10

Claire Bassett

True to his word, Jonathan asked me out with great persistence. It had become expected and comical.

“Morning, Claire. How about joining me for dinner this weekend?”

“I can’t Jonathan. I’m married, Remember?”

He snapped his fingers like he had just recalled that. “Oh, right. Well, how about lunch?” As if that made it different.

“Sorry. Still married.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to settle for coffee.” He said this as he poured a cup from the office coffeepot and sat beside my desk.

How would he react if one of these days I said yes?

I made the mistake of telling my mother about him.

“Claire, there is absolutely no shame in accepting that invitation. You need to think about yourself and these children. It’s been over a year. Honey, I know this is hard, but you have to accept that Andrew is gone. Go out with this man and flirt a little.” She tilted her head and batted her eyelashes.

“Mother! I’m not going to flirt. Even as a teenager I didn’t flirt.”

“Well then, don’t flirt. But go to dinner with the man. Put him out of his misery.”

In the deepest place, I recognized the reality of her words. My mother had accepted what I could not. Andrew, my husband, my love, was gone, leaving me helpless to do anything about it. Someday I would move on simply because I had no choice. And there might not be a Jonathan waiting in the wings, not one as sweet as he.

The bright sunshine and mild temperatures, a rarity for a western Pennsylvania October, could turn in a heartbeat and bring winter’s forerunner in the form of a blustery day. I grasped the opportunity to be in the fresh air while I still could and took my lunch to an outdoor table near my office. Reading on my Kindle while I ate my sandwich, someone startled me from behind. An unexpected whisper spoke close to my ear. “What’cha reading?”

My hand flew to my heart. “Jonathan, you startled me.”

He slipped into the chair beside mine.

“Well, that’s one way to get your attention. And I guess this is one way to share a meal together.” He held up his brown paper bag.

“You are a determined man.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and said, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Did you fail syntax when you pursued that PhD?”

He kept in character. “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout syntax, but I know lots about sin and tax.”

The eyebrows wiggled again.

He had me laughing now at his silliness. “Why, you are a naughty man.”

“Like I said, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

We resumed eating and changed the conversation to work. New courses would be offered in the spring, and he told me what he would like to teach. Jonathan never took his eyes off of me. They were amazing eyes, drawing me in. I saw kindness and gentleness. The next time he asked, I would say yes. But only to eat. And no promises beyond that.

I didn’t have to wait long. While packing up the remains of my lunch, he reached his hand out to take my litter from me. As I held it out toward him, our hands brushed. He bagged my trash and reached again, taking my hand in his. With slumped shoulders and a long exhale, he asked again. “Dinner, Claire?”

I knew he expected a refusal. My hand felt so good resting in his, the mingling of soft and strength. I had become so comfortable with him I had to resist the urge to touch his face with my free hand.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Saturday?” My question traveled in the slightest whisper. I heard a gasp and knew I’d surprised him.

“Is that a yes?”

I nodded, the start of a grin forming.

He squeezed my hand. “Yes, Saturday.”

I removed my hand and grinned at his childlike pleasure. “I’m late. I need to go back to work.”

I left him sitting there as I walked to the door. Before entering, I glanced back to see Jonathan beaming, still seated at the table.

~*~

Back home, locked in my bedroom, I wondered what in the world I had done. I didn’t regret my decision, but I hadn’t had a date for more years than I could count. I’d been so caught up in the charm of that moment that I didn’t set parameters. This was just dinner—no expectation of a continuing relationship. At some point, I had to make sure he understood.

I didn’t tell my mother about my date. I would tell her before Saturday, but I couldn’t have her fussing and telling me what to wear. I told Jonathan I’d meet him rather than having him pick me up. I couldn’t bring him in to meet my parents like they always required during my teens. That would be too much.

I reached in my nightstand for a pad of paper to begin a grocery list. When I did, my hand landed on the framed picture. I glanced down and had a momentary attack of conscience. I sighed, but I didn’t slide it out and talk with him as I did most nights. Instead, I found my notepad and pushed the drawer shut.

~*~

Thursdays were my day off. On this one, I drove into the city.

Buckled into his car seat, Drew fell asleep the minute we started moving. In a rare carefree mood, I found myself singing along with the car radio, while driving to my old neighborhood to have lunch with friends. I would drive by my home and drink in the sight. It still belonged to me, and I intended to return there some day. I didn’t know how or when, but that had to be part of my plan.

I turned my car into the subdivision with its familiar red brick signs at the entrance bordered by crimson barberry shrubs trimmed into perfectly rounded spheres. I gazed at the homes I had become so accustomed to passing. Doors adorned with fall wreaths, mums bloomed in vivid orange, gold, and russet.

Rebecca, Jan, and Molly were all there when I arrived. A secure play area had been cordoned off in the family room for Drew and three other little ones. We started with hugs all around and rapid-fire greetings about how the kids had grown and what was new.

“We haven’t gotten to know the new neighbors. The kids are in school all day and both parents work, so we don’t see them. I know they’re house hunting. I’ve seen a realtor’s car there a few times.”

My tongue burned with the desire to tell them about Saturday, tell them about Jonathan, his humor and the attention he showed me. I wanted them to know I looked forward to something rather than always feeling their pity and concern. I would have loved to pull up the school’s website and show them how attractive he was. But it was a guilty excitement, so I held my words in check.

When we began to clean up after lunch, Molly pulled me aside. “No word about Andrew?”

I had already provided a cursory update. Why was she bringing it up again? “No. nothing.”

I didn’t want to revisit this.

“Claire, this is probably nothing, but Jason saw someone who looked a lot like Andrew sitting on a city bench downtown, but he couldn’t be sure.”

I squinted with narrowing eyes. “Jason knows Andrew too well. How could he not be sure?”

“Well, he was a little distance away, and…and the man he saw looked a lot thinner and, well, not as well groomed.” She held something back.

“What are you saying, Molly?”

“The man he saw appeared scrubby and carried a backpack with him.” She flapped her hand forward, a gesture to dismiss it as nonsense. “I’m sure it wasn’t him, just some resemblance. We better go help with cleanup.”

I didn’t play the radio on my ride back up north. No song or excitement joined me for the return trip. With a knot in my stomach, my mind filtered this new information. Homeless? That’s what Molly didn’t say. It couldn’t be possible. I had visualized him with a new identify. I had considered a new woman. I had even imagined him dead. But I never thought of him living among the homeless. It had to be wrong. Jason would have known Andrew.

I pulled my car into the driveway, surprised by how fast the trip had gone. My mind had been so distracted it left me with no recollection of the ride. I met Isabella’s bus before going inside.

Mom sat at the table, doing a jigsaw puzzle. “Did you enjoy your visit? Did you see everyone you wanted to see?”

“Yeah, it was nice to catch up a little.” No part of me wanted to chat with anyone right now. Please, a little solitude.

“Mom, I have a headache and I’m exhausted. I’m going to put Drew down for a nap and take one myself if Bella can stay with you.”

“You go rest, dear. Oh, and take some Tylenol first. That should help.” She tapped the chair beside her. “Come on up, sweet Bella. Help me find some puzzle pieces.”

Drew had played hard and must have been exhausted. He fell right to sleep. I climbed into my own bed, a rarity for me during the daylight hours, Molly’s news central in my brain.

Molly and Jason lived across the street from us for six years. We had our first child one year apart. So many evenings we shared each other’s porch to catch up on life. Molly and I went to Pilates together. Jason and Andrew hit the golf course a few times each year. Jason could not have seen Andrew without recognizing him. That had to be an error. How well I understood the desire to see Andrew’s face in everyone I passed. But it just wasn’t so.

Andrew loved Jason. He would never have let him pass by without speaking. But the Andrew I knew would never have left me. I reread the note. I had smoothed it as best I could. No matter how disheartening, it was the last thing I received from my husband.