Bells Will Be Ringing Read online

  Regardless of the problems that they might still face, she couldn’t deny what was in her heart. “I do, too.”

  *

  The angel looked down at the couple embracing in the park and smiled.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Eileen had dropped Alan off at his family home, but they hadn’t been able to have a repeat of that scorching kiss. There were simply too many people around. The twins were working together under the hood of an old muscle car in the long driveway, and several curtains twitched within the house at the sound of a car pulling up in front. Apparently, they all wanted to get a glimpse of Alan’s girlfriend.

  He’d given her a somewhat chaste kiss, which she wished could have been longer, but she was reticent to put on a show in front of his family. He seemed to understand and left her with a lingering squeeze of her hand after that simple kiss.

  Eileen floated—at least it felt that way—all through the rest of that day and the next morning and afternoon. She accomplished her tasks but felt herself smiling at the memory of her lunch with Alan, and the long walk by the lake that had followed. And his kiss…

  She could hardly wait to see him again. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long. They were going out to dinner, and she had gone out and bought a new outfit for the occasion, quickly deciding that everything in her closet was just too drab.

  She felt good as she waited for him to pick her up this time. She had her new clothes on and her best coat hanging on the hook by the door, ready to go the moment he arrived. She tried her best not to keep checking the window every five seconds and resolved to sit on the couch, where she could see most of the street in front of her house without being too obvious about it.

  The moment she saw headlights, she bounced off the couch and went into panic mode. Was everything set? She took a quick look around the front room. It was presentable if he wanted to come in. She’d spent an hour cleaning and vacuuming it earlier in the day.

  She was between assignments at the moment, which meant she had her days to herself until after the holidays. Then, she’d have to go back to work her day job in addition to the gigs the band did on the weekends.

  She smoothed her dress as the car parked in front of her house and tried to calm her breathing. It wouldn’t do to show how nervous she was about this outing. Eileen hadn’t been on what she considered a real date in a couple of years. Not since the band schedule had started to fill up her weekends with paying gigs.

  The doorbell rang, and she took a deep breath before heading toward the door to answer it. Alan was here. Let the fairy tale evening commence…

  At least, she hoped it would work out that way. She’d enjoyed her lunch with him more than she had ever expected. Maybe, after that, she was putting too high an expectation on this evening, but it couldn’t be helped. Alan had set his standard very high yesterday.

  Unrealistically high? She sincerely hoped not.

  She opened the door to find him standing there, holding a dozen red roses wrapped in crinkly cellophane. Her heart went pitter-pat. Nobody had ever brought her roses before. Not the expensive kind as these gave every appearance of being. Wow.

  “Alan,” she breathed, momentarily at a loss for words.

  “Hi,” he replied just as quietly. “These are for you.” He held out the roses, and she took them automatically. Oh, yeah. This was definitely starting out as fairy tale material.

  “Thank you,” she said, moving back to invite him in. “Come on in while I put these in water.”

  She felt him follow her inside and then heard the click of the front door. Alan was in her house. Yay!

  “I have a great vase for these,” she said, making small talk. “It was my grandmother’s.”

  “I’m honored,” Alan replied from right behind her. He was following her into the kitchen. Thank goodness she was in the habit of keeping it clean enough for guests.

  “I can’t believe you got me roses,” she prattled on, realizing she might be talking too much, but unable to stop it. “They’re so beautiful.”

  “As beautiful as you,” Alan replied, coming up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist.

  He tugged her backward into his embrace, spooning her from behind. She laid the roses on the counter and turned in his arms to face him, wanting more.

  She reached up and put her arms around his neck, going up on her toes to meet his descending lips. They met in the middle, in a kiss as sweet as it was hot.

  After a timeless moment, Alan stepped back, letting her go a little, but not too far, his hands still loosely at her waist. “Now, that’s a proper hello,” he said, his voice low and intimate.

  Eileen had no words. She wanted more. So much more. But there wasn’t time. Not at the moment anyway. They were going to dinner. And then, maybe later…

  But it was only the second date. Would he make a move? Would she? Would he think her too fast if she jumped him on the way home? Did she have the courage?

  All these thoughts zapped across her mind as she stood there, looking into his blue, blue eyes. A girl could get lost in their depths.

  “We’ve got reservations for seven-thirty,” he told her in a deep, solemn voice that made her insides quiver. “But I thought you might enjoy something cultural before we dined.”

  “Cultural?”

  It was only about five o’clock. They had plenty of time to do something before dinner, if he wanted. She hadn’t realized he’d want to extend the evening, but she was game to do just about anything that would keep him around longer.

  “My friend, Eddie, has an exhibition opening tonight at a gallery in Sea Cliff. I told him I’d check it out—as long as you’re agreeable.” He looked uncertain of her response.

  “What kind of art?” she asked, intrigued.

  “Oh, he’s primarily a sculptor. I think he might be showing a few of his drawings and paintings, too. I guess we’ll find out, if you’re willing.”

  “Sure. It sounds like fun,” she agreed, and he let her go so she could tend to the roses.

  A half hour later, they were entering the lively reception at the trendy gallery where Alan’s friend was showing his work. A couple of burly guys greeted Alan near the door with back-pounding bro hugs and mock-insulting comments. Then, they caught sight of Eileen, and the raucous teasing ceased, to be replaced by keen interest.

  Alan introduced her and she realized she recognized the two men from The Rose. They’d been part of the group that had been around Alan, that first night she met him.

  The art was lovely. Poignant and more intense than she’d expected. Alan introduced her to the artist, his friend, Eddie, and then, they took their leave after a bit of mingling. If the number of people in the small gallery was anything to go by, the show was a success, but they had dinner reservations and a twenty-minute drive to get there.

  Alan drove competently, and she sat back and enjoyed the ride. It was dark, and Christmas lights shone here and there on the houses and businesses they passed. She’d always loved this festive time of year…until last year, when her mother had been dealing with her final illness.

  Christmas had lost its glamour for her then, and now, while she could appreciate the lights others had put out, she didn’t feel the same sparkle in her heart. She hadn’t decorated her own home and wouldn’t. Not this year. Probably never again. Her mother’s death, right before Christmas, had taken all the joy out of this time of year for her.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” Alan said softly, in the dark of the car as they sped along, heading toward the restaurant. It wasn’t late, but the sun went down early this time of year.

  “Sorry. Just thinking.” She sighed. “Thinking too much, actually. I’m not holding up my end of the conversation.”

  “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “I’m not keeping score. And for the record, I don’t mind quiet. I just want to be sure you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “Oh, the gallery was great. I’ve never been there before, and your friend has
real talent. I liked his work,” she told him. “It’s just…”

  Dare she share her true thoughts? Would he be turned off by her honesty and the fact that she seemed to be dwelling on a sad past? She couldn’t help it. That’s just the way she was now. He’d either be okay with it…or he’d walk.

  She supposed, if he was going to walk away, it would be better to do it now, before she got any more attached to him. So, maybe total honesty was the better choice here. She’d see if she scared him off, and if so, she’d count herself lucky for a narrow escape. Still, she really hoped he didn’t run. She liked him way too much already.

  “The Christmas lights,” she went on, hesitantly at first. “They remind me of this time last year, when my mother was dying. It’s…hard.” She had to gulp back her emotions between those last two words. She refused to cry anymore. She’d cried enough this past year.

  Alan’s hand closed around hers and squeezed. Maybe he wasn’t going to run. Maybe he understood.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’ve had a rough year, haven’t you?” His low voice was filled with compassion that warmed the empty places in her heart.

  “The worst,” she agreed. “My mom and I were really close,” she went on when he didn’t say anything more, but his hand twined with hers sent reassurance. “I’ve been so lost without her. And then, Mary…”

  His thumb caressed the back of her hand. “That must’ve hurt a lot.”

  “It’s a pain I can’t even begin to describe. I carry it with me everywhere. Every day. I want to talk to her again, but I realize a split second after having the thought…she’s not there.”

  “Who? Mary?” he asked gently.

  “Yeah, Mary. And my mom. Both of them, really. Mary was my contemporary. We talked about books, and clothes, and music. So much music. But my mom was my confidant. I told her just about everything. And she was a really deep thinker. We talked about big-picture, meaning-of-life stuff. Where I was heading in life. What I should do. She didn’t tell me flat out what to do, or give me orders, or anything like that. She was more Socratic Method. She’d talk over the possibilities with me and help me make my own decisions. I miss that. I miss having her to talk to about the really important stuff. Dad tries, but it’s not the same. She was our guide. Our anchor. We both miss her a lot. Too much, sometimes.”

  “It’s just you and him now?” Alan asked softly.

  “I have a brother. Dad’s living with him for the time being, over in Dix Hills. Paul’s on his third wife, so I’m not sure how long that’ll last.” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She hadn’t liked the idea of Dad selling the family home, but Paul had talked him into it.

  Alan was silent for a bit as he made a turn. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

  She realized she must have sounded more than a little bitter. “No, it’s okay. I’m not angry at you for asking. I’m more upset with my family for falling apart the way we have. Sometimes, I feel like I’m in a tiny boat on the ocean, being tossed around in a storm. Mom was my anchor, and now, I’m cast adrift.”

  He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a soft, reassuring kiss on the back of her hand. Then, he smiled at her, glancing her way for a short moment as he continued to drive. “Don’t worry. I’m in the Navy. I know how to rescue lost mariners.”

  She had to chuckle. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all nautical on you, but we do live on an island.” He glanced her way again, and she saw what she dared to think of as promise in his eyes. Suddenly, she felt the weight of his words. “Thanks,” she told him quietly. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dinner was lovely, in a ritzy restaurant she’d never been to before. Alan was the perfect gentleman, treating her with every courtesy. They talked about books and the art they’d seen at the gallery. Conversation was kept light and breezy, possibly to counterbalance the seriousness they’d gotten into in the car.

  He didn’t seem to be running for the hills. On the contrary, he looked like he was settling in, wanting to get to know her better. Would wonders never cease? She was an emotional mess at the best of times these days, and she hadn’t managed to scare him off with her serious talk. She was pleasantly surprised and amazed at his willingness to step in where angels probably feared to tread.

  He was a really special guy, and the more she learned about him, the more she liked him. She could easily fall in love with him. The revelation wasn’t all that surprising. Maybe she was a little in love with him already. He’d been nothing but kind to her, and he kissed like a dream. She wanted so much to know if they could have more, but she was hesitant. He might be leaving.

  Daring greatly, she changed the discussion from mostly benign likes and dislikes to something a lot more serious. She tried to be casual about it as their pie and coffee were served.

  “Have you given any more thought to whether you’ll go back to the Navy for another tour?” she asked lightly, though a lot was riding on his answer.

  “I’ve been thinking about it pretty much non-stop, when I haven’t been distracted by a certain songbird, that is.” He smiled at her, and she felt it down to her toes. “Before I met you, I was leaning toward re-upping, but now…” His gaze sharpened and pinned her in place. “Now, I’m thinking there are advantages to returning to the civilian world.”

  Her breath caught as his words registered. Then, she realized that really wasn’t a definite answer. He still hadn’t made up his mind.

  “When do you have to tell them yes or no?” she ventured, taking a bite of the pie she barely tasted.

  “Before the end of the month,” he said offhandedly. “I’m on leave ‘til after New Year’s.”

  Realizing he wasn’t going to give her any more certainty than that, she let the subject drop. “I bet your family’s glad to have you home through the holidays.”

  The conversation turned to the various activities his family had planned for him and a small ski outing his younger siblings wanted him to join on Thursday.

  “Hey, do you want to come? Even if you don’t ski, it’s fun to sit in the lodge in front of a roaring fire and drink hot cocoa.” He seemed enthusiastic for her to go with him.

  “Yes, I ski. Got my own gear, too, but I haven’t gone in a couple of years. But I’ve got gigs Friday, Saturday and Sunday.”

  “That’s no problem. We’re going up to Mount Peter. It only takes a couple of hours to get there. I figured I’d take a separate car up so the kids can stay overnight while I head home. I could have you back the same night.”

  “A day trip?” She was oh-so-tempted. “I used to go up to Sterling Forest for night skiing with my mom,” she told him, not sure why she mentioned it. “I haven’t been skiing since…”

  “Oh.” He went from a cajoling smile to serious concern. “You don’t have to—”

  “No,” she interrupted him. “I think it would be good to go. Do something I used to really enjoy again. But I just wanted to warn you that I might get a little emotional if I stop to think about things. I’ll do my best not to, but if I go off for a bit on my own, it’s probably for your own protection.” She laughed as she said the words, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever a little thing like you dishes out,” he assured her. “And I’m not afraid of tears. Sometimes, tears can be good. Cathartic. Cleansing.”

  He really did understand.

  She nodded. “They can be, but there also comes a time when enough is enough.”

  “Something tells me you’re being a little hard on yourself,” he said, his brows quirking in concern. “Grief takes time, and there’s no set schedule for it.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve heard it before. But it’s been almost a year. I should be better than this by now,” she whispered, revealing more than she’d intended.

  He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “It may have been alm
ost a year since you lost your mom, but it’s only been a couple of weeks since Mary died, right? That’s got to dredge all those feelings back up again. Cut yourself some slack.”

  She took a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay. You’re probably right,” she answered quietly. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “I can’t say I’ve felt exactly what you’re feeling. I still have my mom. But I’ve lost close friends under intense conditions. I know how that can affect a person.” His voice was low, strictly between them. “Take it easy. One day at a time. Remember the good and try not to dwell on the past. Try to live only in the present. Not the past…or even the future. Sometimes, now is all we really have.”

  Her breath caught as she imagined how he’d come to believe such things. He’d been in battle. More than once, if she guessed right, but she’d never ask him. Some things had to be given, not sought. If he trusted her enough—and needed to talk—she would be there to listen, no questions asked, but it was probably too soon to say so.

  “I like now very much,” she told him, hoping to elicit that smile of his that turned her knees to jelly.

  Yep. There it was. Good thing she wasn’t standing, because she would’ve melted into a puddle at his feet.

  “Yeah, now is pretty darn awesome, I’d say,” he agreed, flashing the smile he probably didn’t realize was so lethal to a woman’s composure.

  The waitress interrupted the moment, placing a folder containing the bill on the table. Before Eileen could even make a sound of protest, Alan had the folder in hand and was tucking a credit card into the little slot in the folder made just for that purpose.

  “What about my treat?” Eileen protested.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Alan told her, his eyes sparkling with humor.

  Eileen acquiesced, liking the way he’d taken charge, but still feeling a bit strange about the hundred-dollar tip he’d given her. She had to admit it was looking less and less likely that he’d allow her to spend that hundred on anything they did together. Maybe she could find him a really neat hundred-dollar Christmas present.