Chapter
27
 

Delaney O’Connor cursed softly while he fiddled with the tangled cord of his telephone. They can put a man on the moon, why can’t they make a telephone cord that doesn’t wrap itself into a little plastic ball?

“Pauline . . .” he grumbled as she entered the room on quiet feet.

She smiled and removed one end of the cord from the socket that fit into the handset, let the cord dangle free until it was straight, then plugged it back in. Without so much as looking at him, she placed a stack of mail on the center of his desk and said, “Peter called while you were on your last call and wanted to know if he could move up the two o’clock meeting. He’s running a bit late today.”

Delaney responded with a sort of half grunt, half nod, and Pauline glanced at her watch.

“Ben will be here in ten minutes. Shall I have coffee brought in for him?”

“Please.” Delaney nodded and sank into his chair. “And thank you, Pauline. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pauline smiled her ever patient neither do I smile and left the room as quietly as she had entered it.

Delaney managed to remain in his chair for almost three entire minutes before the tension wound tightly around his gut and compelled him to walk it off. He grabbed his cane and began to pace.

For the twentieth time, he flipped open the newspaper that had been express-mailed to him from his London office just the week before. The photo at the top of page five had caused the initial onset of restlessness that had kept him awake every night since he’d first seen it. The camera had captured two handsome men, a beautiful dark-haired woman between them, leaning against the fence right before the start of the British Grand Prix. It was the caption that had stirred such unease within him.

“Anthony Chapman, the Twelfth Earl of Stowe, and former Grand Prix driver Bennett Pierce met at Silver-stone on Sunday to announce the formation of Chapman-Pierce Motors, a new venture which will manufacture engines specially designed to hold up under the rigorous strains of Formula One racing. It is rumored that Nigel Vale, formerly of Ferrari, has accepted the challenge of designing what is being touted as the engine that will set the standard on the European circuits into the next millennium. Earl Chapman is pictured above with Mr. Pierce and Miss Zoey Enright, of the United States, who was the guest of Mr. Pierce at Silverstone.”

The London Times had run an article in the business section speculating on how much of the new company’s stock might be made available by the principals, and how much it might sell for. The head of Delaney’s London office had called him immediately upon seeing the article, and had followed the call with a fax. Delaney had read it over and over, wondering how long it would be until Ben himself told him the news. He had felt a perverse sort of pleasure when Ben called him the previous Friday, upon his return to the States, and had asked if he could speak with him first thing on Monday morning.

Well, you knew when he came back that it wasn’t going to be permanent, Delaney reminded himself as he stared at the shifting clouds in an open sky through the plate glass window.

I just didn’t expect him to leave so soon.

Delaney sighed heavily and turned to the portrait of his daughter that hung on the wall behind the sofa. I tried, sweetheart. I tried.

“Ben is here, Delaney.” Pauline told him from the doorway.

“Send him in.”

“Delaney!” Ben entered the room and filled it with his enthusiasm.

“Son. It’s good to see you.” He politely shook Ben’s hand and offered him a seat with a gesture of his hand. “How’s the foot doing?”

“As well as it’s going to do, I guess.” Ben shrugged. “It appears that it’s reached maximum medical improvement. The doctors don’t expect that full range of motion will ever return.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, son. I know how you wanted to return to racing.”

“I’m probably lucky that it’s healed as well as it has. And as for racing, well, I have to accept the fact that those days are behind me now.”

“Well then.” Delaney cleared his throat, wondering how to play this. “Perhaps you’ll be looking for permanent employment now. How would you feel about taking over as president of the HMP? All the reports since you started there have been positive, Ben. Sales have increased, our viewing audience has expanded. The ideas you’ve suggested have all been solid ones—offering credit cards to members to charge directly with us, bringing in more celebrity endorsed products . . . and those interactive segments have been very successful, I am told.”

“Thank you, Delaney. I’ve enjoyed every day that I’ve spent in your employ. I don’t think I expected to, but I can honestly say I’ve enjoyed working at the HMP. It’s a challenging concept, the market is totally without limit. There’s no end to where you can go with it. And you’ve some really fine people working there . . . from the producers to the warehouses.”

“I had heard you had tried out just about every position in every department. Drove the managers crazy.” Delaney chuckled in spite of the sense of disappointment that was welling up inside him.

“It was time well spent.” Ben smiled. “I learned a little about what everyone did. I even took some orders over the phone. It was good experience for me to see how it all fit together.”

“Like the pieces of a puzzle,” Delaney nodded, “or of an engine . . .”

He slid the newspaper across the desk, and without glancing down, Ben knew what story it told.

“I wanted to tell you myself, Delaney. I came here this morning to tell you,” Ben said softly. “I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me that this would have made the papers so soon, though with Tony involved, I should have expected it.”

“This Chapman fellow—”

“—is an old friend. For years we talked about doing something like this, but I had never really given much thought to it. I always figured when I retired, we’d sit down and talk about it, Tony and I. After my accident, he assumed I’d not be returning to driving, so he proceeded to move ahead. I have to admit it came as a bit of a surprise when I found out he’d lined up this whole thing.” Ben tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow, even to his ears.

“Which was when . . .”

“When Zoey and I arrived at his house on the Friday before last.” Ben locked his fingers together in his lap and stared at them with more intensity than they warranted.

“Ah, yes. Zoey.” Delaney nodded.

Ben met his grandfather’s eyes and for the first time since Ben had entered the room, Delaney found reason to be hopeful.

“Now, will you be taking my best sales host from me, Ben?” Delaney tried to inject a light tone into the conversation.

“Zoey?” He frowned, the lines deepening in his brow and around his mouth. “No. She isn’t inclined to leave the HMP, Delaney.”

“I take it you have asked her, then?”

“I did. Zoey really likes what she does, Delaney. She’s exceptionally good at it, and she’s happy. She isn’t ready to give it up. And I can’t blame her. I don’t blame her.” The lines seemed to deepen, and he asked, as if intending to joke, “You wouldn’t be planning on expanding the HMP to the British Isles, would you?”

“Not in the foreseeable future.” Delaney shook his head. “So, when are you planning to take your leave, Ben?”

“As soon as you feel you can let me go.”

“I’ve no intentions of holding you, son. You came here as a favor to me, and I’ll always be grateful for the time you gave me.” He glanced out the window. It simply hurt too much to look at the boy’s face. He loved him too much.

“Delaney, I was more than happy to be here when you needed me. There’s really no way that I can ever repay all you’ve given me over the years. I don’t know if I’ve ever even really thanked you.” Ben leaned closer to the desk. “But I’m thanking you now. I’m grateful for all the years you cared for me when I was having a hard time caring for anyone, including myself. I’m grateful to you for somehow knowing that I would never be whole until I came back to Westboro. I’m thankful to you for finding Zoey for me, though I have no idea how you managed to do that. I’m grateful to you for bringing me back, and I’m grateful to you for letting me leave.”

“I’d keep you with me if I could, son.” Delaney fought the lump in his throat.

“If you asked me to stay, I would.”

“I know that, son. And it’s not a good enough reason to stick around. You have to find your own way, Ben. If going into business with Tony Chapman is what you need to make you happy, then that’s what you have to do.”

“It’s what I want. I mean, it’s what I wanted. . . .” Ben looked thoughtful for a long moment. “It’s what we planned on. . . .”

“Then it’s what you must do. A man has to follow his dreams, Ben,” Delaney said softly.

“Thank you for understanding that, and for supporting my decision.”

Both men rose from their seats at the same moment. Delaney leaned on his cane and walked around the desk to where his grandson stood.

“You’ll always have my understanding and my support, son,” Delaney told him, then added, “and my love.”

“I love you, too, Delaney.” Ben embraced his grandfather and held on for a long time.

“Well, then,” Delaney said, when he could finally speak. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Don’t worry.” Ben patted him on the back, “I’ll be a regular visitor to Lannings Corner. I’m leaving the company, but I’ll be seeing you on a regular basis. And besides, I’m not giving up Zoey.”

“I’m glad to hear that, son. She’s one in a million.” Delaney walked him toward the door.

“She certainly is.” Ben paused before he walked through it. “I’ll give you a call before I leave.”

“When do you think that will be?”

“As soon as you can replace me.”

“I’ll send Peter down to fill in for the time being, so that should not be a problem.” Delaney hung on to Ben’s elbow for just a moment longer. “When would you like to leave?”

“I’d like to leave by next week, then, if you’re sure.” Ben took the old man’s hand. “Tony found a building he’d like to lease for the factory. He wants to produce all the parts right there in England.”

“You wouldn’t be looking for investors, now, would you?” Delaney asked.

“I think Tony’s got that covered, but I’ll ask him. I don’t know if any company ever has enough starting capital. Maybe we can work out something, if you’re sure you’re interested.”

“I definitely am interested.” Delaney nodded.

“Then we’ll be in touch.” Ben paused, then hugged his grandfather again, briefly this time, but it was still a hug.

“Have a safe trip.” Delaney called as Ben headed for the elevator. “And Ben . . .”

“Yes?”

“If you ever want your old job back, all you need to do is ask.”

*  *  *

“You can still change your mind, you know. It isn’t too late,” Ben whispered in Zoey’s ear.

“You have the damnedest timing, Ben Pierce.” She leaned back against the pillows, wrapping her legs around him to take him with her.

“I thought I’d wait for a weak moment.” He nibbled on her ear.

“I have no weak moments.” She nipped at his chin. “At least, as far as that particular conversation is concerned. And you’re wasting time.”

“Oh, a bit anxious, are we?” His brows slid together in a frown. “You know, it really isn’t ladylike to be quite so insistent, Zoey. As a matter of fact, I think—”

Whatever it was that Ben was thinking at that particular time was lost when she took his earlobe between her lips and her hands went seeking the length of his body.

When she had finished with him—for the time being—she asked, “You were saying something about my lack of inhibitions.”

“Was I?” Ben seemed dazed.

“Something that started with the letter i, I believe,” she sighed and rolled over on him.

“‘Incredible’ was probably the word I was looking for.” He scraped his teeth lightly along the side of her jaw line. “Or maybe it was ay carumba.”

She laughed and kissed him soundly, then snuggled back down against him, closing her eyes tightly to impress every one of these last seconds with him deeply into her heart. The thought of his leaving, even if only for a few weeks, terrified her. How long before the life he would make for himself would consume him and begin to edge her out, bit by bit? How long would it be before a Greta or an Ursula found him at a lonely, vulnerable moment? How many more nights like this would there be for them to share? If she thought about it, she would grow cold inside and her hands would start to quake and she would want to cry, so she would not permit herself to think about it right now. Later—tomorrow, after his plane had taken off and he was safely on his way to England—she would think of it. But when he left, it would be a smiling, confident, understanding Zoey who would be seeing him off, not the sobbing red-eyed woman she would be if she gave in to the tears now.

“I guess it would be overstating my case to remind you that it’s still not too late to change your mind,” he told her the next morning in the shower, taking his sweet time soaping her back. “My grandfather might never forgive me for stealing you away from the HMP, but I’ll take my chances.”

She ignored his plea, however cavalierly it had been delivered. “Do you think Delaney is really all right with your leaving?”

He thought for a moment before responding. “I think he is. At least, if he was upset, he hid it well. As happy as he had been to have me here, he was still supportive of my going into business with Tony.” He turned his back to the steady stream of hot water to rinse off the soap. When he was finished, he stepped out of the way to permit Zoey to rinse her hair. “But it’s been a very good thing, being here.”

“You found something to your liking amidst the rolling hills of Chester County?”

“You could say I found a lot to my liking here.” Ben kissed her shoulder blade before stepping out of the shower and into a large fluffy white bath sheet. He grabbed a second towel and held it open for her to step into. “Everything I love best is here in these rolling hills.’5

“Then why are you moving to England?” Zoey pulled a towel from the rack and blotted her hair with it.

“I’m not moving to England.” He frowned.

“What do you call it?”

“I’m just working there.”

“And living there.”

“I like to think I live here, with you.” He opened the bathroom door and pointed across the room to the tall oak armoire they had found at an antique store three weeks before. Over the past month or so he had spent more and more time at Zoey’s, less and less at Delaney’s condo. They had both fallen in love with the Empire-style piece and thought it would be just the place to hold his clothes, and so they had struggled together to carry it up the narrow steps from her first floor to the second. “My clothes are—”

“Packed, Ben,” she told him flatly. “Most of your things are packed.”

He turned and watched her comb out her straight dark hair.

“Ben, you can call it anything you want, but you will not be living here with me. You’ll be thousands of miles away, living a life that has nothing to do with me.”

“Everything I do has to do with you,” he told her.

“I know you think that, but things change, Ben.”

“That won’t change, Zoey. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone else. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Then why are you leaving me? she wanted to ask, but could not make the words come out. Instead, she said, “I love you, too, Ben. I think I always have. I always will.”

“You could still come with me.”

“You know that I can’t do that. As important as it is for you to have this business with Tony, that’s how important it is for me to be where I am. Maybe more so.” She picked up the hair dryer and held it loosely in her right hand. “You’ve always known who you were, Ben. I never did. It wasn’t until I found this job that all the pieces began to fall into place. I love what I do. I get up in the morning and look forward to going to work. I love the people I work with and the people who call in to talk to me. I love being on camera and I love working behind the scenes with the buyers. I’m good at what I do, Ben. It makes me happy, it’s helped define me. And it took me so long to find myself, that I’m afraid I wouldn’t know who I’d be if I left now. I love you with all my heart, and I hate the thought of your leaving, but just being with you can’t make me what I am.”

“I understand, of course I do. So we’ll just have to make the most of our time together—you know, quality over quantity. And we’ll find a way to work this out. I promise you, it will work out. We’ll spend as much time together as possible, and we will take things one step at a time. But it will work out.”

Ben stood in the doorway, wishing he knew for sure just how.

As did Zoey, when three hours later she stood in the airport, her arms wrapped around her chest, the warmth and strength of his last kiss still fresh on her lips, her face pressed up against the glass as she watched his plane taxi down the runway.

“I’ll be back in two weeks,” he had whispered, “and I’ll miss you every minute of every one of those days.”

“Me too,” she had told him, her bottom lip starting to quiver as he kissed her.

“Don’t worry, Zoey,” he said as he turned to go through the gate. “It’ll be fine. Other people have done this and survived. We will, too.”

She had nodded and forced a smile. “I know.”

And then he was gone. She had started to sniff a little when she realized she didn’t know where on the plane his seat was. She should have asked. She wanted to know if he was by the window, on the side of the plane facing the building, so she would know if she waved, he might see her. A silly thing to think about, she chided herself, but the thought only made the lump in her throat get bigger.

For all the years Zoey had lived here and there, in this city or in that, as she had tried on first one job, then another, she had never been lonely. Alone, yes. Lonely, no. she had never known the meaning of the word until Ben had taken his shirts out of the armoire that morning and packed them in his suitcase. The space looked so empty when she went home and opened the door and stood in front of the handsome piece of furniture as if to measure the space in terms of something more than how many shirts had so recently hung inside. She closed the door quietly and sat on the edge of her bed.

Before Ben, everything had been easier. It didn’t matter if she ate alone or slept alone, watched a movie alone or not. But her daily routine would be different now. Reading the morning paper alone would mean there was no one there to share the outrage over some reported miscarriage of justice or a chuckle over a particularly witty column on the op-ed page. Having someone to share these things, she had only recently begun to discover, was better than not.

And they had shared so much over the past few months—their secrets, their dreams, their fears. In the hush of an early July morning, he had told her why he had stayed away so long, and she had immediately understood. She had told him of her long journey in search of her own place in this world, and he had cheered her for having found it.

She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the pillow on what had become Ben’s side. Knowing it would go unused for two full weeks made the fist in her gut turn and twist just a little. She wondered what he would have said if she had asked him to tell Tony he wasn’t interested in this company he was forming. Or if she had been willing to quit her own job and go with him. She sighed, knowing neither option was right for them.

Ben would be back, every two weeks, Friday through Monday. Every six weeks Zoey would fly to London and spend four days. They had carefully marked it all off on the calendar.

And, she reminded herself, there were lots of people whose relationships survived greater hardships. Whether or not theirs would be one of them remained to be seen.

Only time would tell.