“If he loved you . . .”
“No.” Jenny wouldn’t consider it. Besides, it was a moot point. The very idea that he’d propose was ludicrous. He was in town only a few days, exactly how many he had yet to tell her. When he left she’d ride out to the airport with him and see him off. But the mere thought of Trey heading back to Montana produced an emptiness she couldn’t shake.
“Jenny?” Michelle broke into her musings.
She smiled weakly and resumed her task, but her mind wasn’t on it.
“Of course if you married Trey, you wouldn’t necessarily need to live in New York. There are—”
“Are you suggesting I return to Montana?” Jenny demanded. “What are you trying to tell me, Michelle? That it’s time I admitted the truth, that I’m a no-talent wannabe and that I’ll never make it on Broadway or, for that matter, any place else?” She was desperate to breathe by the time she’d finished.
Visibly shocked by Jenny’s outburst, Michelle stood frozen and stared at her.
Jenny sagged into the chair. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I didn’t either,” Michelle whispered. “I believe in you as strongly as I do in myself.”
“I know.” They’d been each other’s cheering squad for too long for Jenny to doubt her friend now. Over the last three years they’d been through so much together. Jenny knew Michelle wished her nothing but unbridled success. Anything else would have been completely out of character.
The phone rang just then.
The last few days had been a tense time for them both. Michelle was due to hear the results of her second audition with John Peterman. If it were in her power, Jenny would award her friend the role, but it wasn’t.
“You want me to get it?” she asked Michelle.
“No, I will,” Michelle answered, and walked over to the wall phone. She reached for it and paused, her hand inches from the receiver. “You get it, all right?” she asked, and moved away.
It pealed a third time before Jenny could reach it.
“I should be the one to answer,” Michelle said abruptly and ripped the receiver off the hook. “This is Michelle Jordan,” she greeted cheerfully, as if she had been sitting idly by the phone without a care in the world. She listened for a moment, then, “Well, hello,” she said seductively, eyeing Jenny. “And how are you?”
A second pause while Jenny was left to wonder who was at the other end of the line.
“Of course. . . . No, it’s no problem whatsoever.” She pressed the mouthpiece against her shoulder. “It’s Trey. He wants to talk to you. Do you want me to tell him you’re here, or would you rather I made up some excuse and told him you were out for the day?”
Fourteen
Emilio was absent from school the following afternoon. Brynn’s heart sank. She couldn’t very well cancel the most important test this term because one student hadn’t bothered to show.
Emilio had left school the day before without returning to class, but when Brynn had tried to reach him later, the phone had gone unanswered. With her own commitments, she hadn’t been able to seek out Roberto, nor had she been able to talk to him.
Her day felt incomplete without some form of contact with Roberto. Little by little she’d opened her heart to Emilio’s older brother. There was such passion in Roberto, such intensity. The other men she’d dated had been neither hot nor cold. Nothing excited them. Not injustice. Not good fortune. Not tickets to a play-off football game. Brynn had been left wondering what would happen if any of them ever won the lottery.
There was no doubt in her mind, however, where Roberto stood on any number of subjects. He rarely hesitated to make his opinions known. Although she often disagreed with him, she appreciated the fact that he was willing to take a stand. He cared deeply for those he loved. That was what had attracted her to him in the beginning.
Every time he kissed her the experience left her shaken. One thing was certain: Roberto Alcantara would never be a lukewarm lover.
“Is everyone ready for their midterms?” she asked the class. Standing in front of the room, she cradled the test papers against her chest.
A low rumble of responses came from her students. As the papers were being handed out, Brynn noted that Emilio wasn’t the only student absent that day. Modesto’s desk was conspicuously empty. His condition remained listed as serious, but from what she’d heard he would soon be upgraded to satisfactory.
Mike Glasser was gone as well. That disappointed her. She’d tried hard to bring the loner out of his shell, but nothing had worked. His attitude baffled her. When she looked directly at him, she assumed his mind was a thousand miles away, yet when she quizzed him, he knew the answers. The boy was keenly intelligent, but he refused to apply himself.
Brynn walked around the room while her class took the exam. This was by far the most important test she’d given, and she’d worked long hours composing the essay questions. Her students’ responses were the best way she had of gauging how well she’d done her job.
The class discussions were thought-provoking and often heated. Brynn was thrilled that she could make her students care about what had happened in the world fifty years earlier. She felt it was important for them to do more than memorize dates and names.
Her goal was for them to look back at history and learn from the past. She wanted them to gain insight and perspective from a journal written by a teenage Jewish girl, who, despite the years separating their worlds, wasn’t unlike them. It excited Brynn when her students recognized that they shared the same dreams, the same aspirations, as Anne Frank.
More important, Brynn wanted her students to reason through this material and willingly share their feelings with her. A number of the test questions had no right or wrong answers. All she wanted was for each of her students to reflect on this time period in American and European history and then express their thoughts.
When Brynn strolled past Suzie’s desk, she was surprised to discover that the girl’s paper was blank.
Unwilling to break the concentration of any of the others, Brynn resisted the urge to ask Suzie if something was wrong. She noticed that the girl wore a maternity top and wondered if anyone else recognized Suzie was pregnant.
Pen in hand, Suzie briefly acknowledged Brynn, then bent forward and started to write.
As Brynn walked past Emilio’s empty desk, she couldn’t help wondering what had kept him from class. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known about this test or realized its significance. Brynn had been talking about it for several days, reviewing the material so it would be fresh in their minds. Now and again she’d purposely screw up the dates and would take pride when someone, often a student she wouldn’t expect to know the difference, would correct her.
After class had been dismissed, Brynn quickly reviewed the test results and was pleased with what she read. Because she was anxious to talk to Emilio, she left school as soon as she could without checking for messages. She rarely received anything more than the dittoed sheets the school printed for all staff members. With the advent of Christmas, and most all the classes winding down, she didn’t expect anything of real importance.
Eager to see Roberto, Brynn walked to his garage first. The sky was dark with thick gray clouds the color of tempered steel, and the wind added an extra chill to the late afternoon. Nevertheless, Brynn was happy. She’d had her first real date with Roberto, and even though their evening had ended abruptly, their time together had proved what she’d long suspected. Roberto cared about her the same way she did about him.
Brynn’s parents were anxious for her to come home for Christmas, but she’d already decided against making the trip. She hadn’t told her mother, and wouldn’t, but she preferred to stay right here in New York with Roberto. She’d mentioned him in passing several times, and in the last telephone conversation, she’d confessed she was strongly attracted to him.
The bell chimed over the doorway when she entered his garage. She rubbed her hands together to chase away the chi
ll. No one greeted her.
“Is anyone here?” she called out, thinking it odd that Roberto hadn’t locked up the garage.
A minute later Roberto appeared, dressed in greasy overalls. He wiped his hands clean on a rag, his face devoid of emotion. He nodded once and greeted her without revealing any pleasure in seeing her. “Hello, Brynn.”
None of the warmth or welcome she’d felt on their dinner date was apparent. Puzzled by his attitude, Brynn felt like walking out the door and coming back to try this all over again.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
He shook his head. “You tell me.”
“Well . . .” Baffled, she wasn’t sure what had happened. “Emilio wasn’t in class this afternoon.”
“Yes, I know.”
“There was an important test.”
He shrugged as though to say that was of no importance to him.
“Is Emilio ill?”
“No.”
“Then where was he?”
“Running errands for me,” Roberto informed her briskly.
“You mean to say you knew he was purposely skipping classes and you let him?” Anger swelled inside her, but she did a good job of maintaining her composure.
“Yes. Emilio announced this morning that he didn’t feel like going to school, and I told him the choice was his.”
This was a discussion they’d had in the past, and they’d always ended up arguing about the importance of education. Nothing she said would change Roberto’s opinion, and certainly nothing he said would alter her feelings.
“I want to talk to Emilio,” she said, unwilling to be drawn into a verbal battle neither one of them could win.
“He isn’t here,” Roberto continued stoically.
“When do you expect him back?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I don’t know.”
Brynn could see that discussing Emilio would be a losing proposition. She looked past Roberto, hoping to gain perspective on what was happening between them.
“How was your day?” she asked in an effort to put the conversation back on an even keel.
“Busy.” He glanced over his shoulder as though to say there was plenty left for him to do and her silly questions were keeping him from his chores.
Brynn wasn’t sure what to do or say. She could play cute word games and dance around the issue, but that would solve nothing. They’d done all that before.
“If you’ve got something to say to me, Roberto, I’d appreciate it if you came out and said it.” She stiffened, knowing instinctively what was on his mind.
A flicker of surprise flashed in and out of his eyes. He hadn’t anticipated her being this direct, she guessed. Normally she wasn’t. Whenever it was possible she avoided confrontation, but she’d learned that in dealing with Roberto, she was better off taking the offensive.
From the first time since she’d arrived, he hesitated.
“Let me say it for you, then,” she offered. “You’ve come to some monumental decision about us.”
“Brynn—”
“Let me finish,” she insisted, forcing herself to sound light and airy, as though his attitude didn’t affect her one way or the other. “You’ve decided that it’d probably be best for us not to see each other again. Am I right?”
His jaw had gone white. “Something along those lines, but I don’t think now is the time to discuss it.”
“It seems to me this is as good a time as any,” she responded with a flippant air. “You know what they say about there being no time like the present.”
“Perhaps, but—”
“Why, Roberto?” she asked simply. Her chest tightened, and this time she couldn’t hide the pain in her voice. “Did I do something unforgivable? Something so terrible that you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“No,” he said harshly, and briefly closed his eyes. “For what it’s worth . . .” He stopped himself, then started again, his eyes as gentle as she’d ever seen them. He didn’t want to hurt her, that much was evident.
“Whatever it is,” she whispered forcefully, “we can work it out.”
He shook his head. “I never intended to become emotionally involved with you. We’re both intelligent enough to realize we’re all wrong together.” He clenched the muscles along the side of his jaw, and when he spoke his voice was filled with regret. “I blame myself. Matters should never have gone this far.”
“What am I supposed to do? Forget I ever met you? When I bump into you on the street, do you want me to turn and walk the other way?”
“No . . .”
“I’ve never been the type of person who can turn my feelings on and off at will. Tell me what it is you want from me. Just tell me and I promise I’ll walk out that door and it’ll be as though we’d never met.”
For a long time he didn’t answer her.
“I’m waiting,” she told him. “I’m not a difficult person to talk to, Roberto. At least others don’t seem to have a problem. Tell me,” she said again, more emphatically this time, “what is it you want.”
His hands clenched into fists. “I want you to leave New York,” he said, his voice strained. “You don’t belong here. You and all this nonsense about teaching these kids to wish for the impossible. Try filling Modesto’s head with that garbage now, why don’t you? He’s fighting for his life. We’re light-years away from anything more than survival. You’re beating your head against a stone wall, only you haven’t learned that yet. Personally I don’t want to be the one who’s left to pick up the pieces when you do.”
His words ripped open her heart, and just then she found it impossible to reply.
“There’ll be someone else for you soon enough,” he continued.
“Someone else?” She couldn’t believe he would suggest she was the type to leap from one relationship to the next in some crazy form of emotional hopscotch.
“Who you date is your own business. All I ask is that you leave me out of it.”
It, she reasoned, meant her life. He wanted nothing more to do with her.
Had she possessed a sliver of pride, Brynn would have turned and walked out. Instead she forced herself to stay, even when she knew that it meant more pain.
Her emotions battled with each other. She wanted to strike back at him, hurt him the same way he’d hurt her. And in the next millisecond she longed to throw herself in his arms and beg him to change his mind.
In the end she did neither. From some reserve of strength she knew nothing about, she scrounged up a genuine, heartfelt smile. “You’re right,” she told him, “there will be someone else.” In time. Then, because she couldn’t make herself leave without touching him, Brynn gently placed her hand against his cheek.
A muscle leapt in his face as he steeled himself against her.
“Good-bye, Roberto. Godspeed.”
She dropped her hand and was about to turn away when he reached out and grabbed hold of her shoulder and whirled her around. Crushed against him as she was, Brynn buried her face in his chest and clung. His kiss was hard and urgent, and she knew the moment he released her that he regretted ever having touched her.
“Good-bye, Brynn Cassidy. Have a good life.”
She nearly sobbed aloud, but she managed to hold the emotion inside. “You too, Roberto Alcantara.”
“How can you stand there and do nothing?” Goodness demanded of Shirley. “Roberto should have his head examined.”
“Personally, I agree, but unfortunately he has a free will to decide whatever he wants.”
“Free will? I’m telling you right now that’s the crux of the problem with humans. They can do anything they want, and they’ve let it go to their heads.”
“That’s the whole tamale in a nutshell,” Shirley concurred, then scratched her head, wondering why that sounded wrong.
“I have half a mind to shake up this city.”
Shirley wished Mercy were with her. She’d seen Goodness in this mood before, and it was downright frigh
tening. The last time had been in Bremerton, Washington, when Goodness had gotten her hand on an aircraft carrier. The naval command was still trying to figure that one out.
“Goodness, are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
“Someone needs to shake up this town.”
“Personally,” Shirley said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, “I wouldn’t advise you to mess with New York.”
Goodness appeared unconvinced. “Texas frightens the wings off me, but I can handle New York.”
“I still don’t think this is a good idea.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to do.”
Shirley didn’t want to know. Oh my, where was Mercy when she really needed her? When Goodness was in this frame of mind, she was more than Shirley could handle alone.
Shirley glanced around her, searching for help.
“Staten Island.”
“No,” Shirley cried in a panic, leaping in front of her friend, “not the Statue of Liberty!”
Goodness pretended not to notice her, which frightened Shirley all the more. “Let me see,” Goodness mumbled, “what could I do to jar a few folks into realizing the error of their ways?”
“Don’t you think we should talk this out first?” Shirley asked hopefully. “I mean, just because matters are going poorly with my assignment, there’s no reason to take it out on the entire city. There’re plenty of good things happening, too.”
Goodness hesitated, and hope surged through Shirley that she might be able to reason her friend out of pulling some disastrous stunt.
“I’m sure everything must be going well with Hannah and Joshua.” As soon as she spoke, Shirley recognized the error of her ways.
“As a matter of fact, they’re not going well at all.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Hannah and Carl have set their wedding date for June sixteenth.”
“But I thought . . . didn’t you say that Hannah had fallen in love with Joshua Shadduck?”