Damned If I Do

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Damned If I Do Page 18

by M. J. Schiller


  I smiled. "That's right, we were. And I'd much rather do that than talk about my family any day. And that's good first date stuff, music."

  He shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so."

  "All right then. No more talk about that. We're going to celebrate together, that's all, no first date mumbo jumbo. And anything you could do to win me over, you've done. So let's forget about it, okay?"

  He laughed. "Okay."

  I turned on the radio. Spandau Ballet's "True" twirled through the speaker system and out to the car. I found myself missing Dani, but the comment came out automatically anyway. "He bought some ticket for the world? Dude. The world is free. You don't need a ticket, you dimwit."

  "Yeah," Kyle muttered. "And I've got a nice, little glow-in-the-dark house near Three Mile Island for ya, too." He shrugged. "But what can you expect from a guy who names his band Spandau Ballet?"

  I grinned. My Kyle was back.

  Tucker

  We returned to the cottage and did some packing, then the kids bunkered down in the bedroom, and Zoe read some of the storybooks Dani brought with Scott, Tabitha, Bowser, and Beverly all snuggled in beside her. Dani, of course, took a picture.

  I wandered out onto the patio and watched the twinkling of the stars taking over the watch from the sun hours ago. Dani came out after a while and pulled a chair in front of me and sat with a serious expression. She leaned forward, her arms on her knees, clasping her hands as she prepared what she wanted to say. She'd switched into baggie pink sweats and a white tank top and released her hair from its braid, making her look somehow vulnerable as she sat across from me.

  "I've been having dreams. About you..." she began.

  The topic of conversation surprised me. I smiled. "I've been having dreams about you, too."

  She blushed. "Not those kinds of dreams. I've had dreams... where we were together. Then—" She took a deep breath and charged on. "The same things happen to you that happened to Darren. Sometimes it's you, sometimes it's Darren, sometimes it changes in between."

  I took her hand. "Oh, sweetheart." I could see the pain on her face as clearly as I saw the joy on it when she talked to Sam earlier. "Dani, nothing like that will happen to me."

  "I know that in here." She tapped her head. "But... in here it's a different story." Her hand wavered over her heart. Her voice choked a little, and a few tears swelled out. I didn't know what to say. She sprang to her feet and paced around. "It's been happening since Denver. Not every night, but most nights."

  "Since you relived it by telling me about it." It all made sense now, her intense fear and sorrow manifested each night in her dreams. Her hands were shaking as she brought them up to push her hair back.

  "I can't sleep. It's like... right after it happened. Before I even knew about Tabby. But the dreams didn't come because I thought about the details again as I told you about them, they came because of the things I began to feel for you. Since we've been together, they've gotten worse."

  "I don't understand."

  She looked at me intently, as if she could burn understanding into my consciousness. "I can only lose what I have." Tears rolled down her face, unchecked. "If I don't love again, I can't lose like that. And I can't lose like that ever again. I wouldn't survive it, I swear."

  Tabby's voice drifted out from the living room. "Mommy?"

  Dani covered her face, turning away from the door. "Oh, no. I can't let her see me like this."

  "I'll take care of it," I reassured her. I gave her shoulder a squeeze and headed inside to find out what Tabby needed.

  When I came out again, Dani sat in her chair and seemed calmer. "What did she want?"

  "She's ready for bed. I told her you'd be there in a few minutes to tuck her in. But, by the way her eyes looked, I'm sure she'll drift off immediately." I sighed, crouching in front of her, my hands on her knees. "You told Samantha history won't repeat itself."

  "Tucker, all kinds of women have lost more than one husband."

  "But I'll be careful."

  "It won't matter. Darren was careful, too, but it didn't matter."

  Then why did you even bring me here? To twist me up inside again?

  And, as if hearing my thoughts, she answered, "After you left Colorado, I searched for you. I searched for you... because my father wrote me a letter. A letter about learning to love again after you've lost someone."

  I hung my head. "And you decided to try again," I said flatly.

  She nodded.

  I looked up, searching her face. "And now what?"

  "I don't know," she said, her voice small.

  I searched my brain for something to say, something that could get through to her. "You told Sam if history did repeat itself, you'd be there for her, exactly as she'd be for you if... something should happen."

  She nodded in an exaggerated manner. "I know, I know," she murmured. She grabbed her forehead, massaging her temples. "I can't think. I've got such a headache."

  I sighed, closing my eyes. Clearly I put too much pressure on her. "Hey." I stroked her hair and the side of her face. "Maybe you should try to get some rest."

  "I'm so tired, Tucker," she mumbled, and I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. "And I'm so tired of being tired."

  I stood, offering her my hand. "Come on. I'll tuck you in."

  She looked at me, smiling faintly, and I could make out the circles under her eyes now, her tears having washed away her makeup. "I need to check on Tabby," she said when we were inside. She brushed at her face, trying to remove any evidence of distress, and took a deep breath, pulling back her shoulders and pasting on a smile as she did so. She returned in a moment. "You're right. She passed out." I walked with her to her bedroom, holding her hand. "I'm going to wash my face." I sat on the end of the bed and waited while water ran in the sink. She came in after a few minutes and jumped on the bed in her tank and undies. I helped her fold down the covers, and she climbed in. I switched off the light, keeping the door open so the kids knew no "funny business" was happening inside.

  "I'll lie beside you for a minute." In response, she rolled on her side, and I matched her position behind her. She lifted her head, and I put my arm under it. Even though I wasn't happy about how things were going between us, being with her relaxed me. She tucked both of her hands under her cheek and quieted. I thought she drifted off to sleep, but fifteen minutes later her eyelashes fluttered against my arm. "Are you still awake?"

  She nodded. After several seconds, she admitted, "I'm afraid to go to sleep."

  My heart tightened in my chest. I felt so bad for her. I embraced her, pulling her closer to me, mumbling the only thing I could think of. "I'm right here. I'll be right here. Everything is okay."

  No one disturbed us. Either the kids, too, fell asleep, or they were engrossed in a movie. I got up after an hour and went to check. Somehow, I missed the noise of Scott unfolding the bed. He slept. Tabby was crashed in the same position, but Zoe still flipped through the channels.

  "It's after midnight, Zo."

  "All right." She clicked off the set. "Everything okay with Dani?"

  I came and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. She had taken out her contacts and put her glasses on, making her look much older and wiser. "She has a headache."

  "I'm going to miss these guys." She stretched out a hand and brushed it over Tabby's shoulder, then looked back at me. "This has been a great vacation. I'm so glad Dani asked us along."

  I stood, putting my hands in my jeans pockets. "Yeah. Me, too." I looked at Tabitha's sleeping form. She lay on her stomach, facing me, her cheeks rosy, her mouth open in an "O." Soft little breaths came out as she slept. I tore my eyes from her and bent to kiss Zoe on the forehead, cupping her neck with my hand and laying my head on hers for a second. It suddenly seemed incredibly heavy. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

  "Goodnight, Daddy." Zoe scrunched under the covers and pulled the blankets up, turning to face Tabby.

  "Do you need to brush your teeth?"

 
She yawned. "Uh-uh, I did it earlier."

  "Okay. I'll turn the light out then."

  At the door, I looked back. Light filtered in from the bulb above the stove, and the position of the door channeled it right into their faces. Zoe's eyes were still open, fixed on Tabby. I closed the door with a click.

  I went and stood at the slider, staring out at nothing.

  Twenty minutes had passed when a scream ripped through the air. I hurtled over furniture, oblivious to everything except the terror in that scream. I grasped the door frame to steady myself as I slid to a stop in front of Dani's room. I flipped the light on, and, although I knew one of her dreams probably woke her, relief still swept through me when no one lurked in the shadows. Heck, by the sound of the scream, I was relieved to see no blood splatter.

  Dani sat in bed, hair wild, a hand over her mouth, her breath coming in huge gulps. "I tried to stop it, Tucker. I did," she cried. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She shook her head, making her hair look even wilder. "It was so horribly real. Horribly."

  Scott appeared by my side, his eyes wide. "Is everything okay?"

  "Fine. Dani had a bad dream." I turned toward the other bedroom. "Did it wake—"

  "No." He shook his head. "I checked on them, and they're still asleep."

  Dani appeared to have brought her heartrate down, though mine still pounded. "I'm sorry, Scott."

  I blinked when he ran and jumped on the bed, throwing his arms around her.

  "I'm sorry I woke you." She kissed the top of his head.

  "No, that's okay," I heard him say, though her arms muffled his voice. "I woke you last night. Turn-around is fair play."

  She laughed and pulled away to look him in the face. "Thanks for saying that, but I'm sure it was a rude awakening."

  "My puking couldn't have been much better," he commented, straight-faced.

  She chuckled and drew him into her chest again. "I love you, you little rug rat." She rubbed his head before letting him go. "Now, go to bed and get a good night's sleep. I promise not to wake you any more, if I can help it."

  "Okay. You sure you're okay? I could stay in here if you think it would help."

  "No. I'm fine. What with you and your dad here to protect me, I'll be just fine. See you in the morning."

  I ruffled his hair as he walked past and wished him goodnight. Then I stepped into Dani's room, closing the door softly behind me. Dani rose and walked to the window, staring out at the nothingness beyond it, unintentionally copying my position of minutes earlier.

  "Are you sure you're—"

  "I'm sorry, Tucker. I usually can stop myself before... Geez, I'm sorry." Her self-loathing was evident. "I need therapy."

  "You know," I said carefully, "anyone who has been through the hell you've gone through could probably benefit from speaking to someone professionally."

  She turned toward me, her arms crossed. "Is that your nice way of telling me I'm crazy?"

  "No, I'm not saying that." I tried to backpedal.

  "I know." She breathed a huge sigh. "I was seeing somebody. I'll call for another appointment as soon as we get home."

  I walked over and grasped her arms, not even sure if she wanted to be touched by the tense look of her body, but I needed to touch her. She hesitated a second, then fell into my arms.

  "Are you sure you're okay?"

  She nodded.

  I breathed my own sigh of relief. I closed my eyes. "Geez, Dani. You scared me."

  "I know. I'm sorry."

  I withdrew a fraction and stared into her worn face. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

  She shook her head vehemently. "Go out with Scott. I probably gave him nightmares."

  "You're sure?"

  She nodded and scooted me out the door. An hour later, as I sat and stared at the ceiling, I heard the shower running. She was still awake.

  Chapter 20

  Kyle

  I took her to the Hotel Pere Marquette in Peoria, to a bar on the rooftop. We drank martinis, and the weather turned out to be beautiful, the few clouds scuttling about all afternoon burnt off by the vibrantly setting sun. We watched it sink into the Illinois River. A slight breeze lifted our hair and cooled our alcohol-flush. Very few people milled about on our rooftop. The music was good, the bartender generous, the view, spectacular, and the woman beside me, absolutely breathtaking, and I adored her.

  We stood, our table behind us if we should choose to sit, and leaned our elbows on the railing encircling the roof. We tipped our martini glasses up, my arm around her waist, a black wrap tucked into her elbows but falling sensually down her back. R.E.M.'s, "The One I Love", played on some hidden speaker system.

  I thoughtfully interjected, "You'd be a lot more convincing, Michael Stipe, if you actually knew the girl's name instead of being all, 'I'm writing this song for... the one I love... you know... what's-her-name.'"

  Sam gave me a sexy smile as she cocked her head my way, bringing her hip in closer to me. "Or, did you ever consider he might be covering his bases? He's got a bunch of girls on the line and he's like, 'this is for the one I love... uh... you know who you are, baby.'"

  "Ahh. I never thought of that. Sort of a Destiny's Child, "Say My Name" kinda thing."

  "Exactly." She hovered in closer and kissed me, soft and sweet. "This is very nice."

  "Yeah. It is," I seconded, setting my glass on the wide, flat, black metal railing to take her into my arms more fully. She set her glass down as well. As far as we were concerned, no one else existed on that roof.

  She toyed with a button on my shirt, biting her lower lip. "I like that you can analyze music. Before it was only Dani and I. Everyone else thought we were weird, or stupid, which we were, but... I like the way you take it seriously, like us."

  I held up a hand as if taking a vow. "Dead serious." I returned my hand to her hip. "But, I have to admit, I never really focused on developing my musical analysis skills until I met you."

  "Well, I'm glad to see I brought it out in you."

  "Baby, you bring all kinds of things out in me," I said with a growl, drawing her even closer.

  She kissed me again, then messed with my collar as she talked. "I'm glad you've... relaxed some. You were a little uptight earlier."

  I shrugged, unable to wipe the stupid smile off my face. "First date jitters."

  "You don't have to be nervous around me, you know."

  She kissed me again, and I had to separate from her or end up embarrassing myself on the rooftop. "I think we'd better get going to Carnegie's before they give away our table."

  A couple of minutes after we were seated, a woman approached the table. Sam straightened. "Oh, hi. Umm... Kyle, this is Julia Bryant. Julia, my boyfriend, Kyle Scofield, otherwise known as Kyle the Canadian."

  She winked at me, and I smiled at her before rising to take the woman's hand. "Nice to meet you."

  "Nice to meet you, too," she returned as if unsure of the validity of that statement. The woman appeared to be a few years older than us, wearing a black, expensive-looking sheaf dress, and a strand of pearls. She shook my hand cooly, running a quick, hard, appraising eye over me, then ignoring me completely. "Boyfriend, eh?" she said to Sam, as if accusing her of something.

  Sam bristled, and her cheeks became red from more than the wine we switched to. "Yes. I'm divorced. Have been for five years."

  She looked down her nose at Sam. "Hmm. Well, enjoy your big night out on the town."

  I stared at Sam, waiting for her head to pop off and for her to explode all over the place. "You, too." She took a gulp of her wine.

  When the woman was out of earshot, I remarked, "What's wrong with her? You piss her off or something?"

  "No. She looks down on me because I work in the kitchen. I'm surprised she even talked to me. When I try to carry on a conversation with her at school, well, let's just say it makes tonight's rudeness look like a night at Little Miss Mary's charm school."

  "You feed her kid," I said, shocked. "And she treats you like dirt?
" Sam shrugged. "And you let her get away with it?" With her feisty temperament, why didn't she put the lady in her place? I knew she possessed the skill to do it.

  "There's nothing you can do about some people. I don't let it bother me. Although it did some tonight, because you were here to witness it."

  I could tell it bothered her more than a bit, although she tried desperately not to show it. I glanced over. The woman stood with an older, dapper looking guy in an Armani suit in the lobby directly across from our table. The woman who, I just decided, definitely had a steel rod rammed up her butt, seemed to be harping on The Suit, too. He appeared to have overheard the whole exchange—by the way he gestured toward our table—and had issues with it. It looked like he wasn't being backed into any corner; he went toe-to-toe with her. "Well, I'm not letting her get away with it." I was halfway to my feet when Sam put a hand on my arm.

  "Please, Kyle." She kept her voice low, but her gaze darted in the direction of the lobby. "Some things in life can't be solved by checking someone into the boards or sending them to the penalty box."

  I sat begrudgingly. "The penalty box is too good for her," I muttered, still watching the stony-hearted bitch out of the corner of my eye. "And I wouldn't check her bony little butt into the boards. I'd send her through the boards."

  Sam smiled. "Yes, yes. I'm sure you would, he-man. But can we forget about her?"

  Her voice held such a pleading quality I consented, but I kept watching our friend in the lobby, being as inconspicuous as possible. The Suit left, presumably to bring the car around, and it seemed the woman became increasingly irritated waiting for him, checking her watch constantly. She took off in a huff toward the door.

  "Excuse me." I wiped my mouth and put the napkin on the table. "I have to use the little referee's room. I'll be right back." I headed to the lobby, and though I could feel Sam's eyes on me, I didn't take a left for the bathrooms. I took a right, to the front door. I found the woman glaring menacingly through the front window. I almost felt sorry for The Suit. "Excuse me." She turned to look at me as if she'd never seen me before in her life. "Kyle. Kyle the Canadian."

  "Oh, yes," she said disdainfully, "that woman's 'boyfriend.'"

 

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