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Anniversary
At Martino's restaurant, Claire Newberry sat at a window table. She glanced out at the front parking lot and watched the cars speed by on busy Route 206. Ten years ago, she'd sat at this very spot, only she hadn't been alone. Ten years ago she'd held hands with Tom Lemansky, had gazed into his azure eyes, and had been very much in love.
Nibbling on the fresh fruit appetizer, she watched the New Jersey sky slowly darken. She shouldn't have come; she lived miles from Sommerville, and she hated driving at night. But she'd made the reservation weeks ago; she'd even arranged to have a sitter for the kids. Tonight was special, something of an anniversary for her. Ten years ago tonight had been the last time she'd basked in the glow of Tom's unforgettable love.
In a way, this dinner was a tribute to Tom, or perhaps an apology. She'd been young and foolish then--only twenty--just a child, for goodness sake. And she had been very, very jealous.
A spoonful of the lemon sorbet topping the fruit slid down Claire's throat. She savored its tangy favor, as she had that fateful night, but its sweetness couldn't erase the memory of her harsh words with Tom. She'd accused him of flirting with every living female, even their waitress.
Fool! She'd pushed him away--forever, and her pride had prevented her from admitting she'd made a terrible mistake.
Brushing back her wavy, shoulder-length hair, she fingered the diamond pendant resting above the curve of her evening dress. Tom had given her the jewel and she treasured it. Although thankful for the many blessings she had in her life--especially her two wonderful children, at times she still wondered about what might have been. Lately, it seemed she wondered about the past a lot. If only she hadn't been so jealous....
A car door's slam riveted Claire's attention, and the lemon sorbet caught in her throat. In the parking lot, she watched a tall, handsome man with a thatch of dark hair open the passenger door for a lady.
Tom! It couldn't be. Her imagination was playing tricks on her--torturing her. Goodness, the man looked exactly as she remembered Tom.
Half-rising from her chair, she stopped, then slowly sank back down. No. It couldn't possibly be him. As the man's beautiful companion got out of the car, Claire turned away from the window and speared a piece of cantaloupe. Funny how her mind made her see what she wanted to see.
Not that she wanted to see Tom. He was probably married, or living the life of a playboy bachelor. Why would he want to renew the acquaintance of a slightly shrewish, blonde divorcée?
After the server refilled her glass of white Chablis, Claire brought the goblet to her lips--then froze. The restaurant hostess escorted that same man and his raven-haired girlfriend... or wife... to the table diagonally across from Claire. She didn't get a clear view of his face, just the rugged curve of his cheek, his determined chin, and his straight, classic nose.
Tom. Dear Lord, it was Tom. Her appetite vanishing as if it had never been, Claire stared at the Veal Parmesan her server had just placed in front of her. He might as well take it back to the kitchen for all the appeal the food now held.
Fortunately, Tom sat with his strong, muscular back to her so she could gaze at him without discovery. His thick, black hair had only the faintest hint of silver. She longed to run her fingers though his hair, to once again enjoy its wiry texture. The sweetest daydreams flitted through her mind, and she smiled, reliving memories from the past.
Tom's companion caught her staring at him. Flushing, Claire concentrated on cutting her veal. It would be a miracle if she got through this evening. Maybe she should just get up and leave?
She felt, rather than saw him stand by her side. “Claire?”
His deep voice sent tingles down to her toes just as it had ten years ago. Gathering her waning courage, she looked up at him. “Oh, T--Tom! This is s--such a surprise.” Could he see her lips trembling? Did he mind that she sounded so inane? She hid her shaking hands under the table.
“Claire, it is you! I can't believe my good luck! I was just thinking about you.” He placed his hand on the seat opposite hers. “May I sit?”
A lump rose in her throat. Instead of trusting her voice, she nodded her reply. For a moment, she drank in the sight of him, then dropped her gaze. He'd hardly changed. Other than a few creases around his eyes, he looked the same as when she'd told him good-bye.
With his fingertips, he lightly skimmed her cheek. “This is incredible. I never expected to see you again. You're still as lovely as I remember.” His blue eyes blazed intently. “After all this time,... here we are.”
Unspoken words hovered in the air. He took a deep breath, then continued, “I probably shouldn't tell you this but, after we broke up, I traveled cross country. I thought I could clear my head. When I got back here, I tried to call you a few times. Found out you had married. So I figured, what the heck? I accepted a job in California. Been there ever since.”
His gaze seemed to caress her. “I've missed you, Claire.”
“I--I've missed you, too, Tom.” How could she have been such a fool? A watery mist threatened to obscure her vision, and she blinked rapidly. She was not going to cry.
He reached over and picked up the diamond around her neck. His warm touch burned her skin. “How strange it is that we're here at Martino's, sitting at this table--tonight, of all nights. Seeing you dressed like this.” He dropped the pendant. “Where's your husband?”
Did Tom realize tonight was their anniversary? No, he couldn't. That was only wishful thinking on her part. She shrugged. “I'm divorced, but I have two great kids.”
“I'd like to meet them.”
He sounded as if he meant that. Danny and Rachel would love Tom. Just as she loved Tom.
Feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up onto her cheeks, she gestured over at his companion. “What about you? You'd better be getting back to your, er, wife or she'll become jealous."
Instead of shooting daggers at Claire, the other woman waved. Then she said something to a man who had just arrived at the table. He sat, then also waved at her. Who was he? Claire didn't understand.
“Jealous?” Tom's carefree laughter made Claire smile in spite of her heartache. “Honey, I thought you knew. I'm visiting my sister and her husband. She spotted you--she's seen your picture in my wallet often enough.”
Clasping her hands in his, he said huskily, “I've never married, Claire. The only woman I want to be jealous over me is you. Although there's no need to be jealous. Not ten years ago and certainly not now.”
“Tom, I want you to know I'm sorry about what happened between us. I was too young to admit I'd made a mistake. I--”
The impact of his words hit. “What are you saying?” she whispered.
His eyes sparkled with reassurance. “I love you, Claire. I've never stopped loving you. And I promise I won't let you get away again.”
Tears, threatening before, became a reality. “Oh, Tom, I love you too.”
Leaning across the table, he started their new life together with a kiss--a kiss that was a thousand times better than any of her memories.
“Happy anniversary, darling.”
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