Dovetail: A Novel(24)
After Edna died, Kathleen found out that everything—the house, the car, the business—had all been left to her. She stayed behind to sort things out and wound up stepping into her great-aunt’s shoes. The business even came with Marcia, the assistant who was helpful in that she knew everything about the store but wasn’t interested in running the place.
The stock in the store had been getting low, and Kathleen had been just about to hit the flea markets when she received the first call from Pearl. Marcia had said no one had been in her house for years aside from that old coot Howard Donohue, but the talk in town was that the house had a lot of nice furniture. Pearl’s father reportedly had a knack for carpentry and had made some beautiful pieces. Soon her store would be filled from floor to ceiling.
Marcia broke into her thoughts. “So this Joe, Pearl’s grandson—is he single?”
“I’m not sure. Why? Are you interested?”
“Not for me, silly, for you! You spend too much time alone. You need a boyfriend.”
Romance was the last thing on Kathleen’s mind. “That’s sweet of you, Marcia, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
“Maybe you’re not looking, per se, but if the right one happens to come along? It would be fate, right?”
Kathleen smiled. “I don’t believe in fate, and I don’t care if Joe Arneson is single. I’m not interested.”
Marcia picked up the feather duster and took a swipe at a rolltop desk. “Don’t say that! It would all be so perfect. You’re new in town. Joe’s new in town. You both came here to help elderly relatives. You’ll meet, and sparks will fly! Think about what a great story it would make for your kids and grandkids.”
Kathleen laughed. “Such an imagination. She didn’t say how old he is. He’s probably right out of high school.”
“Nothing wrong with a younger man,” Marcia said. “The heart doesn’t know age, only love.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1983
After the divorce, Ricky had found it easy to keep track of Kathleen. He’d waited a respectable amount of time before moving across the country to be closer to her. He got a job and an apartment in an adjacent community, then spent most of his free time frequenting the spots she liked best, hoping she’d show up. Once patterns emerged—Saturday mornings at the library, Thursday lunches with a coworker at the same restaurant, grocery shopping on Tuesday evenings with her mom—he made a point to be in those places so he could watch for her. He knew that approaching her would be a big mistake, so he just quietly observed her movements, keeping track of the food she ordered and the books she preferred.
No one knew Kathleen the way he did. No one. And no one ever would. When Ricky listened to other guys talk about their wives and girlfriends, it was mostly griping about how long the women talked on the phone and how much time they spent getting ready in the morning. All of it so ordinary, he could have puked. None of them had a clue what it was like to find the perfect woman, the one a man couldn’t live without. Kathleen was all that and more. She was made for him.
As soon as he met her, he’d known she was the one. Destiny. It wasn’t just her looks or personality; it was how she made him feel. She brought out the chivalrous side of him. He found himself sending her flowers and calling her at work just because he missed hearing her voice.
True love.
When she’d said she didn’t want to be married anymore, that had stung right to his core. How could she do that to him? Here she’d taken a vow to love, honor, and cherish him all the days of her life, and then she’d had the gall to walk away as if none of it mattered? It was infuriating. Ricky didn’t understand it. He’d given her everything: all his time, love, and attention. He’d brought her flowers on a regular basis and helped her become more organized. Together they’d created a home of beauty and order. He’d planned that someday she was going to bear his children. They were going to grow old together.
And then, inexplicably, it was over.
Kathleen had single-handedly stomped on all his hopes and dreams. A lesser man would have moved on, given up on her for good, but that wasn’t Ricky’s way. He prided himself on his tenacity. His plan was simple. He’d ease his way back into her life. She was living in Ohio with her parents, two people he found tiresome, but he had tolerated them for Kathleen’s sake. Her mother in particular was such a drag. Now residing in their home, Kathleen was reduced to the life of a teenager, walking their dog in the evening and taking their garbage down to the curb. One time he’d driven past and observed her helping her dad clean out the garage. Living with the old folks had to be a grind, which boded well for him. Soon enough, she’d be ready to be rescued.
He had noted a certain spring in her step on occasion, so he knew that even as a divorced woman, she was able to put on a brave front, giving the world her best smile and even joking around sometimes. Kathleen was never one to let her misery show.
Ricky began to send her greeting cards in a roundabout way—having a friend mail them from the town where he’d formerly lived so it didn’t have a local postmark, and using the friend’s return address. He kept his messages short and simple, saying he still missed her but was coping with the loss and had even started dating. He added that he’d love to hear how she was doing. Instinctively, he knew that a gentle approach was the way to go. Kathleen was so sensitive.