Chapter Twenty
Everett
I woke up with Vivienne sleeping peacefully in my arms and realized that it had been a very, very long time since I had woken up like this. I had slept peacefully through the night, having been able to quit worrying, even if only temporarily, about both Jane and the saga at school. I leaned over, trying not to wake her, and looked at my clock; it was seven in the morning, far later than I usually stayed in bed. Still, there was no doubt I needed a bit of a sleep-in after all the stress of everything that had happened, and everything that was still going on. It was still rather early, so I tried to be quiet.
Despite how careful I'd been in moving, Vivienne started to stir. She opened her eyes and smiled, and then leaned in and squeezed me tightly. I hugged her back, and we simply lay like that for a while, with the morning sunlight coming in bright golden shafts through the gaps in the drapes.
Eventually, we disengaged, and I smiled at her when her eyes finally fluttered open.
"Morning, beautiful," I said. "How'd you sleep?"
"Outstanding," she muttered lazily.
"That was quite a night."
"Yes, it was," she replied with a flirty grin. "I haven't had a night like that in... maybe ever."
"I haven't either; I really needed it."
"I'd venture to say that makes two of us," she said.
“Give me a minute to call the hospital and see how Jane is doing, then I’ll be right back. After a quick call and an assurance from the nurses that Jane was doing okay and still asleep, I turned my attention back to the woman in my bed.
"Let's throw on some music," I said. "I always like to listen to music in the morning."
"Sure thing."
I went over to my CD collection, which I browsed through for a while. I grinned as I spotted a record that I thought would be ideal.
"Hey, I'm gonna play a song for you," I said to her, smiling cheekily.
"Alright," she replied, smiling curiously.
I took the CD out of its case and popped it into the stereo, and then skipped to the track I wanted. I hit “play” and started nodding my head as the opening guitar riff started coming out of the speakers.
"Recognize it?" I asked as Alice Cooper's “Poison” started playing.
"Yeah... I know it very well," she said, and a strange look came over her face – a look I hadn't been expecting at all. It was like a kind of veiled sadness. It seemed, for whatever reason, that this song was bringing back some bad memories.
"I can change it if you don't like it," I said cautiously. "I just thought that everyone liked this song."
"No, no, it's a great song," she said. "It's just that it reminds me of my dad."
"Oh, I see," I said. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"
"No, how could you have known? No, look, let's listen to this and enjoy it. It brings back good memories of him, and I'm really lucky to have had such a great dad."
"How uh, how long has he been gone?" I asked, sitting down on the bed next to her and wrapping a sympathetic arm around her.
"It's been around four years now. He had an aneurysm; it was quick and painless for him, thankfully. I didn't have to see him suffer or slowly deteriorate and waste away or anything so I guess I should be grateful for that."
"I suppose out of all the ways, that's a pretty good way to go, as long as it doesn't happen when you're young."
"He was 67 when it happened."
"It's a decent age," I remarked. "Many don't make it that far."
"Yeah. Well, he was my only parent growing up. My mom died in a car accident when I was two, so I don't remember her at all."
"And he never remarried?" I asked.
"No, never. Stayed single for the rest of his life. He truly loved my mother; said no other woman could possibly take her place."
"He sounds like a really great guy," I remarked.
"Believe me, he was. And all this 70’s and 80’s rock and metal stuff, that was totally his thing. I grew up with that music playing in the house all the time."
I chuckled. "There are definitely worse soundtracks to grow up with."
She laughed, and it was good to see a smile on her face.
"There sure are. You know, he was an exceptionally talented guitarist."
"Was he, huh?"
"Oh, he was, believe me. We had a room in the house that was his, well I guess these days they'd call it a 'man cave.' But yeah, he had this big Marshall stack amplifier in there, a Gibson Les Paul, and a huge rack of effects pedals. He would sometimes sit in there for hours on end, just playing. And he could play all of the well-known guitar solos note for note, seriously."
"Wow. I was gonna say that I can play a little, but that's just strumming chords. It'd take me years to learn to play even a simple solo. Did he play in a band?"
"He did when he was young, but after my mom died and he had to take care of me by himself, he just didn't have the time for it anymore."
"You know, I was raised by a single parent too," I said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, except in my case, it was by my mom."
"And did you have any siblings?" she asked.
"A younger brother and a younger sister. You?"
"No, I'm an only child. So, what happened to your dad, if you don't mind me asking?"
I felt a ripple of darkness rush through me as I thought about him.
"He was a deadbeat. A drunk. He used to beat my mom up a lot. He would get wasted and disappear for days. One day, when I was eight, he got really trashed and, as he always did, he got in his car and drove off. And that was the last we ever saw of him."
I watched a veil of shock consume her beautiful face.
"Oh, my... That's awful," she remarked and hugged me tightly. "It must have been difficult for you."
"To be honest, it was a relief for us kids. He used to smack us around, too, and with him gone, there was no more screaming and fighting and breaking things. His leaving hit my mother hard, though; for all his abuse, I think she really loved the guy. She fell into a bit of a funk after he left, and as young as I was, I had to step up and be the man of the house. I had to grow up quickly; I was taking care of my mother and my younger siblings. I got my first job when I was nine – mowing neighbor's lawns and washing their cars after school. It also motivated me to work really hard in school, because somehow, even at such a young age, I knew I would need to get good grades to get into a decent career, in case I would need to just go on supporting my mom indefinitely. I've been working hard since then."
"Well, motivated a very admirable trait."
I smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate that."
"And how's your mom now?"
"Oh, she recovered after a few years, so I did get to have a somewhat normal high school life. But I was already set in my ways by then. She met a much nicer guy and eventually remarried. But I had already gone off to college by the time that happened."
I considered telling her about my career in the Navy right after finishing college – but I decided to save that for another time.
"Well, I'm happy to hear that things worked out in the end," she said.
"I am, too. And what's more, I'm really happy that all the choices I've made have led me right to this moment ... Right here, right now."
I kissed her slowly, deeply, and passionately, and we were both left gasping for breath and buzzing with pleasure at the end of it.
"Yep, I definitely picked the right neighborhood when I decided to move in across the street from you," I remarked with a smile.
"And I'm very, very happy that you did," she said. "Best neighbor I've ever had!" she teased.
"Well, I do go above and beyond when it comes to, how shall I say... neighborly courtesy?"
"Well, in that case, I'm glad the rest of our neighbors are either married or old enough to be your mother," she added with a laugh.
"Speaking of, do you think nosy Mrs. Dobbins knows about you and me?" I asked playfully.
Vivienne laughed. "I'd be very surprised if she didn't. You know, she actually hinted at setting you and me up when she first told me about the 'handsome young man' who had just moved in across the street. I can't help wonder if she was working in a little magic somehow. Look how we've ended up!"
I chuckled. "If she is doing some sort of voodoo over there, let her keep doing it because I'm really enjoying these results."
"She's always been like that, you know," remarked Vivienne. "Well, ever since I've lived there. She's very inquisitive. Always has to have her nose in everyone's business. She watches these streets like a hawk, you know. I guess she doesn't have much in the way of family. Granted, it can be a little invasive sometimes, but really, I feel kinda sorry for her. She's not a bad person by any means; she's actually really nice. I think it's just the fact that she's lonely that drives her to poke around in everyone else's business."
As she said this, a flash of inspiration flickered in my mind.
"Hey... if she really is out there watching everything that happens like a hawk, she may have seen Simon if he's been snooping around your place. I should go and have a few words with her. Do you have any pictures of him I could take and show her?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to let her in on, you know, information about my past relationships and ex-boyfriends and stuff like that..."
"No, no, I don't have to tell her anything like that. I could even say that he's like, a pedophile who was snooping around my school, and just warn her to contact me if she sees him around here."
"Yeah, I guess that could work. I'll find a clear picture of him that you can show her."
She got her phone and started browsing through it.
"Hmm, well this is difficult. He's made all of his social media accounts private. Obviously, I blocked him from all contact a long time ago, including social media, so I'm not sure how to go about finding a picture of him."
"You don't have any friends who are still connected to him?"
"Hmm. Actually, I just reconnected with an old high school friend who I bumped into here in Irvine. She didn't know anything about what happened between Simon and me. Maybe she'll be connected with him on social media."
"It's worth a shot, I guess."
"I'll call her now."
She searched for a contact on her phone and made the call.
"Hi, Angie," she said, and then proceeded to ask her friend if she could help us out. She seemed willing to, saying that she was friends with Simon on Facebook, and a few minutes later, she sent Vivienne a recent picture of him, which she then forwarded to my phone.
Vivienne recoiled at the sight of his face and handed me the phone so that I could take a look. I had to admit that I was curious as to how this guy looked. Usually, we think of psychos and stalkers and other such criminals as being ugly, creepy-looking people. This guy looked nothing like you'd imagine such a person to look. He was pretty good-looking, as much as I hated to admit it. Well-built and broad-shouldered with short, stylishly cut blond hair, a strong, square, cleanly-shaven jaw, and the kind of blue eyes my sister used to say would make a woman swoon. He had that look like he was probably the captain of his high school football team. I didn't like him already.
"This is him?"
"That's him," she said, disgust laced in her words.
"He's, uh, better looking than I expected," I remarked.
"Looks can be deceiving. You haven't seen how ugly he is on the inside."
"Yeah, I know, I've known my share of those types. Well, let me take a shower and get dressed and head on over the road to talk to Mrs. Dobbins. If you want to fix some breakfast in the meantime, I would not be opposed to that," I winked at her.
"I can do that. How does some good old bacon and eggs sound?"
I chuckled.
"A little less healthy than I'm used to, but it's a Sunday, so why not."
"You do have some in your fridge, don't you?" she asked. "Since it's not what you usually eat ..."
"Ah, yeah, I uh, I guess I don't. I do have eggs, though."
"So, omelets then?" she grinned.
"Sure."
"I'll get on that; you get your sexy self in the shower so you can get to the hospital."
A mischievous smile emerged, and I leaned in for a kiss. "It'd be a whole lot more fun if you joined me in the shower," I said with a wink and a grin.
"Well, then we both know how that would go. We'd be in there all morning... and like it or not, we do have stuff we need to do!"
"I know, I know... This real-life thing, huh... What a drag."
"Totally. Jeez Mr. high school principal, you sound a lot like a teenager right now!"
I laughed. "I blame you."
She pushed me away, smiling. "Go. Alright, alright, enough messing around now. I'm gonna go hit the shower."
"See you soon... and there'll be a piping hot breakfast waiting for you."
"Mm, I'm looking forward to that!"
"I bet you are!"
I gave her one last kiss and then headed off to take a shower. When I was done, I went and got dressed, got my phone, and then headed across the street to Mrs. Dobbins' house while Vivienne finished the omelets.
I knocked on the door, and less than two seconds later, she opened it; either she had been expecting me, or she had watched me approaching her house from behind her drapes or something.
"Well, hello there, Mr. James," she said, beaming a great big smile at me. "How are you doing on this fine sunny morning?"
"It certainly is a fine morning, and I'm feeling pretty good, to be honest. How are you, Mrs. Dobbins?"
"Oh, I can't complain. How are you and your daughter settling into your new house over there? Is everything okay?"
"Oh yes, everything is just fine. We're enjoying the place very much."
I didn't want to let her know that Jane was in the hospital right now; I wanted to keep this conversation as short as possible. As nice as Mrs. Dobbins was, I just didn't have time to get into an in-depth conversation with her at the present moment.
"That's good to hear. It's a lovely little house. The previous owners were there for 18 years, you know! It's a shame they're gone, but I'm glad that a fine and upstanding young man like yourself has taken over. Now, what brings you over here, Mr. James?"
"Actually, I wanted to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."
She smiled warmly. "Of course! I'm always happy to chat with my neighbors."
"You might not be so happy when you hear what it is I need to talk about."
She frowned. "Oh no, is there a problem?"
"Kind of, yes. As you know, I'm principal at JFK High."
"Yes, yes. And how do you like your new job?"
"Oh, it's great. Good kids. But, like I said, there's a problem. There's a nasty guy cruising around this neighborhood. He's a pedophile. Preys on kids."
"Oh, my!" she said, shocked. "How awful!"
"Yes. I obviously want to keep him away from my school, but I also don't want him in our neighborhood either. The cops are looking for him, too. But I'm just being extra cautious here and asking everyone in the neighborhood if they've seen this guy around."
Alright, so I was telling a bit of a white lie. Okay, well, two white lies. Simon wasn't a pedophile (as far as I knew, anyway), and I was only actually asking Mrs. Dobbins, not anyone else who lived on this street. However, I don't think it would have turned out too well if I'd said that I was asking her because she had a reputation of being the nosiest person in the neighborhood.
"Do you have a picture of him I could look at?"
"Actually, I do."
I pulled out my phone and opened the picture of Simon that Vivienne had forwarded to me.
"Oh!" she exclaimed.
"You recognize this guy?"
"I do, I do!" she said excitedly. "This guy, he was, strangely enough, he was hanging around Vivienne's house! I thought he was a friend of hers, perhaps. Do you... you don't think that she's mixed up in that disgusting... sex pest business, do you?!"
"Oh no, no, she is definitely not mixed up in anything of the sort. I already asked her about him."
"Ah yes, well I didn't think she would be. She's such a nice girl. You should really try to get to know her a little better," she said with a suggestive smile and a twinkle in her eye.
I had to try to keep a straight face. "Oh uh, I couldn't agree with you more, Mrs. Dobbins."
"You really should. You never know – good things might happen!"
I chuckled. "Oh they might, they sure might. Look, sorry, I just need to ask when exactly it was that you saw this guy hanging around."
"Oh yes, well, he's been around here three times actually. Twice on Friday, and once yesterday."
"And what was he doing?"
"First he drove up and down the street a few times in his car. Real nice car – black, Mercedes, I think. On two occasions he simply parked the car a little up the street and sat watching Vivienne's house, he was there for at least two hours one time, and an hour and a half the other time. The other time he was actually out of the car, and he walked all around her house, having a very good look at it. I called the police department, but they told me if he didn't do anything, he was probably just a friend. What do you think he wants with her? Oh my, do you think that disgusting pervert wants to prey on the poor little children in her daycare?"
"Hopefully he's not thinking of anything that depraved. I don't know what he wants with Vivienne, but I intend to find out. I'll let her know that he's been looking at her place."
"You'd better. I do hope she's safe. I worry about her, you know, a single woman in that house all by herself without a good man to take care of her. You really should go and spend some time with her, I think..."
"I, uh, I'll make an effort to do that. Well, listen, Mrs. Dobbins, it's been great talking with you. I'll chat with you again soon. Enjoy the rest of your Sunday."
"Oh, I will, Mr. James. It was very nice chatting with you. I do hope that we can visit longer next time. Perhaps you'd like to come over for some tea and cake? And bring your lovely little girl; I do enjoy having children around the house every now and then. Reminds me of my own grandchildren, who unfortunately live out east."
"I'll bring her around sometime. Have a good day, Mrs. Dobbins."
"You too, Mr. James."
She closed her door, and I hurried back across the street to my place. I was greeted by the enticing aroma of freshly cooked omelets, but as hungry as I was, I needed to tell Vivienne the news first.
"Omelets are ready, and I hope you're hungry," she said, flashing me one of her gorgeous smiles as I walked in. It was a sight a guy could get used to.
"Great. But before we eat, I have to tell you what happened with Mrs. Dobbins."
"Go ahead then. What did she end up telling you?"
I had taken a deep breath before I spoke, gathering my thoughts. I knew Vivienne wasn't going to like what I was about to say, but it had to be said nonetheless.
"She recognized him alright."
"She did?" Worry laced her words.
"Apparently, he's been staking out your house – three times in the last two days."
The expression on her face instantly changed; the smile she had been wearing before was replaced instead by a look that was part terror, part disgust, and part anger.
"That... that evil, psychotic bastard," she muttered.
"I'm sorry, Viv. But you had to know the truth. And know this too: I will not let this creep harm a single hair on your beautiful head," I said as I stepped closer and placed a hand on each side of her face. "And I will not stop until he's behind bars and out of your life forever. I promise you that."
"Thank you, Everett. I appreciate that; I really do."
I hugged her tightly, but our moment was interrupted when my phone rang. It was the hospital.
"I'd better take this," I said.
"Sure."
"Hello?" I said as I answered the call.
"Hi, Mr. James. We're just calling to inform you about your daughter," the voice on the line said.
"Has her condition changed?" I asked, immediately feeling a shot of worry jolt through me since I’d just talked to one of the nurses on her floor less than 30 minutes prior.
"No, but the doctor came through just now to check her chart and has suggested a specialist from out of town. We’ve already called. She'll be coming to see your daughter later today, and we'd appreciate it if you were here to talk to her."
"I can be there. What kind of specialist and what is the doctor’s name?"
"Her name is Doctor Liza Alvarado."
The name hit me like a heavyweight boxer's uppercut, and I almost dropped the phone in shock and didn’t even hear what she specialized in.
"Dr.... Liza Alvarado?"
"Yes. She'll be here at two o'clock, so please ensure you're here by then."
"Uh... okay. Thanks."
I cut off the call, reeling with shock.
"Is something wrong?" asked Vivienne.
"Um, no. They're, uh, they're calling in a specialist to see Jane this afternoon, and I need to be there."
"Oh. What kind of specialist? I heard you say a name there."
"Oh, uh, I don't know. Someone from out of town."
And for the third time today, I was telling a lie. I did know Liza. I knew her very well, in fact – she had been my first love, the woman I had loved with all my heart – and the woman who had torn my heart to pieces.