The Ones That Got Away Page 4

  “He remembers the World Series. You really enjoyed yourself, if I remember correctly.” Melanie laughed and winked at Scott.

  The previous October—which, for Scott, was in his previous life—Melanie showed just how much of a Cardinals fan she really was. She and Scott had gone with a group of friends to The Regulator, a local bar, to watch the World Series, sitting at the same table each game. The more Melanie drank, the more excited she became. And the more excited she became, the more she hung on Scott. If the Cardinals made a good defensive play, she gave Scott a tight hug. A hit earned him a kiss. There were times she practically straddled him.

  After a Cardinals victory, they made love until the early morning. It had been more than twenty years, but the memory of that World Series was vivid in Scott’s mind.

  Later in the afternoon, the group thinned out. When Scott and Melanie were alone, they walked to a small public park nearby. There wasn’t much to the park, just a grassy area, a swing set, and a few benches. The sun struggled to shine through the leaves and branches of a nearby oak tree. They each sat on a swing. Scott swung gently, his face to the sky and his eyes closed. He couldn’t remember a time he felt so content.

  “What are you thinking,” Melanie asked.

  “I’m thinking about you and how happy you make me.”

  “Are you really happy?”

  “I am,” he said. “How about you?”

  “I’m happy, but I’m also worried.”

  Scott looked at Melanie. “Worried about what?”

  Melanie stared at the ground, not moving. “About your friends,” she said. “I don’t think they like me very much. They look down on me because I’m not in law school.”

  “Mel, that’s not true.” Scott stopped swinging. “They like you. And they don’t care if you’re in law school or not. They really don’t.”

  “It’s like your parents,” she said. “They don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

  They’d had this argument many times—mostly when Melanie had been drinking—and there was no way to convince her that she was wrong. “We should get going,” he said.

  “You just don’t want to talk to me about this.”

  “We can talk in the car,” he said. “But we should go.”

  What Scott really wanted was to leave Augusta before dark. The road leading out of town—Route 94—was steep, narrow, and curvy.

  They walked to the car in silence. Melanie sat slumped in the passenger seat, her body turned away from Scott. Melanie was a warm, funny, caring person who people liked. He tried to explain this to her on more than one occasion, but it never made a difference.

  They had been driving on Route 94 for several minutes when Melanie suddenly sat up in her seat. “Stop the car,” she shouted.

  She pulled this trick before. She wanted to walk home. He ignored her.

  “Scott, pull over.”

  “I’m not going to let you walk home, Mel.”

  “No, just pull over.”

  Melanie’s eyes had gone wide. She looked desperate. Scott slowed and pulled over to the side of the road. Before he brought the car to a complete stop, Melanie opened the door and vomited. Her retching was loud and seemed to take all the energy she could muster. When she finished, she fell back into her seat.

  “Are you okay?” Scott asked. She grunted an indistinct response and lay against the door. Scott drove carefully.

  It was almost dark when they went through Defiance and got on I-64 to head back to St. Louis. Melanie slept, leaving Scott with his thoughts.

  The earlier conversation with Rob made him think about baseball. He knew Baltimore and the White Sox were playing in the American League Championship Series, and Philadelphia and the Dodgers were playing in the National League. But he couldn’t remember who went to the World Series or who won. He remembered who won in 1984, and for several years after that, but the 1983 World Series was a mystery.

  What if he could make a lot of money gambling on baseball or any other sport? His memory wasn’t as good when it came to football, basketball, or hockey. But he knew baseball, and there was money to be made.

  If he had enough money, would he even finish law school? He could do anything, but he’d need a lump sum of cash to make it work. And, he needed to learn how to bet on baseball.

  Chapter 10

  November 1983

  The Orioles beat the Phillies in the 1983 World Series. Through every inning, Scott cursed himself for not remembering.

  He was also frustrated with law school. The classes dragged on. He was in the classroom five days a week and he had lost interest. He rarely studied, instead relying on memories from two decades earlier.

  Did he even want to be a lawyer? He’d done that. Why not try something new? He wasn’t sure what he would do but putting together a bankroll from sports bets would give him options.

  Since he wasn’t studying, he had time to work out. He’d grown soft and overweight in his previous life and didn’t want to let that happen again. He joined an intramural basketball team at school. All the working out and basketball was good for his body, which seemed to crave constant activity. It also kept him away from home two or three nights a week. Melanie liked coming home after work and spending time with him. She complained. Scott resisted. He thought she was being petty. They argued for a while, but Melanie finally gave up. She started hanging out with a group from work after hours. Initially, it was just an occasional dinner or happy hour, but it became an almost nightly affair, usually ending with Melanie coming home drunk and slurring daily complaints.

  Before Christmas break, Scott’s basketball team had their final game of the semester. He invited Melanie with hopes that they could go out with the team afterwards. Scott kept an eye out for her prior to the game, but he didn’t see her. When the game started, he tried to put Melanie out of his mind, but he kept turning toward the crowd, searching for her. At half-time, he walked out into the parking lot. She wasn’t there. He was pissed she had forgotten.

  He begged off going out with the team after the game, and rushed home to see if Melanie was there. She wasn’t.

  The ringing phone startled him.

  The person on the other end of the phone hesitated. “Is this Scott Thompson?” a woman asked.

  “Who is this?” He was in no mood for a telemarketer.

  “This is Gretchen Johnson from the St. Louis Police Department. I wanted to let you know that Melanie Abbott was involved in an accident near the zoo in Forest Park. She asked that we notify you.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know how the accident happened or if Ms. Abbott is hurt. I was just asked to notify you.”

  Scott rushed out. At the scene, there were two police cars and an ambulance. Melanie’s car was up against a tree with a tow truck preparing to tow it away. Scott pulled in next to one of the police cars and saw Melanie sitting in the back of the ambulance. He walked toward the ambulance but was stopped by a police officer.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  “That’s my girlfriend,” he said. “I got a call from the police to come here.”

  “Are you Scott Thompson?”

  Scott nodded. “I am.”

  “She’s been asking for you,” he said. “I want you to know that she’s been drinking. She says she only had a couple, but I’d wager she’s had quite a bit more. She’s pretty drunk.”

  “Is she under arrest?” Scott asked.

  “No. I didn’t do a breathalyzer, and I’d rather not arrest her this close to Christmas. Thankfully, no one else was involved.”

  Scott thanked the officer, who said Melanie was free to go as soon as the paramedic was done. The tow truck pulled Melanie’s car away from the tree and drove off.

  Melanie had a small cut above her eye, which the paramedic bandaged. He said he didn’t think she’d need stitches and didn’t think it would leave a scar. Melanie walked off, and Scott thanked the paramedic. Then, he hustled to catch up with
Melanie.

  “Please get me out of here,” she said when they were both in the car.

  At Scott’s apartment, she sat at the kitchen table while Scott made her hot tea.

  He softly set the mug in front of her and felt like he was walking on eggshells. He wanted to show her he was angry, but he didn’t want her to unleash on him. “Is the tea all right?”

  Melanie nodded. “It’s fine.” She took a sip then held the cup in both hands. “I’m sorry I missed your game. Did you win?”

  “How did you end up over in the park?”

  Melanie stared at the floor. When she looked up, her cheeks were flushed. “I’m not sure.” She smiled unconvincingly. “I was running late and was on my way to the game. The next thing I knew, I hit the tree.”

  Scott felt the dual need to hug her and yell at her. Someone could have been killed. She could have been killed. He nodded and watched her sip tea.

  The next morning, Melanie’s eye was swollen shut and she was sore all over. She called in sick to work, and they spent the morning together, talking and listening to music. After lunch, they napped, and for dinner they ordered Imo’s Pizza. While they waited for the delivery, Scott opened a bottle of beer.

  “Can I have one of those?” Melanie asked.

  “You want a beer?

  “Is there anything wrong with that?”

  Scott hesitated, then pulled a beer out of the refrigerator.

  After dinner, Scott sat down in the living room to watch TV. Melanie joined him a few minutes later with a large glass filled almost to the top. She gulped the drink and sat next to Scott on the couch.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Seagram’s and Seven-Up.” She took another gulp.

  “I thought you were a beer and wine girl.”

  “I’m broadening my horizons.” She giggled.

  For as long as he had known her, she had only drunk beer and wine. In college, she claimed she didn’t like the harder stuff.

  “Is that what you were drinking last night?” Scott intended to make a joke, but it came out more accusatory than funny.

  Melanie sat up. “Are you going to start lecturing me about my drinking habits?”

  “What you do is your business,” Scott said a little too quickly. “Just an innocent question.” The question wasn’t innocent, and Melanie didn’t bother to answer.

  What was the harm in Melanie having a couple of drinks after work? Hadn’t he done the same thing in his life with Kathy? She just overdid it the previous night. He was certainly no teetotaler.

  When the TV show ended, Melanie got up to fix another drink.

  “I think I’m going to go to bed,” Scott said. “Join me?”

  “I’m going to stay up for a while.”

  It was unusual for them not to go to bed together, and Scott didn’t like it. But what could he say?

  He lay in bed and listened to the hushed voices on the TV. After a few minutes he heard Melanie get up from the couch. He hoped she was coming to bed, but instead ice cubes plopped into a glass. Bottles clinked. A swoosh of carbonation escaped a soda bottle. Melanie wouldn’t be coming to bed for a while.

  Chapter 11

  December 1983

  For Christmas, Melanie went to her parents and Scott went to his. They weren’t married yet, and each was expected to spend the holidays with their families.

  Scott found being at home with his family strange. He was technically sixty-seven years old, older than his parents. It was also strange that he knew precisely when his father would die.

  Scott enjoyed spending time with his dad. It had been too long since they had been able to sit and talk. He felt the urge to tell his dad what he was going through, to have his dad break character and spill the beans about what was really going on. Scott dropped subtle hints into their conversation. He mentioned Kathy. His father didn’t seem to know who he was talking about. He told his dad about a dream he’d had where both he and his father were sitting on a park bench in New York City. He father feigned mild interest but offered none of the information Scott hoped for.

  Despite the strange circumstances, Scott enjoyed the time he spent with his family. His younger sister was home from college and his brother, a senior in high school, was preparing for a basketball tournament. He had already seen them both grow up, get married, and have kids of their own. Soon, Bonnie would become a teacher. She’d have two daughters before divorcing her husband and moving back in with their mom after their dad’s death. Steve would become a dentist and a born-again Christian. But for now, they were blank canvases.

  His mom was as frenetic as ever. She constantly moved about, cooking dinner, baking pies, cleaning up a mess, straightening out the ornaments on the Christmas tree. There was a clear division of labor between his parents. Dad brought home the money, Mom took care of the kids. Dad did the yardwork, Mom the housework. Things seemed so simple. Or maybe it just seemed simple to his eyes.

  Kathy lived in Naperville, Illinois, about twenty minutes from his home in Bolingbrook. He decided to drive to Naperville, even if just to see her from afar. When they were married, Kathy spoke about Christmas with her family. When she told those stories, she always sounded so happy. He wanted to see her that happy for himself.

  It didn’t take long to get to Kathy’s parent’s house. It seemed odd that the woman he was going to marry—or had married—lived so close at the time and he wasn’t aware of it, like she had been there waiting for him the whole time. Kathy was a freshman at University of Illinois, so he assumed she would be home for the holidays. He drove around the block a couple of times, but there was no sign of her.

  On his third trip around the block, Kathy came out with another girl and got into a newer model, blue, Mercury Cougar. They took off, and Scott followed as inconspicuously as possible. They weaved through several side streets, Scott staying a few car lengths behind. He felt like a bumbling cop on his first stakeout. He had to speed through a yellow light to keep up. Finally, they pulled into a crowded parking lot at the Fox Valley Mall. By the time Scott found a parking spot, he had lost sight of them.

  People returning Christmas gifts crowded the mall. It took Scott nearly twenty minutes to find her. She was in the food court with her friend, and they were talking to a couple of guys. Kathy wore multi-colored wool leggings and a jean jacket. Her hair was big and puffy. Her friend wore some sort of ruffled blue skirt, with a matching top that had exaggerated shoulders. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head, held in place with a big blue bow. Even though he wasn’t used to the 80’s fashion, he smiled at how fantastic Kathy looked. She was not who he had married. Not yet. When he first met her in 1988, she seemed unaware of her good looks. It was one of the things that endeared her to him.

  The guys didn’t look quite as 1980’s chic. They both wore jeans. One wore a Hill Street Blues T-shirt and a jean jacket. The other wore a sweater and leather jacket.

  The guys took off, and the two women wandered aimlessly around the mall, not seeming to have anywhere in particular they wanted to go. They were just killing time. When Kathy’s friend went into the bathroom, Kathy waited in the hallway for her. Scott wanted to approach her and introduce himself. He wanted to ask her out and get to know her, but he knew he couldn’t, or shouldn’t. He knew he hadn’t been given another shot at life just so he could get back together with Kathy. What would be the point?

  And yet, he felt drawn to her. This woman—or the woman she would become—had been his wife. Their relationship eventually went bad, but for a while it was very good. Maybe he’d been given another chance to build a relationship with Kathy that started good and stayed good.

  He approached her. “I hope this doesn’t come off as too forward, but I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Scott Thompson.” He offered his hand.

  Kathy’s cheeks flushed and she shook his hand. “I’m Kathy Fitzgerald.” Her voice was tentative.

  “Are you a student?”

  “I go to the Universit
y of Illinois.” She had trouble looking him in the eye.

  “I go to Washington University down in St. Louis.”

  She nodded, then looked at the ground. Scott had never seen her this shy.

  “I’m just home for Christmas break. Would you like to get a drink before I head back?”

  Kathy’s entire face turned red. “I don’t think I can. I’m seeing someone.”

  Scott hadn’t even considered that she might be dating someone else. Before he responded, her friend came out of the bathroom.

  Kathy grabbed her friend’s arm. “We’re running late, so we have to go.” Her friend looked confused but went along with Kathy when she dragged her away. “It was nice meeting you,” she said. The two girls hustled away, giggling as they went.

  Scott felt foolish. He had just gotten blown off by the woman he had once called his wife. Of course, she didn’t know him from Adam, and apparently didn’t want to get to know him. What a dope. He knew this life wasn’t meant for him to date Kathy, but he couldn’t help himself.

  Scott left the mall and drove back to his parents. He took a deep breath. Maybe he had made a fool of himself, but what difference did it make? He was in no worse position than he had been before he tracked Kathy down. Sure, it hurt, but in the big picture, it didn’t change anything.

  *

  When he got back to his parents’ house, he found his dad in the living room by himself watching TV. “Hey, you got a second?”

  “What’s up?”

  “I want to give you something to think about. You’ve talked about quitting smoking in the past. How about if you really do it?”

  His dad laughed. “I wish it was that easy. What prompted this?”

  “I’m worried about you, Dad, and I’d like to have you around for as long as possible.”

  “I appreciate that, Champ. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll give it some thought.”

  Scott wanted to tell his dad that if he didn’t stop smoking, he’d die in August 1995. But how could he explain how he knew. There’s no way he could get his dad to believe him, so he changed the subject.