He smiled and ruffled my hair with one of his rough old hands. “There’s another old saying. It goes, ‘The opera’s not over until the fat lady sings.’”
The house phone rang, and he stood, starting toward it. “That’ll be Aileen.”
“You’re still talking to her?”
“We talk every morning. And every evening when she’s done with work. Lovely girl. She’s getting impatient for me to visit her.”
Before he answered the phone, he said. “I’ll see you tonight, munchkin. Don’t be any later than you already are for work. Everything’s going to work out.”
“Okay Dad. Have a good day.”
As I left the apartment, I heard him laugh and respond to whatever “that lovelygirl,” Aileen said in the mushiest, most lovestruck voice.
Glad someone’s happy.
Just watch—he’d probably end up moving to Rhode Island while I stayed here in the city alone. My heart bottomed out.
I missed Eastport Bay. I missedJack.
Many times over the past few days I’d wondered if I’d done the right thing in leaving the way I had.
But I always came back to this… I couldn’t spend my life with someone who didn’t trust me. I’d always be walking on eggshells, waiting for the next shoe to drop, the next accusation.
I needed someone who could love me with his whole heart, who didn’t hide part of it away in a desperate effort to protect himself.
If Jack couldn’t give me that, then he wasn’t the right man for me after all, no matter how much I loved him.
Still… I’d never find another man like him. He made me feel things I’d never felt with anyone else. We’d connected at the heart.
Mine ripped a little at the seams, leaking pain into my chest cavity.
When I got to the building where the newspaper’s headquarters were housed, I pushed down all those thoughts and feelings and focused on the task at hand—saving my job.
Maybe Dad was right. Maybe I should just throw myself on the mercy of the court, tell Charlotte the truth. Maybe she’d been through heartbreak of her own and would understand that particular brand of crazy.
I went straight to her office to get it over with.
Her door was open, so I stepped inside. Charlotte stood when she saw me, giving me a bright smile. Which was surprising. Maybe Jack hadn’t thrown me under the bus yet.
“Bonnie! Hi. Welcome back. I want to talk to you, but I’m expecting a phone call any minute that I have to take.”
I stepped forward, wiping my suddenly perspiring palms on my pants legs. “Charlotte, listen, I—”
The phone rang. Charlotte held up a finger and picked up the call. Before bringing the phone to her ear she whispered, “I’ll talk to you later, okay? By the way, great job.”
Another brilliant smile and a thumbs-up. Then she turned her full attention to the caller.
I walked out of her office in a whirlwind of confusion.
Great job?
What was she talking about? Clearly, she believed I’d accomplished my mission in Eastport Bay and was returning home with a completed article.
I trudged to my desk, dreading the conversation to come, when I’d have to let my boss down.
There was an envelope on my desk, a large brown legal-sized one. I sat down and turned it over. It was thick. And heavy.
My lungs seized when I saw the return address. Oceanview Avenue in Eastport Bay.
