Calculated Risk (18 page)

Emotions threatened to strangle her,
but Stevie knew what she had to do and had to say. While the
strength of her convictions was absolute, she also knew she didn’t
possess the courage for a face-to-face confrontation. “Quintin, I
love you very much. Nothing and no one else will ever change
that.”

“All I’m hearing is the word but. Damn
it, Stevie, I want to see you, hold you, love you.”

“No!” The word was torn from her heart.
“Listen to me, please. I’ve done a lot of thinking about you and me
and Rob. Your son is so important to both of us, too precious to
hurt in any way.” A strange chill enveloped her, making her body
quake inside the fur coat.

“What…what are you trying to say?” The
ache in Quintin’s voice echoed her own.

“I am worried about what might happen
to Rob, what he might do, if he ever finds out about us. He’s at
such a fragile stage in his life right now. His self-esteem and
emotional health are too vital and crucial to be damaged in any
way.”

Bleak eyes stared at the vase of roses;
the ruby blossoms had already begun to darken, their regal heads
wilting. “I don’t think we should see each other again.” Stevie
stumbled into her desk chair. Actually saying those words out loud
struck a blow that left her crippled.

“Dear God, you can’t mean
that.”

“Please, this is so hard for me.” Tears
were flowing freely down her cheeks. “I’m very afraid of what Rob
might do. He’s young and impressionable and…and everything is so…so
life-and-death for him.” Stevie wiped her face on the back of her
hands. “I’ve made sure that I kept out of his way this week, and
I’ve decided to stay in California for a while.” She swallowed
hard. “If I’m not around, if Rob can’t see me, then maybe all this
will pass.”

“Let me see you,” Quintin begged.
“Stevie I need to see you. I need to –“

“No!” Her voice grew stronger. “No, I
really feel this is the best for both of us.” Every part of her
screamed a denial. She wanted nothing more than to see Quintin
again, hold him, touch him just one last time, but she realized the
pain would be too great.

“This is crazy. I’m coming to your
office.”

“I won’t be here and I’m not going home
or to the hotel either.”

“Damn it, Stevie, you’re ruining our
lives. You’re –“

“I’m trying to save your son’s,” she
cried. “And … and my own sanity. I hate the way we’ve had to keep
this secret. Always looking over our shoulders, wondering if one of
Rob’s friends will see us. Our love is too beautiful to be sullied
any longer by stolen kisses, stolen hours, stolen moments. I want a
fun, complete life with you, Quint. I’m proud of you, I’m proud of
us. I may be terribly old-fashioned, but I want a wedding ring and
to live happily ever after and…and I want your babies.”

“Don’t you think I want all those
things too?” The anguish evident in his voice only made Stevie cry
harder.

She took a deep breath. “Right now our
wants and needs are not as important as your son’s. Rob is all that
matters.” Her tone was soft. “Think of all the years you’ve already
lost with him, Quintin; look how fast he’s growing. We can’t take
the chance of losing him now.

“Rob thinks he’s in love with me, and
we both know how powerful an emotion love is. What if he discovered
that the woman he loves is having an affair with his own father?
What do you think that will do to Rob?”

“Don’t you dare call what we
have an
affair
,”
Quintin rallied hoarsely.

“It’s not to us,” Stevie returned
quickly, “but it will look like that to Rob. He’ll be angry and
hurting and he’ll want to strike back – get even – and you’ll be
his target, Quint. This could kill the both of you.”

“Stevie, I cannot lose you.”

Her hand tightened on the receiver.
“You’ll never lose me, Quintin,” came her whispered vow. “You’ll
never lose my love. Right now, right this instant, what we have
together will only cause pain and suffering. Love shouldn’t do
that.”

“I love you, Stephanie
Brandt.”

“And I love you, Quintin Ward.” Unable
to listen to his voice any longer, Stevie slid the receiver back on
the phone. She rested her head on the desk as her body was racked
with uncontrollable sobs.

The telltale buzzing that signified a
dead line finally made an impression on Quintin’s brain. A shaking
hand hung up the receiver and then moved wearily over his face,
fingers mopping the tears that streaked his cheeks. All that
Quintin had feared for his son – anguish, heartache and pain – was
now his. His head told him that Stevie was right: Rob must be his
primary focus, and he had to be there for his son. But it was his
heart that was bleeding, and the only person who had the power to
repair it had just walked out of his life.

“Gloria, how are you
feeling?”

“Almost perfect, boss, that new flu
inhaler really works fast.” There was a moment’s hesitation on the
line. “You don’t sound so good, Stevie. Is it the flu?”

Stevie tried to cover the thickness in
her voice. “You guessed it,” came her lie. “That, and it’s been a
very long week.” A shrill laugh escaped her. “Wait until you see
the office. The temp I got just wasn’t up to handling the lunacy
that pervades around here.”

“Hmmm…sounds like I have my work cut
out for me on Monday,” Gloria responded. “Are you all set for your
trip? Or are you going to cancel?”

“That’s one reason I called,” Stevie
tried to sound casual. “I’m going to stay in LA for a while. I’ll
let you know where later, but I don’t want you to give out that
information. Not to anyone.”

Gloria cleared her throat. “Not even
Papa Ward?”

“Not even Quintin.”

“Things are that bad? I thought for
sure your not seeing Bobby would solve the problem.”

“So did I. But yesterday, I found a
bouquet of red roses on my desk and Quint said Rob’s all excited
about getting his class ring and –“

“Oh, God, Stevie, do you want to come
to my place? We can talk, have a cup of tea –“

She sniffed. “I don’t think tea and
sympathy are going to do any good. No, Gloria, Quint and I are just
going to have to let each other go.”

“I am so sorry.”

Stevie’s voice was desolate. “Sorrow is
the word. I’ll be in touch.” She caught site of her image in the
mirror over her mother’s bedroom dresser. Her reflection made her
flinch. The past few days had taken their toll. Her face looked
haggard, her hair was dull and lifeless and her eyes were sunk into
shadowed hollows.

She had consumed a year’s supply of
aspirin trying to ease a perpetual headache, and her stomach was so
knotted that it refused any type of food, allowing only tea and
water. While her outer self-echoed her inner torment, Stevie
embraced the knowledge that ultimately she had spared Quintin’s son
this same hurt.

Chapter 10

“Good morning, Dad. Was that you
prowling around the house again last night?”

Quintin carried his coffee cup to the
table. “Sorry, son.” He gave Rob a half-hearted smile. “I didn’t
mean to keep you awake.”

Robbie poured his third bowl of
high-protein cereal, dribbled honey over the multigrain nuggets and
added as splash of milk. “Is there trouble at work?”

“No.”

“Maybe you’re getting the flu,” came
Rob’s prediction.

“Yeah, maybe I am.” Quintin’s fingers
tried to massage the pinching tightness from his
temples.

“Well, you’re in good company,” Rob
continued, tapping the Saturday morning paper. “The virus made the
front page and national headlines. Half the city is down along with
eighty percent of the school.”

Quintin stirred sugar and cream into
his coffee. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. It’s all the vitamins, Dad.”
Rob nodded toward the collection of bottles that dominated the top
of the refrigerator. “You should really try them. It’s the natural
way to keep your body and your mind healthy.”

Stevie does that for me, or
did
. He sighed again. “Anything new at
school? We haven’t had much of a chance to talk this past
week.”

“I know how busy you are, Dad, I
respect your dedication.” His jaw moved steadily, molars
pulverizing the cereal. “Everything’s first-rate. I’m really into
cameras. Tommie’s three-D is incredible. The two of us have joined
the photo club and we’re learning how to develop our own stuff, use
lights and shadows. Would you mind if I borrowed your thirty-five
millimeter?”

“No…no..go ahead. It’s in the closet in
my den.”

Robbie took a mouthful of orange juice.
“Say, Dad –“ he swallowed hard, hesitating slightly “—there’s no
school next Friday. Do you think I could have a party? Invite some
of the guys and their dates over. I’d help Mrs. Crawford with the
eats and the cleanup.”

The coffee hit the back of Quintin’s
throat and made him gag. “A party? Well…huh…I suppose so.
Huh..who’d be your date?” He almost dreaded to ask the question for
fear of hearing Stevie’s name.

“Tommie.”

Quintin’s jaw dropped. Had his son gone
to another extreme? “Huh…Rob –“ a shaky laugh escaped him “—a
Tommie is not what I had in mind for my son’s date.”

Rob’s brown eyes blinked in momentary
confusion. “What? Oh, for gosh sakes, Dad.” His lips split into a
broad grin. “Tommie’s a girl. I..I mean, a woman.” A musical sigh
was emitted.

Quintin ran a hand through his hair. “I
thought Stephanie Brandt was the woman in your life.”

“She’s so last year, Dad.” He spread
butter on a slice of whole-wheat toast. “I don’t even work there
anymore.”

“You..you what?” Quintin’s voice rang
in disbelief.

“I went over after school on Tuesday
and told them I was quitting.” Rob folded half the bread into his
mouth. “The photo club meets two of the days I was scheduled to
work. But don’t worry –“ he held up his hand “—I’ve got a new job
that starts next week. Tuesday, Friday and Saturday afternoons at
the Yogurt Junction at the mall.”

“Rob, you want to run all this by me
again?” Quintin folded his hands quietly on top of the table.
“Three weeks ago you were threatening to run away if I interfered
with your seeing Stevie. Two weeks ago she was the most wonderful
thing that ever happened to you. You had never been happier in your
whole life. And now..now…” words failed him.

“Three weeks is a whole lifetime, Dad,”
Rob resumed seriously. “Besides, Tommie only moved here ten days
ago. It was instant karma between us,” he recounted in a dreamy
voice. “She’s beautiful. Five foot two, sky blue eyes, long blond
hair that she wears in one of those French braids. Tommie’s a
brain. Honor Society. She wants to be a vet. She also makes the
most delicious bean sprout sandwiches.”

“I …I see,” Quintin mumbled, although
he wasn’t quite sure he did.

“You’re going to love her, and her
folks are okay. Maybe we could have them over for dinner sometime?”
Robbie inquired. “Tommie’s mother is crazy over antiques, and she
was all excited about seeing what we’ve done to Cedar
Hill.”

Quintin nodded mutely.

“You’ll like Mr. Hammond – that’s
Tommie’s dad,” he continued. “He’s in advertising and marketing.
You should see all the crazy commercials he’s got on Blue ray.
Better than any TV show.”

“Where …where does Stephanie Brandt fit
in all this?” Quintin finally mustered the courage to
ask.

“I don’t understand.”

“Didn’t you just send her a bouquet of
red roses?”

Rob bristled. “Hey, if that florist
sent you a bill, it’s a lie. If I wanted to give flowers to anyone,
it’d be to Tommie. But she only likes plants. She’s into living
flora and fauna.”

“Then Stevie is no longer the great
love of your life?”

“Well, she’s okay.” Rob shrugged. “But
she doesn’t look at life the way Tommie does. Tommie sees and
breathes the energy being transmitted around her. She’s electric.”
Another sigh escaped him. “The last week and a half with her has
been greater than the sum total of my life. She’s everything.
Tommie’s the ultimate.”

Quintin scrutinized that familiar
dreamy look on his son’s face. “That’s just what you said about
Stevie,” he persisted.

“Stevie was fine for a while,” Robbie
admitted, returning to earth to reach for more toast. “She’s
just…just…” He fumbled for the right word “…too old.” He licked the
butter of his fingers. “And she’s the worst date I’ve ever had. Do
you know she scraped the sprouts off her salad and drowned the tofu
in oil and vinegar?” His narrow shoulder shuddered beneath his
school insignia sweatshirt. “She’s a washout at the video arcade,
and when we went to the basketball game, she kept getting her
raccoon tails caught in the hinges of the bleachers.”

Quintin smothered a laugh. “Must have
been very embarrassing for you.”

“For sure.” Robbie nodded. “Stevie’s
just going to have to realize she’s not young,” he continued, his
voice serious. “I don’t think she can handle the excitement of
being with someone my age.” His fingers curled around an apple in
the fruit basket on the table. “Stevie would so better with
someone…your age, Dad. Someone who’s you know, not as
active.”