Love, Albert Page 6

  “Guess my harmless act worked,” Reid whispered.

  “You know what they say about fooling some of the people some of the time.”

  The window lowered all the way, the back door slid to the side and the husband tried to keep a Great Dane puppy from lunging at them in welcome.

  “Just hand that basket to the boys,” the woman said. “What are your names, sweetheart?”

  While Vicky took care of the introductions, Reid handed the basket to the twins into the back seat. They were about ten, dark-haired and squat like their father. The mother, on the other hand, was thin, blond and too toned for Reid’s taste. “Boys,” she repeated and they grudgingly looked up from their video games long enough to take the basket from Reid.

  “We’re Anna and Fred Hennessey,” the mother said. “These are our boys and trusted navigators, Justin and Robbie. Say hello boys.”

  This time they didn’t look up.

  “And this is Max.” Anna knelt on her seat and took hold of the other side of the dog’s collar. “Six months old, and such a big baby,” she grunted.

  “On three,” her husband said and the two of them tugged and shoved, trying to move the dog to the other side of the seat.

  After a few fruitless seconds, Reid said, “Don’t worry about it,” and went around to the door on the other side of the van.

  “Aren’t you Mommy’s great big baby,” Anna said, patting the dog’s head while Vicky wedged herself in beside him and closed the door. “All in?” she chirped. “Then let’s get rolling.”

  The dog sighed and slumped over, pinning Vicky against the door. “Are you getting a phone signal here at all?” she asked.

  “Haven’t had service for the last hour. Justin said it’s like the zombie apocalypse has started, didn’t you Justin?” Anna laughed and turned to her husband. “Look at the dog, Fred. Maxy just loves the ladies.”

  “Seat belt check,” Fred said. “This buggy doesn’t move ‘til every belt is fastened.”

  The boys groaned, Reid buckled, and Vicky gave the dog a push, discovering that a six month old Dane can weigh in at close to one hundred pounds.

  “Somebody’s belt is still not done up.”

  Vicky eyed the buckle beneath the beast’s butt. “I’ll just be a second.”

  “Let me help.” Reid hauled the dog back long enough for her to reach the buckle, and let go as soon as she was all snapped in.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, pushing the puppy’s snout out of her face.

  Reid smiled and sat back. “Any time.”

  At last Fred put on his signal, checked the road three times, and pulled away. Van and camper were on their way, doing all of fifty miles an hour.

  Anna held out a bag of trail mix to Reid. “Where you folks heading anyway?”

  He shook his head at the offering. “The nearest town.”

  “Boys,” Anne called. “Can you look on the map and see what’s coming up?” She smiled at Vicky. “We’re training them to read paper maps. I think it’s an important life skill.”

  “Manning, eight miles,” one of the twins called.

  “Five,” the other said.

  “Can’t we just go to Mendocino?” the first one asked. “It’s is only thirty miles.”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Thirty.”

  “Boys, boys, why don’t you turn the movie back on? And use your headphones this time.” Anna turned to Reid. “Would you pass them the trail mix? They get antsy when their blood sugar drops.” When the bag was safely in the backseat, she relaxed and glanced over at Vicky. “You two have kids?”

  “A girl and a boy. Five and two.”

  “Such nice ages. But they’re not with you.”

  “My mother is looking after them,” she said.

  “How wonderful is that?” Anna lowered her voice to a whisper. “Fred and I try to get in as many romantic weekends as we can, too.”

  “It’s not really—”

  “Oh Fred, honey, there’s a lookout. Pull over.” She grabbed her camera bag from the console. “You two don’t mind a quick stop, do you?”

  “We really do need to … ”

  But the turn signal was already flashing and Fred was slowing down for the turn.

  “The lookout it is,” Vicky said and Reid admired her ability to keep smiling.

  The lookout consisted of a small parking area and a stone wall that ran along the cliff for about twenty feet, allowing visitors access to the view while still maintaining a margin of safety. Luckily for Fred, theirs was the only vehicle in the lot making it easy to maneuver both van and trailer into a spot close to the wall. The moment he shut off the engine, the dog stood up and started to whimper.

  “Who wants to go outside?” Anna cooed. “Thank heaven there’s no fog. Hopefully we can get some good pictures this time.” She pressed the button to open the side door. “Just hold Maxy for a second while I get out.”

  Vicky body checked the dog into a sitting position. “No problem.”

  Anna slid out of her seat. “Who’s got the lead?”

  Before anyone could answer, Max stumbled over Vicky, leapt past Anna and bolted for the lookout.

  “Max, no,” Anna called. “Max, come! Everyone, get out here now! And who has the lead?”

  “Justin had it last,” one said as the boys clambered out of the back.

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Boys, move it,” Fred hollered and the four of them took off at a run.

  The dog stopped long enough to sniff the wall and leave his calling card before dashing off again, galloping back past the van, heading for the road with the Hennesseys racing after him, all shouting and whistling and blaming each other for the loss of the lead. The puppy paused to watch them a moment, pivoted and ran back toward the wall, making a wide arc around the family.

  “We’re never going to get out of here, are we,” Vicky said as the pack dashed past the van.

  Reid feigned shock. “You mean you’re not enjoying the minivan experience? The smooth ride, the extra space, the fabulous family adventures.”

  “This makes your day, doesn’t it?”

  He watched the Hennesseys split up to surround the dog. “I’d have to say it’s a high point, yes.”

  The family had the dog cornered by the wall. “Max sit,” Fred said. “Sit, boy. Sit damn it.”

  The dog lowered his head, pushed his butt into the air and wagged his tail. Fred dove, capturing him at last. “Now stay,” he hollered. “Stay I said.”

  “I guess we should help.” Reid slid back the door and stepped out of the van. He was about to close the door when he spotted something shiny under the driver’s seat. “Well what do you know.” He bent to have a look. “Want to be a hero?” he asked and held up the lead.

  Vicky grabbed it out of his hand. “Let’s hope they’ve had enough of lookout point,” she said and leapt out of the van.

  The two of them jogged across the parking lot and Vicky handed the lead to Fred. He nodded his thanks, wrestled the clip onto the collar and rolled to the side. The dog licked his face, Anna cheered and the boys high-fived as Fred got to his feet, keeping a tight grip on the lead. “Let’s get some pictures,” he said and the Hennessey clan headed for the lookout.

  “Seems they haven’t had enough yet,” Reid said.

  “Come on you two,” Anna called over her shoulder. “We’ll save you a spot.”

  Vicky sighed. “Seems like,” she said, and the two of them dutifully followed behind.

  The beach was wider than the one at Turtle Rock, but the tide was slowly creeping back in, swirling around the rocks and trying to reach a line of horses plodding across the sand. They weren’t champion stock by any standard. Just tired trail nags finding their way back to the barn and a bale of hay. Still, Anna and the twins seemed thrilled with the discovery.

  “That one’s a Paint,” one of the twins told Vicky.

  “Also called a Pinto,” the other said. Reid wai
ted for the fight, but to his surprise, the first boy said, “And see that one over there? That’s a Palomino.”

  The two boys were holding a real conversation with Vicky and Reid had to blink twice to make sure he was looking at the same kids.

  Fred leaned in closer. “In case you haven’t guessed, we’re real horse people,” he said.

  Reid glanced down at the dog. “I can see that.”

  “Took the boys to a Dude Ranch last year and I have to say, it was the perfect holiday for kids. This year it was Anna’s choice so we’re glamping. Wifi, crystal, the whole nine yards. Trust me, it’s an adventure of a whole other kind.” He pointed to the line of horses again. “Boys, look over there. That one has freckles, and you know how I love freckles.”

  Anna laughed and nudged him with an elbow. And for the first time, Reid noticed the sprinkling of freckles across her nose.

  She held the camera out to Vicky. “Would you take a picture of the four of us?”

  Fred handed the lead to one of the boys and put an arm around Anna’s waist. The twins took up positions in front and the dog actually sat down between them. “Cheeeese,” they said together.

  Vicky’s smile was warm and real as she snapped the picture.

  “Now Mom and Dad,” the boys said in unison, and they hooted and hollered when Fred leaned Anna back to kiss her, and Vicky snapped more pictures.

  “You’re a bad one, you are,” Anna whispered, shooting Fred a look so blatantly sexual it caught Reid off guard.

  Fred and Anna, still alive. Who’d have guessed?

  “Let me get one of the boys, now,” she said to Vicky. “And then I’ll take some of you and Reid.”

  Vicky handed her the camera. “We don’t need pictures.”

  “Everybody needs pictures,” Anna said. “Who knows when the two of you will be back this way again?”

  “Probably never,” Vicky said.

  “Exactly.” Anna gave the lookout a quick once-over. “Vicky, would you hold the dog a moment?”

  Vicky let the dog sniff the wall while Anna dug a different lens out of her camera bag and the boys went back to talking about the horses. She started snapping pictures and Reid soon realized that Anna knew about cameras and setting up a shot, and the boys were accustomed to being her subjects.

  “So is photography a hobby or a profession?” he asked Fred.

  “It’s her passion,” he said. “She turned the garage into a studio a few years back. Does mostly children and families. I don’t know where she gets the patience.” He looked at Reid. “I know how anxious you must be to get to a phone. But we’ve been on the road a while and we all needed a bit of a break.”

  “I understand completely.” Over by the lookout, Vicky was scratching the dog’s ears and listening to Anna explain the setup for the next shot. She looked relaxed and interested, in no hurry to go anywhere. “We just appreciate the lift,” Reid said.

  “So what kind of car were you driving?” Fred asked.

  “A sixty-eight MG.”

  Fred blew out long slow breath. “A classic.”

  “That’s what I keep telling Vicky.”

  “Women just don’t understand.” Fred sighed and leaned his elbows on the wall. “I had a seventy-nine Corvette once. Silver exterior, T-bar roof, five speeds.” He stared out at the water. “Man, that car could haul ass.”

  “I hear you,” Reid said, resting his own elbows on the wall and watching the waves crash against the rocks. “What happened to it?”

  “Kids.”

  “Hence, the van.”

  Fred laughed. “Nearly broke my heart the day we signed the deal. But it’s okay now. Lots of room for the boys’ hockey equipment and I like sitting up high. Makes me feel like I’m driving a truck.”

  Reid glanced over, skeptical. “I’ll stick to my MG. If we ever find it.”

  “I don’t blame you. It’s just too bad it had to happen this weekend. I know how hard it is to get away without the kids.”

  Reid turned to watch Vicky patting the dog while Anna explained about light and filters. “To be honest, this isn’t a weekend for two. Vicky and I are separated. We’re going to Seaport because there was a death in the family.”

  “You’re on your way to a funeral?”

  Reid nodded because it was easier.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, he was healthy to the end—”

  “I meant about the separation.”

  Reid shrugged and looked down at his hands, not at all sure why he’d told Fred. Something about the intimacy of strangers, he supposed. “It happens.”

  “Don’t I know.” Fred looked down at his hands. “Fact is, Anna and I were almost there ourselves a while ago.”

  Reid drew his head back. “You seem so solid.”

  “I thought so too until I came home and found she was gone. Packed up the kids and her cameras and left.”

  “Just like that? Without a warning?”

  “There were signs. She’d packed the freezer with microwave meals. Had my suits dry cleaned. Matched all my socks. But I didn’t notice because I was too busy being a very important lawyer, bringing in the big bucks, buying more stuff. You know the drill.”

  Fred drew in a long breath and turned his back to the view. “The thing is, I loved that job. Senior partner, big corner office. I figured, who needs her? There were lots of women out there who’d appreciate a great guy like me.” He paused and glanced over at his wife. “She was gone for a week. Stayed in some crummy little motel because she wouldn’t use any of the credit cards I had given her. Said she didn’t need me or my money or any of my stuff. Trouble was, I needed her.”

  Reid watched Vicky mugging for the camera, having a great time with the boys and the dog. “What did you do?”

  Fred shrugged. “I got down on my knees and begged her to come back. Promised I’d change, work less hours, give up the job if that was what she wanted.”

  “And did she?”

  He chuckled. “That was on the top of her list.”

  “She had a list?”

  “Just a short one.” His smile widened when he looked over at her again. “Anna is a woman who knows what she wants.”

  Like Vicky, Reid mused, picturing her packing up the condo, arranging the movers, putting the life they’d had together behind her and heading for a new one in that damn house in Milton. The one with the phony blue shutters. He shook his head. What was it about phony shutters anyway? They didn’t keep out the weather. As far as he could tell, all they did was collect so much dust you had to go at them with a high-powered hose once a year. Not that a high-powered hose wasn’t a lot of fun. He turned back to Fred. “So what are you doing now?”

  “I started a business consulting firm, working from the house. Anna agreed to help, do the books for me as well as her photography. We found we liked spending more time together, so we got rid of the gardener and the cleaning lady, starting doing things ourselves, and worked on building a family again.” He lifted his face to the sun. “It’s all a matter of compromise.”

  “But it sounds like you did all the compromising.”

  “What I did was wake up.”

  Reid heard Vicky calling, “take the picture, take the picture,” and turned to see her and the twins making a somewhat shaky human pyramid for the camera.

  “So no regrets?” he asked Fred.

  “Just one. I wish I’d taken that Corvette up the coast at least once before I sold it.” He smiled at the laughter when the pyramid collapsed then clapped Reid on the shoulder. “And so, my friend, I will live vicariously through you. And in order to do that, you have to get that car back.”

  Without warning, Fred raised his arms and sang, “There she was, just a walking down the street…”

  Anna snapped around. “Singin’ do wa diddy, diddy, dum diddy do.”

  The boys picked up the next line and the three snapped their fingers and shuffled their feet to where Fred waited. The four of them formed a conga line
with Fred in the lead, heads bobbing in time as they danced their way to the van.

  Anna waved Vicky and Max into the spot in front of her. Reid watched her dash over, take her place in line and find the rhythm right away. It was the goofiest thing he had ever seen and Vicky looked relaxed and happy for the first time in months, even with that dumb dog trotting beside her. Having fun the way she used to, the way they used to. And all he had to do to keep that look on her face was to give up every principle he’d built his life around. Trade in everything he knew to be true for a high-powered hose and a half a dozen phony blue shutters, and hope to God he could be as content to live vicariously as Fred was.

  The five of them were halfway across the lot when another car pulled in, a sleek black Jaguar with California plates. The doors flew open and four people spilled out—a man and his much younger girlfriend, plus two sullen teenage girls. They stared at the Hennesseys a moment, obviously not getting it, then the man held up a hand. “Five minutes, and we’re back on the road.”

  The girlfriend ran to the lookout. “I’ve got the camera,” she called, waving it in the air. “Who’s coming for pictures?”

  The teens hung back, the father cursed his dead phone and the Hennesseys kept on dancing, oblivious to the father’s stare or the teenagers’ patronizing giggles. Just enjoying the moment and each other, exactly as Reid and Vicky might have done on another day, in another place.

  “Next stop, Manning,” Fred announced. “All aboard.”

  Anna stepped out of line and lifted her camera, snapping more shots as Vicky and the boys piled into the car with the dog. “Hop in and I’ll get one of you and Vicky before we leave,” Anna said to Reid.

  “It’s okay,” Vicky said. “We don’t need one.”

  “Yes, we do,” Reid said and climbed in on the other side of the dog, suddenly needing to be part of the picture.

  Six

  Anna’s phone finally found a signal about two miles outside of Manning. Reid called the local police to report the theft and Vicky searched for hotels, motels, anything at all that might have rooms for the night. Only two names came up, Central Hotel and the Manning Inn, and both establishments were letting their calls go to the voicemail. It wasn’t until they reached the Main Street that Vicky understood why.