“I hope you find it. You’re so sweet…” She brushed his hair out of his eyes.
“I’m no longer the ‘sweet’ boy who fell in love with you.” He grabbed her hand.
“What are you?” She dropped her hand.
“A man tired of pursuing…I think I should go.” He stood up and tugged on his shirt collar.
“Stay! We haven’t even begun to catch up.”
“I’m not interested in swapping stories about vacations, great restaurants, friends we’ve made and dropped along the way. I came to find something out and I got it. It’s time to go,” he said, moving toward the door.
“What did you come here to find out?” Bianca stood up.
“I came to find out the real reason you wouldn’t marry me.”
“Now you know. And?”
“I can see you weren’t the woman I thought you were. Perhaps it was better you dumped me before we made each other miserable. You did me a favor.”
She stepped back as if she had been slapped across the face.
“That was uncalled for,” she breathed.
“Sorry if it was harsh, but you asked.” Peter moved to the front door.
“But we had fun. Perhaps we could have fun again…” She followed him.
“You’re joking, right? What about Henry? I don’t want to have sex with a married woman and pretend it’s love. You have what you want. I have to get what I want. Thank you for lunch,” Peter said, pulling the door open. “Time for me to move on.”
“I’m sorry to end things like this,” she said, as a hungry look swept across her face.
“It’s okay. I’m free now.”
“You sure do look great. I’m sure you’ll attract your Miss Right before long,” Bianca said, desire and regret in her eyes.
She took Peter by the lapel of his jacket and kissed him slowly. He kissed her back. Then they broke.
“We still have the magic, Peter,” Bianca said, her eyes closed.
“Go have your magic with Henry.”
* * * *
Peter drove home from Bianca’s house in a daze. All this time she was his gold standard, his ideal, the one he compared all women against…others who always came up wanting. But today, Bianca’s image crumbled like stale bread.
He had never known her. He loved an image, an illusion. Peter was devastated. He got home about five thirty to find his father in the living room.
“Where were you?” Sam asked.
“To see Bianca.”
“And?”
“Nothing. Never was, never will be.”
He pulled out the sheet music for Liebesträume No. 3 by Franz Liszt, sat down at the piano, and played it for the first time in eight years.
Peter, totally immersed in the music, noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a young woman, standing nearby. A quick glance told him there were tears streaming down her face.
“Keith,” she sighed.
When Peter finished he took a deep breath, closed the lid on the piano and put his head in his hands, blinking back tears. The young woman reached out, feeling for a chair. She knocked into a lamp, almost sending it tumbling over, lost her balance and fell to the floor. The sound drew Peter’s attention. He rushed to her side.
“Are you hurt?” He helped the sobbing girl up. Sam reached out to stop Peter from touching her, but Lara didn’t shrink from Peter. She shook her head. Peter took her in his arms and held her. She buried her face in his chest, trying to catch her breath.
“What happened?” Sam asked.
“Keith. Our song,” she choked out.
Peter helped her into a chair.
Lara was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Peter stared baldly at her face, neck and thighs. The bruises were obviously old, turning different colors before they disappeared, but they were still evident. He stared, unable to look away.
“Thank you. Who is the other man here?” she asked, her light brown eyes vacant.
With the realization she was blind and the sound of her voice, came the understanding she was the bitch from next door. Peter froze.
“This is my son, Peter. Peter, Lara Stewart. She lives next door.”
“He’s staring at me, isn’t he?” she asked, turning to where she last heard Sam’s voice.
“Guilty as charged. Sorry. What was that all about?”
“The Liebesträume No. 3? Keith, my partner in the Metropolitan Ballet…that was our song. We danced a duet to it for five years. He was my best friend. Last year, he died of AIDS,” she said, “I haven’t heard that lovely piece since.”
“I haven’t played it in…a long time.”
“You played it beautifully,” she said, standing up. “I’m so sorry I burst into your house…very rude of me. I must go, Fran will be in a snit if I’m late for dinner. Sam, could you please direct me to our front porch?”
“Of course,” Sam said, pushing to his feet.
“Wait. I’m sorry, Peter, for being so nasty about your playing. Please keep playing. I promise I won’t scream at you anymore. I miss having classical music in my life. Especially the Liebesträume,” she said, smiling.
When she smiled, her whole face lit up. She was beautiful in spite of the bruises. Peter looked at her slender body and felt his blood stirring.
* * * *
Sam noticed a familiar expression on his son’s face and shook his head. He rushed Lara out the door.
When Sam returned he confronted Peter.
“Lara is off-limits, Peter,” he said, walking into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator.
Peter followed behind, then pulled open the silverware drawer.
“I saw you sizing her up. She’s had a rough time. She lost her parents on 9/11. She’s been attacked and is now blind with no memory of the attack. I don’t want you seducing her and then dumping her in your quest for I-don’t-know-what. Leave her alone,” Sam said, pulling out a package of chicken.
“Who said anything about seduction? Can’t I even look at a pretty girl?”
“I doubt it. I’m aware of your reputation, Peter, and I’m not proud of you for it. Leave her alone, will you?” Sam slammed the chicken down on the counter and turned to face his son.
“So I like women. Can I help it if they like me back?” he asked, shrugging.
“You know very well what I’m talking about. Lara is off-limits, okay?” Sam snapped.
“Can’t we be friends?”
“You’re not capable of friendship with an attractive woman.” Sam ripped the packaging and plunged the raw chicken into the sink and turned on the cold water.
“A low blow, Dad. What is it with Lara, anyway?”
“She needs friends, like me, not seducers like you.”
“So what if I become her friend too?” Peter took out enough silverware for two.
“Think you can?” Sam asked, turning to face his son, leaving the water running to rinse the chicken in the sink.
“I’m not as shallow as you think,” Peter said, putting the silverware on the kitchen table.
“Go ahead…become her friend. But if you break her heart, I swear I’ll break your neck.” Sam took down some herbs in jars and sprinkled them on the chicken, then rubbed them in.
“Okay, okay. I’ll stay away from her, if that’s the way you feel.”
“Please, go ahead. I want to see this new friendship thing,” Sam insisted.
“Fine,” Peter said, closing the drawer a little too hard.
“I’m glad you’re rid of Bianca. Maybe now you’ll find someone worthwhile.”
“Maybe I will, if you’ll stop looking over my shoulder.”
* * * *
An attractive, slightly older woman was waiting for Sam when he came out of Jim Caterson’s house after visiting with Lara.
“Dr. Caldwell, can I speak to you for a moment about Lara Stewart?”
Sam Caldwell, a widower for the past seven years, was six feet one inch tall, slim, athletic build, with thick, stone-gray hair and keen, bright
blue eyes, like both his sons. At age sixty-four, Sam found his face, browned from the sun and wrinkled from years of smiles, didn’t seem to turn off the ladies around his age. On the contrary, he had no trouble getting dates.
“Sure…and you are?” Sam stooped a little to be more level with the woman speaking to him.
“Dr. Patricia Weiss. I’m working with Lara Stewart.”
Dr. Weiss was a short, slender woman about sixty years old with auburn hair, green eyes and perfect ivory skin.
With a quick glance, Sam spied the absence of a wedding band. He always checked the ring finger first with attractive women.
“Would you like to have our discussion over a cup of coffee?”
Dr. Weiss’s gaze traveled up to his face. “Good idea. There’s a diner not far from here, Cozy Corner. We can walk if you want.”
“Great, I need the exercise,” he said.
They settled into a corner booth where they could speak privately. Sam ordered coffee and fruit salad. Dr. Weiss did the same.
“You’re treating Lara?” he began, stirring a little sugar into his coffee.
“She needs help to recover from the attack. The university, actually your son, Mac, called me in to work with her.”
“Leave it to Mac. Yes, she needs help, a lot of help.”
“Your friendship means a great deal to her. I hope it isn’t too much of a responsibility for you.” Dr. Weiss poured milk into her coffee.
“I enjoy my time with Lara,” Sam said, spearing a piece of melon with his fork.
“You remind her of her father. She had a close relationship with him.”
“Is there anything specific you want me to do while I’m with her?”
“You’re doing fine. She’s been seriously traumatized. It will take her some time to recover from the fear. Of course the blindness doesn’t help. If she could see, then she’d recover faster,” Dr. Weiss said, spooning a grape into her mouth.
“When will the blindness go away?”
“I don’t know. Positive relationships help,” she explained.
“Not happening at home.” Sam added extra milk to his coffee
“What do you mean?”
“Her future aunt, Fran, is hostile to the girl. Peter and I have overheard unpleasant conversations between Lara and Fran. Fran would like Lara out as soon as possible.”
“Fran tries to hide it, but I see. You’re right, it’s not good for Lara.”
“Why doesn’t her uncle get rid of Fran?”
“I don’t know. It’s not my place to interfere, even though it does have a negative impact on Lara.” She popped a grape into her mouth.
“Too bad.” Sam signaled the waitress for refills of their coffee.
“Who is Peter?” Dr. Weiss nodded at the waitress when she brought the coffee pot to her cup.
“He’s my other son. He and Lara have become friends.”
“Wonderful! How old is Peter?”
“He’s thirty-four. To be frank, doctor, I believe Peter would like to take their friendship to the next level, if you get my drift.”
“Please call me Pat. How does Lara feel about that?” Pat bit into a grapefruit section.
“Can’t say. Seems a bit soon. I advised my son to wait. What do you think?”
“Good advice. She mentioned a man friend. I didn’t know who she was talking about. Now I know. You and Peter can make a big difference in her recovery, Dr. Caldwell.”
“Sam, please. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Could I call you from time to time to discuss Lara’s progress?”
“Of course. She has a lot of spunk.”
“She’s survived major traumas before. I think she can come out of this and have a normal life.”
They finished their food and Sam raised his hand to the waitress for the check. When she brought it over, Sam took the bill.
“Please, let me take it,” Pat said. “I approached you.”
“Nonsense! I asked you to join me for coffee.”
“Thank you,” she said, turning a little pink.
They walked out of the diner and back to Jim Caterson’s house.
Sam turned to face her. “Would you like to have dinner with me this Friday night?”
Pat got visibly flustered. She gazed at Sam then at her hands and blushed bright red.
“I’d like that.”
“Good. Where do you live?”
They exchanged addresses and phone numbers and agreed on a time. Then Pat got in her car and drove away. Sam grinned. He hadn’t been in Willow Falls more than two weeks and he already met a woman he liked. Pete’s not the only ladies man in our family.
Sam dated in South Africa, but it was hard to find attractive, interesting women around his age. He’d had a few affairs after Ellen died. Still quite interested in sex, he thought a lively and fulfilling sex life, like he’d had with Ellen, was a thing of the past. Maybe he was wrong. He had found himself staring at Pat’s lovely pink lips during their conversation, wondering what it would feel like to kiss her. Perhaps he’d find out Friday. Now he needed a restaurant to take her to and figure out how to dress appropriately in this town. He’d have to call Mac.
* * * *
“You have a date? With a woman?” Mac asked, putting down the papers in his hand and training his full attention on the phone conversation.
“This isn’t my first date since your mother died. It’s a dinner date and I need a restaurant recommendation,” Sam said.
“With who?”
“That’s my business.”
“Not if you want a restaurant recommendation from me. You’re going to have to come clean,” Mac said. He’d picked up techniques for worming information out of people from Callie.
“That’s blackmail!” Sam stopped short.
“So?” Mac said, trying to sound cooler than he felt.
“It’s Pat Weiss, Dr. Weiss?”
“I know her, I know her. You’re going out with Pat Weiss?”
“That’s what I said. Now, give me the name of the restaurant.”
“It’s La Côte d’Or, run by Pierre and Edie Balmain, a nice couple. Danny took Eliza there…and now they’re married with a kid…”
“Very funny. I’m not getting married, only having dinner.”
Mac could hear paper rustling, and figured Sam was scribbling the name on a piece of paper. His father was an organized man.
“Cut me some slack, Dad. This is the first time…you dating…it’s weird.” Mac sat back in his big, leather chair.
“Look, I’m still a man, as well as a father and a grandfather, so get over it.”
“Still a man? What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means, Mac? You’re not stupid, figure it out,” Sam said, and hung up the phone.
* * * *
Sam got lost picking up Pat, but ended up being only a few minutes late. Pat lived in the posh Linden Lake section of Willow Falls.
“This is a beautiful neighborhood. Live here long?”
“My husband insisted we live here and I’ve grown used to it, though it is far from the University.”
Under Pat’s directions, Sam made it to the restaurant without getting lost a second time and pulled into the ample parking lot.
La Côte d’Or was in an old Victorian house. What had once been the living room, parlor and library were now intimate, cozy dining rooms. Creamy beige walls, brightened by white trim, indirect lighting and lots of candles created an elegant and romantic atmosphere. The tables had beige tablecloths and napkins, real silver, good crystal and small vases of pink and white flowers.
The atmosphere impressed Sam. Hope the food is good. They were seated at a table in front of a tall window. Sam ordered a bottle of wine.
“Are you divorced?” Sam asked, taking a sip of his chardonnay.
“I lost my husband three years ago. He was an attorney.”
“I’m sorry. Not a long time. My Ellen’s been gone seven years now. She was a music
ian, a pianist. Quite accomplished, actually. Do you have children?”
“I have a son living in California. He has a son, Bobby.”
“That’s far away…do you go out to visit much?” Sam gave the waiter their order.
“Not much. I have patients here who need me.”
“You must miss Bobby.”
“I do. I’ve been trying to get them to come here. They live in San Francisco. I promise them a country winter holiday…with snow, sledding and snowmen every year, but they haven’t made it yet.”
“Have you dated much?” Sam said, refilling their wine glasses.
“I have to confess, you are my first date since Elliott passed away,” Pat said, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“Really?” Sam said, raising his eyebrows.
“Things are so different these days.”
“Maybe not so different for those of us who are a little older.”
“I don’t have a biological clock ticking anymore. I have different needs now, as do you, I’d guess.”
“A man’s needs rarely change,” Sam said, chuckling.
“Sam!” Pat said, blushing and laughing.
“Companionship. Men are still looking for companionship.”
“I’m not naïve, Sam. It’s not exactly companionship causing lover’s lane to be so crowded these days,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
Sam took her hand and she smiled.
“A man of my age should have different expectations of me than of a much younger woman.” Pat stabbed a piece of boeuf bourguignon with her fork.
“What do you mean?” Sam asked in between bites of his chicken cordon bleu.
“Well, at sixty, the body isn’t the same as it was at thirty,” she said, lowering her gaze.
“Firm bodies are great but so are sharp minds, a sense of humor and affection. The same is true of men. What was once part of my chest seems to have traveled south. But love and sex at this age aren’t as much about body type as about other things,” Sam explained, taking a sip of wine.
“Like what? I never heard of a man wanting to sleep with a woman because she had a good personality,” Pat said, choking back a laugh.
Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey Page 5