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Authors: Randi Hart

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BOOK: Like a Woman Scorned
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But her sleep left her. Alison tossed and turned all night. She began feeling sick to her stomach. She knew it was not from anything she ate. Just as she once knew when she was pregnant in spite of a test telling her she wasn’t, Alison knew exactly what the problem was now. What she did to Rick was uncalled for. It was too much. Messing up the guy’s life a little—what she originally set out to do—was one thing. Ending his career and putting him up on possible criminal charges was quite another, and way over-the-top. She despised him so much it never occurred to her until now that she might actually regret doing what she did.

Now she had to find a way to live with it.

Alison spent the next few days with her parents, cruising around in the new car and getting in a round of golf with her dad. By dinner time the third day, she was satisfied with her visit and announced she would be going back home tomorrow. She decided to take the shuttle bus to the airport in the morning, despite the arguments from her dad.

She looked back and waved as the van pulled away from her childhood home. Her parents returned the wave. Alison felt a tremendous tug at her heart. Would she see her parents a next time? She always wondered how much longer they would live. When they were no longer in sight, Alison took a deep breath and stretched her legs in front of her. She felt free, and couldn’t wait to get home.

The flight was short. In a matter of hours, Alison was back in her own San Francisco house. She locked the door behind her and took a deep breath, realizing just how much her home really meant to her. There was no hint of Emil and Lisa, which was nice. In her guest room were all the packages she’d shipped to herself from Zurich and New York, which included her recent shopping items as well as most of her luggage. It would take her a couple of days to go through everything, time she planned on enjoying.

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

It was only a few days before Alison was right back in the middle of her normal life. Well, her recently-retired normal life, anyway. Sometimes she couldn’t shake a need to be doing something productive, so she didn’t bother re-hiring the maid service and instead cleaned the house herself. She also began running again, and felt good doing it—really good. Better than she had in years. Not having to go to work meant longer daily runs, sometimes in the middle of the day, which was nice.

Brenda desperately wanted to get together, so Alison agreed to be picked up by her the second Saturday she was home. They headed for the wine country in Petaluma to spend some quality time together and catch up.

“So, did you go to the Eifel Tower?” Brenda asked while sipping on an over-poured zinfandel sample at the third winery they stopped at.

“Of course,” Alison replied. “You wouldn’t believe the view from the top. It’s a little scary, though, being up that high.”

“What about Munich? Did you go to any beer halls?”

“Yes, one or two, but I prefer the wine. The Germans actually make great wine, and not just the sweet desert wines they are known for. I had some wonderful dry Rieslings there.” Alison lifted her wine glass in the air as she spoke, a bit surprised at how good of a liar she was—especially while looking straight into her best friend’s eyes.

“What about men?” Brenda asked. It was the question Alison knew was coming.

“I didn’t go to China, Bren.” They both laughed.

“No, seriously,” Brenda persisted.

“Well,” Alison began, smiling mischievously while looking upwards, “it’s funny you asked about Munich and the beer halls. I did meet an interesting guy there who, um, showed me around a little, and even took me wine tasting.”

“Oooooh, please go on. Details, girl. Details.”

Alison broke her lofty pose and slowly shook her head. “No, no details. Not today, anyway. Let me just say now that he was a nice guy and I’m glad to have spent some time with him. But we both knew I was moving on soon in my travelling, and he couldn’t get out of work. It was probably for the best. I liked travelling alone. I really did.”

Brenda giggled like a school girl and finished off her zinfandel sample. Alison had to admit it was nice hanging out with her like this, just like the old days, and they ended up having a great time. Well, as good a time as one can have when having to compound lies about one’s life. That certainly did take something away from the female-girlfriend relationship, and Alison regretted it. She didn’t want to live the rest of her life out as a liar—but at the moment, she couldn’t see a way around it. Alison was careful about what she said, knowing the wine could easily cause her to slip up with inconsistencies in her stories. She resisted the temptation to make a full confession to her inquisitive best friend as the afternoon’s wine consumption progressed. They ended the day on a good note and promised to do things like that more often.

Several months then went by. Alison came back from a run one morning just as a fog was rolling in and the weather about to change. It was early summer on the bay. She made herself lunch, and before she realized it had finished an entire bowl of chicken salad and two croissants.

The house phone rang. Alison stood and moved to answer it.

Croissant crumbs fell from her lap to the floor. No good. She stooped to clean them.

The machine took the call. The voice that started speaking sent Alison’s heart up into her throat.

It was Rick.

 

“Alison, this is Rick Waterman. Remember me? Maybe I’m glad you didn’t answer, as it makes this a little easier. I’m calling to apologize for what I did a couple years ago. I only have five minutes to make this call and you can’t call me back. Something happened and I’m now in prison. I’ve been so troubled by what I did to you that I feel I just have to apologize. I was engaged when I met you. That’s why I didn’t call back. The wedding was a month later. I’m sorry. I know what I did was wrong. I want you to know I meant it when I said I love you. I just couldn’t get out of what was happening in my life. I am so sorry for hurting you and hope you are okay. Bye.”

 

Alison dropped the crumbs back to the floor and remained frozen in place for several minutes. Her cell phone then buzzed with the sound of a new text message. She checked it and was relieved to see it was from Brenda. She texted back that she had just walked in and was planning to call her but was dead tired, so how about tomorrow.

The situation called for something stronger than coffee. Alison opened a new bottle of wine and seated herself on the window bench to look out over the neighborhood she loved so much. The fog was now becoming thick. She couldn’t believe Rick’s phone call. It wasn’t necessary to play it again. That message would be forever in her brain. What on earth had happened to him? And why was he suddenly reaching out to her now?

One week later, Brenda sat with Alison on the same window bench as Alison added more contrived details to her year-long lie of travelling throughout Europe. Brenda loved hearing Alison talk about the trip; all the cities in Austria, Germany, France, and Switzerland—and the restaurants, of course.  Alison spoke of having her hair done in Zurich and manicures in quaint small villages, and described all the great hotel rooms she stayed in. She even let Brenda think there had been a second man while she was in Vienna. Brenda was wide-eyed and loved hearing it all. It never would have occurred to her that Alison was making it all up.

Then, quite spontaneously, Alison told Brenda about the out-of-the-blue phone call from Rick and played the message for her. Brenda’s mouth hung open as it finished. She just sat there, staring back at Alison for a full minute before speaking.

“Oh my God, what is that about? What are you going to do, Ali?”

“I’m not going to do anything. What am I supposed to do? He said what he needed to say and I sure as hell can’t simply forgive him.”

They said no more about it, but their conversation turned sedate and awkward. Brenda left shortly thereafter.

The following week, the phone rang just as Alison was coming back in the house from her run. She answered this time, and the voice which spoke came barging into her heart as well as her head.

“I’m glad you answered. It’s Rick Waterman. I assume you got my last message. Alison, I meant what I said. Everything I said. That I’m sorry. That I love you. I know I must have hurt you terribly, and I cannot stop apologizing no matter how much time has gone by. I’m in a lot of trouble now, and I’m trying hard to sort out my life. Will you let me talk?”

Alison sighed and sat down.

“Yes Rick, I got your message. It’s okay, all right? I accept your apology. I wish I could say you didn’t hurt me too much, but that would be a lie. Just so you know, I was pregnant—and had to terminate the pregnancy.” Alison couldn’t believe the words that just came out of her mouth. Apparently, her emotions were getting the better of her and overruling commands from her brain. “I really don’t know what else to say to you,” she continued. “Where are you?”

“I’m in state prison, Alison. I let my life get out of control, even more than it was when I met you, though I never told you about any of that. My long-time, trusted secretary quit and I hired a friend of hers as a replacement, without checking her references out first. It was a terrible blunder on my part. She kept the office going for about a year and then disappeared one day, and suddenly my accounts were all co-mingled with a paper trail of client funds leading to yacht down payment that I didn’t make. You know how the State Bar feels about that. I have no idea why or how it happened, but I was held responsible for being irresponsible. My new wife left me, but we weren’t going to make it anyway. I think she could tell I was in love with someone else—you, of course. My kids have stuck with me, thankfully, and I have a good defense lawyer. But I lost everything and can’t practice law anymore. I’ve thought of you constantly, and I wanted to call and apologize more than anything else—but I was terrified to do it until now.”

Alison took a deep breath that could be heard by both of them on the phone. Certainly Rick must have realized he was dumping a ton of bricks on her. It was a little much to handle for someone just walking in the door from a run. Still, there was something inside Alison which was happy to hear all this. It was the explanation she never got and had once desperately needed.

“Rick, you must realize it’s too late for this.”

There was a moment of silence before she continued.

 “I admit I’m still grateful for your call, though. The things you’re saying to me now, if only …well, I just wish you called me before and said them. I’m very sorry to hear about what’s happened to you.  I’m sorry to hear about your wife leaving, too. Sounds like you did a good job raising your kids, though. What’s going to happen to you now?”

“I was sentenced to two years in state prison. It’s insane, for something as common as trust fund comingling, but my name was in the papers all the time around here so they came after me like they do when they get a celebrity, to try and make an example I guess. It’s that damn boat purchase my secretary tried to make that sunk me. All I’m really guilty of is hiring someone without checking her out first, and then not paying close enough attention to what was going on in my office. Why would anyone do this to me?”

Alison felt herself start to gag. She needed to get off the phone.

“I’m sorry to do this Rick, but I’m late for a dinner engagement and need to go.”

“That’s okay. My phone call time is almost up anyway. Can I call you again?”

“I guess so, if you really want. Bye.”

Alison hung up and lay on the couch. She shivered when she recounted the recent turn of events in her life. The surgery, the therapist, Emil, and the deliberate year-long act of revenge she carried out with such conniving. She was finally starting to get over all of it, and had even begun to accept and believe the tremendous fabrication she sold her friends and family. But now it was all suddenly rushing back at her. Rick wanted to call and talk more. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe Alison simply wouldn’t pick up when he called. Did she even really know if she wanted him to call back or not?

But he did call again. And again. This guy was really something. He doesn’t call at all when it’s the most important thing in the world to her, but when she finally gets over him he rings her phone off the hook. Alison decided to pick up when he called, though, and made an effort at being cordial—for a variety of reasons.

For one thing, she wanted to let him tell his story, especially about the secretary who vanished. As it turned out, Rick’s lawyer hired high-priced private investigators to find her but the trail came up cold. They traced her to a dead relative’s house in Springfield but could go no further. Her resume was all fake, and her description didn’t match the one some old neighbors gave of the girl who used to live in that house. One of the PI’s concluded that she left the country and was currently hiding under an assumed identity somewhere. Rick didn’t want to spend the money to try and follow it any further, when he was the one the court was ultimately holding responsible.

Then there was the guilt factor. Alison knew she had gone too far in her revenge. She really didn’t think he would end up in prison like this. Now she realized Rick didn’t have anyone else to call and talk to. It seemed only right to let him have five minutes a couple of times per week. At least he couldn’t take up much of her day when he called.

After a while, however, Alison felt her heart begin to soften. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly when it happened, but she began to look forward to his calls. The man did seem genuinely sorry for what he did to her, and expressed grief over the pregnancy and lost child. Gradually, over the course of several months, Alison found herself becoming reattached to him. He was the old Rick again, the one of that wonderful December past, and not the grumpy all-business Rick of the law practice.

Alison woke up one day and knew she had to go see him. The phone wasn’t enough anymore. If Rick really still loved her, as he kept insisting every time he called, Alison wanted to hear it in person, while looking into those green eyes. She would just show up to visit one day and surprise him.

BOOK: Like a Woman Scorned
10.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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