be swaying. She was close to hyperventilating. She bent over and took a few deep breaths until she regained control. Then she picked up the phone again and dialed the number he’d written on the back of the card, his home number. The message on that line confirmed her fears. The number had been disconnected. He was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Alex gazed into the bathroom mirror. Even with a shower and shave he looked like hell warmed over. There were blue shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep. His face looked gaunt after missing most of his meals this past week. He packed his shave kit and slid it into his gym bag. Everything else had already been packed and stacked in the living room for the movers to pick up in the morning.
He collected the dirty clothes from the floor, embarrassed to realize he’d worn the same T-shirt and shorts for the last three days. There didn’t seem to be any reason to change. He’d stayed at home to pack and make all arrangements by phone. He wadded the clothes into a ball and stuffed them into the trash bin.
What to do with one wet towel? It was one he’d brought home from the gym wrapped around an ice bag after he’d been hit in the head by a racquetball. He dropped it into the trash along with the clothes.
On his way through the bedroom, he noticed the empty wire hangers from the cleaners in the open closet. They were the only sign that anyone had ever stepped foot in the room. Alex realized that no one had been in this room besides himself. He had an oak tallboy in the corner and a matching nightstand by the full-sized bed. The only other color in the room had been a green blanket that covered his white sheets and pillows, now packed away. He had helped Lacey change the sheets on the beds at the farm. Each room was decorated in bright colors and demonstrated the personality of the person who lived in that room.
In the living room, his expensive leather sofa and chairs were pushed together in the center of the floor. The marble-topped side tables were upended on top of the matching coffee table. Lacey’s furniture was old and faded, but a man could sink into it and feel at home. It was furniture that had watched old movies late at night and supported babies as they pulled up to stand on shaky little legs. It might not have a lot of style, but it had history, family history.
The painting that leaned against the wall in the foyer had cost a small fortune. He’d trade it any day for the school pictures of silly toothless smiles that adorned Lacey’s stairwell.
Boxes and packing paper littered the top of his chrome and glass dining table. The tall-backed, brocade chairs were lined up against the wall. It made him think about a catfish supper that covered Lacey’s old wooden table with mismatched chairs.
His kitchen was empty now. The glossy white cabinets and stainless steel appliances had hardly been used. He closed his eyes and imagined the delicious aroma of fresh apples combined with sweet onions and coffee, Lacey’s kitchen.
There was a gnawing in Alex’s stomach and a heavy feeling in his chest. It was a feeling he recalled from long ago, when he’d left for the Navy. He was homesick, homesick for that rundown little farm house.
Jerrod was his biggest obstacle. How could he make him accept a man in his life, other than the one that had abandoned him before he was born? And, would Lacey ever forgive him for the sins she felt he’d committed thirteen years ago.
A tap sounded on Alex’s front door.
Mary Ann stood in the hallway with a sad smile. “I’m sure going to miss you, boss.”
“Are you positive you can’t come with me?” Alex asked.
Mary Ann shook her head. “I can’t ask the kids to leave their schools. Brian just made the varsity team. Besides that, I’m looking forward to running my own satellite office. We’ll probably be in touch more than you think.”
Alex picked up his gym bag and handed over his apartment keys. “Thanks for taking care of
Chapter Thirteen
Alex gazed into the bathroom mirror. Even with a shower and shave he looked like hell warmed over. There were blue shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep. His face looked gaunt after missing most of his meals this past week. He packed his shave kit and slid it into his gym bag. Everything else had already been packed and stacked in the living room for the movers to pick up in the morning.
He collected the dirty clothes from the floor, embarrassed to realize he’d worn the same T-shirt and shorts for the last three days. There didn’t seem to be any reason to change. He’d stayed at home to pack and make all arrangements by phone. He wadded the clothes into a ball and stuffed them into the trash bin.
What to do with one wet towel? It was one he’d brought home from the gym wrapped around an ice bag after he’d been hit in the head by a racquetball. He dropped it into the trash along with the clothes.
On his way through the bedroom, he noticed the empty wire hangers from the cleaners in the open closet. They were the only sign that anyone had ever stepped foot in the room. Alex realized that no one had been in this room besides himself. He had an oak tallboy in the corner and a matching nightstand by the full-sized bed. The only other color in the room had been a green blanket that covered his white sheets and pillows, now packed away. He had helped Lacey change the sheets on the beds at the farm. Each room was decorated in bright colors and demonstrated the personality of the person who lived in that room.
In the living room, his expensive leather sofa and chairs were pushed together in the center of the floor. The marble-topped side tables were upended on top of the matching coffee table. Lacey’s furniture was old and faded, but a man could sink into it and feel at home. It was furniture that had watched old movies late at night and supported babies as they pulled up to stand on shaky little legs. It might not have a lot of style, but it had history, family history.
The painting that leaned against the wall in the foyer had cost a small fortune. He’d trade it any day for the school pictures of silly toothless smiles that adorned Lacey’s stairwell.
Boxes and packing paper littered the top of his chrome and glass dining table. The tall-backed, brocade chairs were lined up against the wall. It made him think about a catfish supper that covered Lacey’s old wooden table with mismatched chairs.
His kitchen was empty now. The glossy white cabinets and stainless steel appliances had hardly been used. He closed his eyes and imagined the delicious aroma of fresh apples combined with sweet onions and coffee, Lacey’s kitchen.
There was a gnawing in Alex’s stomach and a heavy feeling in his chest. It was a feeling he recalled from long ago, when he’d left for the Navy. He was homesick, homesick for that rundown little farm house.
Jerrod was his biggest obstacle. How could he make him accept a man in his life, other than the one that had abandoned him before he was born? And, would Lacey ever forgive him for the sins she felt he’d committed thirteen years ago.
A tap sounded on Alex’s front door.
Mary Ann stood in the hallway with a sad smile. “I’m sure going to miss you, boss.”
“Are you positive you can’t come with me?” Alex asked.
Mary Ann shook her head. “I can’t ask the kids to leave their schools. Brian just made the varsity team. Besides that, I’m looking forward to running my own satellite office. We’ll probably be in touch more than you think.”
Alex picked up his gym bag and handed over his apartment keys. “Thanks for taking care of
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