Between Friends
Page 31
“This is the living room. Here … let me take your coat.” She held out her hand as he slowly shrugged out of the jacket and handed it to her.
“I have a foldout futon in my office,” she explained. “Or you can sleep on the sofa. It pulls out, too.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his eyes slightly red and bleary as he continued to stare at Dallas.
“The office. You’ll have some privacy and quiet.” She moved sideways, heading into the hall and beckoning him after. “It’s through here. Do you want anything to eat?”
“I think I’m too tired to eat. I’d like to take a shower,” Alex responded, stretching his shoulders and rubbing his eyes. He was done in.
Dallas nodded, pushing open the door to her office and letting Alex precede her in. “Across the hall …”
He stepped into the room, and turned around once to survey it. Alex faced her again and shook his head wryly at her. “Sorry. No change of clothes. No toothbrush. I bet I look funky and smell worse,” he murmured.
She grinned at him. “Don’t apologize. I’ll look around and see if I can find anything my brother might have left here.” She turned away.
“Dallas?”
She hesitated at the sudden gentle urgency in his voice. “Yes?”
Alex slowly approached and stood right in front of her. She stared up into his face, and all the things she’d ever known about him—or him about her—seemed to spring up between them. There was a peculiar familiarity, yet her stomach warned her that something was very different. Alex wrapped his arms around her lightly, and she responded naturally. She squeezed her eyes closed to vanquish an image.
Valerie …
It was a slight embrace, however, and when Alex released her again, Dallas sighed.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
She averted her gaze. She felt not so much shy as careful.
“You … you’re welcome. I’ll hang up your coat. If you need anything, let me know. If you want to call anyone …”
Valerie …
He wearily swept his hand over his head. “The hospital. I want to know how Ross is doing.”
She pointed to the phone. “Go ahead.”
Dallas pulled the door partially closed as she left the room and retraced her steps back to the hall closet, where she hung up their coats. Then she had to stop for a moment to catch her breath. Guilt made her feel warm and flushed. Her invitation to Alex now began to seem foolish … and hypocritical in light of her discussion with Valerie. She had offered Alex her hospitality in a truly spontaneous moment, but Dallas knew that the gesture could lead to more.
What had she been thinking? What was going on? And what was it she felt that made her so nervous and confused around Alex suddenly?
Dallas put on fresh coffee and searched for something she might prepare to eat. It was after ten o’clock. She couldn’t help but notice that having Alex in her apartment felt very different from any other visitor. She’d only entertained one other man since her divorce, and Burke’s presence had never been a comfortable one.
Dallas heard movement down the hall. She leaned out of the kitchen entrance. “Let me know if you need anything,” she called out.
Alex appeared briefly in the bathroom doorway. He’d already stripped to the waist, had removed his shoes and socks. The shower water hissed in the background, and steam began to waft around him. He leaned against the door frame, one hand casually in the front pocket of his black jeans. The motion forced the waistband down to expose his navel. Dallas remembered suddenly when she was sixteen and she had boldly sought Alex out at his apartment. She had a vivid flashback of what had happened that night between them.
“I … I can make something to eat …”
He shook his head. “Not for me. Is that coffee I smell?” She nodded. “That’s good …”
But then they stood staring at one another down the length of the hall. Finally, Alex pushed upright, entered the bathroom, and closed the door.
When the phone rang, it made Dallas jump. She hurried into the living room to answer. Under the circumstances, the first person that came to mind was Eleanor calling about her father.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I figured you’d be home about now.”
Dallas sat on the arm of her sofa. “Hi, Dean. I just got in.”
“I tried calling you at the office. I need to talk to you, Dallas.”
She frowned, apprehension rising quickly. “Is it Daddy?”
“No, no. It’s about Alikah. Mom is seriously getting on my nerves.”
“Well, what do you want me to do? She won’t listen to me either right now. We’re in the same doghouse … or at least adjoining rooms.”
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I just need some advice.”
“There’s nothing I can tell you that you can’t tell Eleanor yourself. Don’t judge a book by its cover … stuff like that.”
“Mom is a proud black woman, but she doesn’t understand that Alikah is, too. It has nothing to do with her hair, her clothes, or anything.”
“See, you know what to say. Stick to what you believe, and be prepared for the fallout.”
He sighed. “Man, I’ve been feeling the fallout ever since I tried to introduce them.”
“I ask you again. What do you think I can do?”
“I don’t know, but I thought maybe … can I come over? I’ll only stay a few minutes.”
Dallas heard the bathroom door open again. She looked toward the hallway, expecting Alex to appear. But of course he didn’t. Not without clothes. “I … I can’t tonight.” There was a momentary silence.
“Got company?”
“Yes,” she admitted smoothly.
“You and Burke made up?”
“It’s not Burke,” Dallas had to clarify, if for no other reason than she didn’t want her brother to think she wasn’t on to Burke and how he’d treated her.
“Yeah? Who?”
“Dean …”
“Okay, okay, it’s none of my business.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I think I’ll lay low for a while. Maybe if she doesn’t hear from me she’ll figure out that my life doesn’t belong to her.”
“What if she doesn’t come around?”
“I love Mom, but … that’s her problem.”
Dallas chuckled in disbelief. “You’re willing to risk excommunication for Alikah?” He laughed. “Wow.”
“Well, if it wasn’t Alikah, it might be some other woman. What if she had been white?”
“Well?” she prompted.
“Okay, I get it. Same thing. I’ll let you know how things go with Mom.”
“Night, Dean. Good luck.”
She hung up and wondered about the call. Dean had never been one to seek advice from her about his love life. Maybe this woman was going to be the real thing. Or close enough that he had the strength of his own convictions.
Dallas poured a mug of coffee before she went to the office. She was making up the futon for Alex when she heard him behind her. She turned to find him standing with a towel wrapped around his waist. Another was draped over his shoulders. She noticed that Alex’s chest, like his eyebrows, had almost no gray hair in it. Alex lifted the towel and began to briskly rub his head, causing the strands to spike on top. There were fresh black and blue contusions on his shoulder and arms. More on his rib cage and thigh. Probably from the rescue, Dallas guessed.
His bone-deep weariness made his movements slow and lethargic. She didn’t feel any embarrassment or discomfort from his naked state. After all, this was not the first time. She silently pointed out the mug on her desk. Alex lifted the cup and took a long swallow.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and thick. “I needed that.”
“Or a shot of whiskey. But I don’t have any,” she teased quietly.
He grinned tiredly at her. Alex glanced down at himself. “Sorry. I should have pulled my pants back on at least.”
“I don’t mind,” Dallas said smoothly.
“I wasn’t trying to be fresh or anything.” He shook his head. “Maybe I should just shut up before I say something really out of line.”
“Maybe you should just go to bed and get some sleep.”
He nodded. While she finished the bed, he glanced over the papers and things on her desk and bookcase. He found a bracelet made of plastic multicolored hearts and held it up with a questioning rise of his brows.
It was a painful reminder to Dallas. “It belongs to Megan. She left it on her last visit.”
He turned it over thoughtfully, drank more coffee. “Did Valerie stay, too?”
Dallas opened a closet and pulled out a pillow from the top shelf. She fluffed it and threw it casually on the futon. “Yes, but they left early.” She looked at him. “Do you want to call her? Let her know where you are?” Alex stared back at her, but she wasn’t uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
He shook his head. “No, I don’t. I want to tell you something.”
“You’re tired. It can wait until tomorrow.”
“It can’t.”
Dallas stood with her arms crossed as Alex sat on the edge of her desk and wearily rubbed his hand back and forth through his damp hair. She focused her attention on the center of his chest. “What is it?”
“I’m breaking it off with Valerie. I’m not in love with her.”
Oh, my God, Dallas thought. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you need to know. Right now.”
Her gaze raised to his, and she felt her heartbeat jump. “Have you … told her this?”
Alex flexed his jaw and shook his head. “Not yet, but it’s coming.”
The way he was staring at her was beginning to make Dallas nervous again. She felt as if Alex was drawing her to him with an invisible power that, nonetheless, felt inexorable. She felt no resistance. “I … don’t think I want to …”
“There’s someone else.” She didn’t respond. “Don’t you want to know who?”
She shook her head. “No … no, I …”
“Dallas …” he interrupted.
“I’ll get you some more coffee.” She took the cup and quickly left the room.
Her heart was racing, and she felt too hot. Alex was too close. But the emotions that coursed rapidly through her were a mixture of light-headedness and anxiety. As if she knew this moment was coming but had ignored it. She took her time to pour the coffee. Dallas was afraid to return to the room. She was afraid not to.
By the time she got there, however, Alex had discarded the towels and gotten into the makeshift bed. He still had Megan’s bracelet banded around the four fingers of his left hand. And he’d fallen asleep.
Watching Alex, Dallas felt a constriction in her chest. She admitted to herself that what she was feeling for Alex Marco was significantly more than mere friendship. Perhaps it had been there for as long as she’d known him. But that didn’t mean that all was right with the world. There were still more questions than answers, not the least of which was, would she and Alex have to redefine what their relationship was?
“… There was a dramatic rescue this afternoon, when a news helicopter went down in New York harbor with the pilot and a local reporter on board. Unfortunately, the pilot is being reported as dead, drowned, apparently, when he was unable to release his safety belt. Several teams of divers from the police department and the coast guard were aided by two ex-navy SEALs who operate a dive shop and sometimes conduct advanced training to police scuba-diving units. Mark Mackenzie was on the scene near the East River heliport when the body of the pilot was brought ashore. Mark …”
Lillian gasped, and her hands covered her mouth as she saw the hazy camcorder image of men in black gear. They were being assisted with their equipment as the reporter attempted to interview them.
“Oh, my god! Vin … wake up. Look. Look! It’s Alex …”
Vin started awake next to his wife as Lillian placed her hand on his shoulder and shook him.
“For Christ’s sake, Lilly. What’s the matter?” Vin turned over and struggled into a half-sitting position. “You sick or something?”
“Vin, it’s not me. Look. There’s a report on TV about a rescue. It’s Alex, Vin. Alex was there …”
“What are you talking about?” Vin muttered. Still dazed, he watched the quickly changing images on the screen. “I don’t see Alex.”
She nudged him in his arm. “There! Did you see him?”
A shot of Alex appeared on screen as he pulled off his mask and breathing apparatus. He still wore the hooded top, but there was no mistaking him.
“Listen to what they’re saying about him. He was in some special team in the navy, Vin. He never said anything about that before. Alex helped with some crash in the river today …”
Vin squinted and stared. Finally, he reached blindly for his glasses and perched them on his nose.
“… dangerous attempt under adverse weather conditions. Again, there is one confirmed death, that of the copter pilot, and two men hurt and removed to area hospitals, although we haven’t been told how serious the injuries are. Reporting live from the East River Pier on Thirty-fourth Street, I’m Mark Mackenzie. Now back to the studio …”
Lillian burst into tears.
Vin sat up. “Lilly, what? Why are you crying?” He tried to comfort her.
Lillian rejected him as she covered her face and sobbed. “He could have been killed today. I can’t stand it. I couldn’t take it if … if Alex …” She turned on Vin, her eyes watery and blazing with anger. “I want you to stop, you hear me?”
Vin gestured helplessly. “Lilly …”
“You listen to me, Vincent Marco. When I fell in love with you, I didn’t ask you first if you were Italian. I didn’t ask your sister who fathered her son before I said we’d raise Nicky like he was our own. I didn’t hate you when I found out that Alex was your child. You don’t ask those things, and you don’t place blame when you love people. Alex is your son!”
Vin collapsed against the pillows, looking bewildered and tired. He shook his head. “I know …”
“Well, you don’t act like it. When are you going to stop blaming him for your mistake? When are you going to see that Alex is a good man? He doesn’t want anything from you but for you to accept him as your son.”
“Lilly, please …” Vin whined, unable to defend himself against the truth. “You’re right.”
“I love you, Vin, and I’m sorry to say this to you. I know you adored Nicky. I know you adored your baby sister … but … but …” The tears rolled down her face. “Nicky wasn’t half the man Alex is. You know that. You know that. Maybe if I … I could have had children …”
Vin took his glasses off and sighed wearily. He pulled Lillian into his arms and absorbed her anguish. “Don’t say that. You know it doesn’t matter to me. I love you. Please don’t cry, Lilly. I’m sorry.”
“Alex could have been killed today. Oh, Vin … we could have lost Alex, too.”
Vin stared at the screen. The anchors had moved on to another report, but he wondered if they would repeat the story about the rescue mission in the river. He wanted to see it again. Not because he didn’t believe it, but because it confirmed what he would never allow himself to admit. Just like Lillian had said. Alex was, in every way, a son to be proud of. The kind of son he’d always hoped for.
Dallas was irritated when the doorbell sounded early the next morning. She was already awake, but that didn’t make it okay for Dean to show up.
There was no time to get dressed. She hurriedly donned a silk floral robe from behind the bathroom door. Dallas went barefoot down the hallway to the front of the apartment. The doorbell buzzed a second time as she reached it. She absently ruffled her fingers through her damp hair and tightened the belt around her waist before unlocking and opening the door. She was prepared to light into Dean, and was thrown off guard when she found Burke standing on the welcome mat.
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For a long moment she stared wide-eyed at him, unable to fathom why he was there. He was dressed as urbanely as ever, fresh and alert for a day of business. He seemed not contrite but somewhat cool and aloof, as if this were just another matter of business. No consideration for her time or feelings.
“Good morning,” he drawled.
Still Dallas stared at him and realized that it might have been weeks since she last thought about Burke.
“What are you doing here?” Dallas opened calmly.
He raised his brows and spread his hands. “That’s all you have to say? I knew you’d be up. I figured I’d catch you before you left the house.” He casually swept his attention over her undressed state.
“This isn’t a good time,” Dallas responded. Under his scrutiny she touched the front of the robe to make sure it was closed securely. She stood partially behind the door, using it somewhat as a barrier between them. “You should have called first. I …”
“So you could put me off? I thought I’d extend the olive branch, or whatever that saying is.” He stepped toward her. “Aren’t you going to let me in? I can’t stay long anyway.”
“I’m getting dressed …”
A small knowing smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “Come on … I’ve watched you get dressed before. I’ve seen you without a damned thing on.”
His saying so seemed particularly off base to Dallas. She debated just closing the door in his face. But that was childish.
He put his hand on the door. “Come on, Dallas,” he said with a touch of asperity. “I’m here and this will only take a few minutes.”
She hesitated, and then stepped back to allow Burke to enter.
“Thank you,” he said sarcastically, heading for the living room,
Dallas followed angrily behind. He settled himself on her sofa, crossing his legs. She remained standing to make sure that Burke understood she didn’t consider this a long visit.
“Why don’t you sit down? You act like we don’t know each other.”