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Authors: Randi Hart

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BOOK: Like a Woman Scorned
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Which prison he was in had never come up in conversation, so she phoned the Department of Corrections and learned that Rick Waterman was at the Northeastern Correctional Center in West Concord.  She could visit from Wednesday through Sunday, 10 am to 4 pm, and could bring two rolls of quarters and five single dollar bills in order to buy food and drinks. She needed a valid driver’s license or passport and could not be a convicted felon. After contact with Rick’s case manager, Alison was prepared to make the trip. The case manager, Mrs. Hammond, agreed not to tell Rick of her impending visit.

Alison showed up at the prison a few days later in a carefully-chosen new outfit, clothes that were of a decidedly different style than those Carley had worn around the office. She had her hair styled at a salon in Boston, and a professional manicure done for the first time in ages. And she certainly wore Angel perfume. Rick mentioned that his sense of smell had heightened since he’d been in prison, and it wasn’t exactly a blessing.

Mrs. Hammond knew all about Alison, as she was instrumental in getting Rick to the point where he could phone Alison and say he was sorry. She also had contact with his children.

Alison was led into the prison visiting room towards an unsuspecting Rick. His face lit up when he saw her. Alison noticed he was thinner. She smiled and sat down at his table.

“My God, Alison, what are you doing here? I can’t believe it. I thought I would never see you again.”

Alison talked while Rick listened. She told him what she went through after he left her, everything except for the part about no longer being able to have children. But she let him know there were “complications” with the abortion requiring a stay in the hospital. He took her hand and held it tightly as she finished speaking. Alison didn’t resist. After having spilled her guts and shedding a tear or two, amid constant apologies from Rick, she changed the subject.

“So, what’s happening with your case?”

“There’s no case, Ali. I’m just doing my time. Hopefully, I can make parole in thirteen or fourteen months. One of my old law school buddies is in here, and they let us be cellmates. He’s in for embezzlement and theft, stealing client’s money because of a drug addiction. A much worse crime than mine, but he got basically the same sentence. Kind of an injustice, if you think about it. From the court’s and the public’s viewpoint, we’re in for the exact same thing.”

Alison quickly changed the subject again. They chatted and ate candy bars from the machines, and ended up having a good time together. Time went by as the two of them talked about anything that came to mind, including the Red Sox and Giants, and then visiting hours were over.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” Rick asked.

“Yes, I’ll come.”

Alison was craving real food, so she drove to the Denny’s she passed on the way in. Not exactly a San Francisco Seafood restaurant. Alison had never been in a Denny’s before. She sat at the counter and ordered a BLT with a vanilla shake, then ate like she didn’t have a care in the world.

But it was a sleepless night. Alison stared at the ceiling for hours thinking about her situation, chastising herself for her failure to have moved on from Rick, and acknowledging the affection which was now undeniably rekindled. What was she doing here? How did all this happen? Is there a God who is behind everything, like her parents raised her to believe? If so, what was the purpose of all this? How could she be having feelings for Rick once again, after everything that happened, and what would the outcome be?

The next morning she was dead on her feet. At least she didn’t have dark circles under her eyes. The coffee she had while waiting for Rick to come into the visiting room helped a little. He looked better than he did the day before and she perked up when she saw him.

Today they talked about Rick’s kids mostly, and then about his new, already-separated wife. Elizabeth was her name. Rick said Elizabeth’s parents had a lot to do with the marriage arrangements and interfered with their lives too much. It was all apparently about money. Her father convinced Elizabeth that Rick was worth millions, having assumed as much from seeing him reported on in the media. That assessment would prove to be woefully unfounded. The fines and legal fees from his trial alone would nearly wipe him out. Elizabeth was left high and dry, with no gold in the mine.

They bought a variety of snacks from the machines this day and laughed about comparing them to famous restaurants. They drank sodas and compared them to their favorite wines. Then it was time to go. Rick gave Alison a hug and she responded. He asked if she would return the next day, Saturday, and she said she would. She turned around to wave goodbye to him. And she headed for Denny’s.

Too quickly, four o’clock Sunday arrived. Alison had a flight to catch at seven, so she planned on driving directly to Logan airport from the prison. They cleaned up their snack wrappers and cans, making sure Rick had no coins in his pockets. They walked toward the security guard in front of the electronically-sealed door and Rick put his arm around her shoulder. Alison turned into him and began to kiss him, feeling incredible energy from his arms as they came around to fully embrace her. Rick kissed her with all the passion he could muster—a kiss of love. Alison exited but turned to wave goodbye before leaving the building.

She got into the car and felt wonderful.  She was in love with Rick again. Alison now understood he had actually been in love with her the entire time, just as he said. The two of them together were something incredibly special. And now they had survived the test of time, after all, plus quite a bit more.

But this was a complicated situation. Alison realized she needed to figure out what to do next. Truth in a relationship was the most important thing—wasn’t it? But the truth in this case could be devastating. Could they now spend their lives together with Alison being the only one of them knowing she was responsible for what happened to him?

This was a plane ride where she didn’t sleep. Alison was troubled and realized she needed to make a major decision in her life, perhaps
the
major decision. She knew Rick well enough at this point, and was certain she wanted to be with him. No other life could now be as satisfying.

When Alison got home, there was a message from Brenda wondering how things were with her. There was also a message from Rick telling her how much he loved her and was going to miss her.

Alison knew that was true. Rick did love her. There was no longer any question about that. But would he still love her if he knew the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Was it foolish thinking to even consider such a thing?

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

Rick and Alison sat in the visiting area and marveled at the fact they had been together in that room every weekend for the past year. It was hard to believe how fast time was passing. Alison ran into his parents and kids at various times in the last few months, all of whom seemed genuinely happy to meet her. They were probably glad Rick had someone like her in his life. She also met Rick’s lawyer, Melinda Hayes, who expedited Rick’s divorce to Elizabeth while he was incarcerated. Rick was now legally divorced and the Northeastern Correctional Center’s most eligible bachelor.

It had only been a few weeks since Alison and Rick started talking about getting married. Sometimes Alison thought about the strange kismet of it while she was running in San Francisco during the week. She hadn’t told Brenda anything about it yet, and, truth be told, was probably too embarrassed to do so. But Alison couldn’t deny she really wanted to marry him. No man had ever made her feel like this before. When Rick loved her, Alison was helpless and melted under his power. She couldn’t wait to move and settle down with him into some cozy little new home together, shut away from the rest of the world.

Alison had been flying to Boston every Thursday night and staying until late Sunday to be with Rick. That gave them three days to be together in the visiting room, although sometimes a visit would be cut short because of high visitation traffic. Alison learned to get there in the late mornings so she wouldn’t be the first to be asked to leave when overcrowding occurred.

 It would be so much easier if she just got herself an apartment here. The two of them did talk about her moving to Boston every now and again, but they also discussed the possibility of Rick moving to San Francisco when he got out, which would allow him to escape any lingering community wrath. Rick was intelligent and industrious, so Alison wasn’t overly concerned about his ability to find work.

It was early summer again, a time when Alison loved the New England area. She decided to look around for an apartment in Boston. Rick would probably make parole before the end of autumn. On her last visit, Alison even suggested getting married while he was still in prison, although Massachusetts was not one of the six states which allowed conjugal visits. Rick wanted to wait until he was free and do it proper, however, with his family in attendance. Alison was glad about that when she gave it more thought. It meant he was serious.

That’s what made up Alison’s mind it was time to tell Rick the truth. This was something she needed to do before they got married. Otherwise, she didn’t know if she could live with herself. Rick’s love was real this time. Real love is unshakable. No doubt he would be shocked, but Rick was still so remorseful over what he did to Alison the month they met that the truth should only serve to even things out between them. Then they could move on in their wonderful life together with no secrets, no lingering bitterness. Sure, Rick would be upset for a little while, but in the end he would have to see the justice of it all and they could then start fresh. Nothing was going to kill their love this time; it was now too deeply rooted. Alison decided she would tell Rick on their next visit, before she signed the lease on the new apartment she found.

It was time to make some notes to guide her through the conversation. She needed a tactful, logical order of explaining her decision to do what she did, how she went about it, the bonding with Rick’s secretary, how she actually bought the job position, and the tough part—why she felt compelled to do something bad to him before leaving. He needed to know everything. Rick ending up in prison was just an unfortunate accident. She needed to make him understand that.

Alison spent her short, 3-day week at home designing an outline as one would for a speech. Hours at her favorite coffee shop passed as she sat there mentally rehearsing and clearing her head, preparing to tell Rick the entire truth about every last little detail. It was a difficult topic, but eventually she settled on a certain way to present it that she thought would lessen the impact. When Wednesday evening rolled around, however, Alison had second thoughts about it and became apprehensive. She needed a little more time to prepare.

So, she decided to stay home that weekend, as much as it hurt to do so. She explained to Rick on the phone that she had some financial matters to attend to, but would be back the following weekend as usual. He sounded concerned, but Alison knew that would all be cleared up when she dropped the bomb the next time she saw him and came clean. Rick would understand. He had to. And he would be thrilled when he found out about the new apartment in Boston, no doubt. She would save that for last. It would be the factor that would ultimately smooth everything over. Alison just needed to get to that part without freaking him out too much first.

 

* * *

 

Stuart Sharpe was getting tired of being woken by his cellmate’s continual tossing and turning.  They even switched beds because of it, but it didn’t help, as they both creaked. Tonight it was worse than usual.

“Rick you gotta settle down, man,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the prisoners in the nearby cells. “Your insomnia is costing me too, brother. And you better be careful you don’t disturb the Lorenzo boys out there.”

“Sorry, can’t help it.” Rick spoke in a voice just above a whisper himself. “She’s making me nuts.”

Stuart sat up. “You already decided to marry her, brother, so you best make peace with it.” He lit a cigarette.

“I don’t know about that now,” Rick said. “If it was really her, then she’s a lying manipulator, and playing me for a fool.”

“Was it really her?” Stuart asked.

“Yes. No. Yes. It had to be.”

“So you’re going to stop being naive, then?”

Rick stared at him by the light of the cigarette ember for a moment, and then responded.

“That’s how you see it?”

“Yeah, that’s how I see it. Clear. If you’re willing to listen to reason, talk to me in the yard tomorrow. But right now, I want you to prop your pillows against the wall and just sit. Stop trying to sleep. Just sit the rest of the night, but stop moving for Christ’s sake.”

“All right. Thanks, Stu.”

Rick followed his suggestion and Stuart laid back down. The bed creaking noise stopped, thankfully. After a while, Stuart turned in the bed and noticed Rick had fallen asleep in the sitting up position.

The next day in the yard, Stuart was sitting on the bleachers when he saw Rick approaching him.  Rick was rubbing his neck as he walked.

“Talk some sense into me Stu,” he said as he sat down.

Stuart smiled.“Sense, yeah. That’s what you need, all right. You see all the same signs I do, but you love this girl so you can’t look at it objectively. So let’s review. She was in Europe for a year, the same year this temp bitch—of the same basic build and skin tone—screwed you over by cooking your books and setting you up as an embezzler. We then find out when you left this chick hanging she was pregnant. Now maybe that’s all a coincidence. In your mind, anyway, it could all still be a coincidence. That’s why you gotta work like a detective now. Get all your information and put it together piece by piece. Then you’ll know for sure. You’re just at the early stage of figuring this out in your thick skull, and don’t have enough assembled yet to convince yourself, probably because you’re a damned trial lawyer.”

BOOK: Like a Woman Scorned
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