Chapter Sixty
V ickie still hadn’t called him back. He’d tried to get in touch with her a handful of times now, and had even left messages. But she hadn’t returned any of them. At first, he’d tried to convince himself that it was probably just because she was out of town for Thanksgiving. But he’d left a message since then and still gotten no response. He had no idea what he should do. Sure, he’d considered showing up on her doorstep. But that seemed very confrontational. She must not want to speak to him, otherwise, she’d call him back.
These past few weeks, he’d been surprised to find that Vickie was the one person he wanted to talk to the most about what was going on with Katherine and Jane. This situation was way out of his comfort zone. He needed help. But the thought of saying that out loud wasn’t appealing.
So he’d decided to be sneaky. Jason Redd had left a message last week about his volleyball team. It would be a lot of the same guys who’d played softball, and Jason’s message invited Thatcher to join in. They played on Thursday nights.
After grading his last final on Thursday, Thatcher donned his athletic gear as if he were just another guy going to play a couple volleyball games. Except that in reality, he was going in the hopes that Vickie’s friend Dawn would be in the audience. Maybe he could get some information from her as to what was going on inside Vickie’s head.
“Hey man,” Jason called once Thatcher arrived inside the gym. The basketball court was divided into two sections tonight, so two volleyball games could be played at once. “We’re on Court A.” Jason pointed toward one of the courts where several guys were volleying the ball back and forth across the net. “I’m glad you could come, otherwise we’d be a man short.”
“I could use some exercise.” Thatcher grinned. “It’s been a pretty stressful week.” That might’ve been the understatement of the decade, but Jason didn’t need to know that.
“I’ll go put you on the roster.” Jason jogged off toward one of the officials who sat in the front row, holding a clipboard.
Thatcher took the opportunity to scan the crowd. He spotted Dawn sitting midway up the bleachers. She was watching him. He nodded in her direction and she waved. According to the clock there were still ten minutes before game time. Without another thought, he started up the bleachers. At this point, he could use any help he could get.
Her black dress and heels were out of place in the old gymnasium. She must’ve come straight from work. “Hi,” he said. “How are you?”
She regarded him coolly for a moment, her blue eyes narrowed. “Fancy seeing you here.” She patted the seat next to her. “Have a seat.”
He obliged. “I wanted to talk to you about—”
She cut him off. “You want to know how Vickie’s doing.” Dawn tossed her blonde waves. “Let me guess. She’s still not taking your calls?”
“So I guess you heard about what happened.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “There’s an explanation.”
She held up a manicured hand. “Save it.” She flashed him a smile. “Look, Thatcher, I think you’re probably a very nice man. But Vickie’s my friend. And you haven’t really treated her very well.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “She spent Thanksgiving in bed watching movies and trying to forget how much you hurt her.”
He drew his face back like he’d been slapped. “But there’s an explanation for why I hadn’t told her everything about my past.”
Dawn shook her head. “Don’t you get it? It isn’t just that you weren’t totally upfront with her. It’s also that you’ve been lukewarm toward her from the beginning.”
Thatcher was silent. “Lukewarm?”
“You gave her just enough attention to keep her hanging on. Am I right? But as soon as the two of you started to get close, you pulled back.” She raised a perfect eyebrow. “Now I’m sure some of that has to do with whatever it is you’ve been hiding. But still, that’s no way to treat a woman. Did you ever tell her how you felt?”
He was speechless. In hindsight, he probably had acted that way. But it was only because he’d felt like he wasn’t good enough for Vickie. Not because he didn’t care about her. And hadn’t his feelings for her been obvious? “What should I do?”
Dawn let out a chuckle. “Uh uh. This one you’re going to need to figure out all by yourself. You know Vickie. In fact, she seems to think you know her pretty well. So you need to figure this out on your own.” She grinned. “I shouldn’t have even told you this much. The truth is, Vickie already has a date with someone else. Someone who pursues her and sends her sweet text messages and tells her she’s pretty. But I like you. So I’ll give you a hint.” She leaned toward him. “Think about Vickie’s favorite movies. They all have something in common.”
His mind raced. He did know her favorite movies. All chick flicks. He could see her movie collection now, all lined up on her bookshelf. How many times had he teased her about being a hopeless romantic? “Something in common?”
“That’s all you’re getting.” Dawn motioned toward the court. “Looks like they’re ready for you.”
He stood and made his way slowly down the bleachers. “Good luck,” Dawn called.
Thatcher knew her words had nothing to do with the volleyball game.
∞∞∞
Sunday afternoon, Thatcher settled onto his leather couch. Yesterday, he’d gone to Goodwill and cleaned them out of movies he knew were on Vickie’s shelf. At only two dollars each, it paid off that he was apparently one of the only remaining people in the free world who still owned a DVD player.
He’d started his movie marathon last night with Say Anything and Sixteen Candles. If Vickie liked these movies enough to name her pets after the lead characters, it must mean something. But after viewing, he wasn’t sure what to think. He couldn’t figure out what their connection was.
When he’d found himself getting a little teary-eyed at the end of Titanic, he feared the ownership of a romance movie collection might’ve depleted his testosterone supply. The last time he could remember tearing up over something he saw on TV was during the televised funeral of Ronald Reagan. Of course, mourning the loss of his favorite American president justified tears a lot more than a chick flick. He didn’t know what was wrong with him.
So after Jack had faded into the abyss of the sea and old lady Rose had thrown the big diamond in after him, Thatcher took a man-break. He and Buster went for a run through the neighborhood and when he got home, he turned the channel to ESPN for the rest of the night.
Today, it was time for round two. First up, Fools Rush In , followed by An Affair to Remember and finally Sabrina. He balanced them out by wearing a faded Vanderbilt football shirt he’d had for at least ten years and eating an entire pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.
Six hours later, he paced the length of the living room, Buster at his heels. One by one, Thatcher went over each movie in his mind. Lloyd Dobler held up a boom box and played a sappy song. Jake Ryan had a red sports car and rescued Samantha from her sister’s wedding reception. Jack put Rose up on that piece of board so she could stay alive. Matthew Perry went to Mexico to find Selma Hayack. Cary Grant waited at the top of the Empire State Building for Debra Kerr. And Harrison Ford as Linus Larrabee had gotten on an airplane, even though he’d never flown, and had gone all the way to Paris to find Sabrina. There must be a common denominator in there somewhere.
Thatcher stopped pacing. What did he know about Vickie? He grabbed a pen and began to make a list. She was smart. She liked pretty clothes. She had a close relationship with her Gram. She loved to cook and entertain.
What else? She made him want to be a better man. A Godly man. The kind of man she deserved. He thought about how she’d exclaimed over her friend’s wedding in Tennessee, and how the groom had surprised the bride by giving her the wedding of her dreams.
Suddenly, it all clicked into place. He knew what he had to do. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.