Hero At Large

But he stayed rooted to the spot, watching her face. He could stare at her face for hours. Periodically over the years, he’d wondered what kind of woman she’d become, and his imagination hadn’t done her justice.

Her cheekbones, which had been round and full in youth, now arched high with the grace and beauty of maturity. Her skin was still as clear and perfect as it had always been, showcasing her pretty brown eyes and full berry-colored lips. Watching those lips, Gray couldn’t help thinking about kissing them.

Rennie shifted her weight from foot to foot as if she were waging an internal debate. She still had the telltale habit of tapping her fingers on her thigh when she was conflicted.

“Rennie, we can do this another time,” Gray said, trying to give her an out. It probably wasn’t a good idea, anyway.

His voice seemed to bring her to a decision. “No, um, I really want to talk. Otherwise, I’ll keep thinking about you—” She stopped abruptly and shook her head. “Not that there’s anything wrong with thinking about you. That’s not what I meant…”

Gray laughed. “I know what you meant.” Last night, he’d mistaken her fluster for fear. It was a relief to know that she didn’t think he was some kind of monster.

“Would you like to come back to my apartment? This isn’t a come-on or anything. It’s just that restaurants are noisy, and there isn’t a lot of privacy with the waiters coming back and forth. My refrigerator isn’t exactly fully stocked, but I’m sure we could scrape something up. I just don’t want you to think—”

He reached out to touch the hand rapidly drumming on her leg, to halt both her fidgeting and her anxious ramble. “I’m not going to get any ideas. I promise. We’ll just talk, okay?”

She nodded, clearly relieved. “Do you want to follow me? My apartment isn’t far.”

As Gray followed Rennie’s lime green 1999 Volkswagen Beetle, he tried not to dwell on this reckless decision. He needed to see her. Once they talked about old times over a bite to eat, he’d go back to work at the club and put Rennie in a neat little package labeled the past. Maybe he’d be able to reopen that package one day, but for now, this one evening was all he could allow himself.

Twenty minutes later they pulled into a sophisticated apartment complex. She may work six blocks from the old neighborhood, but Rennie Williams had chosen to live in the suburbs. He couldn’t fault her for that.

She parked her car and waited for him in front of the building.

“How long have you been living here?” he asked as they rode up on the elevator.

“A year next month.”

“What made you come back? I thought when you left for Texas, you would end up settling down there.”

Rennie sighed, as though thinking carefully about his question. “Well, after I got my Ph.D., I was teaching undergrad classes. One of my colleagues knew I had an interest in women’s issues, so he told me there was a slot opening up at the L.A. Help Center. A literacy group had just relocated, and the Help Center board wanted to start a program targeted specifically to women,” she said, unlocking her apartment door. “This is it.” Rennie stepped back so he could precede her inside.

“This is a nice place. It’s definitely you.”

Though the room didn’t look anything like Rennie’s old bedroom, being inside her apartment gave him the same feeling. There weren’t any beefcake posters or stuffed animals, but he could see hints of his old Rennie in this more mature and stylish room.

She still loved flowers. Instead of dotting her wallpaper, they were displayed in silk arrangements throughout the apartment. And she hadn’t lost her appreciation for LL Cool J. Instead of hanging on her closet doors, he dominated the CD collection in the rack beside the stereo.

And there were new sides of her Gray hadn’t experienced. Like the fact that she liked Japanese artwork. The room had elaborately painted silk screens and ornate fans hanging on the walls.

He moved to the bookshelf. “When did you start reading romance novels?”

“I use them at the Center to show battered women what a healthy relationship can be like. Since then, I’ve become a fan myself.”

Gray continued to move around the room, asking Rennie about the knickknacks or gadgets he came across. Each item was like a puzzle piece, completing his picture of the woman Rennie had become.

Finally he picked up a tiny frame, featuring an abstract collage of music notes with a French quote in the center. “Every soul is a melody which needs renewing,” he read aloud.

Rennie turned. “Is that what it says? My friend Alise gave that to me because she liked the design. Since we’d both taken Spanish in high school, neither one of us could read the quote.”

Gray realized immediately that he’d made a mistake.

“When did you learn to speak French?”

He couldn’t tell her that since he’d joined SPEAR he’d become fluent in five languages, including French. Normally, sticking to his cover wasn’t a problem, but because Rennie was tied to his past, things were complicated.

“No, I don’t speak French. I’ve seen that frame before. The translation was written on a sticker on the back. I guess I just have a really good memory.”

She studied him for a long moment. “I see. Well, make yourself comfortable while I see what kind of leftovers I have in the kitchen.”

A few minutes later, Rennie entered the room. “I hope you aren’t too hungry because all I have in the fridge are a pitiful collection of leftovers.”

“I’m starving.” Gray rubbed his grumbling stomach.

Rennie bit her lip. “We can order pizza.”

“Let me take a look,” he said, following her into the kitchen. “Remember, we used to come up with all sorts of masterpieces in your dad’s kitchen.”

“Oh, yeah.” Rennie laughed out loud. “It’s all coming back to me, and, as I recall, they were anything but masterpieces.”

After opening a few cabinets and carefully inspecting the refrigerator, Gray nodded to Rennie with confidence. “Looks like we have enough scraps here for a delicious Everything Stew.”

Rennie nodded. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Just point me in the right direction.”

Gray was very at home in the kitchen. Rennie showed him where things were, and he was off and running.

Fifteen minutes later, Gray inhaled the zesty vapor rising off their Everything Stew. Pleased, he glanced at Rennie chopping carrots. “This is going to be a good one.”

She peeked over the edge of the pot. “It’s getting there,” she said, dropping a handful of carrot chunks into the mixture.

He stirred the pot, watching the colors swirl together until a jumble of vivid memories began to bubble out of the stew along with the steam. “Remember the tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches we used to make?”

“Ugh.” Rennie crinkled her nose. “That sounds so gross now. I can’t believe we used to eat those.”

“We ate ’em and loved ’em. They weren’t so bad. Not much different than a BLT…without the B and the L.”

Rennie laughed, placing a lid on the pot so the stew could simmer. “That’s true. I guess tomato sandwiches weren’t the worst concoctions we came up with.”

Gray leaned against the counter, admiring the pristine condition of her kitchen. Clearly, she didn’t like cooking any more now than she had when she was sixteen. The only well-used item in the room was her microwave.

“I think our worst culinary experiment was our homemade macaroni and cheese.”

“I get sick just thinking about it,” Rennie said, clutching her stomach. “You know, I don’t think I’ve eaten macaroni and cheese since that day.”

“That makes two of us. The macaroni and cheese disaster also put an end to our little kitchen experiments. After that we confined our after-school snacks to grilled cheese sandwiches or cereal.”

“I think you are responsible for my fear of cooking,” she said, removing the lid on the pot to stir their stew. “Thanks to you, I must exist on all things microwavable.”

“Don’t blame me for that. In fact, you should be thanking me. Neither of us had a microwave back then. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t know how to work any kitchen appliances.”