough but she’s not that cute.”

  “I think she’s beautiful.” Even as the words came out of his mouth he was surprised to hear them.

  “Hutch…” Her tone singsonged a warning. “Leave her alone.”

  He blew out a breath. “Yeah, you’re right.” He pushed away from his resting spot and walked toward the door. “Maybe I should take myself off the case.” It was more a question than a statement.

  “Her bodyguard would have a fit…as much as he already doesn’t like you, I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t sit very well with him.”