“I can have her send you some, like she did in the hospital,” Valerie suggested.
“If I sit here, watching TV and eating mashed potatoes and mac and cheese for the next three weeks, I’m going to weigh four hundred pounds by the Super Bowl, and I won’t look so good on air. It’s driving me nuts that I can’t do any exercise, but the doctor says not yet.” He was normally a very active man, although the herniated disk two months before had slowed him down too. He worried about getting fat. “So how about dinner and a movie?”
“I’d love to. Can we make it a little bit late?” She had been planning to work at home that night, but if she stayed late enough at the office, she could get a lot done. Sometimes it was hard juggling a social life and work, and her priority was always her job. “Does eight-thirty work for you?”
“That sounds fine. I was going to suggest that anyway. I have a physical therapist coming at seven to work on the leg.”
“Perfect. Do you want me to pick something up for dinner?” she offered.
“Don’t worry. I’ll order in. I’m good at that.” He laughed. “See you later,” he signed off, sounding happy, and so was she. It was fun having a buddy to spend time with. She knew a lot of people, but they were busy too. And normally, he had a very active social life, but now that he was housebound he had more time on his hands than usual, and after what he had done for her, she was more than happy to visit him while he convalesced. It seemed like the least she could do. And she enjoyed his company.
She picked up some magazines and a book for him at a newsstand, leaving work. She didn’t have time to go home and change. And she arrived at his apartment promptly, looking slightly frazzled and a little bit out of breath. She hadn’t combed her hair or put on lipstick since noon. She hadn’t had time to think of it all day. She was wearing casual slacks and a sweater, a parka, and flat shoes, since she hadn’t been on air that day. She’d been at her desk since early morning, except for her lunch with April. It had been a full day of making decisions and plans for future shows, selecting samples, guests, and topics they wanted to cover. She always did that at this time of year, mapping out the shows. It was going to help her a lot when Dawn started the following week. Valerie just hoped she’d be as efficient as she had seemed in the interview.
Jack opened the door, perched on his crutches in sweatpants and bare feet. The nurse didn’t seem to be around. And odors of something delicious were wafting from the kitchen. He had ordered Indian food, spicy for him, and mild for her in case she preferred it.
“Something smells great,” she commented as she took off her jacket. He had music playing on the stereo, and she followed him into the kitchen as she had on New Year’s Eve. He had ordered a ton of food, and it was still warm enough to eat. So they sat down at the kitchen table quickly after she set it.
“I’m beginning to feel like I live here,” she teased him, since she knew where everything was now. And they talked about her day and what she’d done. He told her about a football scandal he’d been following all day. He was planning to do a show about it once he was back on his feet. It was a lively exchange. Then they discussed network politics, which were always complicated. There were rumors that the head of the network was leaving, which was a concern in terms of the impact it could have, but both of their situations were secure. No one was going to get rid of Valerie Wyatt, and he was the biggest sportscaster on TV. But nothing in television was ever totally sure.
There was a lot of talk too about the recent terrorist attack. It was still all over the news. Official groups all over the Middle East were in an uproar about it, and wanted no association with it. They were furious over the damage it had done to their image and worried about the impact on their relationships with the U.S. They had all expressed sympathy over the lives that had been lost. And the president and governor were trying to reassure the public that nothing like it could ever happen again, but they knew it could. No one was safe anymore. And hardest for those who had lived through it were the friends and co-workers they had lost, like Jack and Valerie with their assistants.
By the time they finished dinner, both of them were tired and relaxed. They walked up to his den, and forgot about the movie as they talked. There seemed to be a thousand topics they were interested in and had opinions on, and they watched a few minutes of
“You’re still coming, right?” he asked, looking worried, and she smiled at him.
“I wouldn’t miss it. April was impressed that I’m going. I like your idea about continuing to open doors and explore new things. I told her about it at lunch.” She was tempted again to tell him about the baby, but didn’t. She just couldn’t bring herself to admit to being a grandmother yet. Maybe when she saw the baby she’d feel differently. But right now all it was to her was an assault on her vanity, a confirmation of her age, and a worry for her about April. “She’s juggling an awful lot these days,” she said cryptically to Jack, without saying more.
“She always does. She’s an incredibly competent young woman. She runs that restaurant like a Swiss clock. I suspect she learned that from you.” He smiled at Valerie. He already had a sense of how organized she was. He was a little more haphazard about how he approached things, but he got a lot done too. Except for now. He was going stir-crazy being stuck at home. He had worked hard with the therapist in the gym in his apartment. The bullet had done more damage than he thought, and the leg was still painful and very weak.
They were both surprised to discover that it was midnight by the time they stopped talking. Valerie put on her parka and bundled up. It was cold outside and had started snowing during the evening. It looked like a Christmas card, and Jack looked forlorn as she got ready to leave, although she could see that he was tired.
“I’m sorry I can’t walk you home.” He would have liked to, but there was no way he could. “Maybe you should take a cab. It’s late.” He didn’t want her to get mugged on the way home, but Valerie smiled.
“I’ll be fine. It’s nice to get some air.” And it was so pretty while it snowed, until the next day when it turned into a mess.
“Thanks for coming to see me,” he said, looking boyish. “I like hanging out with you,” he said, as he pulled her gently toward him as he leaned on his crutches. “You’re good company, Valerie,” he said, and meant it.
“So are you.” She smiled shyly, feeling different vibes from him than she had before, and she wasn’t sure what they were. Probably nothing. They just liked each other, and were both lonely and bored. And the aftermath of the attack had shaken them both up. Valerie still got anxious every day when she went to work and walked into the building. And although Jack had gone to April’s restaurant with her once, he seemed to prefer staying home in his cocoon where he felt safe, and didn’t feel ready to go out again. It had affected both of them more than they’d realized at first, but they’d been warned that that could happen, and more than likely would. There was no way to survive something as traumatizing as that without aftershocks. They’d been told to expect to experience aftereffects of the trauma for as much as a year.
“Will you come back tomorrow?” he asked, still holding on to her jacket, as though trying to keep her from running away. She laughed at his question, and was touched by the look in his eyes.
“You’re going to get tired of me if I come every day, silly,” she teased him.
“We didn’t watch the movie. We could watch it tomorrow night.” He sounded needy suddenly, which seemed unlike him, and she was sure it was a result of what he’d been through, and a sign of post-traumatic stress.
“I have to go to a network dinner tomorrow night,” she said with regret, and he looked startled.
“I was supposed to go to that too. I guess I can’t, or shouldn’t. I hate those things anyway.”
“So do I, but they’re command performances. And I have no excuse. I didn’t get shot in the leg. You’re off the hook.”
“I’ll call you,” he said, and they kissed each other on the cheek and she left.
She was walking down Fifth Avenue in the falling snow, thinking about him, and her cell phone rang. She thought it might be April, who often called her late when she closed. But it was Jack.
“Hi,” she said, as the snow fell on her head and wet her face. It felt great. “Did I forget something?”
“No. I was just thinking about you and wanted to say hello. How’s the snow?”
“Gorgeous,” she said, grinning. She hadn’t had a call like that from a man in years, for no reason at all. “You’ll be out in it again in no time.” She knew how restless and bored he was.
“Valerie, I really like you,” he said suddenly. “I love talking to you, and spending time with you.” And then he added, “And you’re a great cook.” She laughed.
“So are you.” They were living on takeout food, which wasn’t unfamiliar to her. “I have a good time with you too,” she said, as she stood at a corner, waiting for the light to change. She was halfway between his place and her own, with Central Park glistening white across the street, blanketed by the snow that had been falling that night.
“What if something happens between us?”
