Diamonds and Dreams (11 page)

As
she smoothed the bedspread, Brant quietly entered the room.
 
“Good morning, Beautiful.
 
Time to check out and
return to the real world.”

She
didn’t want to admit it, but she almost regretted leaving since the time they
spent alone had been precious to her.
 
“Thanks for taking care of everything concerning my car,” she told
him.
 
“May I impose upon you one last
time and ask you to give me a ride home?”

“You
never impose when you ask me to do favors for you.
 
Of course, I’ll take you home.”

They
enjoyed breakfast together and on the way to Lindsay’s house, she told him all
about her latest purchase—a sophisticated new digital audio mixer.
 
“Come inside and see it,” she said when he
turned the car into her driveway.

As
soon as Lindsay approached the front porch, she knew something was wrong.
 
“The front door is partly open.”

“You
wait outside and I’ll take a look around,” Brant offered.

“I’ll
go with you.”

He
shoved the door open the rest of the way and surveyed the living room cluttered
with cushions and books strewn about on the tables.
 
“Is this the way you left the house or have
you been vandalized?”

“I
left these things here,
Smartie
.”

He
sighed.
 
“Still the
world’s worst housekeeper.”

“It’s
gone!” her voice broke miserably after she noticed the new audio mixer was
missing from the family room.

Brant
joined her and saw that someone knocked over plants and chairs lay sideways on
the thick carpet.
 
“You’ve been
robbed.
 
I’ll check the rest of the house
to make sure no one’s hiding anywhere.”

After
he made a quick tour and found no one, he advised, “Have a look around and make
a note of everything that’s missing.”

“The
computer is gone along with the flat screen TV’s, my gold chains, my coin
collection and…”

“Call
the police and report everything that’s stolen.”

“No.
 
It won’t help.”

He
looked at her blankly.
 
“What do you mean
it won’t help?
 
Someone broke into your
house and stole your possessions!
 
Don’t
you want to try to catch the thief and do whatever you can to retrieve your
belongings?”

“I
don’t want any of the stolen items back.
 
They’re ‘dirty’ now.
 
Tainted.
 
Already I
feel like I should wash everything in the house.
 
The robber made off with more than my
possessions; my peace of mind is gone.
 
How
can the police get that back for me?”
 
Bitterness filled her voice.
 
“I
don’t even know if I’ll ever feel comfortable in this house again.”

“Sure
you will.
 
You’re not thinking clearly,
honey.
 
If you won’t call the police, I
will.
 
You need to also call your insurance
agent and report this incident.”

“It’s
easy for you to stand there and act rational; you aren’t the one that got
robbed!”

“Do
you remember if you locked your door the last time you went out?
 
As I recall, you used to be pretty careless
about that.”

“I
don’t remember.”
 

His
hands in his pants pockets, Brant paced the room.
 
“We’re calling the police, Lindsay.
 
Do you want me to stay and help you clean up
later?”

“No.
 
I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

After
she filed a report with the police, Brant asked again, “Are you sure you don’t
want me to stay with you?”

“I’m
sure.”

“Lindsay,
I think you need me tonight.”

“No!”

“Have
it your way then.”

Hearing
the door slam abruptly, she stood alone in the middle of the ransacked room
while hot tears silently traced a moist path down her cheeks.
 
She hadn’t felt so depressed and
disillusioned with life since Constance’s death.
 
Desperately she wondered if she’d ever
achieve an inner peace that wouldn’t desert her the way her personal strength
fled from her now.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

When
Brant didn’t try to make plans to spend Independence Day with her, Lindsay felt
disappointed.
 
On impulse she invited a
few friends and several employees at WBKB to her house for a cook-out.
 
Desi
politely
refused, saying he made earlier plans, and Brant told her directly that he
wasn’t in the mood for a party.
 
She
didn’t feel too festive herself, but decided to have the cook-out so her mind
would be forced to dwell on something other than the contest and the friction
that hovered between her and Brant.

Tony
D’Marco
was the first guest to arrive.
 
“I came early in case you need me to help you
do anything.”

“Thanks,
Tony, but everything’s ready.
 
And my
friend,
Serita
, will be along shortly to help with
the food.”

Why
couldn’t Brant be so attentive?
 
In the
beginning he had been, but he now acted distant toward her since their
disagreement.
 
Or was he using that as an
excuse and perhaps it was the contest that really disturbed him?

A
vivacious brunette,
Serita
, with bright blue eyes
reflecting a zest for life, volunteered to take charge of the grilling.
 
“You work hard at WBKB to entertain us,
Lindsay.
 
Now you enjoy your night off
and leave the work to me.”

Tempting
smells of the tangy barbecue sauce poured over sizzling hamburgers, hot dogs,
and chicken floated on the balmy summer air.
 
A carefree atmosphere prevailed as old friends and new acquaintances
mingled together in cheerful camaraderie.

When
it was nearly ten o’clock, the small group sat in wooden chairs on Lindsay’s
brick patio and directed their attention toward the heavens.
 
In the distance a colorful splash of
fireworks illuminated the sky as the rumbling reverberations shook the earth.
 
Lindsay hoped earlier that
Desi
would ask her and Brant to attend the Red, White and
Boom celebration, so if they were forced to work, at least they would have
spent the holiday together.

“Lindsay!
 
Your phone is ringing,” someone shouted.

Finally
locating where she misplaced her cell phone in the kitchen, Lindsay answered.
 
Hopefully it would be Brant calling to say he
changed his mind and would arrive soon.
 
“Hello?” she said anxiously.

“Connie?”
 
The caller spoke in almost a whisper so she
couldn’t identify the voice as being male or female.

Her
body froze; she was speechless.
 
Was this
someone’s idea of a sick joke?

“Connie?
 
It’s you, isn’t it?” the voice came again.

“You
have the wrong number.”
 
Startled, she
hung up.
 
Did the caller refer to her
sister or someone else?
 
Was it
really
a wrong number?

Serita
chose that moment to enter the
kitchen.
 
“Are you okay, Lindsay?
 
You look strange…pale.”

“Speaking
of strange…”
 
She proceeded to tell
Serita
about the peculiar call.

“It’s
probably a wrong number,”
Serita
surmised.
 
“Seeing Constance’s old classmates recently
shook you up, didn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“If
I were you, I wouldn’t worry.”

“You’re
right.”

“The
contest between you and Brant also has your nerves on edge, too, I’ll bet.”

“True.
 
It took me a long time before I felt close to
Brant,” Lindsay recalled sadly.
 
“Now
because of this horrible contest and also a silly argument we had, I’m afraid I
may have lost him.”

“Then
maybe you’ll feel better if you think about that old saying, ‘If you love
something, let it go free…’”

“And
if it doesn’t come back, it wasn’t meant to be yours, right?
 
If it does return, then I should love it
forever.”

“That’s
the one.
 
If Brant is in love with you,
he’ll make a move to reunite with you.”

“I
hope it’s soon.
 
Our relationship at work
has been strained and our personal relationship is also starting to
deteriorate.”

Several
days later,
Serita
returned to visit.
 
“Would you want to know if Brant was out with
another woman?”

“Of course!”

“Well,
I hate to be the one to break it to you, but last night I saw him with an
attractive woman at a nightclub in Columbus.”

Feeling
hurt and betrayed, Lindsay absorbed this news before she said, “He must not
have taken his relationship with me as seriously as I did.”

“Maybe
there’s a good explanation.
 
You’ll never
know unless you ask him.”

“You
think I should confront him?”

“That
seems like the best way to find out where you stand with him.”

“You’re
right.
 
If Brant and I don’t talk things
over, the love we developed toward each other will crumble just as anything
else will if there’s not a strong foundation.”

“Why
don’t you try to make that foundation firmer if you really think you could be
building for your future?”

“Good
idea.
 
I’ll go over to Brant’s place
later.”

“Think
you should call first?
 
Just in case he’s
dating the woman I saw him with?”

“You’re
right.
 
I should call first,” Lindsay
decided.

“See
you later.
 
Good luck.”

“Thanks
for telling me about seeing Brant.
 
Although I’m not pleased to hear the news, I need to know.”

Several
minutes later she nervously tapped out Brant’s number.
 
He answered on the second ring.

“It’s
Lindsay.
 
Can we get together?
 
Something’s been bothering me.”

“If
it’s about the contest, I don’t think we should discuss it.”

“What
I want to talk about has nothing to do with WBKB.”

“Okay.
 
I was about to go for some pizza.
 
Care to join me?”

“Sure.
 
Thanks.”

“I’ll
pick you up in a few minutes.
 
Bye,
Lindsay.”

Hurriedly
she changed into white jeans and a cool periwinkle top.
 
Brushing a few tangles out of her hair, she
dabbed rose perfume on her wrists.
 
She
finished buckling her leather sandals just as Brant rang the doorbell.

“Hi.
 
I’m ready,” she told him, stepping
outside.
 
Why did she feel like they were
strangers meeting for the first time?

It
took only minutes before the warm rapport they shared returned.
 
Enjoying a pizza in a corner booth that
offered privacy, they made small talk and then Brant came straight to the
point.
 
“What did you want to talk to me
about?” he asked, unable to control his curiosity a minute longer.

“Us.”

“Let
me go first, Lindsay.
 
If I offended you
the other day or appeared like I tried to get you to change your personality, I
didn’t mean to do this.”

“I’ll
be direct—I thought you and I were supposed to date each other and no one
else.
 
Do you want to call off this
arrangement?”

She
held her breath until he replied, “No.
 
Why should I?
 
Just because one of
us will eventually be forced to give up our job, we don’t have to quit caring
about each other, do we?”

She
wished she could find reassurance in his words, but instead she found it
necessary to ask, “Why were you with another woman this week?
 
A friend of mine saw you and…”

“So
that’s what this is all about.”