The Many Lives of June Crandall

by Suzanne Whitfield Vince

  As she walked out of the building, she couldn't help but feel that there was something familiar about everything she'd heard. Like she'd heard it before. She shook off the feeling and hurried for the bus that was approaching.

  The following week, Grace finished the article and emailed it to Matt. He made a few minor suggestions and sent it back to her. Grace sent the article to her contact at the New York Times and he loved it. He promised to publish it the following Sunday.

  With any luck, the public exposure would help to light a fire under the feet of the lawyers and judges responsible for denying Matt's client, and others like him, a new trial. It wouldn't hurt her reputation either.

  Chapter Eighteen

  2001

  The living arrangement with Valerie was perfect. But after her first year of law school, Valerie had all but moved in with Matt, leaving Grace alone more often than she cared to be. As she stared out the window at the trees below, bare now except for a few stubborn leaves that refused to fall, she felt the all too familiar ache of loneliness creep in. Like a muscle that had been worked too hard and had the same effect, making it difficult to get up out of bed or off the sofa.

  She was beginning to wonder whether she was destined to spend her life alone, which seemed a much less attractive prospect than it had in college. She envied Valerie who, despite the fact that they'd shared the same miserable existence as children, was able to open her heart to love. She didn't want to be alone for the rest of her life, but when she thought about being with someone, she just...she still couldn't imagine it.

  "What's it like? Being in love, I mean," she asked Valerie one night while Matt was working late.

  "It's the best thing ever. It makes all the years of loneliness just disappear. The feeling of belonging to someone, and knowing they belong to you, is indescribable. You should try it sometime, Grace."

  "But...aren't you afraid? I mean, what if he changes his mind and decides he doesn't love you anymore? What will you do if that happens?"

  "It's a risk, yeah, and the fear's there in me sometimes. But for the right person, the risk is worth it. You need to find the one who thinks they couldn''t possibly live another day without you in it. And when you do, hold onto him and don't ever let him go."

  Grace was happy for her friend, but at the age of twenty-three, she hadn't even met a guy she liked, much less come close to loving. The closest she'd ever come to actually even liking someone had been Antonio Ramos. And that was over before it had ever even begun. Not that she wished it otherwise.

  But still.

  The following week, Valerie told Grace that she wanted her to meet one of Matt's friends.

  "No way. I'm not going out with someone I've never even met before."

  "Okay, what if we double-date?"

  They argued for half an hour before Grace finally relented. "But it's not a date, it's just dinner. With friends."

  Valerie grinned and Grace rolled her eyes.

  They went to dinner at a trendy Italian restaurant in the Village, and Grace had a nice time. She liked Matt's friend, Tyler, and he offered to walk her home after dinner. Valerie, of course, would be spending the night at Matt's.

  When they got back to her loft, Grace opened the door and stepped inside. She turned to thank Tyler for a nice time, and he leaned in to kiss her.

  Surprised, Grace stepped back.

  Tyler frowned. "What, not even a goodnight kiss?"

  "I'm sorry, but I'd like for you to leave now."

  "What? A guy buys you a nice dinner and he can't even have a kiss?"

  "Not if the girl says no."

  He shook his head and left. Grace didn't share the details with Valerie, but told her instead that he just wasn't her type.

  A month later, Valerie had another guy she wanted her to meet. Grace put up a fight, but Valerie promised she'd like this one.

  "Ryan is one of the attorneys at the Project. He had a long-time girlfriend--fiancée actually--but they broke up a year or so ago. He''s seriously cute and very nice. Please?"

  Against her better judgment, Grace agreed to another double date, but this time she insisted on picking the place. She figured if he did turn out to be a loser, at least she would enjoy the meal. The girls met Matt and Ryan at the restaurant, and they ordered a bottle of champagne.

  "What are we celebrating?" Grace asked.

  "We got one of our clients freed," Matt said. "I really think your piece in the Times helped. Now that the public is aware of what's going on, judges are more likely to listen. So thank you, Grace."

  "Believe me, it was my pleasure." She had an inkling of what it felt like to serve a sentence for a crime you didn't commit. She''d served eighteen years.

  Ryan was quiet until he started drinking, and then he started talking non-stop about his ex- fiancée. Grace looked at Matt and grinned, and he tossed her an apologetic look in return. Grace decided to enjoy the evening anyway, and started asking Ryan questions about the fiancée, Brooke.

  By the end of the evening, she had convinced Ryan that he and Brooke belonged together, and he stepped outside to call her. He came back fifteen minutes later and announced that he was going over to her apartment. When he left, the three of them erupted in laughter. She wagged her finger at the two of them. "Never again."

  All in all, it had been an entertaining evening, but Grace decided that she would fend for herself when it came to finding dates in the future.

  In December of her second year of law school, Valerie invited Grace to join her and some of the staff from the Project for a little holiday celebration of drinks and dinner. She swore it was not a setup, and Grace told her she would make it if she could. She wanted to finish writing an article for the Atlantic that was due the next day.

  Valerie left the loft and Grace went back to writing. An hour later, her stomach growled and she decided to go meet Valerie and the gang. Luigi's was only a few blocks from the loft and she enjoyed the clear, crisp evening air. She loved the change of seasons in New York, especially the leaves in autumn and the snow in winter.

  She walked behind a man talking loudly on his cell phone for the last block of the walk. As it happened, he stopped at the same place she was going and stood, blocking the doorway, continuing his conversation.

  She cleared her throat to get his attention, but he kept talking so she tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me," she said.

  He turned to face her and when he saw her, he snapped his phone shut. "Oh my God. You?"

  Grace looked up and into the eyes of Antonio Ramos. "Yes, you. I mean me, yes."

  "Antonio Ramos. Do you remember me?"

  "From the park. You tackled me during one of your football games."

  "And here I was hoping you'd remember me as the guy who baked you scones."

  She laughed. She hadn't forgotten the scones. "Yes, that's right. They were delicious, by the way."

  "Really? Because I thought maybe they'd given you food poisoning or something because you never came back after that." He pointed to the door of the restaurant. ""Are you meeting someone?"

  "Yes, I'm meeting some friends. And you?"

  "Yes, but I have a better idea. Why don't we blow off our friends and hang out together instead? I know a great little Thai place around the corner."

  Grace hesitated, and then nodded. "Sure, what the heck."

  They walked to the restaurant and found a small table by the window.

  "You have no idea how many times I've thought about you over the last few years," he said. "I've looked for you everywhere. I went to just about every single art gallery in the city, and security at NYU was beginning to suspect I was a stalker. I even sat on your bench in the park in the dead of winter on Saturday mornings, hoping you would show up. Maybe I should've camped out in front of Luigi's instead."

  "You stalked the NYU campus?" She was secretly pleased to hear that he had thought about her that much, and had even looked for her. He had crossed her mind a time or two over the years, and now
here he was.

  "Let's just say that the security guards and I were on a first-name basis," he said and they both laughed. Grinning from ear to ear, he reached across the table and took her hand.

  Instinctively, she pulled it away. Then, embarrassed, she slipped it back into his. His warm, strong hand gave hers a gentle squeeze and he returned her smile.

  "So, how are you? What have you been up to?" he asked.

  They spent the next two hours catching up. Grace couldn't believe it when he told her that he worked for Free the Innocent. No wonder she'd had that familiar feeling about the place. She told him about the piece she'd written.

  "I read it. It was well done. I just wish I'd known it was you. I'd have tracked you down a long time ago."

  After dinner, he asked if he could walk her home. Without speaking, she nodded and turned toward her apartment.

  "At least this way, I'll know where to find you in case you decide to blow me off again." He winked.

  When she didn't respond, he stopped walking and turned to face her. "It's true, isn't it? You did blow me off!" He joked, but in his eyes she saw the truth. He was hurt.

  She shifted her gaze to the ground and swiped her boot at the snow underfoot. "I guess I did. I'm sorry. I could lie to you and tell you I was just busy with school, but..."

  "But you just weren't into me. I get it."

  She looked up sharply and met his gaze. "It wasn't that, Antonio. I enjoyed our time in the park, but. . .I was carrying a double major, and working at the gallery. I didn't have time for a social life."

  He nodded, and continued walking. When she turned to follow, he took her hand.

  Her instinct was to pull her hand away again, but she fought it this time. They walked home in silence, and when they reached her building, she invited him in.

  "No, thank you," he said. "I'm working on a big case and I have a long day tomorrow. I'd like a rain check, though. Would you allow me to buy you dinner again sometime?"

  A slow smile met her lips and she surprised herself again by saying yes. She scrawled her phone number on a piece of paper and, after thanking him for dinner, hurried inside and closed the door behind her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The phone rang, and for the third day in a row she let the answering machine pick up. It was Antonio again. This time, he sang into the machine and threatened to come serenade her late at night if she didn't call him back. She hesitated, then lifted the receiver with a trembling hand.

  "Hello?" She tried to sound breathless, as if she'd just run through the front door.

  She was greeted by the sound of a dial tone. She was too late picking up.

  She'd been replaying the same conversation with herself over and over for the past three days.

  Pick up the phone.

  No, I'm too scared.

  Of dinner? He wants to take you to dinner.

  No, I'm afraid of what comes after dinner.

  Don't be ridiculous, Grace. It's just dinner. Whatever happens after that is up to you. You get to decide.

  But what if he wants to kiss me?

  Would that be so terrible?

  Maybe.

  Do you want to spend the rest of your life alone?

  No, but...

  And so it went, and now she'd missed his call for the third time.

  Tomorrow. I promise I'll pick up the phone tomorrow.

  Yeah, right. If he bothers to call back.

  Grace poured herself a glass of wine and returned to the article she was working on before the phone had rung. She sat in front of the computer for an hour and wrote four words. Then she took a hot shower and climbed into bed.

  She tossed and turned and cursed at the neighbors upstairs who were playing their music too loud. Again. She got out of bed, grabbed the broom and banged it on the ceiling three times. It was her signal for them to turn it down. After three attempts, she realized the music was not coming from upstairs.

  She listened carefully and walked over to the window closest to her bed. She looked down at the street and laughed. The man standing on the sidewalk below her was holding a microphone in one hand and a boom box in the other. He was singing "O Sole Mio."

  It was Antonio Ramos, and he was delivering on his threat.

  When her sides hurt from laughing, she raced to the front door, grabbed her coat from the rack, and ran downstairs to rescue her neighbors from the singing Romeo. She hurried out the front door and called his name. He didn't hear her, and kept belting it out.

  The music player was now sitting on the ground. She pressed the stop button and he spun around. When he saw her, his face lit up.

  "Hi," he said with a sheepish grin.

  "Hi, yourself," she said, tugging on his arm.

  He grabbed the boom box. "How'd I sound?"

  "It was lovely. A little loud and off-key, but lovely."

  She was still laughing as she pushed the front door to her apartment open and stepped in, waving him in behind her. All at once she realized how she must have appeared, and she pulled her coat tighter around her body.

  She looked into his eyes, which were still bright and smiling, and turned serious. "I'm sorry I haven't picked up when you''ve called, Antonio. I was going to answer tomorrow. Honest."

  "Look, Grace, I don't want to pressure you into anything. If you're not interested, it's okay."

  She looked up at him again, aware of the war being waged inside her. She wanted him to go and she wanted him to stay.

  "You're not trying to back out of taking me to dinner, are you?"

  He beamed. "No ma'am. How about tomorrow night?"

  She nodded.

  "I'll pick you up at seven o'clock."

  Grace tried on seven different outfits before deciding on a gray wool dress with black leggings and high-heeled, knee-high boots. She completed the look with a purple angora scarf. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back and she wore just a touch of makeup.

  All day she'd thought about potential topics of conversation, sometimes drawing a blank and fearing that they wouldn't have anything to talk about. That they''d simply sit across the table from each other, smiling politely, willing the evening to hurry up and be over. Or even worse--that he'd want to talk about her.

  Unable to sit still, she paced the length of the loft, waiting for his arrival. When the buzzer sounded, she nearly shrieked. She took her time getting to the door, drew in a deep breath, and opened it. When she saw him, all of her anxiety melted away.

  Antonio grinned from ear to ear.

  "Hi," he said, handing her a bouquet of winter lilies. "These are for you."

  "Thank you." She took the flowers from him, stepped back and ushered him in. "I'll just put these in water and we can be on our way."

  Antonio had selected a quiet French restaurant and over dinner they talked about his work, and hers. They discussed current events and politics, and she was relieved to learn that they shared the same views.

  "Will you be spending Christmas with your family?" Antonio asked over bananas flambé.

  She paused mid-bite, then continued chewing slowly. She knew the subject of family would probably come up, but this wasn't the time or place to tell him the truth. To stall for time, she reached for her water glass. After taking a sip, she cleared her throat. "No, actually, I''m afraid not. We have so many shows coming up at the gallery and I just can't get away. What about you?"

  "My family lives here in New York, so I'll be spending it with them. If I'm not working, that is."

  "How nice. Tell me about them." She was grateful he hadn't probed deeper about her family.

  "My father used to be the district attorney for New York City. Now he has his own law firm. My mom used to be a professor at Columbia, but she took early retirement, and I have one sister, who is also a schoolteacher."

  "It sounds like you're all very close."

  "Yes."

  He fell silent after that but his eyes never left hers. What was he thinking? She shifted in her seat as
he studied her.

  "Have you ever had a verdict overturned on a case that your father tried?" she asked to fill the awkward silence.

  "Yes. Not one that he personally tried, but he was the DA at the time."

  "I'm sure that must've been interesting."

  "Actually, he considered it a rite of passage. Even bought me dinner afterwards."

  "Wow. Good for him."

  He smiled. There was that look again.

  Large fleecy snowflakes flittered from the sky as they left the restaurant. Grace tilted her head skyward and stuck out her tongue.

  "Would you mind walking back to my place?" she asked.

  Antonio couldn't help but laugh. "Not at all." He held out his arm to her.

  When they arrived at the loft, she slipped her key into the lock and paused before opening it.

  "Everything okay?" Antonio asked.

  "I'm not sure." She unlocked the door and pushed it open to find Valerie and Matt, sitting on the sofa, watching television.

  All four stared at one another. Matt broke the silence. "What the--"

  "My sentiments exactly." Valerie fixed her stare on Antonio. "What are you doing here?"

  "I might ask you both the same thing," he said to both Valerie and Matt.

  "My television broke," Matt said, as if that were an explanation.

  All eyes turned to Grace then, and she let out a nervous laugh. She explained to Valerie and Matt that she and Antonio had met years before and hadn't seen each other again until the week before when they met again in front of Luigi's.

  "I wondered why you didn't show up that night," Matt said to Antonio.

  Antonio grinned. "I found something better to do."

  Grace explained to Antonio that she and Valerie had been friends for a long time, and that's how she met Matt and decided to do the story on Project, Free the Innocent.

  Something seemed to register in Antonio's eyes and he nodded. "What are you guys watching?"