Chapter Five --

 

“Need is such a strong word,” I replied. “And I thought I made it clear earlier that I really am not interested.”

“Just give me a chance,” he said, his voice low, almost humble. Not an easy task for a man like the ever-confident Tom to achieve.

“I’ve moved on. You should, too.”

“I want to make amends for hurting you,” he insisted.

“It’s really not necessary,” was my reply. By now, it was time to add my pasta to the sauce and let the last few minutes of cooking absorb all those great flavors. “I’ve got to go.”

“Just half an hour of your time,” he called out, as I was pulling the phone away from my ear. I pushed the “end” button and got back to what mattered most, my linguini with white clam sauce.

Despite the delay of Tom’s call, everything was delicious, and I sat there enjoying the experience. I even decided to pour myself a glass of pino grigiot. When the last remnants of the sauce were mopped up by the baguette rounds, I flipped the channel to “Jeopardy” while I cleaned up the kitchen.

As the final question popped up on the screen, the doorbell rang. I looked through to the living room and saw Tom’s rental car sitting in the driveway. Apparently, he assumed “no” meant I was playing hard to get. It looked like he was going to keep trying until he understood I really wasn’t interested.

I crossed the short distance to the front door, opened it, and stepped outside. I really didn’t want to let Tom into the house. There was no guarantee I’d be able to get him out. I felt uncomfortable having him there, looking around at my new life and trying to figure out an angle that would enable him to gain entry through the slightest of cracks. He had always been an opportunist, playing all the cards he had to win. I was annoyed at the current intrusion, physical and emotional. It was so Tom-like, persistent, demanding, and even arrogant. He greeted me with great expectation, fully utilizing that boyish charm, so I cut him off in mid-sentence.

“As I’ve already explained, Tom, I’m not interested,” I insisted. I wanted him to know there was no wavering on my part, no weakness of the knees or the heart. The bridge had been burned and it would not be rebuilt. “Please don’t come back here.”

“You can’t mean that, Kimmy. You’re just still angry with me for my selfish behavior.”

“No,” I disagreed. “The anger is long gone. It’s over. So is our relationship. We don’t have any connection anymore. Let’s just say our final farewells, before this turns ugly.”

“If I make you that angry, you must still have feelings for me,” he smiled. He took a step closer. I moved to the right as he tried to brush up against me.

“You’re making me angry because you’re not listening,” I warned him. “I’m telling you I don’t want you in my life.”

“And I’m trying to tell you that I made a huge mistake. I never should have let you go. You were one of the best things that ever happened to me.” Now he was pleading with me, trying to find a button to push that would get him what he wanted.

“You know what?” I looked him right in the eye. “I don’t think our relationship ever really was all that terrific. I think you got what you wanted out of it, a romantic tryst that gave you the freedom to come and go as you please while you were going through your divorce. You weren’t looking for a healthy meal. You were looking for dessert. I was the cake with the icing, and when my mother was sick and needed me, you found a bread pudding that looked tastier. It was never about loving me. It was about your own pleasure.”

“How can you say that?” Tom looked utterly shocked, and for a fleeting second, I almost fell for it. But then he gave himself away. “I was in pain! I was suffering! I gave you what I could, under the circumstances!”

“Well, that wasn’t what I needed and it’s still not, so let’s end this conversation here. I really don’t want to see you again.” I turned to the door and that’s when it happened. Tom’s left hand gripped my shoulder and propelled me forward, while his right turned the door handle, gaining access to my world. I felt myself stumbling as I crossed the threshold.

“That has to be the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me!” he yelled. “You are a very cold-hearted woman, Kimberly Sheffield!”

“Get out!” I shouted back. My heart pounded hard inside my chest as my voice climbed several octaves. “Get out of my house right now!”

I shook myself free of his grasp, pulled myself up to my full height, and prepared myself for battle. Tom seemed to recognize the futility of waging war with me. He took a deep breath as his demeanor deflated, and he sat himself down in Adelaide’s favorite wing chair.

“Wow,” he sighed. “Am I really that awful? Was I really such a bad guy when we were together?”

I stood out of reach, wary of trusting him. A sense of genuine remorse seemed to come over him. He kept his eyes on the fringe of Adelaide’s Aubusson rug as it sat on the polished wood floor. As the minutes ticked on, he showed no signs of leaving.

“Tom?” I said his name and he looked up hopefully. “It’s time for you to go. I mean it.”

“Okay, you win. I give up.” He leaned forward in his chair. “I’ll go.”

He got as far as the front door before he turned back to me. For a moment, I thought I saw the flash of a diabolical gleam in those eyes of his, but then it was gone. He gave me a sad smile.

“If we’re really over, Kim, can I have something of mine back?”

“What?” Maybe this was the real reason he came to see me. Now it was beginning to make sense.

“Do you remember that silver chicken spice box I brought you back from Germany?”

“The spice box?” I did a quick inventory of the gifts he had given me while we were together. The spice box was something he had made a big fuss over when he presented it to me. Done in 800 French silver, it was unique and charming. I had fallen in love with it the moment I saw it. Why was Tom asking about it now?

“If it’s really over between us,” he said, “really over, I’d like that back. It has great sentimental value for me.”

“I thought you bought it at a flea market in Frankfurt just before you gave it to me.” He had some nerve asking for that back. It’s not like it was an engagement ring.

“I did,” he agreed, nodding. “But it was just like one my grandmother had when I was a child. I’d like it back.”

“It was a gift, not a loan,” I pointed out curtly.

“Still, I’d like it back.” He moved towards me, and for a moment, I felt a menacing chill. How serious was he about the chicken spice box? “It’s very important that I have it.”

“You can’t have it right now. I’m in the middle of having my things shipped up here.” Don’t ask me why, but I flat out lied. I’m not normally given to deception, but something about Tom’s manner urged me on. That chicken was sitting in my bedroom, on a shelf with some other trinkets. Part of me wanted to keep that silver chicken spice box just because he had given it to me. It was a consolation gift for the pain he caused me when he left. And part of me also wanted to keep it from him, to pay him back for coming back and playing on my emotions. But most of all, I wanted to know why that silver chicken spice box was so important to him. Until I had the answer to that, I was holding onto it.

“When will you get it for me?” Tom said, a tone of urgency slipping into his voice.

“My tenant is making arrangements for me. When my things arrive, I’ll send it to you. Just write down your address.” I took a note pad and a pen off the kitchen counter and handed it to Tom.

“Thanks,” he said, jotting the information on the paper. “You’re sure there’s nothing for us to rekindle?”

“Positive,” I responded.

“Too bad,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I still find you irresistible.”

Before I could do anything, Tom reached out and kissed my lips, holding my face in his hands. Memories flooded my head as I felt the familiar lips, the last lips I had kissed, moving over mine with a penetrating hunger. I pulled away, feeling overwhelmed.

“Whoa!” I put my hand out, to prevent Tom from coming after me. “No!”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?” There was a small smirk on those deceitful lips. He seemed quite proud of himself. “See you.”

With that, he was out the door in a few giant steps, bounding to his car with a spring in his stride. What had happened that made him so happy? I didn’t think it was the kiss. Was it that I promised to return the chicken spice box to him?

Even after all this time, I still didn’t understand Tom. He always seemed to have a hidden agenda. Now, with the passing years, it was easier for me to see just how manipulative Tom really was. Thank goodness I didn’t marry him, as we had planned. It would have been a complete disaster. We never really clicked as a couple. It was pure animal attraction driving that relationship. How did it start? What stopped me from seeing him for what he really was?

As Tom drove away, I pulled the drapes in every room, feeling incredibly vulnerable. I didn’t trust him not to double-back. Something had changed between us. Any semblance of trust had vaporized when Tom forced his way into Adelaide’s house.

I waited a good half hour before I went to my bedroom and reached up to the shelf where that silver chicken spice box sat. I held it in my hands, trying to determine why it was so important. It didn’t seem different to my untrained eye. When Tom first gave it to me, I had had it appraised. The written estimate for replacement value was under two thousand dollars. Maybe it was more valuable now. Maybe that’s why he wanted it back.

This weighed on my mind well into the next day. I forced myself to think about our relationship. Tom was the one man in my life who didn’t fit into my world. I always was expected to fit into his. He was never an easy man to love. A little too dangerous. A little too daring. A little too selfish. What had drawn us together? In and out of the hours, tiny snippets of memories came sneaking back into my mind. We were guests at Delia and Bennie’s wedding. He begged me to dance. My reluctance only seemed to feed the fire, making me even more attractive. He would not take no for an answer. He kept asking me if I knew how attractive and irresistible I was to men like him. Unfortunately, he forgot to inform me he was still very much married. I found out six months into our relationship, when he announced that he was finally legally separated. By then, our relationship had progressed to the point where Tom wanted to move in. I hesitated, in part due to the shock of finding out he had deceived me.

I passed the morning working on my cookbook outlines. At eleven, the phone rang. It was Barry.

“Kim!” He sounded like he was crying. “Something terrible happened!”

“What?” I gave him my full attention. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s horrible! Jim was assaulted! He’s in the hospital!”

“What happened?” I asked, dreading the details.

“Jim got your key in the mail this morning, so he decided he was going to go over to your storage unit and take a look. The guy from the moving company was supposed to meet him there, so they could talk about what size truck was needed for your stuff and to sign a contract.”

There was a long pause. I could hear Barry sobbing in the background. How bad was it? Would Jim survive?

“Sorry,” he apologized, trying to catch his breath. He cleared his throat and steadied himself before going on. “The moving man found him on the floor. He was...very bloody. The police said that he had been assaulted with a stun gun and beaten with some kind of club. He has a concussion, a couple of broken ribs, a broken arm, and a fractured jaw.”

“Oh, Barry,” I cried. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“The police said it looked deliberate. They have the surveillance tapes. Kim, three guys went right up to your unit and went in. They were in there for almost twenty minutes. They didn’t leave with anything, so the police don’t think robbery was a motive. They were dressed in black masks.”

I thought about what I kept in the unit. There were a few family heirlooms and some decorator knock-offs I paid an arm and a leg for, but most of the items had only sentimental value to me. Hardly anything that would appeal to a gang of thieves, especially a violent one.

There was shock and disbelief in Barry’s voice. I understood why. Jim wasn’t the kind of man who made enemies. The thought that three men would intentionally brutalize him was overwhelming.

“This is unbelievable,” I said, feeling completely and utterly helpless.

“Tell me about it! The police need to talk to him. They will if...if he ever wakes up again.” The thought of losing Jim this way was frightening to me. I could only imagine what it was like for Barry.

“Call me. It doesn’t matter what time of day or night. Anything you need.” I could hear Barry sighing on the other end and my heart ached for him. This catastrophe had shaken him down to his soul.

“Kim,” he said softly, “what am I going to do if he doesn’t make it? He’s my best friend.”

“He’s going to be okay,” I insisted. “You have to believe that. And the police will catch the creeps who did this.”

“I know you’re just saying that, but thanks. I need to believe you’re right.”

“Me, too,” I admitted.