Love's Last Chance

by Jean C. Joachim

“I thought I’d give you some space,” she said.

  “I don’t want space, I want to be with you.” He wrapped his fingers around her biceps.

  “In the biblical sense?”

  “Hey, if I’m crowding you, then fine. Forget it.” He let go and turned toward the path.

  “Wait! Don’t go. I’m sorry.” She grabbed his arm.

  “It wasn’t a one-night stand. Not for me.”

  “It’s just… I’m going back and so…”

  “Yeah. You’re doing the movie. So you’ll be gone, what, two months? Three? Then, we can be together. You’ll come back to New York…maybe move in with me?”

  “I’m not coming back to New York.”

  Silence hung heavy between them. His gaze searched her face.

  “Why not?”

  “Because there’s a TV series after the movie. They want to start on the pilot right away. If it gets picked up, I’ll be working steadily…in L.A.”

  “But what about us?”

  “I don’t know. Is there an ‘us’?”

  “I thought there was, or there could be.”

  Dorrie glanced at her watch. “Time to pack. We can at least ride home together on the ferry.” Johnny took her hand, and they walked back in silence. A heavy feeling entered her heart.

  This is your second shot at some kind of dance career. You won’t get a third. You must take it. How can you throw everything you’ve worked for away on a ‘maybe’ from Johnny? Don’t tell him about the New York offer. He’ll talk you into staying.

  “I just got this promotion to Senior V. P.…”

  “I understand.”

  Johnny carried her bag to the ferry. They stood together at the railing, staring out at the bay as the gangplank was lifted. All the members of both houses were on the same boat.

  “A great reunion, wouldn’t you say?” Drake came up behind them and slapped Johnny on the back.

  Mary sidled up to Johnny. “Come over here. I didn’t get a chance to tell you about my new job. Dorrie hogged you all weekend.” Johnny rolled his eyes and allowed Mary to pull him to a more private spot on the railing. Dorrie stifled a laugh with her hand. She didn’t notice Drake moving closer.

  “Speaking of hogging. John sure moved in on you.”

  She glanced at him. “We’re old friends.”

  “Is that all it is?” She smiled enigmatically at him. “Good. I was hoping that was true. I’ve been trying to get to talk to you…alone…all weekend.”

  “Why didn’t you say so? What’s on your mind?” She turned to face him.

  Drake glanced down at his hands before speaking. His eyes didn’t make contact with her right away.

  “You know I’ve always…liked you…”

  “Seems like we’ve been friends forever.”

  “Yeah, well, it hasn’t always been just…friendship for me.”

  Disbelief and surprised overwhelmed her. No, no, it can’t be! Chrissy is a close friend. He’s married. Come on, Drake, don’t do this. “Drake…Are you sure…” He put his hand on her arm to stop her. Dorrie swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “Let me finish. I’ve had…feelings for you, since the beginning.”

  “Oh, God, Drake. Now?”

  “I can’t keep silent anymore. It’s you I want to be with. Not Chrissy.”

  “Shit, Drake!” Dorrie shook her head and avoided his stare.

  “It’s true. Do you feel the same?”

  Dorrie touches his shoulder. “I love you like a brother, Drake. Please don’t do this. You and Chrissy belong together. Crap, you’ve been married for four years! I’m going back to L.A. Can we forget this conversation ever happened?”

  He hung his head and shrugged her hand off. “You can’t be serious. Forget I said this? Impossible.” The noise of the boat cutting through the water was the only sound for a while. Dorrie glanced over at Johnny, who was looking at her with a furrowed brow. He moved away from Mary.

  “Thanks…Thanks for shooting me down, Dorrie. I didn’t think you’d do that.”

  The anger in his tone sparked sadness in her.

  “What did you think? I’m a home-wrecker? You had plenty of time before marrying Chrissy to speak up.”

  “Would your answer have been different?”

  “No. I’m sorry, Drake, but chemistry is chemistry. And we don’t have any, beyond friendship.”

  “Whatever.” He stepped away from the railing and moved to the back of the boat.

  Johnny rejoined Dorrie. “What did Drake say?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “Shit. He didn’t.” He shook his head slowly and closed his eyes for a moment.

  “What?” She looked up at him.

  “He made a play for you? I told him not to. Did you shoot him down?”

  “Of course I did. He’s married. There was never anything between us. You knew about this?”

  “He mentioned it to me.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me? Warn me?”

  “I didn’t think it was my business. How the hell do I know how you feel about Drake?”

  “Oh, Johnny…” She shook her head. Tears threatened. “Don’t you know me by now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “First, I’d never break up a marriage. Second, it’s always been you, not Drake.”

  “Yeah? I was hoping you’d say that.” He leaned over and kissed her, but she pushed him away.

  “Our magic always seemed to evaporate when the ferry docked in Bay Shore.”

  “What do you mean?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “We never went out in the city. Just here. Our magic only existed on Fire Island.”

  “I wasn’t into commitment. I had city girls and Fire Island chicks.”

  “And that’s changed?” She turned a skeptical eye on him.

  “I’m thirty-two now. Not a kid. Of course, that’s changed. Didn’t I just ask you to move in with me?”

  “Did you?”

  “You used to be a good listener. What happened?”

  “History is hard to shake.” He put his arm around her, and she rested against him. Her mind was confused. Drake, Johnny, Johnny, Archer, Archer, Rick. Johnny, no time. No commitment. Why did Drake have to do that? I can’t stay at his place now. How can I face Chrissy?

  Dorrie forced herself to stop thinking and enjoy the moment. John kissed her hair as they stood silently, holding on to each other. I’m not staying in New York to move in with him. I need a commitment, and that’s not enough. Move in today, get dumped tomorrow, and turn your back on your dreams. Don’t think so.

  Though the sun was still strong, the salty spray from the Long Island Sound kept them cool.

  “Thought the reunion would be a waste of time,” he said.

  “And?”

  “It was great.” He smiled down at her.

  Before she had a chance to respond, the boat slowed down. They would be docked in another minute or two. Dorrie turned to Johnny and looked up into his eyes, but a pull on her sleeve diverted her attention. Chrissy was tugging on her arm and beaming. John and Dorrie turned to face her.

  Instead of feeling uncomfortable in her friend’s company, Dorrie was sorry for the young woman. To be married to a man who doesn’t love you. She deserves better. Johnny turned his attention to Chrissy and made small talk with her, holding her steady as the boat lurched.

  Dorrie glanced at Drake who was hugging the railing a few feet away with his head hung low. Maybe he regrets what he said? Chrissy was even perkier than usual, obviously not picking up on the somber attitude of her companions. Her friend’s cheerful demeanor raised questions in Dorrie’s mind. How can she be so blind? It wasn’t long before she got her answer.

  “I wasn’t going to tell anyone yet, because it’s so early.”

  “What?” Dorrie asked.

  “I’m too excited…have to tell you.”

  “Spit it out, girl.”

  “I’m pregnant!”

  * * *
*

  John joined Dorrie in the taxi service van, whisking them from the ferry back into Manhattan. Drake and Chrissy tagged along.

  As traffic clogged the Long Island Expressway, Dorrie got drowsy. She rested her head on Johnny’s shoulder. He tucked her closer, slipping his arm around her, and she fell asleep. After the traffic jam broke up, it was clear sailing. Dorrie woke up.

  “Why don’t you come and stay with me? We’ll have fun,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I have early rehearsal tomorrow, and you’re way downtown.”

  “So?” He gave her a lustful look.

  “And I don’t want to be tired before I get started,” she chuckled.

  “Suit yourself.” The look of disappointment on his face inspired her to kiss him.

  “It’s been fun…as always,” she said.

  “Yeah. Wish you were staying longer.”

  They listened to Chrissy gush about being pregnant, children’s names, and due dates until Drake interrupted her. “Dorrie’s seeing two other men on this trip, John. Thought you should know.”

  Johnny, who had been staring out the window, sat up straighter. His head snapped forward, and his eyes flew open.

  “Two other men?” He turned toward Dorrie.

  “I—”

  “Yeah. Two other guys. Two guys she’s trying to decide about, just like you.”

  “What do you mean, ‘decide about’?” Johnny trained his gaze on her.

  “I came back to see…uh, see how it might be with one more day…”

  “One more day with me…and these other guys?” His tone was sharp.

  She nodded and shot a sharp look at Drake. “Thanks a lot, Drake.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, an evil grin stretching his lips.

  “Do the other guys know?” John asked. Dorrie shook her head. “Please tell them, Drake. Level this playing field,” he said.

  “I only know one. But I’d be glad to inform him.”

  “You bastard,” Dorrie spat at him.

  Drake grinned at her. “Takes one to know one.”

  “What’s this all about?” Chrissy asked. John moved to the other seat and put his arm around her. “Seems like the end of a perfect friendship.”

  “Drake and Dorrie?”

  “Yep,” John gave her shoulders a squeeze before he turned back to face Dorrie.

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Never.”

  “Really?” His eyebrows shot up.

  “Do you tell me about every woman you date or sleep with? No. So why should I tell you something that doesn’t concern you?”

  “I think it does concern me. Where do I stand?” The van pulled up in front of the last stop, and they all piled out. Johnny grabbed Dorrie’s arm. “I asked you a question.”

  “I don’t have an answer.” She avoided his gaze.

  “Just great.” He dropped her arm and moved away, picking up his bag.

  “Let’s go,” Chrissy said, taking Dorrie’s arm. But Dorrie had texted Chaz and arranged to stay there.

  “I’ll come to get my stuff, but I’m moving to Chaz Duncan’s.” She picked up her bag.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “You need your rest and I’m sure you two want to be alone.” She stared at Drake.

  Chrissy made a face. “I wanted to share it with you.”

  “Share it with your husband. He’s going to be a dad. I’m sure he’s just as excited as you are.” Dorrie’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Drake avoided her stare.

  Johnny backed away, toward the subway, swinging his duffle up onto his shoulder. Dorrie looked at him, but he didn’t meet her gaze. Crap! I’ve blown it with him. She headed uptown to pick up her things at the Cunninghams. Drake managed to corner her after Chrissy went to lie down.

  “Chrissy’s pregnancy doesn’t change anything.”

  “It doesn’t? Then you’re not the man I thought you were, Drake. Man up, dammit. You’re going to be a father.”

  “Getting pregnant was her idea.”

  “Yeah? Well, it takes two. You and I’ll never be, and now you’ve destroyed our friendship, too. All for a silly crush. Grow up. I’ve lost all respect for you. Get outta my way.” Dorrie pushed past him and headed for the elevator.

  “At least let me help you,” he called out.

  “And thanks for telling Johnny.” Dorrie flipped him the bird and hauled her suitcase out alone. She couldn’t get away fast enough. What a lowlife. I wouldn’t trade places with Chrissy for anything.

  She received a warm welcome from Chaz and Megan. They shared a late dinner of cold pasta salad, and a good Riesling. Afterward, Megan brought out homemade cookies. She and Chaz sat on the sofa while Dorrie occupied a leather chair.

  Megan narrowed her eyes and stared at Dorrie. “Well?”

  “What? Is something showing?” Dorrie checked her clothes.

  “The men. I’ve been dying to hear about the men!” Megan continued.

  “The three guys? How do you know about them?”

  “Grace Brewster and I are friends.” Meg smiled. “When I told her you were coming, well, it sort of naturally came out. I mean, it’s not every day you hear a story like this one.”

  “I suppose. Gracie’s a good friend. She’s been texting me about the guys, too. What do you know?”

  “She told me a long story about how you’re checking out three guys you dumped once upon a time to see if they were still dump-worthy. Is that a word? Or, if you wanted to rekindle something. So, have you picked one?”

  Dorrie shook her head. Chaz munched a cookie in silence.

  “Nothing’s changed…in five years?”

  “Everything’s changed. And it’s all topsy-turvy. Drake made a play for me! Can you believe it? And he’s married to an old friend of mine.”

  “Gross! What about the others?” Megan persisted.

  “The others? I don’t know. Not yet. Still one more test for them.”

  “Another test? The dates weren’t enough?”

  Dorrie shook her head.

  “Glad I don’t have to compete for you, Meg.” Chaz moved closer to his wife.

  “Me, too,” she said, turning to grin at her husband. “But the suspense is killing me, Dorrie. I need to know whether you’re going to be East Coast or West Coast, with Archer, Rick, or Johnny.”

  Dorrie laughed. “You make it sound like a game show! It’s my life, and I’m just as curious as you are.”

  “You’ll let me know as soon as you decide, won’t you?”

  “You’ll be the first, after the guy.” Dorrie stood up and stretched. “I brought brownies from my favorite bakery.”

  “Love brownies!” Chaz headed for the kitchen. “Where are the little devils?”

  “In the bag on the counter,” Meg called in to him.

  “How did he know?”

  “What?”

  “The name of the bakery?” Dorrie asked.

  “He did?”

  “Yep. Little Devil Bakery.” The women laughed. Chaz entered with several bars of the delectable chocolate confection.

  “What did I do? You’re laughing already, and I just entered the room?”

  Meg pushed to her feet, took the plate and placed it on the coffee table. “Nothing, babe. Here.” She broke off a piece and fed it to Chaz, who took it eagerly.

  “Fantastic!” He took his own and sat back, slipping his arm around Meg’s shoulders. Dorrie took one as well. As her teeth sank into the luscious gooey cake, relief flooded her body. To get out of Drake’s house. Whew. I love it here. Nice married couple, who truly love each other. Quiet all around told of the quality of the chocolaty goodie.

  Now, it’s time for step two in this process. Time to reveal the New York job offer and see if anyone bites. Her smile dissolved into a small frown as she chewed. What if none of the men wanted her in New York on a permanent basis? The thought clouded her heart as it fought off the dread that comes with facing possible rejection.


  Chapter Eight

  Dorrie fielded calls from Archer Canfield and Rick Tarlock, asking her out. But it was the night before shooting was to begin, and she couldn’t see anyone. She’d already told Johnny, so he didn’t call. Her dates were over for this visit.

  After talking to Grace three more times and endlessly with Megan Duncan, she decided the phone was her only way to tell the men about her job opportunity in New York. Archer Canfield was first on her list. Nine o’clock, not too late to call. She dialed.

  “Hey, Arch.”

  “Dorrie? I thought you were tied up.”

  “I can talk on the phone, but no time to go out.”

  “What’s up, sweetheart?”

  She swallowed. “I wanted to tell you about a job opportunity I have in New York.”

  “ So you weren’t kidding when we had dinner. There really is a job for you in New York?” She swore she could hear his eyebrow rise.

  “To be a partner in a dance studio here.”

  “Marvelous! When are you moving back?”

  “I haven’t decided whether to take that job, or to stay in L.A. and work on the pilot for the Hustle and Dance series.”

  “Oh.”

  “I might come back if there was something…more here for me.”

  “More?”

  “A relationship, maybe?” She squeaked out, squeezing her eyes shut. She held her breath.

  “You mean, like with me?” His voice was uncertain.

  No, with Mickey Mouse! “I want you to think about it for two weeks.”

  “And then?”

  “Then, we talk again. You tell me if this fits into your life. If it’s where you want to go.” Her heart raced. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants.

  “What about you?”

  “Then, I’ll decide if I stay or return to New York.”

  “Based on what I say?” She paced from the door to the window and back to the door again.

  “Sort of. Maybe. Yeah, I guess.” Silence followed. “Will you think about it and call me in about two weeks?”

  “Of course, my dear. This number?”

  “Yes.”

  “I adore you, Dorrie. I hope you know that.”

  “Love you, too, Arch. Can we talk then?”

  “Whatever you wish. I’ll phone you in two weeks.”