Twenty-Five Years Ago Today (18 page)

Her pulse accelerating, Kris said her
goodbyes and followed him to the door. She halted. Sleet spit
through the air, mixed with whipping snow. Another three inches
must have accumulated.

"I live five minutes down the road," Eric
said. "How about we hang out at my place until there's a lull?"

"I'll be ..." Kris broke off before she said
"fine." What else did she have to do? Only Chipmunk awaited her
back home, and she had a hunch her feline friend would approve. The
cat had a bigger social life than she did. At least Chipmunk meowed
at birds and dogs through the window.

"Okay," she said. "For a little while."

"Great. I'll scrape off the car."

Kris huddled in the foyer, a wave of
uneasiness hitting her. What was she getting herself into?

***

Snow gusts buffeted outside Eric's apartment.
Kris snuggled under a crocheted blanket, more comfortable than she
would've believed possible. She surveyed the hand-me-down
furniture, framed sports posters on the walls and window shades
with no curtains. A trunk with brass latches doubled as a coffee
table. Typical bachelor pad except for the keyboard in the corner
and the shelves stacked with CDs and old record albums.

Eric carried in a package of Oreos and two
glasses of milk. He flipped on the TV, then hesitated between the
armchair and the couch. He chose the couch, his blue-jeaned clad
leg brushing against hers. A tingle crawled down her thigh. He
hadn't acknowledged the kiss of the other night. They couldn't
ignore it forever.

"What'd you think of the show?" Eric passed
her two cookies wrapped in a napkin.

"It was great," she said. "Did you ever try
to sell your songs?"

"Back in college, I sent some stuff around to
music publishers and independent producers. I found out I didn't
handle rejection well and preferred music as a hobby. The other
band members feel the same way, or we wouldn't have stayed
together."

"When did the band form?"

"Senior year in high school. We started with
big dreams, then life got in the way. I doubt we'll keep up the
pace once everyone has kids. Laura's got baby fever, but hopefully
the group will stay together." He broke off the top layer of an
Oreo.

"I wouldn't have the guts to go on
stage."

"I’d better come clean. It's an adrenaline
rush as long as I don't have to sing. In high school, I tried lead
vocals, but I’d make myself sick before shows. Paul likes to kid me
about it."

"Paul and I had a nice chat. He told me that
you were interested in Diana as a kid. He said it upset your
mother."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kris asked.

Eric shrugged. "I resented it when you came
along, at least until I got to know you better. I grew up with that
mystery. I wanted to solve it."

First she'd trespassed on Bruce's turf, now
Eric's. "That's why you were against the investigation?"

"Mainly, I was worried you'd exploit my
family, but yeah, I was jealous they trusted a stranger. Pretty
childish, I guess. You were more serious than I'd been. I'd treated
it like a game of Cops and Robbers."

She pulled the blanket tighter around her
legs. "You never tried to solve the mystery when you got
older?"

"I didn't want to upset my mom again. When I
was twelve, my father told me that she had been five months
pregnant when Diana was killed. She had a miscarriage. It was an
extra rough time for her."

"That's awful. Your poor mom. I like her so
much. She gave me a book on ..." Kris's voice trailed. She was
wading into dangerous territory.

"On what?"

"Grief."

Eric frowned. "Maybe your cousin's murder is
what made Mom trust you. You seem so affected by it, even now. You
must've been close."

She didn't want to talk about this, couldn't
talk about it. "Did I tell you that I spoke to Raquel about Alex
Thaddeus?"

Kris filled him in on Raquel's revelation.
His jaw hardened.

"I can't believe Diana would have an affair,"
he said. "Maybe she's right, Diana was trying to impress her with a
story. Raquel was wild back then."

"Did you tell your parents what Yvonne
said?"

"I mentioned it to Dad. He was skeptical. I
didn't want to upset my mom."

"I guess only Alex Thaddeus knows for
sure."

A long silence settled over them.

"Do you want to stay over?" Eric asked. "It's
miserable out. You could take the bed, of course. I'll take the
couch."

She smiled at the red tint to his cheeks.
"Thanks, I'll take you up on that, but I'll be fine out here. I
don't sleep well, so I'll probably watch TV for awhile."

Kris changed into a pair of his old sweats
and wandered back to the living room. Wind rattled the windows, its
shriek drowning out the television. She folded her arms around the
sweatshirt, wishing the baggy pants fit better. She'd hitched them
up as high as they'd go.

Eric handed her a pillow, his face inches
away. "I wanted to apologize for that kiss the other day. I kind of
sprung that on you."

Her heartbeat rocketed in her chest. "You
don't have to apologize. I liked it."

"Enough for another one?"

"Maybe. It was so long ago, I don't
remember."

His mere presence overwhelmed her, made words
fly out of her mouth. He turned her chin toward him and grazed his
lips to hers. Her knees wobbly, she melted into his embrace. They
wound up against the wall, breathing heavy, clothing disheveled.
Eric stepped back and cupped her waist. She knew he was waiting for
a sign.

Kris straightened her sweatshirt and tucked a
hair strand behind her ear. She had to end this before they made a
mistake. "Good night," she said with great effort.

If Eric was disappointed, he didn't show it.
She appreciated him even more.

"Good night," he said. "If you need anything,
I'll be in the other room."

"Thanks."

He kissed her again and retreated down the
short hallway to his bedroom. Kris stood frozen. She shouldn't have
come here. She wasn't who Eric thought. She wasn't who Nicole had
thought, either. Kris found a movie on cable, preparing herself for
a restless night.

***

"Kris? Kris?"

Her eyes snapped open, the scream ripping
from her throat. She glanced around the dark room, shapes foreign,
distorted by shadows. "No. I'm sorry Nicole ..."

"Kris? Kris?" Someone shook her shoulder. She
gasped.

"Kris." Eric hugged her. Warm. He felt so
warm. He stroked her hair, whispering in her ear. "It's okay.
Everything's gonna be okay."

Reality rushed back to her. She hadn't lasted
through the movie. She had turned off the television and slipped
into unconsciousness. Eric's face fuzzed in and out of focus.

He switched on the lamp. "Want a glass of
water?"

"No."

"What were you dreaming?"

"I don't remember."

"You screamed out ‘Nicole.’ You woke me
up."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Nicole was your cousin, right?
Tell me about her." Eric rubbed her hair again, the gentle strokes
calming her.

"We were the same age," Kris said. "Our
families were close. We lived in the same neighborhood."

"That must've been fun."

"It was. Lots of fun." Tears spilled down her
cheeks. Eric traced one with his fingertip.

"My mother told me your cousin was the girl
who was killed by a neighbor," he said in a hushed voice. "I
remember hearing about it when I was a kid. She went to a different
school, but it still shook up all my friends. It was awful."

He wasn't wearing a shirt, just sweatpants.
She must've scared the hell out of him.

"I’d rather not discuss it," Kris said.

"I want to help."

Kris felt the words surging to her throat,
but she couldn't tell him. Not now. Not ever. "You are helping,
just by being here. I don't want to be alone."

She pressed her lips to Eric's, first softly
then more urgent. He responded without hesitation, crushing his
mouth against hers. Kris dug her nails into his shoulders and the
smooth contoured muscles of his chest. He gently laid her back and
nibbled her ear, working a sensuous trail down her neck.

He glided down the zipper of her hooded
sweatshirt and skimmed his thumb across her belly. She closed her
eyes, arching as his hand slipped upward with agonizing slowness.
Her stomach rose and fell as his fingers splayed over her heart.
Kris's breathing quickened into a pant, every nerve ending
igniting.

His eyes moved up to her, communicating
desire. "I care about you, Kris. I was happy when you showed up
tonight. I was afraid you didn't feel the same way about me."

"I do."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Stop talking."

Kris reached behind his head and pulled him
down. Her thoughts scattered as she banished Nicole's disapproving
ghost to the dim recesses of her mind.

Chapter 16

25 Years Ago Today

A sparkling new aluminum-lettered sign is
placed in front of the Fremont Daily News building.

K
ris stretched out in
the rumpled bed she and Eric had shared the previous night. She
inhaled the rich roast scent of coffee, listening to his footsteps
across the kitchen floor. Rubbing her eyes, she stared at the
digital alarm clock on the nightstand.

It couldn't be 10:30. She never slept that
late. Kris blushed, remembering the slow caress of Eric's hands
over her body. It had been nothing like her previous empty
encounters. She'd had a short promiscuous phase in college, using
men to fill the void. Once the chasm expanded, Kris pushed away the
opposite sex, until Eric Soares.

She scooped her clothes off the bureau, where
Eric must've folded them, and dressed hurriedly. Eric had grown up
in a family ravaged by grief and survived the consequences.

They were kindred spirits.

Kris found him near the stove, frying bread
in foamy butter. Damp comb grooves slicked his hair. Instant
shyness glued her in her tracks.

Eric set a yellow-streaked bowl into the sink
and planted a lingering kiss on her lips. He tasted of mint
mouthwash and cinnamon. "You're not a health nut, are you? I'm
making my special French toast."

"It smells delicious." Her face aflame, Kris
shuffled to the window. Sunlight shimmered over the snow enveloping
the parking lot. The sky couldn't have been deeper blue.

"Have any plans today?" Eric asked.

"To call your grandmother and firm up her
quotes for the story. Maybe drop by your parents' house. Irene told
me they have some of Diana's paintings."

"I've seen them in the storage room. I could
take you if you want."

"Only if it's no trouble. I don't want to
waste your time if you've got something better to do." Kris bit her
lip, which felt naked without her standard shade of Plum Passion.
She was treating him like a stranger.

"Nothing except correct papers. That can
wait. We'll pick up your car, then stop by your place so you can
get changed."

During breakfast, Kris loosened up a little.
Eric made a mean French toast. He’d sandwiched the bread together,
stuffing it with apples and sour cream, then dusted on
confectionery sugar.

She looked across the table at him. "This
tastes great. You must take after your mom and grandmother."

"I do okay. Luckily, they send me
leftovers."

"Does being an only child make you closer to
your parents?"

"We're close, but my dad and I used to argue
a lot. He wanted to be a musician. When I was a kid, he had me
playing every instrument. It got to be a chore."

"That's right, he was in a band. He must be
proud of you."

"He'd be prouder if I took it more
seriously," Eric said. "In college, he told me that my friends were
holding me back. He pressured me into lead vocals, and you know how
that turned out. That's why I quit submitting to publishers. Dad
would get more disappointed with the rejections than I did.
Finally, I told him that he had to stop living his life through
me."

"How did you get interested in teaching?"

"I planned to study music in college, but my
high school band teacher suggested combining it with an education
major. After I graduated, he had an opening for an assistant and my
old principal gave me a job. Mom was relieved I wouldn't be touring
the country in a run-down van. Dad wasn't thrilled, though."

"That's too bad."

Eric pushed back his chair and started
clearing the table. "I always thought there would've been less
pressure if I'd had a brother or sister, but I might've been
jealous with another kid around. Even my mom and Diana had sibling
rivalry. Mom felt left out that Diana and her father were so close.
That Diana shared his talent for art."

Funny, she'd assumed Diana would envy Cheryl,
not the other way around.

"I can sympathize," Kris said. "My mother
favors my sister over me. She's buddy-buddy with Holly, but doesn't
know what to say to me."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know. She and Holly have stuff in
common, I guess. Mom and I don't." Kris rose and slid the orange
juice into the refrigerator.

Eric brushed his fingers over her cheekbone.
"About last night ..."

Her heart gave a tight squeeze. "Look, let's
keep this low-key around your parents."

"Of course, but maybe we should mention that
we're dating. We don't want them to think we're sneaking around.
They both like you, so don't worry."

"It's just ... I'm not usually like that. I
don't know what came over me. I hope you haven't lost respect for
me."

"It was unusual for me, too, but it wasn't a
one-night stand, Kris. I want it to be much more." His voice
thickened. "But I can't deny that you drive me crazy."