Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey

by Joachim, Jean C.

  “You’re doing it again! Play it through!” she yelled.

  “Too bad!” he shouted.

  “Maybe you should try Chopsticks!”

  Peter played Chopsticks three times to annoy her.

  “Enough! Enough! I give up,” she yelled.

  Peter smiled at her defeat. He took a deep breath and went back to practicing the Beethoven piece.

  Next door, the window and shade were up. Peter heard crying and stopped playing for a moment. He switched to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, a sad piece, calculated to annoy her. She went to the window.

  “Very funny! Very funny!” the young woman screamed, her voice shaking. She banged down the window so hard the glass rattled. The window bounced up, leaving it open about four inches. Peter could hear everything.

  “What’s going on here?” an unfamiliar female voice asked. Peter heard soft crying in the background. He stopped playing.

  “Look, you can’t fall apart, Lara. Don’t be a baby. Stop crying. Pull yourself together and get your life back on track. Return to New York where you belong. I can’t baby you all the time. Grow up.”

  Peter heard the clomping of heavy footsteps and the slamming of a door. Turning on the seat, he peeked through the opening of the window, and saw the back of the girl in the leotard as she lay curled up on the floor, crying softly. A pang of guilt stung his heart as he neared the window. Watching her struggle to get up, reaching for a wall or chair, her hand flailing blindly only to find nothing but air and crash to the floor again, intensified his feeling. She sat up on the floor, swearing, then crawled on all fours over to a chair and pulled herself up and in.

  “Where’s the music?” she called out the window in an unsteady voice.

  Peter sat down and played the Beethoven sonata all the way through.

  * * * *

  Sam knocked on the door of the well-kept gray and white house next door. A woman about thirty-five years old, with short brown hair and an annoyed look on her face answered.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Sam Caldwell. I’m here to see to Lara Stewart.”

  “Come in, Dr. Caldwell. I’m Fran, Jim’s fiancée.”

  The young lady he assumed to be Lara was slumped in a chair when Fran barged into her room, with Sam following close behind.

  “Lara, you have company. This is Dr. Sam Caldwell,” Fran said.

  “Doctor, like in medical doctor?” The young woman asked, sitting up straight in her chair.

  “I’m an ornithologist…a PhD, Lara, not a medical doctor.”

  Lara stood up to greet him. Sam reached out to take her hand. When their fingers met, she screamed and shrank back.

  “Sorry. I forgot to tell you…Lara can’t be touched.”

  Sam peeked out the window and saw Peter there, listening. He hadn’t told his son where he was going.

  “I’m sorry, Lara. I didn’t know. It won’t happen again,” he said in his deep, soothing voice. He looked at her battered face, neck and legs and his heart melted. She was an attractive young woman, about five foot six, with a ballet dancer’s slim body. Her glossy, fluffy, brown hair had red highlights that glinted in the light from a bedside lamp.

  Sam was impressed with her beauty. She had slightly full lips, a perfect nose, and a delicate jaw line. He guessed her skin must have been flawless before the attack. Her breasts were full, her bottom small and well-toned. Her legs were trim and strong. She was stunning but fearful.

  “I’ll leave you two,” Fran said as she made a quick exit.

  “I’m here to read to you. Or would you prefer to talk?”

  “What would you read?”

  “How about the newspaper? Then we can talk about the news and what’s going on in town.” he suggested, pulling a folded paper out from under his arm.

  “You have a nice voice, Dr. Caldwell, like my father,” she said, smiling.

  “Please call me Sam,” he said. “Where is your father?”

  “Both my mother and father were killed in the World Trade Center on 9/11.”

  Silence filled the room as Sam looked down at his hands.

  “Did you bring a newspaper?” she asked, positioning her face in the direction of his voice.

  “Shall we start with the front page? Do you want to get comfortable?”

  Lara nodded and stood up from the chair.

  “Please tell me where the bed is.”

  Sam directed her. Lara felt her way around the wall and sat cross-legged on the bed, hugging a pillow. He walked over and pulled the coverlet up to her hand. Lara arranged it around her shoulders.

  Sam read the first words from a story then glanced at the window. He saw Peter move to the side and heard the beginning of his Beethoven piece.

  Chapter Three

  In June Dr. Cho gently advised Marcia to look into hospice care for Jay. He gave her a booklet and the phone number of a woman in charge of the arrangements. Marcia rang her and made an appointment to look round.

  A few days later, Marcia picked up a sweater before she went out the front door and pulled it shut. The sun was shining but there were some clouds in the sky. It was the day for Marcia’s trip to the hospice. She tried to listen, but her mind wandered, finding the whole idea of the facility distasteful, even though the quiet place with its thick carpets and soft blue and green walls was calming. Although she didn’t believe in miracles, she wasn’t ready to discuss how to make Jay’s death easier yet.

  When she returned home, the door was unlocked. By now she was used to Jakub Novacek in the house fixing something or painting something else. The house needed repairs and perhaps Johnny figured she’d move out after Jay was gone. But where would she go?

  The reality of the hospice drained her remaining energy. She entered the house feeling dizzy. She clutched the doorjamb, but her grip slipped. Jakub was fixing a light switch in the living room when Marcia lost consciousness.

  Marcia opened her eyes, wondering how she got on the sofa. She looked up as Jakub walked in the room with a bowl of soup on a tray.

  “Eat this,” he said, placing the tray on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” she said, pushing the tray away.

  “Eat this,” he commanded, pointing to the bowl on the tray.

  She looked up at his furrowed brow and picked up the spoon. He sat down next to her. Marcia tried to swallow the soup, but she choked. Then she burst into tears, her chest rose and fell as she sobbed out of control.

  When she opened her eyes, she noticed a look of alarm on Jakub’s face. He seemed confused, moving his hands one way and then another. Finally she felt the comfort of his strong arms, engulfing her and holding her close. Marcia collapsed against him, her face buried in his chest, her sobbing continued. Finally out of strength, she quieted down and leaned against him, listening to his strong heartbeat. He put his hand on her head and stroked her soft hair. She closed her eyes and imagined he was Jay.

  Jakub picked her up and carried her up the steps and deposited her gently on her bed. After he left the room, she removed her clothes and slipped between the sheets. The last thing she heard before she drifted off was the locking of the front door.

  The next morning Marcia woke up to a brusque command.

  “Eat,” Jakub said, placing a tray with scrambled eggs and toast on the nightstand.

  Marcia opened her eyes, alarmed to see him at first, then she saw the food and smiled. She slept in the nude, even without Jay in her bed, so when she sat up, she had to pull the sheet up. At the sight of her bare shoulders, Jakub’s cheeks turned pink.

  “Eat breakfast. Have a good day,” he said, leaving abruptly.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  * * * *

  After Raj turned off the sign, Deena stepped out into the light of a street lamp. Rex was waiting for her in Alan’s car. He opened the door. Women love it when you open doors, light cigarettes and that crap. So easy to manipulate, so predictable.

  He g
ot in the car. “Where to?”

  “The Sugar and Cream is still open.”

  “What is that?” he asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

  “A coffee shop.”

  “Isn’t there anyplace nicer?”

  “Not at this hour. This is Willow Falls, not New York City. We gotta get up at sunrise, tend the farm and the cattle,” she said, smirking.

  “If that’s all there is.”

  “Next time you can take me at five o’clock. Then we can go fancy.”

  “A second date, already?”

  “Maybe…Let’s survive this one first,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

  Rex followed Deena’s directions and pulled into the parking lot at Sugar and Cream. When they were seated and ordered, Rex took her hand again.

  “What did you do in New York?”

  “I was in charge of security at The Hideaway, a high class nightclub.”

  “What business are you in here?”

  “It’s a business I thought I might be able to interest you in.”

  “Look, if you’re a pimp, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not a prostitute and I’m not a whore,” she said, yanking her hand away from him and tucking her handbag over her shoulder, preparing to leave.

  Rex held up his palm to her. “Nothing like that.”

  She sat back in her seat and put her purse down.

  “I’m in the secrets business. Everybody has secrets. With your work, you meet plenty of people with secrets. I’ll bet most of the guys who buy you drinks tell you all kinds of things…things you can use to make money.”

  “Most of the guys who buy me drinks are trying to get into my pants, usually by telling me how their wife doesn’t understand their needs.” She sniffed.

  “Even that can be used to make money. So they proposition you?”

  “Yeah and I’m not about to sleep with them for money.” She shouldered her bag.

  “I’ll bet they would pay to keep it secret that they propositioned you.”

  “Blackmail?” She stopped and sat back.

  “Insurance. Insurance you won’t tell their wives.” Rex’s face cracked a small smile.

  “I’m not going to jam up some poor sucker who’s only trying to get laid.”

  “You wouldn’t. All you do is tell me. I make contact.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You get the secrets and give them to me with a name, and I do the rest. You collect a commission and walk away. Very easy money.” His smile broadened.

  “There is no such thing as easy money. But this…I don’t have to do anything? Just give you the information?” She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward.

  “Not every customer is going to have a secret worth money, but only a few good ones about people who can pay and we’re in business.”

  Deena grinned her approval.

  “I could sure use some extra money,” she admitted. “I could get some new clothes. How much would I get?”

  “How about forty percent to you and sixty percent to me because I’m taking all the risk,” he said.

  “Sounds fair to me.” She nodded her agreement.

  “If you could get me a job there in security…” Rex prodded.

  “You wanna be the bouncer?”

  “I’ve got experience.”

  “Right. Benny’s been the bouncer ever since I started dancing there. But he’s a drunk and often doesn’t show up.”

  “I’m reliable. Even as a bouncer I can pick up some tidbits. Why don’t you recommend me to the owner?”

  “And what would be in it for me to do that?” Again she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “How about a finder’s fee?”

  “What’s that?”

  “How about I pay you…right now…for your help getting me the bouncer’s job.”

  “How much?” Deena asked.

  Rex reached into his pocket and peeled off some bills.

  “Does two hundred dollars make you happy?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Deena’s eyes lit up. She took the money and put it in her purse.

  “I’ll talk to Ray tomorrow. He’s the manager.”

  “Good,” Rex said, picking up her hand. He kissed the back of her hand and moved his chair nearer to her.

  “How about we seal this with a kiss?” he suggested.

  She looked at him before moving closer. Rex reached out for her and took her face in his hands, like he’d seen handsome actors do in the movies. He kissed her, lightly at first, then parted her lips and took possession of her mouth. Deena didn’t resist him, but she didn’t help him either.

  “Now you can take me back to The Tee Shirt, I gotta get my car,” she said, drawing back from him.

  Rex liked kissing her. He smiled.

  “Time for you to go home and collapse in bed…alone,” he said, picking up the check. He dropped some bills on the table and put his hand on the small of Deena’s back as he followed her out.

  “I don’t always collapse alone. It depends…”

  “On what?”

  “Maybe on what kind of kisser a guy is.”

  “Do I qualify?”

  “You might,” she said, getting into his car. Rex closed her door and went around to his side. It looked like he would be scoring on all fronts soon. He smiled. Life in Willow Falls was going to be pleasurable and profitable.

  Chapter Four

  After breakfast, Peter set the GPS system with Bianca’s address, put the car in gear and began the end of a journey started eight years ago. Bianca lived about sixty miles away. After a short phone conversation, she’d invited him for lunch. Peter’s stomach was in a knot but he had to have closure…had to know why she left him. He thought she returned his love, was it a lie? He made good time on the highway and pulled up to a gated community. After being cleared, he drove to her home, a modern house, beautiful, but cold and uninviting. He walked up and rang the bell.

  Bianca answered the door in a white bikini with a short white terry robe open in front, setting off her black hair perfectly. She looked older but still incredibly beautiful. Her body had filled out a bit since her modeling days, which was an improvement in Peter’s eyes. Her hair was short and stylish, her nails polished, figure perfect and her lips barely tinted. She flashed him a warm smile.

  “Peter! Come in…you look fantastic!” She stepped aside to let him in.

  Bianca looked him up and down unconsciously running her tongue over her lower lip.

  “No more the skinny intellectual kid.”

  They walked through the massive living room decorated in black and white with lots of chrome, out to the patio where a small table was set elegantly with two places. Peter could see the shimmering turquoise of a swimming pool beyond the patio.

  “I hope you brought your bathing suit.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You don’t need a suit. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  “I’m not in the habit of skinny dipping with married women.”

  “Just kidding. Iced tea?” A becoming blush tinted her cheeks belying her words. She turned away from him after handing him a glass.

  He welcomed the tall frosty glass and drank deeply to wet his dry throat. Bianca coming on to him confused and embarrassed him. Did she expect them to take up where they left off?

  “So what have you been doing with yourself, Peter?”

  “I’m on tenure track at Vaal University in South Africa. I’m in the U.S. to teach at Kensington State for a year.”

  “I’m glad you’ve made a success of teaching. No wedding ring, are you married?”

  He shook his head.

  “What a shame. Some deserving young woman is missing out.”

  “Bianca, can we talk about what happened?” Peter leaned forward and the glass down on a small side table.

  “It was so long ago, Peter…sure, why not,” she said, crossing her long legs and smiling at him.

  “Why did you leave?”


  “I moved on. We had a very satisfying affair. What did you think?”

  “I thought we were in love.”

  “Love? No. Lust, yes.”

  “It was love for me,” he said, lowering his gaze to the elegant ceramic tile on the patio floor.

  “Did I break your heart? Oh my God. Is that why you’re here?”

  An uncomfortable silence fell over them.

  “I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I never would’ve considered marrying a college professor. My husband, Henry, owns and runs a financial services firm. He makes millions. I’ve always wanted this lifestyle.” She sat back in her chair.

  “You never said so.”

  “I wasn’t totally honest with you. You were so sweet to me and such a passionate lover. It was fun.”

  “Fun? That’s all it was to you?”

  “I wouldn’t have married you even if I didn’t have the European fashion show.”

  “So the show was an excuse?”

  “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I’ve always wanted more…security.” She shrugged.

  “What you have here?” He glanced at the big house and the pool.

  She nodded.

  “Do you have love too?”

  Bianca shifted in her seat. “There are all kinds of love, Peter, not only the idealistic type of puppy love you have in your early twenties. I love Henry and the way he takes care of me. We have a child, a two-year-old boy. Henry provides very handsomely for him. I grew up poor. I vowed I’d never force a child of mine to endure the same hardships.”

  Bianca always gave off the air of being wealthy. She was stylish, beautiful, poised and confident. So it was all an act to attract a wealthy husband.

  “Are you happy?”

  “I have everything I want,” Bianca said, moving her gaze away from him. “What about you, Peter? What are you looking for?”

  “Love. Real love,” he said, staring straight into her eyes.