Bella Luna

by Sharon Struth

  Take Leo. Physically very attractive. Intelligent, almost to the point of overconfident, although he seemed to know when to reel it in. And those gorgeous cocoa eyes, a deadly combination of serious and alluring.

  Rose got lost for a minute in Dusty’s lyrics about her pounding heart over a man. Yes, she felt it. Lately moments around Leo caused that same reaction. She missed a man’s touch. The last time she’d made love was too long ago.

  She shook off the weight of self-pity, finished the reader’s letter, and started a response. Digging through the pile, she located two letters to go with the theme. As she considered her answers, the burden of her larger assignment for the magazine weighed on her mind. Yesterday, she’d left her editor a message that they needed to talk about it. Rose had come up with an idea and wanted reassurance it was a good one.

  Up until now, she didn’t have the guts to tell her editor the task about love felt out of her grasp. Nobody knew she was a fraud. When she and John formally announced to the public they were divorced, she’d be labeled the biggest hypocrite on the planet. Her boss couldn’t know the truth yet—after all, she’d signed an agreement not to tell anyone—but she could give her fair warning that her advice columnist might someday drop a bomb to the public.

  Rose grabbed her cell phone.

  On the fourth ring, the Editor-in-Chief of Sophisticate magazine answered. “Mia Durbin-Brown here.”

  “Guess who? I’ll give you a hint. I’m your favorite columnist.”

  Mia laughed easy and gentle, in true uptown girl fashion. “Hi, Rose. Sorry I didn’t call back. Yesterday was a nightmare. How’s the weather down there?”

  It took her a quick second to remember Mia believed she was in her happy home with the junior senator from North Carolina “Oh, typical May weather. Warmer than where you are, I’ll bet.”

  “It’s lovely right now. I thought that dreary winter would never end”

  Rose loved working with Mia, who’d taken over the Manhattan-based magazine ten years ago as it teetered on the edge of failure. Now the publication thrived with the timeless elegance of English Ivy. She pictured the fashion-forward editor in her twenty-fifth story office overlooking Manhattan, long legs crossed as she tipped back in her chair.

  “I wanted to talk about the special feature piece you gave me.”

  “Okay. Have you come up with an angle? Maybe how you fell in love with your husband? Readers would love that.”

  “That’s what I wanted to discuss. I haven’t mentioned this, but things on the home front aren’t going so well these days.”

  “I’m sorry. You always seem so problem free.”

  “No marriage is problem free.” She noted the defensiveness in her tone so switched to a softer one. “Unfortunately we’re beyond repair. It’s possible our marital status will change after the elections, when we have time to really talk about our problems. To be honest, I’m worried. The magazine’s readers are wonderful, but people can be so unforgiving when someone like me has real-life problems.”

  “Listen, we’ll find a way to deal with it when the time comes. I’m pretty sure if it’s handled correctly, readers will identify with you by the time we finish.”

  “Thanks for the support. You’ve always been a great boss and friend. So I’d like to talk about this love study.”

  “Do you want to put it off?”

  “No. Oddly enough it has me thinking about my own life. Like when I first met John and what drew me to him. In fact, working on this special piece has been pretty eye-opening.”

  “As long as you are okay doing the story…”

  “I am. But I wanted to brainstorm with someone. You’re it.”

  “Then tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I’d like to expand on the study premise a bit. Besides why we fall in love, what makes couples stay in love. I just met an adorable couple on the brink of real dating.” Meg and Charlie seemed to be trying but couldn’t quite get there. “And there’s a few other couples in varying stages of their relationships with some real everyday issues married pairs face. I find myself curious what they might learn by doing this.”

  “That’s a great angle. My last marriage might not have fallen apart if I’d tried this. So run with it. Call if you want to talk more, but I know you’ll get there. You always do.”

  Rose hung up, glad about her boss’s reaction, but an unexplained sadness took hold. Love. Mysterious and elusive. Had she ever known true love? The kind people lived for. The kind that inspired poetry. The kind that lasted forever.

  John’s appeal had been something else, more about having a rooted family. Not a sensation stirring inside her heart. Romance had always fallen into the category of made-up Hollywood things. Watching her parents’ phony attempts to appear happily married painted a sad picture of where love and trust could lead two people.

  Her throat grew thick. So many wrongs, forcing her to put faith in nobody but herself. The admission squeezed at her chest until a wall she’d built around it to keep pain away cracked in places.

  All her life, she’d felt alone. Until this moment, it had never seemed to matter that much because she accepted it as part of how she survived. Overdue emotion stole a bit of the resistance coating her heart, and Rose surrendered to a real good cry.

  * * * *

  Leo tossed the tartan plaid dog bed into the car’s backseat, next to a bag from Breckenridge Dairy Farm. In all his trips to Southbridge, he’d never once noticed the pet store in the brick strip mall. Yet today, on his way home from town to buy some pastries for tomorrow’s breakfast, a sign near the store reading “Sale - Dog Beds” made him slow and turn in.

  He buckled up and pulled out of the parking lot. The new bed for Bella was an impulse purchase, justified by his plans to get a dog after Emma left. Until that time, he’d leave the bed near the dining room sliders, where Bella often slept in a stream of sunlight.

  Leo followed the country road, blasting Tom Petty on the radio, who crooned about the great wide open. Leo loved the song following a man’s rise to music success and the fickle nature of entertainment stardom. A sentiment Leo fully understood. Lately the stings of their critiques seemed to have lost some of the power it once had over him. Especially today. The combined warm spring air rushing his skin and bright sun spilling through trees lifted his spirits.

  Ten minutes later, he pulled down his tree-lined driveway and parked next to Emma’s car. He bundled his purchases in his arms. Once in the kitchen, he put down the bags, tore the tag off the dog bed, and headed down the hallway. He didn’t want Emma to know he’d spent money on the dog to avoid giving her the wrong impression.

  At Emma’s shut door, he paused and listened. Music. The familiar scratchy sound of vinyl. Rainy summer afternoons growing up, he and the other kids who vacationed here would hang out in the apartment and play board games while listening to records.

  He knocked a few times.

  The music lowered and she came to the door. She smiled at him, but it seemed forced and didn’t mask the sadness in her eyes. “Hi. What’s up?”

  “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “You’re not. I’m just working.”

  Bella pushed past her legs and went to Leo’s side. He pet her and glanced up at Emma. “You found the record player.”

  “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” He waited for one of her sarcastic remarks, the type that made him laugh. “What? No suggestions that I update to an eight-track player? Or get myself a Walkman?”

  She shrugged. “Guess you caught me on a slow day.”

  “I was just teasing.”

  “Yes, I know.” She smiled feebly, but his good humor nose-dived.

  An awkward moment of silence passed. Their gazes locked. Vulnerability in her eyes made him want to pull her into a hug. The dog bed slipped from his fingers. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. But thanks.”

  Fine, but
not happy.

  “What’s that?” She motioned to the bed, where Bella sniffed at the edges.

  “Oh, a friend of mine bought this, but their dog didn’t like it. He was about to toss it out, but I said I’d take it. Bella seems to like a spot in the dining room. I figured she might like a bed over there, especially now that she can wander the house.” His cheeks warmed at hearing himself babble. He drew in a breath and vowed to shut up.

  “Are you sure her wandering around the house is okay? She won’t bother you?”

  “Not at all. It’s not the big deal I made when you arrived.”

  Bella climbed onto the bed and turned in a circle, then plunked down. “You like that Bella-bug?” Emma asked quietly.

  Bella lifted her head, and he’d have sworn she grinned.

  Emma met Leo’s gaze, happiness shining in her eyes. “I think that’s a yes.”

  “Good. I’ll put it in the dining room.” He called the dog off, lifted the bed, and turned to leave.

  “Leo?”

  He stopped and looked back.

  “Thank you for thinking of Bella.” She smiled so generous and genuine it warmed his heart.

  He smiled back. “It was my pleasure. She’s a special dog.”

  Her expression got serious, and she stared into his eyes with a curious gaze. Softly, she said, “I’ll be going out tonight for a little while. If it turns out she’s too much of a pain or taking over the whole house, please go ahead and shut her inside the apartment.”

  “It’ll be okay. She keeps me company, too.” He hung onto the image of her expression, relaxed and filled with interest. An expression he wished he saw more often.

  Chapter 14

  Rose had been quietly noting details in Sophie and Duncan’s spacious kitchen, their craftsman-styled house a spectacular display of architecture. At least she was, until Meg had marched into the room a minute ago and demanded their attention, her endearing cheery disposition nowhere in sight.

  Meg’s forehead creased and she scanned the ladies standing around the kitchen island. “When Sophie suggested we do a Scottish Outlander theme, I took it quite seriously. Like I always do. Remember on RomCom night…” Meg paused and donned a stern expression as she focused on Bernadette Felton, who’d started to chuckle. “Do you think this is funny?”

  Rose had met Bernadette for the first time tonight and learned she was married to the local pastor at the Methodist Church, was a lawyer, and also a local activist.

  Bernadette nodded, her brown layers brushing her shoulder. “Aye, lassie,” she quipped using a halfway decent brogue. “It’s hilarious.” Her voice returned to normal as she removed a plastic wrap from a casserole dish and glanced up at Meg. “Don’t get your panties all twisted. I was joking when I said to bring haggis. You know, sarcasm?”

  “Well I didn’t know. Good God, those pictures online were gross.” Meg’s nose crinkled. “And nobody around here sells sheep’s pluck either. The butcher at Bellantoni’s laughed for five minutes after I asked for some. He told me I should hop a plane to Edinburgh.”

  More laughter ensued and Meg’s frown deepened.

  “Good for you for trying, though.” Rose felt badly for poor Meg and didn’t join the others. “What exactly is sheep’s pluck?”

  Meg twisted her nose into a disgusted face. “Sheep’s heart, liver, and lung.”

  Bernadette put her dish with the others, came to Meg’s side, and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry you went through all that.”

  Veronica, so pretty and proper in her own way, sat with her back straight, making her long neck seem even longer. “So if you didn’t make haggis, what did you bring?”

  Meg frowned. “Hamburgers and hot dogs.”

  “A perfect substitute,” Bernadette said right away, and the others agreed.

  Rose found herself a little envious. They’d all been friends since elementary school. When Rose high-tailed it out of California, she’d forfeited her childhood friendships.

  “They’ll go perfect with my tatties.” Bernadette took a seat across from Rose.

  Sophie snorted a laugh. “Your what?”

  “Tatties is a Scottish national side dish, usually served with haggis. Burgers and hot dogs are close enough. God only knows what they make those hot dogs from.” She smiled nicely at Meg then quickly glanced Sophie’s way. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell Duncan my idea.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “To come visit us tonight in a kilt? No, I didn’t tell him! He’d have been embarrassed.”

  “But imagine if he did.” Meg’s eyes grew wide and her cheeks turned pink.

  Bernadette raised her eyebrows. “See? I’m not the only one. Ronnie?”

  Veronica shook her head. “No thank you. I don’t want to see my brother-in-law wearing a kilt. Theme or no theme.”

  “All right, ladies.” Sophie slapped her palms on the table. “We haven’t even started drinking the scotch and are already headed down a bad path.” She turned to Rose. “There’s no backing out of this gathering now.”

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  Rose had accepted the invitation somewhat reluctantly but was so glad she came. Not only were these women fun, but they’d be perfect candidates to answer the question for her Sophisticate piece. All she needed to do was ease into the topic without scaring them off.

  * * * *

  “Now where’d your owner go, Bella?” Leo lowered his plate from the kitchen table to the floor so Bella could lick off the remains of his dinner.

  Emma left a half hour earlier, dressed in fitted black jeans and a silky shirt, which was cinched at the waist and flowing along her torso. She’d even done something different with that flyaway haircut instead of pinning it back in barrettes, overall looking cute and more grown up than usual.

  He lifted a page from the chapter he’d typed this afternoon, slowly rereading the passage giving him so much trouble. Intimacy. In real life, he’d been with plenty of women, so why was writing it now from his male character’s perspective so hard?

  He sat quietly as happier moments with his wife played out. Shared secrets. Passion in unexpected places. The joy of her laugh, a contagious little giggle that always made all their problems disappear. The edges of each memory blurred and he couldn’t get focus. Emotions denied since her death were stuck behind a door with a rusted bolt.

  He lowered the papers and closed his eyes, tying to visualize the power of the scene. His character was a man with two women circling his orbit. One, an exact replica of his ex-wife, brought him the comfort found in old, damaged state of being. The other offered a new adventure. Around her, he found himself jerked from his comfort zone in a way that was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. His character found himself drawn to it like an addiction.

  Leo opened his eyes, struck by a new awareness of his character. He was a man who possessed all the desire, but none of the ability to dive into a new life.

  Like Leo.

  He owned the idea, letting it sink inside of him. Emma both exhilarated and terrified Leo, too. Walking around with her secrets. Wearing that little towel. Enticing him with her silk undergarments.

  What exactly did she want from him? She seemed so straightforward, not someone who’d drop hints, like leaving her panties at his door. Had he imagined a sign of closeness earlier when he’d delivered the dog bed? She’d studied him, as if for the first time she saw past the horrible man he’d become. Or was something inside him softening and allowing her in?

  At that moment, another reason for her leaving the underwear unexpectedly hit him from behind. He’d been too stupid, so blinded by his lust he’d almost missed it. Perhaps those little drop offs were an intentional effort to make him uncomfortable having her around. So uncomfortable he’d return her money. The money he hadn’t taken. She’d been surprisingly quiet about it for days.

  Yes. That made more sense. Idiot. Good
thing he hadn’t pranced to her apartment door with a proposition.

  He patted Bella. “Your owner confuses me.”

  Bella lifted her bloodshot eyes, a sure sign of agreement.

  A raw pain swelled in his heart, kick-started by some blend of old feelings for his wife and uncertain feelings for Emma. He’d vowed after losing Camille to never again allow himself to care that much about someone. Yet here he stood three years later, behind a wall losing its bricks. Proving a point he didn’t want to prove; Emma’s presence showed he did need love.

  The enormity pressed to his chest and he allowed it to own him. He wished Emma were here right now. Instead, he put down his manuscript and went down the hallway to the laundry room to see if his clothes were dry.

  As he passed her doorway, he spotted a business card lying on the floor just outside the opened apartment door. He picked it up and read “Dan Montgomery, Private Investigator, Specializing in Computer Crimes.” The phone number exchange was one he didn’t recognize. A private investigator? Emma had some big problems, but if she needed a PI, they must be mighty large ones. The jumbled thoughts in his head about what she hid became an even bigger mess.

  Bella trotted over to Leo. He scratched the dog’s chest, considering the latest bizarre find. His somber mood improved as his mind whirled with excitement over the idea of using this angle in his story. He wished he could talk to Emma openly and find out why she needed a PI’s help. He slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and noted the card’s information so he could do some research later. Then he left the card where he’d found it.

  “Come on, Bella. The Dairy Inn just reopened for the season and we could both use a treat.”

  He grabbed his keys off the counter and whistled a tune as they walked out to his car. Surely Emma wouldn’t mind if he treated Bella to a small cup of vanilla. While they enjoyed their ice cream, he’d use his phone Internet to learn more about Dan Montgomery.

  * * * *