Chapter Two

“JULIE,” TERRY said, trying to get her attention away from the television news. They had already watched the story about what had happened at the pool four times, and there was nothing new. They were saying it was an accident and the child involved had been released from the hospital. That was a relief after a sucky day that had run late because of the paperwork they’d had to complete in addition to talking to the police. Terry turned toward her on the bar stool. “Are you going to watch that all night?”

“Geez, who pissed in your Cheerios?” Julie asked as she turned toward him. “When you asked me for a drink, I didn’t think you were going to be such a pain in the ass.”

“They aren’t saying anything new,” he told her.

“I know. But when was the last time you were involved in a news story?” She turned back to the television, but they had changed to the weather, so she lifted her beer glass and looked at him again. “So, what did you want?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Terry replied. He finished his beer and ordered another. The server hurried behind the bar. She brought him another wheat beer, and he smiled his most winning smile at her. It didn’t matter if he was actually interested in her, which he wasn’t. He’d long ago figured out that a winning smile could get him what he wanted and put him at the front of the line, so he used it.

A roar of laughter came up from the large table behind them, and Terry turned to see what was happening. It was just a bunch of guys. He recognized one of them as one of the paramedics from that afternoon. He watched them for a few minutes and then turned back to Julie.

“Hey, Red,” he heard one of the men call. For some reason Terry turned to see who it was and then quickly looked away. It was the huge police officer who’d been at the pool. Terry turned back to the bar.

“It’s that policeman from the pool,” Julie said from next to him. “The one with the scar.”

“Yeah, I saw him.” Terry took another gulp from his glass. He’d noticed the guy as soon as he’d entered the pool area. Who wouldn’t? The guy was huge. When Terry had first seen him, his mouth had begun to water. He was just his type: tall, broad, built, filling out that uniform in all the right places. A dreamboat… that is, until he’d gotten a look at the poor guy’s face. To say he was ugly wasn’t right either… more like unfortunate. As his dad had said as a joke once, “He had a face only a mother could love.”

“I wonder what happened to him,” Julie said and looked at Terry when he huffed a little. “He seemed like a good enough guy. That woman was all over you, but he listened and got down to the truth. There were no accusations, and he was nice enough, for a cop with a job to do.” Her eyes widened. “Something did happen to him. He wasn’t born with that scar, and maybe he was poor and didn’t have the money for braces and the things we did.”

Terry turned back around. “I guess so.” He swallowed really hard and continued watching the man, trying not to look like he was watching him. Once, when he looked up, Terry caught his gaze. He knew instantly that the man recognized him, and Terry turned back around.

“You guess so?” Julie said and then chuckled.

“I just agreed with you,” he told her, and their conversation stopped when the news came on one of the channels again, and Julie’s attention was diverted.

There were mirrors behind the bar, mostly ones advertising various kinds of beer. He could see the police officer in one of them. The guys he was with were loud, laughing a lot, and a few times Terry caught a glimpse of a smile from the officer. It made Terry want to smile too. He turned back around and scanned the room.

To say the place was dated was an understatement; there were hints of every decade since the building had been built in the twenties. The place must have first been turned into a restaurant in the sixties. The old wood paneling on the walls, painted now, was a bit of a giveaway, as well as the old drop ceiling that had been painted as well, probably in an attempt at updating. The bar itself was wood and quite nice. Terry figured it must have been brought in and installed at some point, like everything else. There was no real rhyme or reason to the place—it looked like things had just been brought in and added as they were needed or wanted. Like the gas fireplace unit installed along one wall. It wasn’t that old, but someone had decided the dining room needed homey warmth, so in came the fireplace. Terry paused on that fireplace and then moved on. His gaze fell on the policeman again. This time he wasn’t looking back, but listening to one of his buddies, a little smile on his relaxed face.

“Terry,” Julie said from next to him, and he turned back around. “Are you watching that guy?”

He ignored her, taking a sip of his beer, and then turned to her. “Do you think I’m shallow?”

“That’s a loaded question if I ever heard one.” She sighed and rested an elbow on the bar after looking at him. “If you want my honest opinion, I’d say you’re self-absorbed as opposed to outright shallow, but most people equate the two pretty closely, so, yeah, you’re a little shallow.” She bumped his shoulder. “Hey, you did ask.”

Terry swallowed and met her gaze. “I suppose if I didn’t want to hear what you thought, I shouldn’t have asked.” That was so not the answer he had wanted to hear. He’d asked because he had overheard what the paramedic had said at the pool, and Julie was supposed to tell him they were full of shit, not agree with them.

“Damn right,” she said, and Terry rolled his eyes. “You have to admit that you put a lot of importance on how people look, and that didn’t turn out so well with—”

“Don’t even say his name,” Terry growled just loud enough for her to hear.

“Fine,” she snapped slightly. “But you know I’m right. You have the perfect swimmer’s body and the perfect tan all the time, even in the winter.”

“I like to look good.”

“No, you sometimes obsess over how you look, and when you met… you know who….” She rolled her puppy brown eyes again. He knew mentioning his name wasn’t going to make him magically appear, but just thinking about his ex sent a cold shiver up his spine, and instantly he felt momentarily isolated in a room full of people. “You latched on to him like crazy, but look where that got you.”

“Okay, okay….”

“No. You’re going to hear this. I know you’re really cute and hot and all. You’ve got the whole handsome-swimmer thing going and the job that goes with it, but, Terry, we’re here talking about whether or not you’re shallow, and a kid nearly died at the pool today on our watch. I kind of think that’s the definition of shallow.” Her eyebrows cocked upward, and Terry looked away.

“Dammit,” he said half under his breath, looking up as the server placed their food on the bar in front of them. “Thank you,” he said with a smile and received one in return.

Julie took the first bite of her salad and swallowed. “So I guess the question is, if you don’t want to be shallow, what are you going to do about it?”

“Do?” Terry asked.

“Yeah. Do.” She glanced over at him with one of those fiery looks that if he were straight would have had him instantly hard and aching to take the tiger to bed. Instead, when he got one of those looks from her, he knew he was in deep shit.

“Can’t we talk about this a little?”

“You want to talk? Okay. Kid nearly drowns, we save him and get him out of the pool. It’s made all the news reports that we saved his life, which should make both of us happy. We did what we’re good at, and it made a difference. It wasn’t our fault that he fell in and got hurt, regardless of what his mother said. However, instead of talking about that and trying to figure out how we’re not going to let it happen again, you’re having a crisis of identity because some people you don’t know said you were shallow.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I think the time for talk is long past. Honey, face it—you’re shallow, okay? And vain, let’s not forget vain. But you’re really nice to look at, so I’ll give you that, because there are times at that pool when we see things no one should have to see.” They both shuddered.

“Mr. Howard last week,” Terry prompted, and Julie shook her head. One of their older patrons had gotten a little confused and wandered out of the locker room stark-naked during the open swim hour. Now that was a sight neither of them ever needed again.

“Yes, well….” Julie took another bite. “Dang it, you almost got me off-track. Look, the thing is, if you want to make a change in your life, you need to take action, not talk. So what do you want to do about it?”

“You mean, like, date someone I find unattractive?”

Julie shook her head. “See? You are shallow. You men are all about looks. Straight guys look at me and see boobs and a body, nothing more. Women are more emotional. So for starters, no more hookups.”

“I haven’t done that since… you know who,” Terry admitted to his food.

Julie bumped his shoulder. “See? You’re growing already. But that’s only temporary, and you know it. You’ll be back to your old ways in no time. So when you’re ready to rejoin the gay race, no sex until you get to know the man first, because you aren’t going to meet a nice guy on your back.”

“And what else, oh wise one?” Terry couldn’t resist. “Since you know exactly what I want.”

Julie set down her fork. “I do. I see you looking at that couple who come in to swim every day. They’ve been together for, like, twenty years, and you watch them like hawks.”

“They look good,” Terry protested, but it rang hollow.

“You can say what you want, but I see the envy in your baby blues, and the longing. You want what they have. And get that look off your face right now. You can play the ‘I don’t care’ card all you want or the ‘I tried a relationship and it didn’t work’ card, but I know you, and I see how you look at them. So Julie’s antishallow rule number one is you don’t sleep with guys you haven’t gotten to know. Second is that you have to read something that will broaden your mind. It doesn’t have to be Tolstoy, but it should engage your brain.”

“Hey, I read,” Terry protested.

“Comic books do not count. My rules—I get to judge.” She was liking this way too much. “Third, you have to give back. The first two you need to do for yourself, but the third one I can help with.”

“Oh no,” Terry said, nearly falling off the stool. “I don’t do old people.”

“Well, you do now. After work, I’ll take you over and introduce you. We need people to deliver the meals. I know you can do that.” She fixed him with a steely stare, and Terry could feel himself caving. “You were the one who asked, so are you going to do something about it or not? You might like it. You talk to people, and that’s what most of them need. You deliver the food and talk to them a few minutes to make sure they’re all right.” Julie didn’t look away. “For some of these people, you may be the only human being they see all day.”

Dang it, Terry could feel his arguments falling all around him. “Fine. I’ll give it a shot. But if I hate it….”

Julie flashed him a grin. “I’m more worried about the fact that you might never get anything delivered because you’ll spend all your time talking.”

“Okay, if you have all these rules and you’re so well-rounded, how come you don’t have a boyfriend?” He returned to his food.

“I never said I was well-rounded. I just haven’t met a nice guy yet. Besides, these rules are for you. Not me.” Terry opened his mouth to protest, but she tutted. “Honey, I’m not shallow.” She lasted three seconds and then burst out laughing. Terry joined her. She was just as bad as he was, and she knew it. “Actually, there is a guy I’ve dated twice, and he’s really nice, and I like him.”

“Why haven’t I met him? Is he hideous or something?” Terry had to tease her; it was part of their thing.

“No. He’s quiet and really smart. Too smart for me.” She bit her lower lip. “He’s just been hired at Dickinson as a professor, and he’s so whip-smart it scares the crap out of me.” Terry rarely saw her frazzled, but she was now. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“Hey, you are,” Terry said right away. “You’re good enough for anyone. This guy would be lucky to have you in his life.” He reached over and slid his arm around her shoulder to give her a one-arm hug. “And you know it.”

Laughter filled the restaurant from the table behind them, and Terry had to turn to see what was going on. The police officer was telling a story. He was animated as hell, and for a few seconds, Terry wondered what he was saying. Whatever it was, it made his face light up and his eyes sparkle. “You can’t stop watching him, can you?”

“Shut up,” Terry said lightly and turned back around. “I was just seeing what all the laughter was about.” He went back to his food and concentrated on it. He didn’t know why he was so interested in the guy or what was so fascinating about him, but he found himself watching him every now and then in one of the mirrors.

THE NEXT day at work was quiet, thank God. There were no incidents, and Terry’s boss, Mr. Hilliard, called him in at the end of his shift to tell him that the kid was truly okay and that he and Julie had saved his life. “These things are tragic, but you’re here to try to prevent them and take action when they do.”

“Thank you,” Terry said, but he still felt guilty.

“We’ll be writing up new pool behavior guidelines and sending them out to each member with the newsletter,” he added, and Terry nodded. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he reiterated.

“Thank you. I’m glad he’s okay.”

“We all are. But quick action saves lives, and that’s exactly what you and Julie did.” Mr. Hilliard smiled at him, and Terry left his office. He felt a little better as he headed for the locker room. He changed out of his pool gear and into his street clothes. Then he grabbed his bag and walked through the building to the lobby, where Julie was waiting to take him to his first volunteer meal-delivery run. Terry was a little nervous, and Julie seemed a little too pleased with herself.

“What has you so happy?” he asked.

“Cotton asked me out for Saturday night. He said he wanted to take me someplace special, so he asked me to dress up.” Julie beamed at him as he pulled open the door for her. She was walking on air, and it was nice to see. “You can follow me. We’re heading just up West Street for about eight blocks.” Julie peeled off to her car, and Terry got in his Mustang. He loved his car, even though it was a daily reminder of…. He refused to think of him. More than once he’d thought about selling the car or seeing if he could just trade it in for a different one, but he really couldn’t afford it, and he loved the car. It was midnight blue with a gray interior and had everything he could ever want. He started the engine and followed Julie out of the parking lot, then turned right and headed through town.

Five minutes later they pulled to a stop across the street from a building that looked like it had once been a large garage.

“Lavelle runs this place, and she always needs help,” Julie said. “This used to be her garage, but she had it converted and got special-use permission from the borough. She’s a really wonderful person and spends all her energy helping others.” There was a warning in Julie’s tone, but Terry didn’t quite know why. Julie led him inside, and he was nearly bowled over by all the activity.

The garage had been turned into a professional-grade kitchen. Ladies worked at tables putting meals in Styrofoam containers, labeling them, and then placing them in bags.

“Julie,” a middle-aged black woman called as she hurried over. “You’re such a sweetheart for bringing us some help.” She turned to Terry.

“Lavelle, this is Terry. He and I work together, and he’s agreed to help us.”

Terry extended his hand, and Lavelle shook it. “I appreciate this so much. One of our delivery ladies fell last week and broke her hip. She’s home from the hospital, and now we’re delivering meals to her.” She motioned around. “There are lots of folks—mainly elderly, but others as well—who are still in their homes, and life is just hard for them. Most have little or no family. They sign up, we cook three meals a week for them, and someone delivers it. But it’s not just about the food. It’s about someone stopping by their house to make sure they’re okay.” Lavelle was already guiding him inside. “We had one driver who helped a lady find her cat.”

Terry swallowed hard.

“All you need to do is say hello and explain who you are, go inside, and spend a few minutes with them. They love the company.” Lavelle moved a little closer. “Do you have a cell phone?”

Terry nodded.

“Always have it with you. If someone is in distress in any way, call 911. Or call me, and I’ll do it for you.” She sounded dead serious, and Terry wondered what kinds of things her delivery people had seen. He didn’t ask, simply nodded, then traded phone numbers with Lavelle.

“Do you do this for free?” Terry asked.

“All these people are volunteers. The people who sign up pay if they can, but we turn away no one. Food is too basic to deny anyone.” Lavelle looked at Julie, who nodded seriously, and Terry wondered if there was a story his best friend had never told him. Damn, maybe he was that self-centered. “Now, we have the meals ready to go with the name on each one. Here’s the list of deliveries. They’re all in the same area of town, so you aren’t running all over the place. What we try to do is have the same driver deliver to the same people—that way they get to know you.”

“Okay,” Terry agreed. So much for this being a one-shot deal. He looked over at Julie, who was already getting her meals and taking them to her car.

“You need to get going, honey. The food will stay hot in the insulated bags, but time is important.” She must have seen the doubt in his expression. “There are people out there who have almost nothing, and you are about to brighten their day in ways you can’t imagine. Trust me.” Lavelle led him to a stainless steel table. “Here you are.” She handed him a sheet and a page of information. “Call if you have questions, and don’t be shy. Talk to folks.”

“He’s good at that,” Julie chimed in, and Lavelle grinned.

“Excellent. This is one task where the gift of gab is a blessing.” Terry liked Lavelle already. “Now let’s get going.”

Terry loaded the food and took the instructions and information sheet with him. He got in the car and drove to the northeast section of town. He easily found his first three deliveries and was welcomed into all three homes with smiles. They were ladies—his mother had always told him to refer to women of a certain age as ladies, and these people had all reached that age a while ago. Anyway, all three ladies were pleased to see him and offered him a chair. Terry found himself asking where the plates were, and he got each of them settled at the table, or in front of the television, as the case may be, before saying good-bye. At the fourth house, he bribed the skinny-as-a-rail lady into eating by agreeing to try to find her cat. It was in the laundry room, and as soon as he opened the door it hurried out and attacked its food dish. He didn’t know how long the poor thing had been in there, but he made a note to look for the cat the next time he returned. The next stops went well. The four ladies and one man knew the drill and seemed happy to see him. They all asked about Gladys. He figured she was the lady who’d broken her hip and told them all that she was now back at home.

After about an hour, Terry pulled up at the last house. He was tired and a little excited but felt really good. All the people had been so nice and unbelievably grateful to him. Most were older, some using walkers, others shuffling along. Two gave him hugs as he went to leave, and one offered to share what Terry had brought with him. They all had something in common—they seemed lonely and caring. It touched Terry’s heart in a way he didn’t think he was capable of. Not after…. He shuddered at how his asshole ex kept coming back to him. It had been months, but he couldn’t get him out of his head. He’d been a normal functioning human being once, and he would be again if it killed him.

Terry found a place to park, took the last meal out, and walked back along North Street to a small, plain row house. There were a lot of these in town, and he’d already delivered to four of its near exact duplicates today. He rang the bell and waited. Heavy steps sounded on the other side of the door, and Terry’s heart pounded. The footsteps sounded so fucking familiar. Heavy booted steps had come to represent pain and degradation at the hand of someone he’d loved. Terry swallowed and forced himself not to run. The door opened, and he nearly dropped the container.