Cause for Alarm

by Erica Spindler

  If she chose.

  Julianna returned her attention to the album, to the photos of Richard and Kate. As she gazed at them, Kate disappeared and Julianna became the woman on Richard's arm, the woman he looked at with such love. The one to whom all the good things had come.

  Yes, she thought. She chose to become the woman Kate was. To have what she had; to live her life.

  All she had to do was make it happen.

  12

  The Saturday morning crowd at The Uncommon Bean consisted almost exclusively of college students and singles. The former came to visit with friends or to study, the latter to meet other singles, a healthy alternative to the bar scene.

  This was the double-cappuccino, café-mocha crowd, and business had been brisk. Neither Kate, Blake nor Tess had been away from the counter except to bus tables since they opened up.

  "We're out of scones," Blake announced, placing the last one on a plate. "And if this crush keeps up, we'll be out of croissants and muffins, too."

  "What gives this morning?" Tess tucked her blond hair behind her ear. "Is it a holiday, or something? I've never seen it quite this busy."

  "The weather, I think," Kate replied, smiling and thanking a customer as she counted out her change. "Everybody wants out of the house when it's this pretty."

  "Not me." Tess passed a hand across her eyes. "I'd love to be home, in bed, the curtains drawn. I'd sleep 'til at least three, I swear I would."

  Kate shot the other woman a part sympathetic, part exasperated glance. From the looks of her employee this morning, she had been out partying the night before, no doubt stumbling in sometime around dawn.

  Tess smiled at the couple who approached the counter, took their order and called it back to Blake, who was manning the espresso machine. She glanced at Kate. "I met a guy last night. I think I'm in love."

  Here we go again. Tess, an art student at Southeastern Louisiana University in Hammond, was pretty, vivacious and smart-but an absolute dope when it came to men. She believed every line she was tossed and fell for every guy in a tight pair of jeans. Blake, not the most sexually conservative himself, said Tess had the morals of an alley cat. Kate was of a different opinion-she felt Tess used men and sex as a way to feel good about herself.

  That kind of thinking and behavior was not only self-destructive, it was downright dangerous, and Kate used every opportunity to try to counsel the girl. If only she could see how terrific she was. She didn't need a man, or anything else, to validate her.

  Kate shook her head. "Oh, Tess."

  The young woman frowned. "I don't know why everyone always says that to me."

  "Honey," Blake drawled, his back to them as he frothed milk for a cappuccino, "consider your track record. You fall in and out of love daily. Like a rabbit."

  "I wouldn't talk, Mr. Monogamy."

  "Yeah, but I don't call it love."

  "Okay children," Kate murmured, using the sudden lull to refill the pastry trays. "Let's not fight."

  "Besides this is different. He's different. Special. Older, more sophisticated." She looked pleadingly at Kate. "You believe me, don't you?"

  "It doesn't matter what I believe, Tess." She crushed an empty bakery box and stuffed it into the trash. "It's what you believe that matters."

  "See?" She made a face at Blake, who only shrugged and went to chat with a couple of the regulars. Tess leaned against the counter, her expression dreamy. "You know how you can just look at someone and know?"

  "Know what, Tess?"

  "That they're special. Different. That they're the one for you."

  An image of Luke popped unbidden into Kate's head. As he had been that first time she saw him, standing outside the student loan office, looking defiant and proud, yet somehow vulnerable, too.

  Kate shook her head, as much, she realized, to expel his image as to differ with Tess. "But can't that feeling translate to friendship? Just because someone is attractive to you, or thinks you're attractive, or makes you smile or whatever, that doesn't mean you have to fall in love with him. It doesn't mean you have to become sexual with him."

  Because sometimes when you do, it ruins everything.

  "It doesn't work that way." Tess drew her eyebrows together. "I only know how I feel, you know? It's like…" She hesitated before beginning, as if to gather her thoughts. "It's like, if I don't have him I'm going to go crazy or die. And when I get that way, I'll do anything to be with him."

  "Do anything to be with him?" Kate repeated, arching an eyebrow. "Even lie? Even cheat or hurt someone you care about? Even lose your self-respect?"

  Tess met Kate's eyes, her cheeks pink. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I would."

  Kate was taken aback. She hadn't expected that answer. Truthfully, she was shocked by it. "You can't mean that, Tess. And if you do, don't you think that's a problem?"

  "A problem? No." The younger woman looked dumbfounded at the suggestion. "Why should I?"

  "Tess, you're telling me you'd lie to be with a man. That you'd hurt yourself or a friend. In my book, that's a problem. It's not healthy."

  "You don't get it. It's because the feeling's so strong. And that's love. I know it is."

  "How?" Kate challenged. "You've been in love dozens of times in the past year, it's never lasted. If it were really love, it would."

  Blake finished with his customer and crossed to where they stood. He nodded his head. "I've been in love like that. The way Tess is describing. A couple of times."

  "Really?" Tess turned to him. "What happened?"

  He was quiet a moment. "Let's just say, I never want to feel that way again." Kate opened her mouth to console him, but he shook his head. "I'll clear the tables."

  Kate watched him walk away, heart breaking for him. Blake had not had an easy life, she knew. He'd had to battle discrimination and intolerance, even from his own family. He longed, like all people did, for love and acceptance, yet had had his heart broken time and again. And despite his acerbic sense of humor and oftentimes sarcastic tongue, Kate knew that deep down he was a softy with a heart of gold.

  "Don't you feel that way about Richard, Kate?"

  Kate turned back to the other woman, thinking back fifteen years, to her first meeting with Richard. To how she had felt during the first weeks and months of their love affair. Giddy. Flushed. Over the moon.

  She smiled at the memory. "I suppose I did. Once."

  Tess looked so disappointed for her, Kate laughed. "Nobody died, Tess. What you don't understand yet is that love and marriage are about so much more than what you're talking about. They're about commitment. And sharing. And trust. They're about working together to build a good life. And a family. What you're describing is new and exciting. But it's fleeting."

  "That makes me so sad for you."

  "Don't be. It's incredibly rich and satisfying." Even as she said the words, meaning them with her whole heart, she felt a tug of dissatisfaction, as if indeed, something were missing from her life.

  The feeling unsettled her, and she reminded herself that there was something missing from her and Richard's life- children. But they were remedying that.

  "You'll see, Tess. It's good. Really good. I promise."

  The conversation with Tess nagged at Kate for the rest of the day and into the evening. Even during dinner with Richard at their favorite restaurant, she had found herself going over each part of the conversation in an attempt to figure out what had triggered her melancholy. She had found herself thinking back, remembering their courtship, her feelings. Attempting to analyze his.

  From their first date, Richard had made her feel like a princess. Like the poor, plain stepsister who had somehow won Prince Charming. He had taken her places she had only dreamed of, had shown her a way of life so far out of her league she had been left wide-eyed with wonder. She had fallen madly, wildly in love with him. He had seemed to be just as in love with her.

  Seemed. She shook her head at the thought. Like all young couples, they'd had their troubles. He had been y
oung, used to getting his way, to being the center of attention. He had been something of a ladies' man; when they'd begun dating, he had been up-front about that. He didn't plan to get serious about one girl, he'd said. But they had become serious. And when they had, she'd demanded he choose.

  He had chosen her. And even though a half dozen times he had broken up with her to date someone else, he had always come back.

  "Kate?" Richard waved his hand in front of her face. "Did you want coffee?"

  She blinked, then flushed, realizing that she had been so engrossed in her own thoughts she hadn't even noticed the waiter approach their table. She smiled at the young man. "Yes, coffee. Thank you."

  "Bad day?" Richard asked as the waiter walked away.

  "Not really."

  He arched his eyebrows. "Then why so quiet?"

  "Have I been?"

  He smiled. "Let's just say, the coroner keeps livelier company."

  She laughed. "Sorry. I guess I'm not much of a date tonight."

  He leaned across the table and covered her hand with his. "Want to talk about it?"

  "It's silly." She laughed again, this time sheepishly. "You'll laugh, I know you will."

  "Try me."

  So she did, relaying her conversation with Tess. "The way she looked at me, as if she felt sorry for me, as if she thought our marriage was bloodless-" she lifted a shoulder "-it's left me feeling strange all day. Out of sorts."

  Richard made a sound of disbelief. "You're not letting her dingy notions about love bother you, are you?"

  "No, it's just that…" She looked away, then back. "Did you ever feel that way about me? Like you couldn't eat or sleep for thinking about me? Like you would die without me?"

  "Kate, listen to yourself. Tess is what? Nineteen? Twenty? From what you've told me, she's never even had a committed relationship." He leaned closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Face it, when it comes to love, she's clueless."

  "I suppose." Kate gazed out at the lake a moment, then looked back at him. "But did you? Ever feel that way about me?"

  "I still do."

  He leered at her, and she frowned. "Stop it. I'm serious about this."

  He sat back. "I can see we're having one of those kinds of conversations."

  "And what kind is that?"

  "One where no matter what I say, I'm damned."

  "That's not true. I'm trying to be serious and you're clowning around."

  "Serious about what?" Richard leaned toward her, catching her hand and drawing it toward him. "Tess has more mileage on her than the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile, and you're letting her opinions on love, on our marriage, bother you? You don't think that's just a little irrational?"

  Amused, Kate curled her fingers around his. "When you put it like that, it is pretty silly. Great image, by the way. The Wienermobile."

  "Thanks." He flashed her a smile. "Ever have one of those little wienie whistles?"

  "What kid didn't?"

  "Tess, probably. That's why she keeps looking for Mr. Good Wienie."

  Kate grinned despite the flash of sympathy she felt for her employee. "As simple as that, you think?"

  "I do." He brought their joined hands to his mouth, kissed her knuckles then released them. "Just think where you might have ended up if not for the Wienermobile visiting your local grocery store."

  "Just think." She sobered. "Richard?"

  He glanced up from perusing the bill. "Hmm?"

  She ran her finger along the edge of the table. "You don't…there's nothing missing in our marriage for you, is there? I mean, you're happy, aren't you?"

  "What a question." He shook his head as he dug his wallet out of his inside jacket pocket. "I'm completely happy, Kate."

  "Me, too." She made a sound, part contentment, part relief. "I just wouldn't want anything to happen to us."

  "Nothing will, love." He tossed his credit card onto the bill, then smiled at her. "That I can promise you."

  13

  Julianna caught the streetcar at the stop outside Buster's and headed uptown, to Citywide's office. She took the last remaining seat, vacated as she boarded by a hugely obese man wearing clothes that smelled vaguely of beer, tobacco and sweat.

  The smell lingered as did the warmth of his body and repulsed, she scooted forward on the seat until she was perched on the very edge. She longed for the days when she had zipped from destination to destination, without a thought to anything but her own convenience.

  Now, she was forced to use public transportation. To travel on someone else's schedule. With people she didn't know, most of whom she wouldn't want to know. Now, she was forced to endure screaming children and constant stops, the crush of bodies at rush hour and the occasional burp, fart or halitosis that went along with that crush.

  She found it irritating and distasteful. But it was cheap. She hadn't been in New Orleans twenty-four hours before she learned that the cost of parking in any of the lots in the central business district or French Quarter was outrageous. Working at Buster's certainly didn't allow her such luxuries, so when she had found one of the rare, free parking spots on the street near her apartment, she had maneuvered her car into it and hadn't moved it since.

  Julianna turned to the window and gazed out at the waning afternoon, trying to ignore the greasy smear on the glass. This wasn't forever, she reminded herself. Soon she would have all the things she loved and needed. Soon, she would feel like her old self again.

  Richard.

  And Julianna.

  She closed her eyes and pictured her future, imagined her days, how she would spend them, what her life would be like. Her life with Richard.

  It would be perfect, everything she ever longed for.

  She smiled to herself. Last night Richard had come to her in her dreams. He had whispered in her ear. That she was his everything. His lover and partner. His best friend.

  He'd told her he couldn't live without her.

  And they had been together. Sexually. Spiritually. Two souls made one, bodies entwined in an act of love so pure, so perfect, it defied the physical plane of existence.

  Kate had come to her as well. She had been smiling. Holding a baby in her arms. Completely content.

  Giving her blessing to the union of Julianna and Richard.

  The baby stirred inside her, and she brought a hand to her belly, pleased. The dream had been a sign, a marker sent by the universe for Julianna to follow. She was meant to be in Richard's arms, to fill his life. To be the one he counted and depended on.

  And Kate was meant to have a baby in her arms. Julianna's baby.

  She would give her baby to Kate, Julianna had decided. And in return, she would take Kate's husband.

  The streetcar rumbled to a halt. Julianna opened her eyes. They were stopped in front of a school. Through the wrought iron gates she could see a lovely courtyard; at its center, a fountain and a statue of the Blessed Virgin. A symbol of goodness and purity, one that guarded all against the encroachment of evil.

  Another sign. An assurance. She brought a trembling hand to her mouth. Destiny.

  The vehicle began to move, leaving the school and the statue of the Blessed Mother behind. Julianna twisted in her seat, craning her neck to keep it in sight as long as possible.

  When it had completely slipped away from her, she faced front again. She laid her hands across her swollen belly and smiled. Today she took the first step toward her future. Today she would tell Ellen that she had chosen Kate and Richard to be her baby's adoptive parents.

  The streetcar squealed to a stop at the corner of St. Charles and Sixth Street, her stop. The charity's office was located just off the Avenue, in a big old home that had been gutted and turned into an office complex, housing several small businesses.

  Julianna left the vehicle. The day, unseasonably warm for early February, had cooled with the descent of the sun, and Julianna hunched deeper into her coat. The weather report had promised falling temperatures-the result of a cold front that ha
d already moved across much of the country.

  From overhearing hundreds of conversations at Buster's, she had decided that New Orleanians were obsessed with the weather. She figured that was because it not only changed frequently, but ran the gamut, from flooding rains, to unexpected freezes, to temperatures hot enough to boil seafood. One of her customers had proclaimed that anybody who lived in a place that got as hot as hell's kitchen deserved to obsess about the weather a bit.

  She supposed he was right.

  Julianna reached Citywide's office and let herself in. Madeline, the receptionist, was not at her desk, and Julianna took a seat, figuring the woman was either in the common kitchen area down the hall or using the rest room and would be right back.

  Several minutes passed. From down the hall, the direction of Ellen's office, she heard the sounds of conversation. Ellen was in. Bored and antsy, Julianna stood and followed the sounds, stopping outside the social worker's partially open door. Judging by the one-sided conversation, the woman was on the phone. Julianna lifted her hand to tap on the door, pausing when she heard Ellen say the name Kate. Then the name Richard.

  Julianna caught her breath. Her Kate and Richard?

  Heart beginning to thunder, she dropped her hand and leaned closer, straining to hear more clearly. At that moment, Ellen hung up the phone.

  Julianna sprang back from the door, cheeks burning. Afraid Ellen was going to catch her lurking outside her office, she quickly stepped forward, knocked, waited a split second, then poked her head inside.

  "Hi, Ellen. Madeline wasn't at her desk, so I came back. I hope that's okay?"

  The woman smiled warmly. "Of course. Come on in, Julianna." She motioned to the two chairs facing her desk, closing the manila folder on top of the stack in front of her. "Have a seat."

  Julianna followed the movement with her eyes, the blood beginning the thrum in her head. Could that be Richard and Kate's folder? If she had just been on the phone with one of them, it seemed likely.

  She had to get a look at it. There had to be a way.