Katherine's Prophecy

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Katherine's Prophecy Page 23

by Scott Wittenburg


  Emily said nothing and kept her eyes on the road.

  “Hang a right at the next light,” Lenny told her. When she reached the intersection, Emily slowed down and turned right then glanced over at Lenny expectantly.

  “It’s a little further on up this street. We might as well start looking for a place to park.”

  Emily spotted a parking space and pulled into it then turned off the ignition. Lenny noticed that she looked a little nervous all of a sudden, and asked, “Are you all right?”

  She smiled at him weakly and replied, “Yes. I guess I’m just hungry—”

  “Well, let’s go see what we can do about that!” he said sprightly as he started opening the door.

  “Lenny . . .” Emily said suddenly, grasping his arm.

  He looked at her imploringly. Even in the waning light he could see the troubled look in her beautiful blue eyes. “Yes?”

  She stared at him for a moment then looked away. “Never mind.”

  Lenny placed his hand on hers. “What is it, Emily?”

  She looked at him again. “It’s nothing. I just . . . I just want you to know that I’m not very good at this.”

  Lenny was stymied. “Not good at what?”

  She looked embarrassed, her eyes even more innocent looking than usual. “At . . . being with someone,” she replied, struggling to get the words out.

  He tried to comprehend what she was getting at, but didn’t have a clue. “I’m a little confused here. What do you mean by ‘being with someone?’ Are you a nun or something?”

  Emily forced a smile. “I might as well be,” she replied with a painful sigh. “Let me put it another way. I haven’t been out with a guy in over ten years. You’re the first one since then.”

  Lenny was incredulous. He sensed that this was a sensitive issue, so he tried hard to hide his disbelief. “Well, I feel honored, to say the least. I don’t suppose you want to tell me about it, do you?”

  She looked past him and out the window. “Not now, maybe later. I don’t even know why I told you. I guess I wanted to see how you’d react—I don’t know.”

  Lenny chose his words carefully, not wanting to upset her anymore than she obviously already was. “And how was my reaction?”

  She smiled again. “I can tell that you were shocked, but you didn’t show it. That was what I’d hoped you’d do.”

  Lenny returned her smile. “So I did okay, eh?”

  “Yes, you couldn’t have done any better, really. Now that that’s all been said and done, maybe we could skip it for now. Okay?”

  That familiar voice, but not quite the same edge. “No problem. What do you say we go eat?”

  Emily smiled brightly. “Let’s do it—I’m starving!”

  With that, they both got out of the bus and began walking up the street toward the restaurant. Lenny’s mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out Emily Hoffman and what she’d just told him. But instead of feeling that he was finally getting somewhere, he now realized that she was only becoming more and more mysterious the more he got to know her.

  Emily was observing the people and storefronts curiously along the way, prompting Lenny to comment. “This is Astoria—a very Greek neighborhood.”

  Emily nodded. “I see. I wondered why there were so many Greek names.”

  When they reached Moretti’s, Lenny held the door open for Emily and followed her inside. It wasn’t very crowded and they were quickly shown to a table near the window. They both ordered coffee and began looking over the menu.

  “Mind if I smoke?” Lenny asked.

  “No, not at all,” Emily replied.

  He took a cigarette out and lit it up. The coffee came, and Emily said, “Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Actually, the only thing I’ve ever had here is the lasagna. It’s delicious, though.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll have,” Emily declared.

  Lenny closed his menu. A moment later, the waiter came over and took their orders.

  “This is nice,” Emily commented, sipping her coffee.

  “Yeah, I like it. I haven’t been here that often; I usually eat at home.”

  “You cook?”

  Lenny shrugged. “I have to. I definitely can’t afford to eat out every day.”

  “Is your business fairly steady, or does it fluctuate like the antique business does?”

  “Lately it’s only been fluctuating between bad and worse,” Lenny replied dryly.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve come to grips with it. The problem with this city is the way you have to hustle all the time just to keep your head above water. If it weren’t so damned competitive here, I could be doing much better. But unfortunately, it is competitive—more so than I care to deal with,” he added with a note of finality.

  Just then, the waiter came over with their salads. They ate in silence and were nearly finished when Emily finally said, “Did you get a chance to read all of Crime And Punishment?”

  “Not quite,” Lenny replied. “I’ve taken a good bite out of it, though.”

  “Pretty cerebral, isn’t it?”

  Lenny nodded. “It sure is.”

  Moments later, the waiter returned with their meals. “Is there anything else I can get you?” he asked.

  “No thanks.”

  “This is wonderful,” Emily said after sampling the lasagna.

  Lenny nodded in agreement. “Almost as good as my mom’s.”

  They ate ravenously and spoke very little. Lenny sensed that Emily was in deep thought throughout the meal and wondered what was going on in her mind. He recalled what she’d told him in the bus and it continued to gnaw at him. How in the world could this lovely woman go ten years without dating anybody? he wondered. And why had she mentioned it to him in the first place? As an explanation for her aloofness, perhaps? To help explain why she hadn’t called him again while he was in the hospital? Or had she told him simply to drive a point home—a means of reaching out to him for either his advice or his sympathy, depending on what her intentions might be?

  The waiter returned. “Would you care to have dessert?”

  Lenny looked at Emily. “Uh, not me.”

  Emily shook her head. “I’m stuffed. I wouldn’t mind having a drink, though . . . To celebrate your release from the hospital,” she added, giving Lenny a wink.

  “Sure, sounds good to me!”

  “What would you like, Miss?” the waiter asked.

  “Scotch—over ice, please.” she replied.

  “And you, sir?”

  “A Rolling Rock, if you have it.”

  “No Rolling Rock.”

  “A Heinekin, then,” Lenny said.

  The waiter nodded then walked away.

  Lenny leaned toward Emily. “I haven’t had a beer in over a month!

  She smiled broadly. “Then this one will be extra-special, won’t it?”

  “It sure will,” Lenny replied.

  The waiter came with their drinks. Emily lifted her glass and offered a toast. “Here’s to you and your freedom,” she announced ceremoniously. “And this may sound awful, but I’m sort of glad that I ran into you, Lenny Williams.”

  Lenny tapped her glass with his beer bottle and smiled, his eyes lost in hers. “And I’m sort of glad to have been run into by you, Emily Hoffman.”

  They both laughed and then sipped.

  The atmosphere in the tiny restaurant seemed to change, all of a sudden. It became a stage of sorts, quiet and comfortable with only the two principal players present, ad-libbing their lines. They drank slowly and spoke sparingly—every word, every gesture carefully devised and thoughtfully delivered, neither wanting to disappoint the other.

  Such is love in its embryonic stage . . .

  But reality, in its imposing nature, came into play and put an untimely end to this moment of magic.

  Emily glanced out the window and noticed that there was nearly two inches of fresh snow on the ground. “I�
�d better get going before it gets any worse,” she announced suddenly.

  Lenny gaped at her in shock. “You’re driving home tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “How far did you say it was to Ashland Falls?”

  “A couple of hours,” Emily replied.

  “There’s already two inches of snow out there! Maybe you shouldn’t drive back until tomorrow.”

  She eyed him reassuringly. “I’ll be all right. The bus does very well in the snow and besides; I have a puppy waiting for me who’s probably pretty hungry by now.”

  Lenny knew it was futile to try and change her mind, but tried anyway. “You could stay at my place if you’d like. I can sleep on the couch.”

  Emily shook her head, her eyes hinting that familiar expression of retreat. “I’ll be fine. Thanks anyway, though.”

  Her eyes softened somewhat, and she placed her hand on Lenny’s. “I’ll be careful. Thanks for your concern.”

  Lenny’s eyes never left hers, “Will you promise to call me when you get home?”

  She balked a moment, looked away then looked back at him, her expression somewhat reticent.

  “Okay. But I’ll need your phone number.”

  Lenny took out his wallet and withdrew one of his business cards. “Either of these numbers will reach my apartment,” he said, handing it to her.

  Emily looked it over and replied, “All right.”

  Lenny squirmed a little before saying: “Uh, I don’t suppose I could get your phone number, too?”

  To Lenny’s surprise, she smiled. “You don’t think I’ll really call, do you?” Her tone of voice was playfully accusatory.

  He cast her a sidelong glance. “Well, your track record hasn’t exactly been perfect.”

  Emily giggled, dug out a pen from her purse and jotted down her phone number on a napkin.

  “Here it is,” she said handing it to Lenny. “But you won’t be needing it. Tonight, anyway,” she added.

  Lenny stuck the napkin in his shirt pocket. Emily picked up the check and studied it then took out her billfold

  “Why don’t you let me handle it?” Lenny offered.

  “No way,” she replied decisively. “And don’t say another word about it.”

  Lenny sighed in defeat as Emily plopped down a five-dollar tip on the table. He stood up, helped her into her coat and stood by futilely while she paid the check.

  “Thanks for dinner,” Lenny said as they made their way out the door.

  “You’re welcome, Lenny. I really enjoyed it.”

  “So did I.”

  Outside, the snow was coming down heavily with huge flakes blowing in from the northwest. Darkness had fallen, and there was a still silence in the normally noisy neighborhood.

  “It’s beautiful,” Emily said, looking around her.

  “It sure is.”

  Their pace was slow as they made their way in silence toward Emily’s bus. Once inside, Emily started the engine and turned on the windshield wipers before pulling out onto the street. They had driven several blocks before Emily suddenly turned and faced Lenny.

  “I truly have enjoyed being with you today, Lenny. I don’t know quite how to say this, but I feel really good being with you.”

  Lenny could tell by the intensity in Emily’s eyes that it had taken a great deal of determination for her to get the words out. He smiled. “If I told you that I feel the same way about you, would you believe me?”

  Emily replied softly, “I’d try to.”

  Lenny reached over and took his hand in hers. “Don’t just try, Emily. Just believe . . .”

  Her face lit up and she gave his hand a light squeeze then focused her eyes on the road.

  They drove the remainder of the way to Lenny’s apartment in a pensive silence.

  When Emily pulled up behind Lenny’s car and put the gearshift into neutral, Lenny said, “You sure you won’t reconsider?”

  She looked at him with genuine regret. “I wish I could, Lenny, but I can’t. I’ll call you as soon as I get home though—I promise.”

  “Okay, but be careful. And please drive slowly. I know this Krautwagen has decent traction, but it’s not a snowplow, you know.”

  She chuckled at his obvious display of over-protectiveness and said, “I’ll drive very slowly and be very careful, Lenny. Don’t worry!”

  Lenny heaved a long sigh—he didn’t want her to go. He leaned toward her and gazed into her beautiful blue eyes. “Call me the second you get home,” he said softly.

  “I will,” she whispered back.

  He moved closer until his face was only inches from hers. Her lips looked warm, inviting.

  “Would you mind if I kissed you?” he asked timidly, feeling like a kid in high school on his first date.

  “No,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

  With his heart nearly leaping out of his chest, Lenny slowly brought his lips to hers. They were soft, wet, and full. His arms went around her, encircling her tiny body. He pulled her against him, gently and passionately. Her hands touched then rested on his shoulders. Her scent was like a field of wild roses, her skin soft as a baby’s. Her kiss was tentative at first; she seemed unsure of herself—like a schoolgirl being kissed for the first time. Then her lips slowly parted, allowing him to explore as innocence turned to passion and she allowed herself to relax.

  Moments later, Emily gently pulled herself away and gazed into his eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Are you all right?” Lenny asked, confused.

  She smiled suddenly. “Yes, I’m fine. That was wonderful.”

  “But you’re crying.”

  “I know, but they’re tears of joy.”

  Lenny hugged her tight. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought I’d done something wrong.”

  Emily reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. But I’d better be going.”

  He let go of her regretfully and said, “Be careful.”

  “I will. And I’ll call you.”

  Lenny pecked her on the cheek then reached for the door handle. “Do you know how to get back from here?”

  Emily frowned. “I’m not really sure.”

  “Did you come into town on the Triboro Bridge?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Just stay on this street until you reach Astoria Boulevard then take a left at the second light past it. That will take you right up onto the Triboro. It’s only five minutes away.”

  “Okay.”

  “Call me when you get home,” he said.

  “I will. Goodbye, Lenny.”

  “Bye, Emily,” he said and shut the door.

  Lenny watched as Emily pulled out onto the street and headed north on 31st Street. Seconds later, she tooted the horn and he waved to her in response then waited until she was out of sight before heading up the steps to his apartment building. When he reached the door, he fumbled for the keys in his pocket and unlocked the door. As he stuck his key into the lock of the inner door, Lenny realized that he was grinning from ear to ear and his head was buzzing like a bee.

  “My Dream Lady lives,” he breathed aloud as he stepped inside.

  CHAPTER 16

  As she pulled away from Lenny’s apartment building, Emily Hoffman was in a daze. She was experiencing an emotional high so intense that she could almost swear she’d died and gone to heaven.

  She had fallen in love with Lenny Williams . . .

  And as unlikely as it seemed, Emily wasn’t surprised in the least that she’d fallen for him so quickly. In fact, ever since the very first time she’d ever laid eyes on him, lying flat on his back the night the cab had hit him, she had felt herself mysteriously attracted to Lenny Williams.

  Emily reflected on the irony of the situation and smiled to herself. Doctor Langstrom had adamantly advised her to start socializing with people again and, if at all possible, to try and establish a relationship of some kind with a male companion. The
sooner, the better, he’d told her. Her isolation was her greatest problem and it needed to be addressed and dealt with. “You have built a wall around yourself, Emily, and you’ve deprived yourself of male companionship for virtually all of your adult life,” he’d said. She was to try and forget the pain and suffering she’d endured in the past, and move forward into the future.

  She had of course immediately jumped on the defensive, insisting that her problem had nothing to do with men or the lack thereof. The nightmares were the problem, she’d told him. They haunted her every day; each one being even more frightening than the one preceding it. She couldn’t sleep for fear of having a nightmare. But it was a no-win situation because she had to sleep sometime. And when she did, she always had a nightmare. Wasn’t there some kind of drug she could take that would allow her to sleep without dreaming? she’d asked the doctor. He’d merely shook his head and told her no, adding that even if there was, it wouldn’t cure her condition. It would only mask it.

  The sessions had been extremely difficult—particularly the first few. It had been embarrassing and agonizing, describing her dilemma to a total stranger like that. It would have been hard enough confiding in someone she knew and trusted; but sharing her most intimate experiences with a psychiatrist in New York City, who had been referred to her by yet another psychiatrist whom she didn’t know from Adam seemed inconceivable.

  But somehow, perhaps out of sheer desperation, she had finally managed to tell Doctor Langstrom everything: the relentless nightmares, the sexual abuse by her father, her experience with Ted Chalmers, her family’s tainted, mysterious history—the whole ball of wax.

  And once he’d heard the whole story, Doctor Langstrom promptly confessed to her that never in his entire professional career had he come upon such a “complicated and fascinating” case as hers. This had done little to encourage her, to say the least. If anything, it had made her feel like some kind of freak, and she’d almost walked out on him that day. But Doctor Langstrom must have realized what he’d done, because he had immediately apologized for his “poor choice of words,” and had assured Emily that he would get to the root of her problem and find a way to alleviate her suffering.

 

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