The Risk of Loving

by Jane Peart

  Yet, it would never seem the same without Shari. Ginny needed a father and a mother.

  For some reason, Coryn Dodge came into his mind. Her eyes, so clear and candid, yet still holding a kind of mystery. What was she really like when you got to know her? Mark had the impression there were layers to her personality. Things he would find interesting, intriguing, exciting. Not that he’d ever know. She was going back to L.A. after the holiday.

  The morning after Thanksgiving Coryn awoke at seven. Her inner alarm clock working, she guessed, it was the time she usually got up to get ready to leave for the office.

  It took her a few minutes to compute that she didn’t have an office to go to, didn’t have to fight the early-morning freeway traffic. L.A. and everything there was now history.

  Tossing aside the covers, she got out of bed. Outside, early-morning fog swirled She pulled on a sweater and an old pair of jeans she found in her closet and went out into the hall.

  The house was quiet. On her way downstairs she passed her parents’ closed bedroom door. They must be still asleep.

  To her surprise her father was in the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee, something she had rarely seen him do. He looked preoccupied. When he saw her, he lifted his eyebrows.

  “You’re up early. Thought you’d sleep in this morning after being up so late last night.”

  “I was awake. I thought I might as well get up,” Coryn said. Ranger rose from his place under the table and, tail wagging like a metronome, came stiffly over to her. She rubbed his head, “Mornin’, old fella.”

  “’Fraid you’ll have to make coffee. I settled for instant,” her father said. He glanced down at the newspaper on the table. “I’ve got an early meeting and didn’t want to take the time.”

  “That’s okay.” She moved past him, got the canister of coffee down and started to measure it into the paper-filter cup. She gave him a curious look. He seemed on edge, as if something troubling was on his mind.

  “By the way, Coryn, I haven’t told you how glad I am you decided not to go back to L.A.” He folded the paper and pushed it aside on the table. “I hope you won’t try to get another job for a while. I was serious when I suggested you help with my campaign, if there is one. But aside from that, it would be nice for you to be here, keep your mother company. I think she gets pretty lonesome. Not good for her.” He paused. “Your mother misses you, honey. You know, the only chick, the empty nest syndrome. She’d love to have you home for a while. We both would.”

  That her self-confident, self-absorbed father needed her had never occurred to Coryn before. That he would verbalize it caused a little pinch of anxiety.

  Her father glanced at his watch, took a final sip of his coffee, then set down his coffee mug. “Got to be off. Meeting at eight.” He put his hand on her shoulder, kissed her cheek. “Think about it, honey. We really love having you home.”

  After her father left, Coryn felt puzzled. She thought of the subtle tension she had been aware of between him and her mother. Did he think her presence would act as a buffer somehow? Distracted by the thought, she plugged in the coffeemaker, and shoved two pieces of wholewheat bread into the toaster. While waiting, she stood at the sink staring out at the gloomy landscape. Wind tossed the limbs of the tall pines in a wild dance against the pewter sky. She had forgotten how long, dreary Rockport winters could be and suddenly felt depressed. Sometimes she had also been depressed in L.A. sunshine. So how she felt had nothing to do with the weather. Rather, she had shut one door of her life, slammed it actually, and she couldn’t see another door to enter yet. The sound of the toast popping up diverted her attention. Enough of this, she told herself, as she buttered it. She’d read somewhere that physical activity was the best antidote for depression. As soon as she’d had some coffee she would take a walk.

  Still, she couldn’t shake the conviction that something was wrong here. Terribly wrong. Maybe this was just some sort of temporary phase. She’d noticed her mother’s reaction to that Falvey man talking to her father about running for the assembly. Maybe they’d disagreed over the possibility of his going into politics. Whatever it was, it was upsetting the usual smooth surface of the Dodges’ home.

  A walk, that’s what she needed. A long walk. She took down her jacket from the peg near the back door and put it on. Ranger’s tail began to thump. His leash hung on one of the other pegs. All she had ever had to do was rattle it and Ranger was up and ready to go.

  “Want to go, fella?” Coryn asked, automatically reaching for the leash. Ranger tried to get to his feet, slipped on the vinyl floor. He sank back down, put his muzzle between his front paws, looked up at Coryn, as if to say, Sorry, these old bones won’t take me where I used to run.

  Coryn replaced the leash, stooped down to caress the dog affectionately, kiss the top of his head. “It’s okay, boy. Another time.”

  Outside it was damp with the chill of a typical north-coast winter day. Hands deep in her flannel-lined pockets, head bent against the wind, Coryn quickened her pace. Gradually, new energy kicked in. She felt a tingling sensation in her arms and legs. Her heart rate increased.

  She walked on mindlessly in the chill air, paying little attention to where she was going. Fog dripped from the tall Douglas firs along the way, she felt it beading her scarf. She tugged up the collar of her jacket, looked around. She had come much farther than she had meant to, preoccupied with thoughts that tumbled like a child’s alphabet blocks, the numbers and letters on them making no sense. She stopped, shivering with cold, to get her bearings. She had walked out of the familiar residential area into an older section of town. In the distance, through the fog, she saw the blurry lights of a neon sign spelling out the words Al’s Diner. It had been a favorite hangout in her teen years. She was about two blocks from the high school. She hurried toward the diner. She decided a cup of hot coffee would warm her up for the homeward trek.

  The air inside the diner was steamy, thick with the smell of frying bacon and sausage from the grill. She ordered a coffee at the counter then slipped into one of the red-vinyl booths.

  The waitress brought the coffee in a thick white mug, set it down in front of her and whipped out an order pad. “Our special today is potato pancakes or apple turnovers with sausage.”

  Coryn stared at the woman for a stunned moment. It was like being in a time warp. The same red V-shaped apron and headband. She must be a hundred years old. Hadn’t she worked here when Coryn was in high school?

  The waitress waited, her pencil poised. “So which will it be?”

  Coryn shook her head and said, “Just this coffee, thanks.”

  The waitress looked a little offended then went off, pocketing her order pad.

  Still feeling somewhat dazed, Coryn wrapped both hands around the mug to warm them and cautiously took a sip of the scalding-hot coffee.

  “Coryn.”

  Hearing her name made her jump. She set down the mug, spilling a little, and looked up, right into Mark Emery’s warm brown eyes.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He stood beside her table. “I was just surprised to see you. I mean, I thought you were going back to L.A. after Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s okay. It was just that I was sort of spaced out.” She mopped up the spill with the edge of a paper napkin.

  “May I join you? Or would you rather be alone?”

  “No. I mean, fine. Please do.”

  Mark slid into the seat opposite her. “I always stop here to get coffee to go and a doughnut to take to the office with me. I was surprised to see you here.”

  “This used to be an old high-school haunt. I was out walking, and just thought I’d drop in to warm up.”

  He opened the top of the plastic coffee container he’d been holding and spooned in some sugar from the dispenser. He stirred his coffee for a minute while looking across the table at her.

  Even at this early hour, Coryn Dodge looked undeniably attractive. Her eyes bright, her skin glowing from the
outdoor exercise.

  “I thought you’d be back in L.A. by now.”

  Coryn shook her head. “Not yet. I’m staying through Christmas. Maybe longer. It depends.”

  Her vague answer seemed to puzzle him. He gave her a quizzical look, then said, “I’m afraid I have disturbed you.”

  “Not at all,” she quickly protested.

  “You sure? You seem…”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I was just doing some heavy thinking. Not advisable this early in the morning.” She gave a small laugh. “I guess if I decide to stay in Rockport, I have to figure out what I’ll do. I’ll have to find a job of some kind. I don’t even know where to look. This town has changed a great deal since I lived here.”

  “For the better?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure. It seems like I’ve been away for a long time. At least it feels that way.

  “Meaning L.A. is light years from Rockport.” He sounded amused but his eyes were sympathetic. “It does take getting used to. But I’m finding I like the slower pace, the laid-back life-style.”

  Mark checked his watch. “Gotta run. I’ve an appointment out in Field’s Landing. I’m doing a feature on seniors. It’s turned out to be fascinating. Each person I’ve interviewed is different. Some regard old age as the end, while others are like kids, enthusiastic, looking forward, trying new things.” Mark shook his head. “Funny, some people are old at fifty, others young at eighty.” Mark took a final sip of his coffee and stood up. “It was nice seeing you again. Now that you’re staying, maybe we’ll see each other again.”

  “It’s a possibility.” She smiled. “It’s a small town.”

  He smiled then, too. A smile that brought a warm light to his deep brown eyes and caused Coryn’s pulse to quicken. Then, with a wave of his hand, he was gone.

  Coryn remained a few minutes thinking about the coincidence of running into Mark so soon after their encounter in San Francisco. It was a small world. Chances are they would see each other somewhere again. That is if she really decided to stay in Rockport.

  She left the diner and started back toward home. So many jumbled thoughts crowded into her mind. She knew she had made the right decision about Jason. That wasn’t what troubled her. What she should do next was the problem. Her father’s words this morning had bothered her. There was something beneath his casual suggestion that she stay home for a while. But what?

  Her parents had always seemed completely content together. In fact, sometimes she had even felt they didn’t need anyone else—not even her-to be happy. The ideal couple. That’s how she had always thought of them. That’s why it seemed so odd-Coryn brushed aside the worrying thoughts that crept back. Was her parents’ perfect marriage coming apart?

  She turned in the driveway and saw the kitchen light was on and her mother was standing at the window. When she saw Coryn she smiled and waved. Coryn waved back, feeling reassured. Maybe she had let her imagination run away with her. Everything was fine. Just as it had always been.

  December

  Chapter Five

  Coryn’s parents expressed their satisfaction that she had given up her job in L.A. and decided to remain in Rockport.

  “At least until after the first of the year,” she said cautiously not wanting to make any promise she couldn’t keep. “I have many things to figure out.”

  They accepted that without comment whatever they secretly hoped she might decide to do.

  “Oh, it will be marvelous having you here for Christmas,” her mother said. “I do think you should call Cindy and make some plans since you’re going to be here longer than you thought.”

  So the first week of December, heeding her mother’s urging, Coryn finally called her childhood friend Cindy Barnes, now Cindy Lowell. There was no excuse for not letting people know she was back in Rockport. At least temporarily.

  “Coryn, how great!” Cindy exclaimed when Coryn called to make a date for lunch. “Lora will be so excited. You can’t imagine how often we talk about you. About all the things the three of us used to do.”

  “There’s a lot to catch up on,” Coryn answered, “Where shall we meet?”

  “There’s a new restaurant in Old Town I’ve been dying to try, the Seafarer. Tuesday’s best for me. That’s Benjy’s day at nursery school. I’ll contact Lora so she can work on getting a sitter.”

  Hearing this Coryn remembered with a shock that her two best friends were now mothers. Of course, she’d sent baby gifts. But she’d almost forgotten. The people she knew in L.A. were mostly single.

  “Can’t wait to see you,” Cindy said gaily before she hung up.

  Suddenly Coryn had mixed feelings about the upcoming reunion. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to stroll down memory lane. Would she feel completely out of touch? Would the three of them, who once were so close, have much in common after all this time? Would it feel strange now that their lives were so different? Well, it was too late to worry about that.

  Old Town had once been a run-down waterfront area, lined with derelict buildings, empty storefronts with broken windows, seedy bars and dilapidated Victorian houses in various degrees of decay. Most people had avoided walking along the grim streets even in broad daylight, afraid of being panhandled by disheveled drunks, or confronted by loudly arguing tavern patrons standing outside the dingy entrances.

  About six years earlier, a group of civic-minded merchants, retailers, businessmen and city officials decided to clean up Old Town. They’d transformed it by turning what was already there into touristattractive places. They’d restored, renovated, repaired the buildings, leaving their unique architecture intact. The streets with brick walkways and old-fashioned lampposts established a nineteenth-century atmosphere. Boutiques, bookstores, toy shops, art galleries, restaurants, all conforming to the theme, gradually opened. Soon shoppers and tourists were flocking to Old Town.

  During the pre-Christmas season, Old Town was a magic place. Uniquely trimmed Christmas trees stood in front of every shop and store. Swags of evergreen and twists of laurel leaves studded with bunches of bright red holly berries, draped from lamppost to lamppost. From the gazebo in the center of Old Town, a carillon played Christmas music, lifting spirits into the holiday mood and motivating shoppers to even more gift buying.

  An old-fashioned horse and carriage with a driver dressed in appropriate garb provided an authentic Dickensian touch to the scene.

  The Seafarer was one of the newer restaurants, decorated with nostalgic touches of the 1800s. On the walls were framed photographs of early woodsmen standing proudly on huge felled timber, and of the large cargo ships that used to sail into Rockport Bay when it was a thriving seaport of fishing boats, their nets bulging with their catch. Bentwood chairs were placed at round tables covered with redchecked cloths. Baskets of ferns hung at the windows, which offered scenic views of the wharf. This had become the favorite eatery for women shoppers and it was always busy.

  Cindy and Lora were already seated when Coryn arrived after leaving her mother at the beauty salon. Both women greeted her warmly and rose to give her hugs, declaring she looked wonderful.

  “It’s that Beverly Hills touch.” Lora sighed dramatically.

  “Definitely,” Cindy agreed, laughing. “So tell us all about life in the fast track.”

  “Hardly life in the fast track,” she said. “Fighting freeway traffic, work, frozen dinners…”

  “Oh, come on! Surely there’s some glitter in all this!” Cindy looked skeptical. “A man?”

  “No one special,” Coryn said, and knew it was now true. She was glad the waitress came to take their order.

  Decisions were made with much ado about dieting and calorie counting, exchange of quotes from the health-food-nut instructor of the aerobics class they were taking.

  Finally, the patient waitress left with their menus and the conversation immediately turned to reminiscing. Coryn felt herself drifting off from the conversation. She couldn’t remember half the things they were re
calling. If she stayed in Rockport, would she fit in again? The only one of the trio, not married? Could she find a place here again, a life-style that would work?

  Coryn looked at her two friends. The three of them had grown up together, sleeping over at one another’s homes nearly every weekend, sharing dates, proms, opinions. They had been secure in their friendship. One by one they had paired off, gone steady, fallen in love. The spring they had all graduated college she had been a bridesmaid in both weddings. That summer, she had gone to L.A.

  Their seafood salads were served and they chatted about mutual friends and whatever-happened-to-soand-so. The waitress reappeared and rattled off the day’s list of delectable dessert possibilities. Reluctantly they passed on it.

  “I feel so virtuous I think we should go shopping,” Cindy declared, laughing.

  “Sure, why not?” Lora agreed as she got out her compact to freshen her lipstick. “I’ve got a sitter for the rest of the afternoon.”

  Lora glanced at Coryn, “How about you? It’s not Rodeo Drive but they do have some new stores at the mall.”

  Coryn checked her watch. She had more than an hour to spare before she was supposed to meet her mother. Yet, she didn’t want to extend the visit with her old girlfriends a minute longer. “I’m sorry, I can’t join you this time,” Coryn said. “I’m meeting Mom after her hair appointment. I promised I’d help her Christmas shop, she has a list a yard long.”

  “She does?” Cindy looked surprised. “That’s funny, I ran into your mom in October. I remember because I was getting Halloween things for the kids. She joked about having nearly all her Christmas shopping done.”

  “That’s another thing I always admired about your mother, Coryn,” Lora commented. “Besides being gorgeous. She was always so organized, on top of things.”

  Coryn felt a small flutter in her stomach. That was the reputation her mother had. But since she’d been at home, there had been a series of incidents that troubled Coryn. Sometimes Clare seemed vague, forgetful, confused. Doing things like leaving the stove burners turned on, as her father had pointed out. And there had been other things. For a moment, she considered what Lora had just said. Something kept her from making the glib comments she might have given ordinarily.