Thirty-Four
Anne Marie Roche
Ellen’s cast had been on for nearly a week and Tim had come by every afternoon to check on her. Vanessa hadn’t accompanied him even once, which was just as well, considering the scene at the hospital. Anne Marie avoided mentioning the other woman’s name and so did Tim.
Ellen’s arm had stopped hurting and she thrived on the extra attention. Anne Marie had to ask Tim to stop bringing gifts. Ellen had so many stuffed animals now, there was no space in her bedroom for more.
“What time will my dad be here?” Ellen asked, bounding down the stairs with Baxter at her heels. She swung the leash in one hand.
“Soon.”
“Does he know you have a hot date?”
The urge to roll her eyes was nearly overwhelming. Barbie and Mark had arranged for her to meet a friend of Mark’s; Barbie had made the mistake of referring to the evening as a “hot date” in Ellen’s presence. Ellen, of course, had picked up on the term and used it ever since.
“I didn’t tell him where I was going, no,” Anne Marie said. When she’d told him she had an appointment Friday evening, Tim had quickly offered to stay with Ellen. Foolishly, perhaps, Anne Marie had accepted. Her mother would gladly have had Ellen over for the night, but that would’ve entailed driving. It was simpler this way.
Tim genuinely loved Ellen. If Anne Marie had ever doubted that, he’d proved his feelings for the child the day Ellen broke her arm. He’d been as pale as a bleached sheet when he realized what had happened and he’d blamed himself. He’d been vigilant, almost excessively so, ever since.
“Can I tell him?” Ellen asked.
“Ah...” Anne Marie hesitated, preferring he not be told where she was going. It wasn’t any of his business.
“Tell who what?” Barbie asked as she stepped into the bookstore. Mark followed in his wheelchair.
“My dad,” Ellen said.
“Tim’s staying with Ellen while I’m out this evening,” Anne Marie explained.
“On a hot date,” her daughter added with emphasis on the hot. She attached the leash to Baxter’s collar and after hugging both Barbie and Mark, shot out the door, taking Baxter for his afternoon stroll down Blossom Street.
“Hot date, huh?” Mark said once Ellen was halfway down the block.
Anne Marie pretended to be upset with him. “That’s what she calls it, thanks to you two.”
“Just wait till you meet Mel,” Barbie said with a wink. “He’s wonderful—smart, funny and sexy as hell.”
Mark glared up at Barbie. “He’s not that sexy.”
Barbie’s smile lit up her eyes. “Mark, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
“Should I be?”
At that Barbie laughed outright. “You tell me.”
They gazed at each other, exchanging some private message, and slowly a grin slid into place. “Maybe not,” he murmured in a low, husky voice.
Barbie bent and kissed his cheek. “I don’t have any reason for complaint, sir—and I don’t think you do, either.”
Now it was Mark who winked. “Your point is well taken, madam.”
Anne Marie laughed. She loved the banter between these two. Barbie and Mark somehow brought out the best in each other. According to what she’d heard, he’d been surly and downright rude when he and Barbie originally met—at the movies, of all places. The first time Anne Marie had met him was in a fast-food restaurant and it was plain, at least to her, that Mark was in love with Barbie. She suspected he’d fought the attraction as long as he could, then simply surrendered to the sheer force of Barbie’s personality.
“We’ve come to give you a few tips,” Barbie announced.
Mark, however, seemed more interested in studying a selection of mysteries, which were displayed on a table close to the front of the store.
“What kind of tips?” Anne Marie asked.
“Dating tips, of course!”
Mark set aside Sue Grafton’s T is for Trespass and glanced up. “This is all Barbie’s idea.”
Fortunately the bookstore was empty. Anne Marie would hate having customers privy to this conversation.
“It’s been a while since you dated, hasn’t it?”
Her last supposed date had been with Tim, when he’d dropped the bombshell about Vanessa. The memory of their evening together still embarrassed her.
In retrospect, she should’ve noticed the signs; she’d made the mistake of assuming Tim was interested in her just because she was enthralled with him. To her, it’d been like linking two pieces of puzzle and finding they fit perfectly. No, not two pieces, three. Tim and Ellen and her...the fantasy of a family.
“It has been a while,” Anne Marie agreed.
“The rules have changed,” Barbie said with authority.
Anne Marie turned to Mark for guidance. He, however, was back to exploring the mystery and thriller titles. He held Brad Meltzer’s latest and was studying the cover. Seeing that he wasn’t going to be any help, she sighed. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Forget what those dating books tell you. Just be yourself,” Barbie advised.
“I know Mel’s a widower, but does he have children?” That was a subject she felt she could discuss. Knowing they shared common ground would be a great starting point.
“They’re grown and married.”
“How old is this guy, anyway?”
“Age is a matter of attitude,” Barbie insisted.
Anne Marie groaned. “Oh, come on, Barbie.”
Barbie relented. “He’s not that old. In his fifties.”
Robert’s age, Anne Marie mused. Her husband had died of a heart attack far too young; he’d been in his fifties, too. Even now, it was hard to believe he was dead.
Out of the corner of her eye Anne Marie saw that Louis, her new part-time employee, had come in. He was a student at UW and worked evenings.
“I’m sure Mel and I won’t have a problem finding things to talk about,” Anne Marie told her friend. He’d lost his wife a year ago and Robert had been gone more than two.
“I’m sure you won’t,” Barbie said, taking a Vogue magazine from the rack and leafing through it.
“Listen, I wish I could chat longer, but I need to go and change.”
“Wear something bright and cheerful,” Barbie told her.
“Okay.” Anne Marie didn’t bother to say she’d already planned to.
“You’re meeting at the restaurant, correct?”
“Correct,” Anne Marie confirmed. She wanted it that way, despite Barbie and Mark’s assurances that Mel would be happy to pick her up.
She hugged Barbie and pecked Mark on the cheek, then headed upstairs to change clothes for her “hot date.”
By the time she’d finished, Ellen and Baxter had returned. Ellen stared at her. “You look really pretty.”
That comment pleased Anne Marie, and she glanced at the hallway mirror. She wanted to make a positive first impression and had chosen her outfit carefully. She wore white linen pants with a pale yellow shell under a white blazer. Even to her own critical eye, she looked good.
She’d taken as long to decide on the jewelry—an antique cameo on a gold chain—as the clothes themselves. She’d had her hair done earlier in the day; she’d needed a haircut, anyway, so she’d timed it to coincide with her date.
A knock at the back door told her Tim had arrived. Ellen let him in. “What did you bring me, what did you bring me?” she asked, jumping up and down.
This was exactly the behavior Anne Marie wanted to put a stop to. Ellen had become a little too accustomed to his frequent gifts.
“Dinner.” Tim set a white bag on the kitchen table. He did a double-take when he saw Anne Marie. “You look fabulous. What’s the occasion?”
“Thanks.” She ignored the question and drank in the appreciation shining in his eyes.
Ellen gladly supplied the news. “Mom’s got a hot date.”
Tim’s smile faded. “You’re going out? I thought you had an appointment.”
“I do. It’s an appointment for dinner.” She didn’t feel it was necessary to explain any more than she already had. Tim didn’t keep her updated on his relationship with Vanessa.
“I see,” he murmured, but he didn’t ask any further questions.
“I won’t be late... I don’t think,” she said as she retrieved her purse and her car keys.
“Ten?”
“Maybe, but to be on the safe side let’s say eleven. If I’m going to be any later, I’ll phone.” She probably would anyway, just to check up on Ellen, whose arm still hurt at night.
“Take as long as you want,” Tim said.
“You don’t need to be home at any particular time?”
Tim shook his head. “None.” He opened the door. “Have a nice evening.” His gaze held hers and his words seemed sincere.
“Thank you.” Anne Marie kissed Ellen, gave her final instructions, then left the apartment.
Mel turned out to be everything Barbie and Mark had promised. To begin with, he was distinguished-looking, dressed in a classy suit and tie, and sexy in that Sean Connery way she found so attractive. Like Mark, he was an architect. Their dinner conversation didn’t lag even once; they discovered in short order that they shared the same political views, enjoyed many of the same movies and authors, and were both Placido Domingo fans. The evening passed so quickly that Anne Marie was startled to see it was after ten.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said as she reached for her purse. “I need to check on my daughter.” She paused, not wanting to appear rude.
Mel gestured with his hand. “Go ahead, by all means.”
Tim answered on the second ring and immediately reassured Anne Marie. “Everything went great. Ellen’s been asleep for over an hour.”
“Did she say her prayers?”
Tim chuckled. “Oh, yes. Does it generally go on as long as it did this evening?”
“Five minutes?” The child took her prayers seriously.
“Longer.”
“I figured as much.” No doubt Ellen had been hoping to impress her father.
“She prayed for you,” Tim informed her. “She seems to think you’re going to marry your, uh, hot date.”
“That’s interesting. And how did she feel about it?”
“She seemed okay with it.”
Anne Marie smiled across the table at Mel.
“When do you think you’ll be back?” Tim was asking.
“In about half an hour.” She didn’t want to continue a conversation with Tim while she was with her date, so she ended the call. “See you then.” She dropped the cell back in her bag.
They finished the last of their coffee, and then Anne Marie regretfully said she’d have to go. Mel walked her to her car, one hand lightly clasping her elbow. It was a gesture both protective and respectful, and it reminded her suddenly of Robert.
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she said. “I really enjoyed meeting you.”
“Would it be possible to see you again?” Mel asked.
“I’d like that.”
He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I haven’t dated since Laura died, and...well, meeting you has been a very pleasant surprise.”
It had been for Anne Marie, as well.
As she drove home, a relaxed, comfortable feeling stole over her. She’d agreed to this date because of Tim. Her attraction to him had shown her that she’d healed enough to enter into a new relationship. It’d led to an embarrassing situation but she’d recovered from that. One thing was certain: She wasn’t going to make any assumptions about Mel. Like her, he still carried the pain of having lost a spouse. That loss would never entirely leave either of them.
Tim was flipping through a copy of The New Yorker when she walked into the apartment. As soon as he saw her, he threw down the magazine.
“Well,” he said, standing, “how did it go?”
“Fine,” she told him, then amended her statement. “Actually, it went really well. I like Mel.”
Tim nodded, sliding his hands into his back jean pockets.
“Thank you for staying with Ellen. My mother said she’d watch her, but I hated to drag Ellen over there. She still wakes up once or twice a night because her arm aches.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, but he seemed reluctant to leave.
“Anything I can get you?” she asked, taking off her linen jacket.
“A cup of coffee?”
“Sure.” She moved into the kitchen and brewed a small pot, filling two cups. “How do you take it?”
“Black.” She recalled that but didn’t want to seem presumptuous—or interested enough to notice.
Tim was already sitting at the kitchen table, his elbows propped on a place mat. Anne Marie handed him the coffee, then sat across from him, waiting for him to speak.
Eventually he did. “I thought you should know I’m no longer seeing Vanessa.”
“I’m...sorry to hear that.”
“She recently had a second slip. She got drunk.”
Anne Marie nodded; she remembered he’d mentioned the first time this had happened.
“Once I could forgive, but when I found out she’d been drinking again, I told her it was over. I can’t expose Ellen to that, and Vanessa’s behavior the afternoon Ellen broke her arm was inexcusable.”
“I’m sorry if I played a role in this,” Anne Marie felt obliged to say.
Tim ignored that. “Vanessa has to accept responsibility for her own actions, the same way we all do.”
Anne Marie reached across the table and touched his arm. “I know this must be hard on you.”
He gave her a sad smile. “I’d planned to tell you this earlier in the evening, about Vanessa and me.” He hesitated.
“Yes?” Clearly there was more.
“And suggest the two of us start dating,” he said. “I never did have a good sense of timing,” he added with a rueful laugh.
He couldn’t have shocked her more. “The two of...us?” She’d put the matter so completely out of her mind, she hardly knew how to react.
“Would you consider it?” he asked.
“I...yes, I’ll think about it,” she said, still in a daze.
Tim took a single sip of his coffee, then got to his feet.
Anne Marie walked him to the door.
As they reached it, he turned back. “Maybe this will help,” he said and before she realized what he was going to do, he pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was tender and persuasive, so persuasive that her knees felt as if they might buckle.
“Good night, Anne Marie,” he whispered in a voice that didn’t sound like his.
He left, and Anne Marie leaned against the door, eyes wide with shock...and pleasure. This was a most unexpected turn of events.