Right Next Door
Page 51

Janice Mandle stuck her head out the door and scanned the parking lot. She looked relieved when she saw Carol, and waved.
Carol waved back. Although she wanted nothing more than to be alone, she didn’t have any choice but to teach her class.
Janice called, mentioning the time.
Still Carol couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from Alex, holding on to him for as long as she could. He made her feel things she’d never known she was capable of experiencing. When he kissed her, she felt hot and quivery, as though she’d just awakened from a long, deep sleep. Spending time with him was fun and exciting. There’d been adventures waiting to happen with this man. Whole new worlds in the making. Yet something was holding her back. Something powerful. She wanted everything Alex was offering, and at the same time her freedom was too precious, too important.
Carol didn’t see Alex again until the end of the week, when the boys were participating in the district track meet. James was running in the four-hundred-and eight-hundred-meter races, and Peter was scheduled for the 1500-meter. On their own, the two friends had decided to choose events in which they weren’t competing together. Carol had been impressed with their insight into each other’s competitive personalities.
Carol’s mother had decided to attend the meet with her. Angelina was as excited as a kid at the circus. They’d just settled themselves in the bleachers when out of the corner of her eye, Carol saw Alex. Since they both had sons involved in track, she knew avoiding him would be nearly impossible, but she hadn’t expected to see him quite so soon. Although, in retrospect, she should’ve realized he’d be attending this important meet.
Preparing herself, she sat stiffly on the bleachers as Alex strolled past. Instantly her heart started to thunder. His friend was with him, the one she’d met briefly—Barney or Bernie…Barney, she decided. Her hands were tightly clenched in her lap, and she was prepared to exchange polite greetings.
To her consternation, Alex didn’t so much as look in her direction. Carol knew it would’ve been nearly impossible for him to have missed seeing her. If he’d wanted to hurt her, he’d done so—easily.
“So when does the man running with the torch come out?” Angelina asked.
“That’s in the Olympics, Mama,” Carol answered, her voice weak.
Her mother turned to look in Carol’s direction, and her frown deepened. “What’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “You look as white as bleached flour.”
“It’s nothing.”
“What is it?” Angelina asked stubbornly.
“Alex…just walked past us.”
“Not the Alex?”
Carol nodded. Before she could stop her mother, Angelina rose to her feet and reached for Carol’s binoculars. “Where is he? I want to get a good look at this man who broke my daughter’s heart.”
“Ma, please, let’s not get into that again.” The way her mother had defended her had touched Carol’s heart, although Angelina hadn’t wasted any time berating her daughter’s foolishness, either. She’d spent most of Sunday muttering at Carol in Italian. Carol wasn’t fluent enough to understand everything, but she got the gist of it. Angelina thought Carol was a first-class fool to let a man like Alex slip through her fingers.
“I want one look at this Alex,” Angelina insisted. She raised the binoculars to her face and twisted the dials until she had them focused correctly. “I’m gonna give this man the eye. Now tell me where he’s sitting.”
Carol knew it would be easier to bend a tire iron than persuade her mother to remove the binoculars and sit down before she made a scene.
“He’s on your left, about halfway up the bleachers. He’s wearing a pale blue sweater,” she muttered. If he glanced in her direction, she’d be mortified. Heaven only knew what interpretation he’d put on her mother glaring at him through a set of field glasses, giving him what she so quaintly called “the eye.”
Her mother had apparently found him, because she started speaking in Italian. Only this time her comments were perfectly understandable. She was using succulent, suggestive phrases about Alex’s sexual talents and how he’d bring Carol pleasure in bed.
“Ma, please,” Carol wailed. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Angelina sat down and put the glasses on her lap. She began muttering in Italian again, leaning her head close to Carol.
“Ma!” she cried, distressed by the vivid language her mother was using. “You should have your mouth washed out with soap.”
Angelina folded her hands and stared at the sky. “Such beautiful bambinos you’d have with this man.”
Carol closed her eyes at the image of more children—hers and Alex’s. Emotion rocked through her.
Her mother took the opportunity to make a few more succinct remarks, but Carol did her best to ignore them. It seemed as if the track meet wasn’t ever going to begin. Carol was convinced she’d have to spend the afternoon listening to her mother whispering in her ear. Just when she couldn’t endure it any longer, the kids involved in the hurdle events walked over to the starting line. They shook their arms at their sides and did a couple of stretching exercises. Carol was so grateful to have her mother’s attention on the field that it was all she could do not to rush out and kiss the coach.
The four-hundred-meter race followed several hurdle events. Carol watched James through the binoculars as he approached the starting line. He looked confident and eager. As they were taking their positions, he glanced into the stands and cocked his head just slightly, acknowledging his father’s presence. When his gaze slid to Carol, his eyes sobered before he smiled.
At the gun, the eight boys leapt forward. Carol immediately vaulted to her feet and began shouting at the top of her lungs.
James crossed the finish line and placed second. Carol’s heart felt as though it would burst with pride. Without conscious thought her gaze flew to Alex, and she saw that he looked equally pleased by his son’s performance. He must have sensed her watching him because he turned his head slightly and their eyes met. He held on to hers for just a moment, and then with obvious reluctance looked away.
Carol sagged onto her seat.
“So who is this boy you scream for like a son?” her mother demanded.
“James Preston—the boy who finished second.”
“So that was Alex’s son?” Angelina asked slowly, as she took the binoculars and lifted them to her eyes once more. She was apparently satisfied with what she saw, because she grinned. “He’s a fine-looking boy, but he’s a little on the thin side. He needs my spaghetti to put some meat on those bones.”
Carol didn’t comment. She did love James like a son. That realization forced a lump into her throat. And her heart—her poor, unsuspecting heart—was fluttering hard enough to take flight and leave her body behind.
Feeling someone’s eyes on her, she glanced over her shoulder. Instantly Alex turned away. Carol’s hands began to tremble, and all he’d done was look in her direction….
James raced again shortly afterward, placing third in the eight-hundred-meter. For a high school sophomore, he was showing a lot of potential, Carol mused, feeling very proud of him.
When her own son approached the starting line for his race, Carol felt as nervous as she ever had in her life….
Since the 1500-meter meant almost four long turns around the track, it didn’t have the immediacy of the previous races. By the time Peter was entering the final lap, Carol and her mother were on their feet, shouting their encouragement. Carol in English. Angelina in Italian. From a distance, Carol heard a loud male voice joining theirs. Alex.
When Peter crossed the finish line in a solid third position, Carol heaved a sigh of pride and relief. Tears dampened her lashes, and she raised her hands to her mouth. Both the first-and second-place winners were seniors. As a sophomore, Peter had done exceptionally well.
Again, without any conscious decision on her part, Carol found herself turning to look at Alex. This time he was waiting for her, and they exchanged the faintest of smiles. Sad smiles. Lonely smiles. Proud smiles.
Carol’s shoulders drooped with defeat. It was as if the worlds of two fools were about to collide.
He was pushy. She was stubborn.
He wanted a wife. She wanted time.
He refused to wait. She refused to give in.
Still their eyes held, each unwilling to pull away. So many concerns weighed on Carol’s heart. But memories, too—good memories. She remembered how they’d strolled through the lush green foliage of the Washington rain forest. Alex had linked his fingers with hers, and nothing had ever felt more right. That same night they’d sat by the campfire and sung with the boys, and fed each other roasted marshmallows.
The memories glided straight to Carol’s heart.
“Carol?”
Dragging her gaze away from Alex, Carol turned to her mother.
“It’s time to leave,” Angelina said, glancing into the stands toward Alex and his friend. “Didn’t you notice? The stadium’s almost empty, and weren’t we supposed to meet Peter?”
“Yes…” Carol murmured, “we were…we are.”
Peter and James strolled out of the locker room and onto the field together, each carrying a sports bag and a stack of school books. Judging by their damp hair, they’d just gotten out of the shower.
Carol and her mother were waiting where Peter had suggested. It seemed important to keep them as far away from the school building as possible for fear any of his friends would realize he had a family.
Alex didn’t seem to be anywhere nearby, and for that Carol was grateful. And even if it made no sense, she was also regretful. She wanted to be as close to him as she could. And yet she’d happily move to the Arctic Circle to escape him. Her thoughts and desires were in direct contrast and growing more muddled every second.
Peter and James parted company about halfway across the field. Before they went their separate ways, they exchanged a brief nod, apparently having agreed or decided upon something. Whatever it was, Peter didn’t mention it.
He seemed unusually quiet on the ride home. Carol didn’t question her son until they’d dropped her mother off. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.” But he kept his gaze focused straight ahead.
“You sure?”
His left shoulder rose and fell in an indecisive shrug.
“I see.”
“Mr. Preston was at the meet today. Did you see him?”
“Ah…” Carol hedged. There was no reason to lie. “Yeah. He was sitting with his friend.”
“Mr. Powers and Mr. Preston are good friends. They met in college.”
Carol wasn’t sure what significance, if any, that bit of information held.
“According to James, Mr. Powers’s been single for the past couple years, and he dates beautiful women all the time. He’s the one who arranged all those hot dates for James’s dad…and he’s doing it again.”
“That’s none of our business.” Her heart reacted to that, but what else could she expect? She was in love with the man. However, it wasn’t as if Alex hadn’t warned her; he’d said that if she wasn’t willing to accept what he was offering, it was time to cut his losses and look elsewhere. She just hadn’t expected him to start so soon.