Remember Tuesday Morning (11 page)

That was before Bo, back when he lived here by himself. He’d just gotten home from a run at Pierce College, and he had four hours before he had to report to his job as a custody assistant at the men’s jail. He was headed for the shower when the doorbell rang. Alex hesitated, suspicious of anyone who would come to his door. He knew no one and had no friends in the area. He was convincing himself the caller must be soliciting one thing or another when he opened the door, and there she was.

Holly.

Like something out of his unrelenting dreams, she stood there, more beautiful than she’d been at their senior grad party — the last time he’d seen her. Older and with more wisdom in her eyes. It took him half a minute before he rebounded enough to say something. When he did, he was still trying to make sense of her standing there. “Holly … what are you … how did you …?”

She laughed, but it sounded more nervous than funny. “Hi.” She didn’t make a move in his direction. “Your mother told me where you lived. I flew in this morning and rented a car.”

The Holly he’d known was confident and charismatic, with a charm and joy that could take over a room. But she was only nineteen, and she seemed overwhelmed by what she’d done. He felt the same way. After all, she’d flown here by herself from New York, rented a car, and navigated the LA freeways all in an attempt to find him. Even knowing that he clearly hadn’t wanted to be found.

Her laughter faded, and she locked eyes with his. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.” Alex could have kicked himself. He didn’t have room in his life for a relationship with Holly, but he had no reason to be rude. “Sorry.” He stepped aside and motioned for her to come in. That’s when he realized he was wearing only the scrap of a muscle shirt and running shorts. He must’ve smelled horrific.

She looked around the dark living room, and he saw it for the first time through the eyes of a visitor. Dishes were stacked on the coffee table, and newspapers were scattered along the sofa. Dirty socks and an occasional towel lay on the floor. Alex managed a weak smile. He couldn’t believe she was here, let alone try to reckon with the condition of his condo. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Apparently.” She slid a stack of newspapers off the couch and onto the floor and sat down. “Go shower, Alex. We need to talk.”

He didn’t say anything, just followed her directions and hurried himself down the hallway and into the shower. The respite gave him time to collect his thoughts and form a plan. Never mind that his heart hadn’t beaten normally since he first saw her standing on his doorstep, or that seeing her had a way of making him forget 9/11 ever happened. The fact was, he had different passions now — the all-consuming desire to make his father proud, to prevent other innocent lives from being lost. She deserved more than he could offer.

By the time he was dressed and ready to face her, his emotions were firmly in check. He found her standing near his bookcase, looking at a photo of his parents. The same one that had caught her eye when she was a freshman in high school. For a moment he remembered how it used to be, how much he’d loved her. But his heart wasn’t wired the way it had been back then. The only thing that drove him now was school and the idea that one day he would be protecting others from the pain he’d been dealt. He couldn’t ease up long enough to love or laugh or let down his guard.

She must’ve sensed him there behind her, because she spoke without turning around. “They really did have something special, Alex.” She returned the picture and turned to him. “Death can’t change that.”

He didn’t cry, hadn’t shed tears since that horrible day after the terrorist attacks. But in that moment he had to swallow hard to stuff his feelings. “I know.” He motioned for her to take her seat again, and he took the chair closest to her. What he needed to say was very important, and he didn’t want her to misunderstand. For a while he only looked at her, letting himself remember how it used to be between them. Finally, he cleared his throat and tried to round up the right words. “But death changed a lot of other things. For me, anyway.”

“You told me that last year. When you said good-bye.” She slid to the edge of the sofa and reached for his hand.

He wanted to resist her, but he couldn’t. She was his friend, and he wouldn’t hurt her anymore than he had to. He let his fingers be drawn between hers. “So, why are you here?”

“I gave you a year.” Tears made her eyes shine. “I figured if I gave you enough time, you’d work through all this.” She lifted her free hand and let it fall to her lap again. “The pain you have about losing your dad, and whatever else you’re dealing with.”

She didn’t understand at all. “What happened on September 11 isn’t something I’ll ever work through.” His voice was tender, desperate for her to grasp what he was saying. “It changed me.” He released her hand, stood, and paced to the far window. “It changed how I feel about God and family and myself.”

“And me, Alex?” She was on her feet and when she reached him, she put her hand on his shoulder. “The attacks changed how you feel about me?”

He looked deep into her eyes, and lifted his fingers to her face. “Holly …” For a precarious moment he wondered if he might kiss her, if he might welcome her back into his life. Then before he could cross that line, he forced himself to answer her question. “Yes. They changed that too.” He moved his hand from her cheek and pressed it to his chest. “Inside me, something died that day, and it won’t ever live again. Not ever.” Once more he brushed his knuckles against her feathery soft cheek. “I couldn’t do that to you, ask you to stay with me when I’m … I’m not the same as I was back then.”

“But you are.” Her tears came harder then. Clearly this wasn’t the response she’d expected to get by coming all the way to LA to see him. “Deep inside you, you’re the same, and one day you’ll wake up and wonder why you threw it all away, why you couldn’t bring yourself to move on like everyone else who lost someone that day.”

Her words steeled him to her, made the rest of the conversation easy. He took a step back, his heart hurting and cold. “It’s over, Holly. I’m sorry.” He grabbed his keys and his wallet and looked at her one last time. “I’m leaving, and when I come back you need to be gone.”

“That’s it?” She yelled at him then, tears streaming down her face. “No good-bye, nothing? I come all the way here to tell you I still love you, and this is all the time you’ll give me?”

He was dizzy from the guilt tearing into him, but he couldn’t stop himself. He took gentle hold of her shoulders and silenced her with an embrace, a hug that lasted nearly three minutes. The whole time he let her cry, let her sobs shake both of them, until finally he could feel her regaining control, accepting his words even if they all but destroyed her.

Finally, he drew back and spoke to her for the last time. “Good-bye, Holly. I’m sorry.” He left without looking back, and for the next three hours he drove the LA freeways, forcing himself not to turn around and run to her. She deserved better, he kept telling himself. He had no room in his life for a relationship when all he wanted was to fight crime. When he returned home that night, she was gone.

That was the last he’d seen or heard from Holly Brooks.

He blinked and stared at the window, the place where they’d shared their last hug. He could still see her standing there, the questions in her eyes, the love in her heart. He groaned out loud and ran his fingers hard through his hair. He could usually go a whole day without thinking about her, and when he was swamped at work, even a handful of days, or a week. But lately she seemed to creep up from her place in his heart more often.

Sometimes it was his mother’s fault. She would bring Holly’s name up once in awhile, but Alex always stopped her. “I want to talk to you, Mom, but you gotta keep her out of this. She’s probably married with kids by now, the way she should be. It doesn’t help me stay focused when you keep bringing her up.”

Bo was running in his sleep again. Alex leaned over and stroked the dog’s head. He’d done the right thing, sending her away. He was not living the life he and Holly had dreamed of back when they were high school kids, back when he actually believed God had plans for His people.

For a fraction of an instant, he almost let himself return to that awful Tuesday morning, to the place where his life truly changed forever. But he stopped the memories before they could come to life. He stood up and headed to his bedroom. The place was clean now. At least he’d learned that much about living on his own. He grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, and ten minutes later he and Bo were headed off to Pierce College. If he ran the hills hard enough, maybe he could escape not only Holly’s memory, but also the memory of the terrorist attacks themselves. Because some things from his past didn’t only haunt him. They threatened to destroy him.

E
LEVEN

H
olly was about to leave her office for the day when Dave and Ron came through the door in a hurry, their voices intense. She settled back down at her desk so she could hear them better. Whatever they were discussing, Dave sounded upset with his son.

“You can’t take that sort of thing lightly.” The older man was pacing.

“I’m hardly taking it lightly. I called the police, didn’t I?”

“A threat of arson? We should have the whole sheriff’s department down here patrolling the place. Someone could get hurt.”

Ron was clearly trying to keep from fighting. His voice fell a notch. “Take a deep breath, Dad. Seriously. It was one phone call.”

“At a time when environmental terrorists are plotting against people like you and me.” Fear welled up in Holly. She stood and moved hesitantly into the next room. “You received a threat about fire?”

Ron gave her a pacifying look. “It was nothing. Sounded like a bunch of kids.”

“Kids don’t make those kinds of threats.” Dave had a pencil in his hand, and he tapped it against the edge of the table. His expression made it clear how serious he was. “When did you call the police?”

“As soon as I hung up.” Ron leaned back in his seat. If he was worried about the call, he didn’t act like it. “They’ve made a record of the threat, and they promised to patrol up here more often than before.”

“The thing is, we have the gate and the security system.” Holly didn’t want to take sides, but she’d always been comforted by that fact. “No one’s going to start a fire while we’re here. And the gate’s half a mile down the road.”

“Right.” Ron smiled first at her, then at his father. “If they drove through the gate or hoofed it up the road, they’d set off the silent security sensors. The sheriff’s department would be here before they reached the top of the hill.”

“It’d be easier to find a development they could drive up to.” Holly didn’t wish this sort of thing on anyone, but it terrified her to imagine it happening here.

“Exactly.” Ron gave his father a reassuring look. “Come on, lighten up. We’ve thought this through. We have a hundred grand in that gate and security system. We’re safe up here, no matter who made the call.”

Holly listened, desperate to believe him. The way the homes lay right along the canyon, a fire would pick up speed and barrel down the mountain, taking anything in its way. She’d watched footage of last year’s brushfires, and she knew then that if not for the gate, someone could walk right in and wipe out all of Oak Canyon Estates with a single match — both the previous phase and this one. And the firestorm they would create in the process could take out entire neighborhoods at the base of the hill.

If the fire started at night, there might not be time to warn the residents down below, and then …

She closed her eyes, refusing to think about the possibility.

Ron was saying, “Listen, Dad, tell you what.” He left the table and crossed the room. “Holly and I are going to check the security fence around the back of the property. Just to be safe.”

Dave seemed to relax at the idea. “Good. I’ll call the alarm company and make sure everything’s working fine on their end.”

When they were outside, the door shut behind them, Ron offered her his arm. She took hold of it, and they found an easy pace as they started up the street toward the largest model. “Maybe the stress is getting to him.” He gestured toward the row of homes. “The economy’s still soft, and … well, everything he has is wrapped up in these houses.”

“They’re insured, right?” Holly didn’t worry herself about such details. Her concern was about their safety and the safety of homeowners in the area. Beyond that, her job was to sell houses, and she was ahead of projections, even with the weak economy.

“We have insurance, but the deductible’s pretty high.” He made a face like he was calculating something. “If we lost all these houses, the subs would get paid. But it’d put us under. Dad knows that.”

The wind had died down, and only a gentle breeze rolled down from the top of the mountain through the high canyon development. Holly swallowed hard. “That won’t happen. That’s why the security system and the gate were such good ideas.”

“Thank you.” He straightened his shoulders and gazed down at her.

She hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but if he took it that way, fine. They reached the end of the street, and he jogged up along the craggy dirt at the front of the end lot to a post that anchored the security fence along the backs of the houses. While he checked it, Holly studied him. He was soft around the middle, but tall with broad shoulders. Most women her age would’ve found him attractive — if not overwhelmed by his physical presence, then because of his kindness and confidence and great success in business. Holly didn’t know exactly how much Ron Jacobs was worth, but it was a lot. Aside from his father, he owned several developments on the Valley floor, and a house that overlooked the ocean.

But the money didn’t matter to Holly. In fact, it was more of a detriment. Ron had clearly become comfortable in his life, satisfied with conquering the business world and acquiring houses and cars. A man like that could never really need her. Not the way she’d been needed once, a lifetime ago.

He jogged back to her, and as he reached her, he must’ve seen the doubt flickering in her eyes. She looked away, but it was too late.

“What’re you thinking?” He held out his arm again, and she took it.

This was how he always walked with her, the way cultured people showed affection, maybe. But it made Holly feel like she was pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She breathed in the sweet smell of the canyon and thought about putting him off, telling him she wasn’t thinking about anything. But the solitude of the moment and the beauty of the setting sun made her feel more transparent than usual. She lifted her eyes to his as they kept walking. “I guess I’m thinking that you must not need very much.” She smiled, keeping her tone even. “Since you already have everything you ever wanted.”

He didn’t react to her statement other than with the hint of a smile that played on his lips. He looked straight ahead, self-assurance spilling into his voice. “I have much, that’s true. Wealth and property.” He shrugged in an attempt to look humble. Then he stopped and faced her. “I earned everything I have, and I worked hard to get it. But lately,” he touched her chin. So far he hadn’t kissed her, and he made no attempt now. “Lately, all that pales to how it feels when I’m with you.” The breeze lifted the front of his hair and exposed his receding hairline. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the one, Holly.”

She tried not to squirm beneath his stare. “Really?”

“Yes.” He ran his thumb along her brow. “The one with whom I can share all I’ve built, all I’ve made of myself.”

What about
her
feelings?
she wanted to ask him. Had he thought about that? She silently warned herself that she was doing it again. Being critical of Ron for no reason. She smiled at him. “I like when you share your feelings with me.”

“See, that’s what I mean.” He grinned and continued walking, his elbow still extended for her. “You say something like that, and I feel like I’m alive.” They checked the post at the other end of the street, and when they reached the front door of the model home again, he turned to her. “This weekend, Holly? Can I take you out?”

Though Holly could see this offer coming, so far they hadn’t been on a date. They’d walked together and spent time at work together, and she could sense his interest. But this was the first step. She swallowed and tried to think fast. There wasn’t a single reason why she should tell him no. She felt her smile become shyer than before. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about I surprise you?” He leaned close and kissed her forehead. “Whatever I come up with for Saturday, how about you come with me to church Sunday morning?” He stepped back. “The eleven o’clock service?”

“Uh …” What was wrong with her? Ron was perfect, right? Able to care for her beyond her wildest dreams, and he didn’t only want a date with her, he wanted to take her to church. What more could she ask for? “Yes, Ron … that sounds lovely.”

But from that moment until her drive home that night, she wanted to wash her mouth out with soap.
That sounds lovely?
Had she really said that? There was nothing lovely about taking in a church service. Who was she kidding? That wasn’t how she talked or how she felt at all. The idea of going to church with Ron felt as phony as the picture of her walking alongside him, clinging to his elbow. If she couldn’t be herself around Ron, the weekend was doomed already.

She pressed the clicker on her car’s visor, and the security gate at her townhouse complex opened slowly. Holly tried to relax. Usually she liked coming home, liked leaving the demands of Oak Creak Estates behind her for an evening.

She had earned her degree in business and taken a job with Jacobs Development her senior year. Now she earned a considerable income, and she’d been able to purchase one of the new condos off Las Virgenes Road, just before Malibu Canyon. The view was pretty — though not the breathtaking panoramas she worked around every day. Mostly it was a great investment, a safe place to live close to work and with all the amenities she wanted in a home — security, a swimming pool, tennis courts, and a private gym. All that and her mom had a unit right around the corner from her.

But that night as she stepped into her house, she felt as empty as her feelings for Ron Jacobs. The phone rang just as she kicked off her heels, and she answered it on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, honey.” It was her mother. “How was your day?”

She and her mom were closer now than they’d been back when she was growing up. Because of Alex’s parents, her mom had stopped drinking years ago and found what they’d been missing as a couple. But they only shared that special time for a few short years. After her dad’s sudden heart attack, her mother had been left alone. Holly’s older sister married five years ago, and she lived in Maryland with her husband and two sons. Finally, when it became clear to Holly’s mother that Holly wasn’t moving back to the East Coast, she sold her house in Staten Island and found a townhouse in the same development as Holly.

Her mom’s training was in nursing, and she found a position in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Humana West Hills Hospital. Between her job and her involvement at church, her mother kept busy. But there was still time for daily conversations and regular dinners throughout the week. Holly kicked back in her leather love seat and closed her eyes. “We had a threat today, someone saying they were going to set fire to the estates.”

“Holly, that’s terrible!” Her mother’s alarm was right up there with Dave’s.

“I know, but Ron reported the call to the police.” She tried to convince her mother and herself there was nothing to worry about. “Besides, we have the gate and the security system.”

“True.” Her mother sounded a little more at ease with the reminder. “So tell me about Ron? Anything coming of his attraction?”

“I think so.” She could talk to her mom about any topic, and Ron was no exception. She kept her voice upbeat, because she needed to give the idea of Ron a chance. She’d always been able to talk to her mom, and this was no exception. “He asked me out this weekend.”

“Really?” There was a smile in her mother’s tone. “And you said yes?”

“I did. I don’t know where we are going. He said he wants to surprise me.”

They talked a few minutes more about her conversation with Ron, how he was beginning to wonder if maybe she was the one he was supposed to share his life with. She worked her way through all the details, but when she was finished, there was silence on the other end. “Mom?”

“I don’t hear it. The excitement in your voice.”

Holly felt the rush of defeat. “You know me too well.” She let her sigh linger over the phone line. “I should feel something, right? Wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, that’s just it, honey. In the movies and in storybooks, love comes at us all at once, like a stunning rainbow across an otherwise dreary sky. But that’s not always how it is in real life.” She hesitated. “In real life, love takes time. You need to get to know Ron and see his strengths, his weaknesses. Sometimes women in their mid-twenties are busy holding out for the magic of first love and missing the fact that they need to work at the relationships around them. Real love takes a lot of work, Holly.”

She didn’t know why exactly, but her mother’s talk depressed her. They made a plan to talk the next day, said their good-byes, and hung up. Without making a conscious decision, Holly wandered through the house to the place at her kitchen bar where she kept her leather workbag. The newspaper article was still tucked inside, and now she pulled it out. She opened it and spread it on the counter.

“Alex … why can’t I stop thinking about you?” she whispered, as if by doing so she could keep from admitting the truth to herself.

The lighting was better here than it had been in her office, and she could make out his face more clearly than before. Not just his face, but his eyes — or the empty hard glint of darkness where his eyes used to be. She looked more closely. Those weren’t the eyes of the boy she’d fallen in love with. Not even close. She walked to the kitchen sink and poured herself a glass of milk.