Prey of Desire (5 page)

“You’re
hoping he’s going to call you or come by or…”

“This
isn’t about Ross,” Kim insisted. “And even if I did have the time, I wouldn’t
go out with the shrink again. I don’t give second chances.”

“He
deserves a second chance.”
     

“No,” Kim
said. She opened the door to Mallory's Mazda and snapped her finger. Zeus
jumped inside the little sports car as she continued. “I'm going to be late for
class.”

With
that, she turned her back on Mallory and walked away, returning to the park
bench. She collected her books. Everything looked to be in order.

“Fine.
You win,”
Mallory called after her. “Go back inside and sulk. But let me ask you one
thing…” she paused, as if waiting for Kim to say something.

“Yes…?”
Kim stopped walking but she didn't turn around.

Mallory
squinted and she clasped her hands together over her heart. “What’d you think
of The
Gunz
? Isn’t he to die for?”

Kim
glanced over her shoulder and shot her a wicked smile. She saw Zeus in the
front seat of the white Mazda behind her. “Get home so you can answer if KYGL
calls you. I hope you win ten thousand dollars.”

Turning
her head, she walked to the University building, smiling.

                       
*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

From the
anonymity of the crowded campus, he watched Kimberly talk to the red-headed
girl and the Doberman beside the white Mazda Miata. When she turned, collected
her books on the park bench and headed toward the University building, she
walked right past him. She didn't even notice him. She never noticed him.

His eyes
followed her. She pushed through the entrance doors and disappeared inside.
Sighing, he swiped the lock of hair falling down over his eyes and flipped it
behind his left ear, then followed her inside.

5

Twenty Love Poems

& a Song of Despair

Kim sat
in an auditorium-style classroom along with roughly eighty other students.
She’d had this professor last semester for literature, and knew what to expect.
Trying to stay focused, she listened to his droning, monotone lecture.

“Cyrano
de Bergerac is a play written in verse, in rhyming couplets of twelve
syllables per line,” he was saying in front of the chalkboard, gesturing with
his arms.

She made
notes in her spiral notebook, but her thoughts dwelled on Ross. She had so many
questions, and once again she could feel him watching. Feel his eyes burning
holes in the back of her head. Self-consciously, Kim looked up and behind her.

There was
a classroom of students around her, but she made eye contact with a boy in the
back. It was the student from the park bench, the one with the black, wavy hair
that fell into his eyes. He was glaring at her; his eyes bore into her and it
gave her chills. The Professor cleared his throat and Kim looked away. She
focused on her literature text book and pulled out her binder. She listened as
the Professor continued.

“The play
is responsible for introducing the word ‘panache’ into the English language,”
he was saying. “Cyrano is, in fact, famed for his panache, and the play ends
with him saying those words just before his death.”

Flipping
open the binder, Kim found a small book inside. “
Twenty Love Poems and a
Song of Despair
” by Pablo Neruda. She opened the poetry book. The inside
front cover was inscribed: “
For my Darling Bonnie. You will always be my
angel.
Love Daddy.”
An envelope fell out of the
book and landed near her ankles. She picked it up and tore it open. An index
card slipped out. It too was handwritten in red ink.

“
Greico’s
Italian Restaurant.
I’ll be waiting.”

Kim
looked around. No one was paying attention. The boy in the back was writing,
taking notes. The Professor droned on.

She
thought of Addison’s 50th birthday celebration there, and wondered if Mallory
had slipped the invitation in her book. But that would’ve been impossible. And
Mallory was well aware of her history with
Greico’s
.
And with Ross.
That was
their
place.

“Ross.”
Kim nodded to herself and flipped through the poetry book, then tucked the note
back inside and closed the binder.

After
class, Kim walked to the nursing home approximately six blocks from the
University. She entered the building, and an orderly looked up and smiled at
her.

“Hi, Miss
Bradford,” the large woman in aqua-colored scrubs said to her as she wheeled an
elderly woman in a wheelchair toward the cafeteria.

“Hi Nurse
Carla,” Kim returned. “How’s he doing?”

“Real good today.
He’s in
his room.” Carla paused a moment, fidgeting with the elderly woman in the wheel
chair. Once settled, she looked back up at Kim and gave her an exhausted smile.
“Child, your
grandaddy
ate all his peas and carrots,
and had a solid bowel movement.”

“Thanks
for watching out for him,” Kim said. “I really appreciate all the extra
attention you give him.”

Nurse
Carla smiled and Kim walked past her down the wing. She found the door to her
grandfather’s room slightly open. Inside, a thin, graying man was sitting in a
green fabric recliner, staring out the window.

“
Grampa
,” Kim said, entering the room. “How are you doing
today?”

He didn’t
answer. He stared out the window. She set her books on a tray beside the bed
and stepped toward him. Kneeling beside the chair, she took his hand.

“
Grampa
,” she said, leaning over and hugging him. Then, she
asked again, “How are you doing today?
You flirting
with the nurses again?”

He didn’t
respond. He didn’t blink. She wasn’t even sure that he was aware that she was
there. Still, Kim smiled and lifted a finger to move a strand of hair out of
his eyes.

“
What’cha
looking at?” she asked him, glancing out the
window.

A blue
jay squawked in a magnolia tree. Mad about something, it took off and soared
into the sky. Beyond that, two young boys were running in the courtyard. They
were yelling and laughing. Kim wondered if they were someone’s grandchildren,
or maybe great grandchildren, then looked back at her grandfather. “Where’s
your glasses,” she asked him.

Standing,
she walked across the room and found a pair of black-framed bifocals on the
nightstand. She returned to him and slipped them on his face. He turned his
head slightly, as if suddenly spying something out the window he hadn’t noticed
before.

“Now
isn’t that better?” Kim asked, laughing a little. She walked over to the tray
beside the bed and picked up her books. She found the poetry book.

“Ross
gave me a book today,” she continued, picking it up in one hand and grabbing a
fold-out chair from the corner. She took it and unfolded it beside him. “You
remember Ross don’t you?”

Saying
nothing, he seemed focused on the children running in the courtyard. Kim
watched him a moment, then sat down beside him. “Well, as I told you before,
Ross and I have been going through this rough patch but I think we’re getting
past it now. Life doesn’t get any easier. That’s what you always say, right?”

He didn’t
respond. After a moment, she held up the poetry book then opened it on her lap.

“Ross
gave me a book today,” she said, turning to the first page. “It’s called ‘Twenty
Love Poems and a Song of Despair.’ Isn’t that romantic?”

Page by
page, she read each poem to him. She found one poem of particular interest: “If
You Forget Me.” Those were the words written on the note she’d received at the
New Year’s Eve Party. This was the proof: the note and the poetry book were
from Ross.

And, he
was waiting for her at their restaurant. Sighing, she turned the page.

“Did you
ever write
Nanna
poems when you were young and
courting?” she asked him. She watched him a moment, waiting for a response.

There was
a yellowing photo of her grand- mother in a frame on the nightstand. “
Nanna
was so beautiful when she was young. She was quite
the catch. And I’m sure you were handsome and dashing too. Just like Ross…” Her
words trailed off.

As if
suddenly noticing someone was beside him, he turned his head, appraising her. “Do
you know my daughter?” he asked her in a gravely, tired voice.

Kim
smiled. “Of course I do. That’s my mother. I’m your granddaughter.”

“You look
like
her,
” he said “She’s about your age, my daughter.”

Kim
paused a moment, studying him. Then she returned her focus to the book. When
she finished reading it to him, she started over and read each poem again.

                                   
*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

It was
dark by the time she walked through downtown, past the University. If it hadn’t
been so late, she would’ve walked along Morris
Munger
Road again, pausing at the curve, searching the ground around the old real
estate sign and empty fruit stand.

But Kim
decided to take the shorter, direct route home as the night was chilly and a
little spooky.
 

Barely
twenty minutes later,
she
made her way into the gated
townhome complex. The invitation in red ink was safely tucked away inside the
poetry book, alongside her textbooks. She smiled, thinking about the lovely
gift. It was so romantic.

She
picked up Zeus at Mallory’s and they spoke briefly. The radio station hadn’t
called her, it turned out. Kim decided not to say anything to Mallory about the
invitation.
At least not yet.
Finally, she and Zeus
entered her own townhome next door.

“You’re
getting me into a lot of trouble,” she said. Zeus looked up at her, curious.

The
landlord was gone. The sink appeared to be fixed, again, and she tested the
garbage disposal. Satisfied, Kim rinsed her hands as Zeus sat on the floor. He
never took his eyes off her.

“I can’t
afford another place right now, so if you get us evicted then we’re just going
to have to live in a cardboard box under a bridge,” she said, watching his
large brown eyes follow her out the kitchen and into the living
room. Then, as she moved toward the phone, she hesitated and pulled out
the poetry book and removed the invitation.

“
Greico’s
Italian
Restaurant.
I will be waiting.
”

She found
the Yellow Pages phone book and flipped through it. Finding the number for
Greico’s
Italian Fine Cuisine, she dialed the number.

“Pleasant evening.
Thank you for calling
Greico’s
Italian Fine Cuisine. What can I do for you this evening?”
 
came
the voice over the
phone.

“My name
is Kimberly Bradford…” She absent mindedly looped a finger between the black
spirals of the twisted phone cord. “I need to confirm reservations for, um, Ross
McGuire.”
     

“Yes, of
course. For what evening Miss Bradford.”

“I’m not
sure.
Possibly tonight.”

“One
moment, Miss Bradford…”
 Kim could hear
the rattling of paper and a moment later the voice returned. “
I’m sorry
ma’am. I show no reservations in that name. However…”

“Yes?”

“Reservations
have been made in your name for eight o'clock Friday evening.”

An
overwhelming giddy feeling rippled through Kim’s body and she hung up the
phone. She returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table, her dog lying at
her feet.

Zeus
whimpered and looked away. She smiled fondly at him then unfolded the newspaper
she had started to read this morning, glancing at the bold headline describing
the Congressman’s murder. The ringing phone broke her concentration. Sighing,
she looked at Zeus.

The phone
rang again.

Huffing,
Zeus leapt up to his feet and trotted out the room.

“I know!
I know. It’s not your fault.” Returning to the living room, she reached for the
receiver. “Hello?”

There was
no answer.
Only breathing.

“Is
someone there?”

A quiet,
masculine voice rippled across the line. He read the poem to her, “
If You
Forget Me.
” Static crackled again,
then
the line
went silent.

“Ross…?”
      

He didn’t
answer.

“Ross,”
she whispered again. She picked up the poetry book. Flipping through the pages,
she found the poem he just recited. “If You Forget Me,” Kim continued. “That’s
Pablo Neruda. Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair.”

Static
crackled again.

“Did you
give me that book?” she asked.

The line
clicked and a dial tone blared through the receiver. He was gone.

Five
weeks and fifteen hours. 
She
wanted to scream. Kim hung up the receiver, took a deep breath,
calmed
herself. She picked it back up.
Dialed
caller return.
Waited.

The phone
rang.

It rang
again, then a recorded voice stated, “
Sorry. That number has been blocked.”

Frustrated,
she hung up the phone.
If Ross was reaching out to her
, she thought,
maybe
she could run down to his job at the garage. Maybe he wanted her to.
Again,
she didn’t want to look desperate, and decided to wait until Friday. She could
play his game.

Kim
glanced around the room, considering for a moment calling Mallory, then
remembered her friend's dinner engagement with Addison and
that
shrink.