Been In Love Before: A Novel

by Bryan Mooney

  Once in Lauderdale-by-the-Sea, the narrow two-lane road was lined with big homes with acres of vacant land stretching as far as the eye could see, mixed with lofty condominium buildings.

  Eian pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant with its faded red-and-blue sign welcoming all to the Sea Watch Restaurant.

  He led Rose up the two flights of old wooden steps, then outside to the covered deck. It was deserted at that time of day, so he chose one of the choicest tables overlooking the ocean.

  “How’s this?” he asked.

  “Wow!” she said as the vista unfurled before her. Two huge sailboats glided out to sea, and windsurfers skimmed the waves near the shores. Farther down the beach, they could see paragliders riding high above the blue ocean waters. It was picture-perfect.

  They sat beside each other on the bench seat so they could both watch the ocean and the beach activities. She felt warm next to him. She felt safe.

  “What can I get you two lovebirds?” asked the tall, skinny waitress. It felt awkward and somehow broke the mood.

  “Rose?”

  “I’ll have a frozen margarita, with salt, please. You made it sound so good.”

  “Make that two.”

  “I have some menus for the two of you. We close for lunch at three thirty and reopen at five for dinner. If you get your order in before three, you should be fine. But we serve small plates and tapas all day.”

  “Leave the menus here. And we’ll order things as we go along,” he said. It was a wonderful afternoon. They sipped their drinks in silence and watched the boats go by as the tall dune grasses swayed in the gentle breeze.

  Over the next hour they leisurely ordered some crispy calamari, and then two bowls of conch chowder and a plate of hot fish fritters.

  Rose looked at him. “You were right; this place is wonderful. Thanks for bringing me here.” Then she paused for a moment before asking, “But why . . . why here . . . why me?”

  He dabbed his mouth with the cotton napkin and said, “It was such a nice day, and I didn’t want to spend it alone. I really needed somebody to talk to . . . and I thought of you.”

  She didn’t know what to say or how to respond. Until she finally asked him, “What’s wrong?”

  He shoved the drink aside and told her, “I played baseball with a bunch of young kids the other day on a building lot. I coached them, I played some ball with them, I taught them how to hit, how to catch, and how to field. And, Rose, it was the best feeling in my life.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I liked it so much that I’ve decided to leave the station and try to put together a South Florida little league to get kids involved in baseball again. I want to try to get them out of their rooms, away from their computers, away from the video games and everything else. I don’t need the money I’m making now. Hell, I’ve made enough money to last me two lifetimes. I’ve invested well since I’ve left the major leagues, and now I’m ready to do something I really enjoy. Am I crazy?”

  “No, you’re not, Eian. Do it. Why would you hesitate? Both of us are not getting any younger. Don’t wait.” She laughed and then became serious. “Eian, this is something you love to do. I can tell it in your voice and see the way your face lights up when you talk about it. Do it, otherwise you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”

  He smiled that smile she had always loved.

  “You’re right. Thanks, Rose, thanks a lot.” He hugged her, and in all the excitement, he kissed her on the lips. He didn’t know what to say. Or do. They sat on the windswept wooden bench, looking at each other, old friends—seeing each other differently for the very first time.

  Awkwardly he glanced at his watch. “I think we’d better go. I have to meet my brothers tonight. Then tomorrow, real early, I head out to California for a few days for the grand opening of a new training center.” He paused to help her up from her seat, and she stumbled and fell into him. She looked at him and could not move. He helped her steady herself, then looked around for their server. “I’ll call you when I get back, and we can . . . talk some more. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, and then wisecracked, “It seems to me I’ve heard that line once before, somewhere.”

  Eian chuckled. “I mean it. I will.” He kissed her on the cheek, his lips lingering longer than before, as he whispered, “I promise.”

  Once at Rose’s home, he went to get out of the car, but she stopped him and said, “I can take it from here. Eian, I had such a nice day. I can’t thank you enough.” She smiled, then kissed him on his cheek. “Talk to you soon?”

  “You bet.”

  She laughed, then closed the door and watched him drive away. Now what? What the hell am I going to do? He’s my best friend, she thought.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The two brothers waited impatiently outside the tuxedo store for Eian and Mickey to arrive.

  Robert looked at his watch. “He’s late again. Damn him.” He nearly spit out the words.

  “Bob, he’ll be here. You can count on it. Free food. Mary Katherine said Mickey’s paying for dinner.” He continued to pace around the front of the small storefront at Duke’s Tuxedo Shop. “Wait, here they come. Both of ’em,” said Ryan nervously. How was he going to let Robert know that Mickey was a Campbell? Robert seemed agitated for some reason. Why?

  “Hey, guys, look who I ran into,” said Eian.

  “Hey, Mickey, good to see you again. Let’s go inside and get measured,” said Ryan as they all shook hands and quickly went inside. He was anxious to keep everything moving. No time for small talk.

  Robert was measured first, then Mickey. Eian was followed by Ryan, who tried his best to keep Mickey away from Robert.

  The portly salesman who did double duty as the tailor told them, “Gentlemen, your tuxedos will be ready Friday, or you can get them Saturday, the morning of the wedding. If you have any questions, feel free to call me.”

  “I hope we have better luck here than the first tuxedo place,” said Eian.

  “You mean the one that went out of business?” said Ryan.

  “Yeah. That one.” They all laughed.

  Dinner was held at a nearby Irish pub, and when the evening was finally over, they said good night to Mickey and said they would see him at the rehearsal. On their way home, Ryan said, “Nice fellow, isn’t he?

  “Yeah . . . for a Campbell.”

  What? He knew. He must have known all along.

  “Robert, put it behind you, all of it. Let it lie.”

  “Never. He’s a Campbell, and that’s all there is to it, but I wasn’t about to shame our family tonight and say something about it.”

  “When did you find out?”

  “At the tuxedo store. I overheard Mickey say something to the tailor about being a Campbell and how he would love to wear the traditional Highlander kilt—the nerve. I’m surprised at you, hiding all that about him. And disappointed. Good night, Ryan.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  It was an early-morning flight. Eian had not been able to get a direct flight to California and had to change planes in Cleveland and was delayed there due to bad weather. He waited an hour, until they said the flight would not leave for another three hours. He was going to arrive in California late. He should call Paula, he thought to himself, and let her know so she would not worry. His phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Macgregor, this is Gentry, I work for our general manager, Todd Andersen. You and I spoke on the phone, and I was the one who arranged the tickets for you to come to the grand opening of our new training facility here in California.”

  “Oh yes, Gentry. I’m stuck at the airport in Cleveland, but I should be there for the opening tomorrow.”

  “Well, that’s what I was calling about. We had a minor glitch.”

  “What’s up?”

  “We had some terrible weather here, with lots and lots of rain. It caused the roof of the new facility to cave in and flood everything. We’re going to have
to push back the opening by at least a month. I feel really bad.”

  Eian, for some reason, felt relieved.

  “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to postpone your visit. I’ll be back in touch just as soon as we have a new date. We’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  “No problem. Call me.” He was off the hook. Now to call Paula. He dialed her number, and suddenly he didn’t know what to say as he heard her voice. “Hey, I was just thinking about you. Where are you?”

  “Cleveland. My plane was delayed by about four hours.”

  “Well, okay . . . call and let me know when you think you’ll be here. We’ll still have plenty of time. My husband doesn’t come home for at least a week.”

  “Husband?” he nearly shouted as he squirmed in his seat. She has a husband?

  “Yeah, you remember, I told you I got remarried but kept my maiden name. At least I thought I told you.”

  “No, you didn’t. You told me you were married before but it didn’t work out.”

  “It doesn’t matter; I’ll tell you all about it when you get here. In the meantime, I have the champagne on ice, chocolate-covered strawberries in the fridge, and my black-lace nightie on . . . all waiting to be unwrapped by you.”

  He heard a loud announcement in the background, but it wasn’t about his flight.

  “Was that your flight?”

  “Yes,” he lied. “It’s been canceled. Next flight is out tomorrow.” Then he thought about what he was saying and finally said, “Hey, Paula . . . I have to tell you . . . I don’t think this is going to work out. You and me. Maybe it would have in another time, other circumstances. You know? I’m sorry.”

  “What? Eian, are you saying you’re not coming?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “I had some really nice things planned for us to do. I mean, really nice. I spent a lot of time . . . and money putting it all together, just for the two of us. Nothing I can say to change your mind?”

  “No, I’m sorry, Paula.”

  “Me too, Mac. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  He smiled to himself. Yes, he did.

  “You take care of yourself,” she said before the phone connection went dead.

  He caught the next flight back home to Florida, and as he left the airport, he dialed Rose’s phone number. He could not wait to hear her voice.

  “Hello? Mac?”

  “Hi, Rose. My trip was canceled.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Just leaving the West Palm Beach airport. You know, I was thinkin’, I’m starvin’. Do you want to join me for some dinner? We can finish our conversation from yesterday.”

  “Yeah, I would like that.”

  “Pick you up in an hour?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. See you then.” He started to hang up but shouted her name, “Rose?” Nothing. “Rose?”

  “Yeah, Mac? What’d you forget?”

  “Forget?” His voice dropped to a low tone, one she could hardly hear. “I forgot to ask you . . . do you want to go to my niece’s wedding, with me . . . Saturday?”

  “This Saturday? Mac, that’s hardly any notice at all.”

  “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. You probably already have plans for this weekend, and it’s short notice, and I’m a real jerk for waiting so long to ask you. I understand, but I thought . . .”

  “I’d love to go with you, Mac. See you in an hour.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  He was now the happiest man alive. He was going to the wedding—with Rose!

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Mother?” Diane hollered from the first floor, looking up the steps. She was worried about her, as she had appeared distracted at the office. Something was troubling her. “Mother?” she said with a certain insistence that only daughters could muster. Still no answer. “Moth—”

  “Out here, Di,” a voice sounded from the kitchen. She walked through the house and sniffed the air. She could almost taste the flavor of fresh-baked cookies and warm bread. Her mother was an excellent baker, though baking was something Diane had never been able to master.

  The huge kitchen was filled with stacks of cookies, loaves of bread, and croissants that filled the counter. Six pies of various sizes and flavors were on a nearby cooling rack by the open kitchen window. Apple-cinnamon crusts, blueberry scones, and strawberry tarts were scattered about the country kitchen. Diane grabbed a couple of cookies. Delicious and still warm.

  The room smelled heavenly. Copper pots and pans, long spoons, and spatulas hung from a ceiling rack above Coleen’s work area. In the center of the kitchen was a long granite countertop perfect for baking and rolling cookies. It was something she had had installed years earlier.

  “Mother, what on earth are you doing? What’s going on? What is all this? Are you opening a bakery or something?”

  “No,” her mother said, stopping long enough to take a sip from her glass of white wine before she opened the oven door and retrieved a fresh batch of lemon sugar cookies from inside. “Just keeping busy, that’s all. Just need to put this last load of cookies in. Pour some wine for yourself and pull up a chair.”

  Diane had seen her mother like this once before, when her father died; she had fallen to pieces and gone on an eighteen-hour baking marathon. She dutifully opened the refrigerator and poured them each some wine.

  “Okay, tell me what’s going on,” she said as she unbuttoned her suit jacket and kicked off her high-heeled shoes. “What’s going on here?”

  Her mother sat down on a stool next to her. “It’s about Mac . . . he lied to me.”

  “What do you mean he lied? He doesn’t seem like the type. What happened?”

  “You know he gave me a gold puffed heart with a red ruby in the center?”

  “Yes, I know, you wear it all the time and . . .” Her daughter noticed it no longer hung about her neck.

  “When we were out the other night, he dropped his wallet, and when he picked it up he showed me a picture of his deceased wife.” She stopped and could not go on. Diane hugged her to encourage her, to release the pain she was obviously feeling.

  “She had on the heart. He gave me the same heart he gave his first wife. I saw a picture of her wearing it. He said I was special, but he lied to me.” She was nearly in tears as she drained her glass of wine and reached for the bottle to refill the glass.

  “He made me feel different,” she said between her tears. “I felt I was the only one in the world. He told me that I was his heart and soul and I could feel the rhythms of his heart. He even put my hand on his chest for me to feel it beating. Now I wonder if he said the same things to her? And who else has he said it to?” Tears were running down her cheeks; her makeup was a river of black lines on her face. “Diane, what am I going to do? I love that old Scotsman, and I thought he loved me, but now . . .”

  “Mom, I’m sure he does. Just in his own way, that’s all.”

  “Well, I have to tell you, I haven’t talked to him since Sunday. And I miss it, I miss him, but I just can’t bring myself to call him. I just can’t do it. What am I going to do?”

  Diane plucked some tissues from the box and handed her a few. “First, clean up your makeup. Second, pour some more wine. Third, call him . . . just don’t do it today. Sleep on it, and then call him tomorrow. For now, let’s cut up one of these wonderful pies! Oh, and Mom, check the stove, I think I smell something burning.”

  Chapter Forty

  “Claret! Woman, what’s with all those bags on the floor here in the bedroom?” he bellowed, glancing at the suitcases stacked by the hallway door near the top of the steps.

  “Angus, I told you before, I’m going to my son’s wedding with you . . . or without you. Today is Thursday, the rehearsal is tomorrow, the wedding is Saturday, and I plan to be there for it.”

  There was no one more stubborn than a hardheaded Scotsman, unless . . . it was a determined Scotswoman, and Claret was one of the finest. She lov
ed him and respected him, but sometimes she had to remind him who really was the boss in the family.

  Angus turned and walked away. He returned an hour later holding up his tuxedo in one hand and his kilt in the other. “Which one should I bring, dear?”

  She walked to him, gently smoothing the snowy-white hair on the side of his head. “Bring them both, dear heart.”

  “I’m sorry, you were right,” he said meekly. “I love you, Claret.”

  “I love you too—you obstinate Scotsman,” she said, gently touching the gold puffed heart that hung around her neck, the one he had given her so many years earlier. “Remember, he’s our only son, and he craves your love and respect. Don’t be afraid to give it to him and to those he loves. I don’t want to lose him. We’ve already lost one son; I don’t want to lose another.” She kissed him and draped her arm around his neck. “I love you,” she repeated.

  He held her tight. This would not be easy, but he knew what he had to do. He loved that boy like his own. He would make it work, if not for his sake, then for everyone else’s, especially Claret’s.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Robert picked Patti up at home and drove to her see his new house. He wanted his daughter-in-law’s opinion of the new place before he signed the final papers.

  She slowly exited the truck. Her back was aching, and it was becoming more and more difficult for her to stand up straight. She paused and took in a deep breath, massaging her lower back. She stood and admired the house. It was a two-story home surrounded by tall banyan trees, which provided welcome relief from the hot Florida sun.

  “It’s a nice house, Dad. Mom would’ve loved it,” she said as they walked through the graceful home, set back from the street. They walked through the entire house, and the more she saw of it, the more she thought it was perfect. The upstairs was cozy, with a bedroom, bathroom, and den. Back downstairs, she looked through the rear window and saw the lake outside.

  “Oh, and the lake is lovely,” she said, holding her belly. She had walked too much and now glanced around the room, searching for a chair so she could sit down and rest her aching back and feet.