Quincy touched her shoulder, he leaned in to kiss her cheek again, and she said the first thing that came to mind, which—thank God—was, ‘Say hello to Erika for me.’
‘Of course I will.’ Quincy said. ‘Murph, I’ll see you Sunday. Oh, one more thing. About what we discussed—keep me posted so I don’t make an ass of myself.’
‘Now that might be kind of fun to see. See you Sunday.’ Will waved, stifling a yawn before turning his attention to Caroline. ‘Hiya, Squirt.’
‘Howdy, Frosty. Boy, did I miss you,’ she said—a little breathlessly she thought.
‘Did you?’ he said.
Caroline rubbed the back of her neck and looked down at her feet. This was a mistake. He was weary and she was overenthusiastic. ‘Yeah. You should go home. Right now.’
‘I should, but let’s go up to my office. I have to get my coat and something else.’ He snapped his fingers, trying to think of the something else.
‘Your wallet, your hat, your briefcase?’
‘Yes, and my sunglasses.’
‘Those are sticking out of your breast pocket.’
He felt his chest. His sunglasses where she said they were. ‘Oh, look at me. Bea was right. We’ve got to go home and go to bed. I mean I’ve got to go to bed.’
She laughed again. ‘Why don’t I go up and get your things and you go on outside and hop in a cab. I’ll bring your stuff home for you.’
‘No, no, you come on up.’
She pumped a fist in the air. ‘Woo-hoo! I finally get to see where you do all your important lunch planning.’
‘Few are as privileged,’ he said as they stepped into the elevator together. The doors began to close and he nudged her. ‘I missed you too.’
She smiled up at him and looped her arm through his. ‘I’m glad you’re back.’
‘So am I.’
It was strange to be suddenly out of breath when her heart was machine-gunning in her chest. Caroline wondered how she could she kiss him without making it seem like she was a girl rushing the stage at a William Murphy concert because she was his biggest fan. She was coiled, ready to spring, about to rip off his clothes and take any pieces of him she could, but something tempered the overeager teenage sensation, something that was irritating and sweet at the same time. ‘Tell me something, William.’
Will looked down at her. Her tone had turned grim, and she’d pulled her arm from the crook of his. Well, crap, that was not a good sign. Will’s throat began to hurt—also not a good sign—and he’d neglected to press a numbered floor button. The elevator remained stationary. ‘What is it, Caroline?’
‘Did you …’ she bit her top lip for a moment, ‘… did you, um … threaten Alex?’
He answered frankly. ‘Yes.’ He watched her cover her face and huff. It made him wish he wasn’t so damn honest.
She heaved a half-laugh-half-sigh before she dropped her hands. Had she smiled?
‘I see,’ she said. ‘Were you going to tell me about it?’
Will shook his head. He poked a finger into the button for his floor. The elevator gave a small joggle, and began to travel upwards. He took off his tinted glasses and rubbed his eyes.
She said, ‘How come?’
‘I thought it was something I could take of quietly.’ He put his glasses back on.
‘You like to take care of things, don’t you?’
‘I’m usually pretty good at it. I mean, outside of deciding where to have lunch, taking care of bits and pieces for someone else is what I do for a living.’
‘But you know this isn’t something you can take care of. It’s not like lending me your tools or fixing the leaky sink.’
‘I realize that now. I’m sorry.’
‘I have to take care of this myself.’
‘I know.’
She touched his sleeve. ‘Don’t get me wrong, William, I think it’s very considerate of you to want to help, but I need to do this myself. I need to face Alex head on and get it over with by myself, but thank you for caring enough to sort of piss me off.’ Caroline looked up at him, into his eyes, and smiled very softly.
Okay. She’d smiled. Will thought that a good sign. The problem was he was a good listener and what stood out in that last sentence was piss me off. It was far better to nip this in the bud, before this strange ballet they were doing went any further. He had to be the adult and his decision had to be final.
Yes, it was back to the languid, comfortable life he had, which was really pretty good, except maybe hassle-free comfort wasn’t really he what wanted anymore.
Was it?
He looked at his neighbor, and tried to do the right thing by them both. ‘Caroline, about the day before I left for India … my behavior that evening was less than exemplary. I had too much to drink, but that’s no excuse and I must apologize. I was out of line with that.’
‘You don’t have to apologize.’
‘Of course I do. I should keep my hands to myself because we’re neighbors, but more importantly because we’re friends. Why should we confuse the issue? I like you too much to wreck our friendship. I think that’s how we should leave things.’
She nodded. ‘I’m so glad you understand.’
He took her to lunch, but there was a dissatisfying awkwardness during their meal. Will wasn’t pleased with the bud-nipping choice he’d made. It lay in his stomach undigested and sour the way Chinese spring rolls did.
Caroline sat across from him with a huge grilled Mediterranean vegetable sandwich she’d only eaten an eighth of, asking questions about his trip to Mumbai. Covering his mouth as he yawned, Will leaned an elbow on the table, his left cheek in his palm. He looked at her sideways and nibbled the Parmesan breadstick that accompanied his roasted tomato and red pepper soup.
‘Have you ever traveled further into India?’ she said.
‘Once or twice, but not this time.’
‘You’ve been to Tokyo, haven’t you?’
‘A few times.’
‘I thought you probably had,’ she said. ‘You’ve been all over the world.’
‘A few times.’ He yawned again, politely holding a hand over his open mouth.
‘Aside from all the Godzilla carnage, how does Tokyo compare to Singapore?’
‘It’s cleaner.’
‘Is Toky—are you all right, William?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Am I boring you?’
‘Why would you think that?’
‘You’re nearly monosyllabic, and you’re not really looking at me. I mean your gaze moves from me to my sandwich. Do you want my sandwich?’
What Will wanted was to slide into the booth beside her, pull her into his arms, and go to sleep like the time they had on his couch. ‘The jet lag’s hit me hard and I forgot to take my melatonin before I went to bed on the plane so my sleep cycle would reset.’ I’m worn out by two things: the jet lag and knowing you’ve been back with Alex. ‘It’s jet lag and nystagmus,’ he said. ‘That’s why it seems I’m not looking at you directly and I’m yawning so much. I’m very interested, Caroline, but I’m exhausted, and I just can’t … focus.’
‘You should go home and get some rest. I knew this was a bad idea. I got a little overexcited that my best friend was back.’
‘I’m your best friend?’
She smiled. Her face flushed that lovely pink he liked so much. ‘Yeah. Well, actually you’re still my only friend. Pathetic, huh? My social life seems to hinge on you, and who you know. You’ve been very nice about inviting me along to meet your friends.’
‘We all like you, but we’re a little old for you, aren’t we? That’s why you’re so quiet when you’re with us.’
She crossed her arms. ‘You know this old thing? It’s bullshit.’
‘Come on, my generation’s touchstone film is Easy Rider, yours is … Sixteen Candles.’
‘Your generation? You’re too young for Easy Rider.’
‘I’m a baby boomer.’
‘And I was eight
when you were eighteen. I watched Bewitched and the Wild Wild West, The Brady Bunch, and The Partridge Family. So did you.’
He shrugged. ‘I have no taste. I watched everything on TV. I still do. It didn’t matter if I was seventeen when the show premiered, I honestly liked The Partridge Family, it was hilarious, but your n—’
‘I’m a baby boomer too, William.’
‘No you’re not. You’re not Gen-X.’
‘Well, maybe I’m in the middle of both.’
‘Okay, you’re in the middle, but you put yourself on the outside.’
‘I’ve always been introverted, and since I was in the hospital I’ve become even more cautious.’ Frowning, she huffed. ‘Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to be friends because we made out, is that what you’re trying to do?’
‘No, I’m not saying that at all.’
‘Then what are you doing? Why does it seem like you’re picking a fight?’
‘I’m being a big cranky baby.’ Leave him Caroline. Leave that shitty, stalking, abusive rat. Don’t go back to him. Leave him for good.
‘Well, let’s get you home and out of those stinky pants.’
Caroline put him a cab and sent him home.
It was nearly two o’clock when the taxi driver woke Will in front of his toast-colored six-flat apartment block. He thanked the man, paid him, and swayed like a drunk as he climbed out of the back seat. Once he’d staggered upstairs, unlocked his door and pulled off his clothes, he had a shower, dried off, and crawled beneath the covers of his bed, his hair wet.
Forgetting to take melatonin tablets again, Will fell asleep in seconds—and began dreaming. He’d replaced the smart-mouthed, wise-cracking Danny on The Partridge Family. Instead of the freckly, redheaded Danny Bonaduce trading barbs with David Cassidy and Susan Dey, the sarcastic quips came from a husky, ten-year-old albino boy wearing an eye patch, and young William Murphy had been quite a hit.
There’d been lunch boxes with his likeness smiling beside Shirley Jones, platinum records, personal appearances, talk shows, and a campaign that educated people about albinism, but just after he arrived for a photo shoot with Annie Lebowitz, a droning buzz made him open his eyes to reality.
He looked at the large clock beside the bed. The glowing red face read 18:37, it was dark outside, and he’d been asleep over five hours.
He lurched out of bed, grabbed the towel from the rail on the back of the bathroom door, and wrapped it around himself as he went to answer the door.
‘Yes, who are you?’ he asked through a gaping yawn.
‘Hi, it’s me.’
‘Vonnie. I thought you were coming tomorrow. Where’s your key?’
‘I haven’t found it yet.’
‘Come on up.’ He let Yvonne upstairs and stood by the door, his head resting against the open frame. He yawned and shivered in the cool air.
‘Hello, Willie. I just wanted to drop these off.’ Yvonne came inside with an armload of law books, her briefcase perched on top. ‘Were you sleeping?’
Will adjusted his towel. He gave her a peck on the cheek, took the stack from her arms, and carried it to the study.
‘Oh you were sleeping, weren’t you, and I got you out of bed?’
‘M-hm. I got back from a trip to Bombay, I mean Mumbai, this morning.’
‘Sorry about that. You look like an attendant to the snow queen with your hair sticking up in a big swooping drift. You went to bed with it wet, didn’t you?’
‘Uh-huh.’
She waved him off with her fingers. ‘Well, go back to bed. I’ve got to review this case. I’ll swap those books for another pair. I’ll wake you at seven-thirty for dinner.’
‘Use the study, take what ever books you need, cook whatever you want, but I’m not getting up again until tomorrow morning.’
Will lumbered sleepily back to bed, tossing his towel over the bedroom door, falling right back into his Partridge Family dream in a matter of seconds.
When he awoke at five the following morning, feeling refreshed and renewed, his eyes opened to find his arm around the curve of Yvonne’s waist, her back pressing into his chest.
Will rolled to his back. Yvonne turned over and slid her leg over his thighs, moving her body on top of his. With a sly little smile she began to kiss him. He shifted their combined weight and rolled her beneath his frame, kissing her familiar, full mouth.
‘It looks like Little Willie’s wide awake,’ she said, her long fingers caressing his body.
For the first time he could ever remember, Will had sex with his ex-wife without feeling any emotional connection to her. The act was straightforward. He kept his eyes closed the entire time. He performed with lazy, mechanical action that simply got the job done with pleasant efficiency.
***
Caroline’s nose dripped as she pushed into the foyer, out of the ice-tinged morning air. She wiped her face on her sleeve and blew her runny nose into the hem of her sweat-stained shirt.
‘Good morning, Caroline!’ Yvonne said from the stairs. She wore a gray double-breasted Alexander McQueen suit with a Prince of Wales check pattern.
‘Hello, Yvonne,’ Caroline said, feeling grubby and smelly. Odds were she was grubbier and smellier than she felt.
Yvonne looked as fresh as a summer morning. ‘I never could get out of bed to exercise first thing in the morning, like you and Willie do, especially on a gray day like today. I guess that’s how you stay so skinny. Is it very cold, Caroline?’
‘In two weeks you’ll need your heavy winter coat, we’ll get snow just after Halloween. I hate Chicago in the winter. Everything’s so bleak.’
A car horn sounded outside. ‘That’s my taxi. Sorry I can’t stay and chat.’ Yvonne opened the door. ‘You know, if Erika throws a Halloween party this year, you’ve given me an idea for costumes for all of us.’
‘What, smelly sweats?’
‘No. Gone With the Wind. Willie and I could be Rhett and Scarlett, and you could be sweet li’l Melanie.’ She tossed her head back, laughing. ‘Bye now.’
Feeling grubbier—or maybe she was confused, irritated, disappointed and grubbier—Caroline trudged up the steps. Yvonne had relit that tiny sliver of wood on a mostly-burnt matchstick-torch that William had for her, and William had doused the sparks of a new romance that lived next door.
When she reached the landing between their apartments, Caroline looked at her neighbor’s door, and wondered if he was over his jet lag. She knew he wasn’t over his ex-wife, but why did that matter?
She still struggled with pinpointing how she felt, wondered if what she felt was real or appropriate.
Whatever she’d been thinking when he’d come home yesterday, the knots of excitement, those notions of kissing him, the confusion over the exact kind of friendship she wanted with William—how she felt about him—was better left untouched.
She went into her apartment and had morning coffee alone.
Chapter 12
Will took a moment to adjust the knot of his tie before he picked up his ringing phone. ‘Good morning, Quincy,’ he said.
‘No. Sorry Murphy, it’s John Reginaldi. How the hell are you?’
‘I’m doing great, Reg. How are things over at Foxhollow?’
‘Just fine.’
‘Yes, Reg. I saw you on The Big Valley this morning.’ Most mornings the radio was churning out the oldies station, but on Tuesdays, Will liked to watch The Big Valley on the TV Land channel. He had a thing for Linda Evans, and enjoyed her on Dynasty, but he was particularly fond of her work on the old sixties TV Western.
Reg chuckled. ‘Yeah, I was a pretty handsome fella back then, wasn’t I?’
‘You were something, Reg. I liked those chaps they had you in.’
‘I think I was probably the first pro golfer who ever did a guest shot on a western. I tried to get them to let me wear a big white Stetson, but Miss. Stanwyck wouldn’t stand for that. Let me tell you why I’m calling. It’s Puddin’s birthday this Friday.’
Will had shifted the phone to his other ear. ‘Excuse me. It’s her what on Friday?’
‘Her birthday, her first since coming back into the world. So it’s like a birth day, you know? I thought it would be nice to have a little party for her. I know she likes you, and I was wondering if you might know a few people we could put together for a little cake and ice cream at the club here.’
‘I think I can do that.’
‘Good. I thought you might. Now, I don’t want her to know I’m planning anything so can you be really quiet about it?’ Reg said in a hushed tone. ‘All she knows is we’re having dinner, but it would be nice if there were some other people there besides my buddies. I’ll arrange a cab for you so you don’t have to drive home in the dark.’
‘You let me worry about that.’ Will slipped a pen into the inside pocket of his jacket.
‘Okay. I’ve got a table reserved for up to ten, so invite the boys downstairs and anyone else you think would be happy to help celebrate.’
‘It’s as good as done.’ Will said, fastening his watchband.
‘Thanks for that. I knew I could count on you.’
Will set the phone to speaker and began to make his bed. ‘Reg, can I ask you a couple of questions?’
Reg chuckled. ‘Well, my favorite guest spot was on Mission Impossible. I got to be a card player in that episode. I even got to kiss Cinnamon Carter, you know, Barbara Bain.’
Laughing, Will pulled the sheet taut and tucked in the edges like on a hotel bed. ‘I meant I wanted to ask you a few question about Caroline.’
‘You want to get her a birthday present?’
‘Yes, that would be nice, but I was wondering if you could tell me about Alex.’ When the sheets were smooth and the feather duvet was in place, Will fluffed the down pillows and put them at the head of the bed.
Reg went quite for a moment. ‘What is it you want to know?’
‘Has he always been abusive?’
Reg exhaled. ‘He was a nice boy at one time, but he always had a temper, mind you. And that mother of his is some piece of work, isn’t she? Puddin’ told me you had a run in with Bethany. It’s too bad you never had the chance to meet her husband, Gus. He was a good man. Alex used to be more like his father than the mother. Anyhow, Alex and Caroline had quite a unique relationship. Reminded me a little of you and Vonnie.’
Next To You Page 21