Taking my place in business class beside my younger self, I watched her fidget. Her suit was now dated, but stylish nevertheless, her hair hastily fixed in a messy chignon. She wanted to speak, to tell anyone who would listen how very important her upcoming interview was. I ached to take her hand, convince her to be wary, but her eyes looked straight through me.
I watched as she furthered her career at corporate. She’d become INTech’s very minion, slicing through her competition with a mighty sword. But that sword had been double-edged, and with every strike, her soul had been nicked. I followed her through streets both dangerous and familiar. The woman now beside me knew them well, where to go and where not to. I noticed the light in her eyes had dimmed, her loneliness palpable.
I climbed into the cab she hailed. We entered the Blue Papaya together, its intimate and alluring atmosphere ripe with possibilities and promises. Had this been the place she’d finally lost herself? Where her delusions of grandeur had become ours? I seated myself at the bar and watched warily.
Her innocence was long gone now. She’d become Kirsten’s lap dog, hanging on her every word, envious of everything she wore, owned, projected. She’d watched her toy with men, collecting them like baseball cards. One day, she’d promised herself.
“A cosmo,” I said to the bartender when he asked. They were always the same: perfect, so sophisticated. Midway through my second sip, I nearly choked.
A tall, sleek man embraced her from behind, his teeth nipping her ear. Not him! He would suck the very marrow from her bones. She subtly ground her hips into Ryan with a calculating smile. That sexual torture would be repaid a hundred fold over the next two years. He represented everything she could narrowly dream of, and saddled with my current knowledge, would realize.
Time shifted again. She rode the shoulders of a band of revelers, her smile nearly blinding. She had been victorious, overcome great obstacles, won the coveted prize of promotion. Champagne was poured, toasts were made.
A tear slid down my cheek. A result of greed and sheer ignorance, in the blink of an eye, her heart would be shattered, the pieces scattering in the cold wind like curled leaves. Shocked, I noticed a gilded cuff gripping her wrist like a possessive hand, the chain attached, pretty and fine, snaking out the door. Unbeknownst, that tether had comforted her when all else failed.
I ordered a second martini, wondering why my mind had chosen this hour to leave me.
A jaded and bitter woman, only a few years my senior, seated herself beside me. World-weariness draped her shoulders like the mink stoll she wore. Consumed by self-importance, she was oblivious to those around her. Did this one even have a heart? If so, it was well-hidden. I wanted to feel for her, but in truth, I had little sympathy. She was self-made, a willing victim resting comfortably in INTech’s maw. And she’d do anything to remain there in that warm, wet place. She had.
I watched in dismay as she made love to several drinks. I slid my own away in disgust. Though the locket still hung from her neck, with a shock, I realized her beautiful diamond ring was gone. Oh God! Unable to accept the horror, I closed my eyes and withdrew into myself.
When I peeked at her again, her hair was dull and gray, and I noticed wrinkles around her lips—those inevitable frown lines one earns from being disappointed far too often. Though gaunt, her jewelry and clothing were evidence of real wealth. Her hand shook as she toasted the bartender.
A man dressed in chauffeur livery entered and whispered in her ear. She glanced at her diamond-encrusted watch, nodded, and tossed a wad of hundreds on the counter. Her heavy gold shackle glittered, its thick and heavy chain slithering behind her like a prowling python.
I dropped my head in my hands. This couldn’t be my future. I couldn’t become her. I would become…who then? When I looked to my right again, she was gone. In her place, an old man wearing a grave expression sipped from a cup of steaming coffee. From his pocket, he pulled out a key and slid it across the counter.
I stared down at my gleaming cuff. Though its edges had been gnawed on and chunks chipped away by determined hands, it remained a thing of exquisite beauty, one of tremendous value. I examined the key, the bar’s neon light lending it an ethereal glow. A decade of addiction fed lavishly by a potent narcotic, could I survive its withdrawal? With knowing eyes encouraging me, the man raised his own wrist, the fierce red marks prominent.
A warm and fragrant presence behind me whispered, “Do it, sweetheart.” For him, I’d suffer anything. For him…yes. I fitted the key into the lock, but the cogs refused to turn. I twisted it with all the force I could summon, but to no avail. I became frantic. What if it was already too late?
A young child with rosebud lips and hair of fine silk crawled onto my lap. She looked up at me with impossibly beautiful eyes and reached for the key, wrapping her tiny fingers around it. With the slightest of turns, the lock popped open as if freshly oiled.
53
Bat Shit Crazy
I am truly not sure how I got home. Evidently, autopilot takes over when one’s faculties completely shut down. Pete cocked his head at the rental car, but when I stepped out, he ran to me, engulfing me in the safety of his arms. Unable to speak, I simply stared at his perfect face. Confusion quickly replaced his warm smile, followed by concern, and finally, fear. That’s all I remember before the world went black.
“Darlin’, can ya hear me? Sweetheart.” He smoothed my hair back and kissed my forehead. Real. He was real.
“Turn down the radio,” I mumbled. “You’ll wake the baby.”
He left my side, and the sound silenced. “She’s up here,” he shouted.
My eyelids were pried open, and a flashlight rudely blinded me. Suited paramedics compressed my arm with a blood pressure cuff while shooting questions at Pete in rapid succession. He responded with a whole lot of I don’t knows.
“She’s in shock,” one man said.
I felt a sharp prick.
“What are you doin’?” Pete demanded.
“Administering naxolene. Standard procedure for drug overdoses.”
“No drugs.” I swatted weakly at the blurry group.
“What did you take?” a voice said urgently.
“Nothing.”
“Ma’am, if you don’t tell us, we can’t help you.”
“You can’t help me. I quit my job,” I said.
“You’re talkin’ nonsense, sweet—wait, what did you say?” Pete asked.
A bubble of hysterical laughter escaped my lips. “I said I quit my job.” I sat bolt upright and gasped. “Holy Mother of God, I just quit my job.” My body started shaking and my heart rate spiked. I fell back onto the couch, curled into the fetal position, and began rocking myself. “I quit my job, I quit my job. Oh God, I quit my job!” An oxygen mask was strapped across my face. The sound of Pete’s anxious voice faded.
Though I’d dreamt of a bizarre ambulance ride—one in which I tried to escape twice, I awoke to the blur of our ceiling fan. My mouth was desert dry, and thoughts were slow to form.
Pete was lying beside me, one arm heavily draped over my waist. I grunted, and his eyes flew open.
“How’re ya feelin’, darlin’?”
“Ugh,” I croaked. “Weird.”
His eyes, wary at first, slowly bled into mischief. “It’s been a wild couple of days, but valium is your new best friend.” He gently wiped the hair from my eyes and softly kissed me.
“Days?” I unsuccessfully tried to sit up. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Well, according to experts in the field, you’re sufferin’ from a bout of the batshit crazies. You’re Southern, it happens,” he said, winking.
I looked into his jade eyes for a long moment, a tear trickling down my temple. “I’m not crazy, Pete.”
“Anyone who walks away from a job like yours to live in a dot of land in the middle of nowhere is bound to be crazy. What were ya thinkin’? Your career meant the world to you.”
I shook my head, another tear escaping. �
�You and Audrey are my world. INTech is just…it was just…a paycheck.”
Pete exhaled and shook his head regretfully. “I never meant to drive you to this, Susan. I wasn’t tryin’ to make you choose. I won’t say I wasn’t hurtin’ inside, or that stayin’ away from you for the next month was gonna be easy, but you needed space, sweetheart, and time to figure things out. Maybe we both did.”
I touched his cheek. It felt like an eternity had passed since the last time. “I got lost, Pete. I got swept up in my work and myself. I took you and Audrey for granted, took your love for granted. I am such a fool. I’ll never do it again. Never.”
I may have figured out what I wanted, but what about him? Fear licked me with its cold and slimy tongue. “There is still an us, right? I mean, do you still want to be my…husband? I’m horrible, I know it. I wouldn’t blame you if, if you’re through with me.” I cowardly closed my eyes.
“Hey, look at me.” I cracked open a lid. His sober expression terrified me. “Susan, I have wants, needs, desires, and realities,” he said, echoing a long-ago conversation. “You are all those things to me. You always will be.”
“So, we’re okay?”
He nodded. “We’re okay.”
Right then, I swear I heard those golden shackles hit the floor and shatter. I exhaled raggedly. We were silent for a few minutes, my mind grappling with strange images and half-memories. “Did I dream it, or was our stove in the front yard?”
His chuckle shook the bed. “Well, I might be able to part with our house, but there’s no way anyone’s gettin’ my stove.”
“You were selling the house?”
“Of course I was. Susan, you own my heart, and it stays with you wherever you go. We were buyin’ that house ya liked, and I was taking the job.”
“But you—”
“Don’t ever think I could live without you.” He shook his head adamantly. “No matter how stupid I act, or whatever dumbassed things I do, don’t ever believe that.”
“But what about the South?”
“Sweetheart, I may love North Carolina, this house, and my relatives, but without you, none of it matters. Hell, we could move to Vietnam for all I care, as long as we’re together. As long as I know you love me.”
“I love you, Pete. I swear it. I truly love you.”
He inhaled deeply, a beautiful smile forming. “Now, tell me what happened up there.”
“Well, they promoted me.”
He worked his mouth for a moment without success. “They promoted you?”
“Yes.”
“So you…quit?”
“Uh huh.”
Pete grabbed a medicine bottle from the nightstand and popped the top. A tiny yellow pill tumbled into his palm.
“I don’t need that,” I said.
His eyes sparkled mischievously. “No, darlin’, I do.”
I realized it was terribly quiet in the house. “Where’s Audrey?”
“She’s over at Mona’s. We decided you needed a little…time to get yourself back together.” He rolled off the bed. “What can I get you? Water? Food?”
I shook my head. “Audrey. I need to hold my baby. I need to hold you and my baby.”
♥
I’d like to tell you the next couple of weeks went smoothly, and that I was so happy to be reunited with my family and in my own home that I didn’t miss working for a single second, but that would be an epic lie. I was riding the postpartum, postworkum, postwhatthehellamIgonnadonextum roller coaster in nonstop loops. One minute I was crying my eyes out, the next I was channeling Buddha. I believe Pete feared for our daughter’s safety on several occasions, each marked by Charlotte’s unexpected appearance.
I wasn’t particularly looking forward to walking into the Rusty Frog this evening. I hadn’t darkened its doors since well before we’d officially moved, and I’d spent little time since with those I’d once called friends. Pulling Pete and Audrey out of North Carolina was tantamount to committing first-degree murder, and once back, I’d stayed away, hiding, I suppose.
I can promise I was greatly relieved that I wasn’t the recipient of their ire tonight, but saddened that worse crimes had been committed.
“I didn’t even speak no Spanish,” Joe Pat moaned. “I went over and rented us a car—they drive on the same side of the road there.” The statement was met with awe. “Well, I loaded us all up, and she said she wanted to go to Palenque—I don’t even know if I’m pronouncin’ that right. Said she’d read about it in a travel magazine. Well, we drove for about three hours ’til we got there. She was kinda standoffish, not talkin’ too much durin’ the trip, but I didn’t think too much of it. Figured she was tired, or nervous, or something. The town wasn’t much of anything—just a church, a little motel, a grocery store, and a bus station.
“She said she wanted to get married right away. I thought that was right romantic. Well, we went over to the church and found the padre—that’s what they call preachers down there—and I paid him in advance. Then we checked into the motel. She told me she wanted to take a shower and get all freshened up, and that she’d meet me on the church steps. She said I shouldn’t see a bride before the wedding, though I already had. I’m not one to break tradition, though, so I changed into my suit and left.
“It was awful hot, so I milled around the grocery store for a bit. I couldn’t read one damn thing, but they had cold beer in the refrigerator section. I went to buy me one. That’s when I realized I didn’t have my wallet on me. Guess I was more nervous than I thought.” Joe Pat shook his head ruefully. “I went on back to the motel, and our door was standin’ wide open. It had been cleaned out—no clothes, no suitcases, no Jayne. All that was left was a note sayin’ she’d changed her mind and not to come lookin’ for her.”
“What happened next?” Mona asked, wide-eyed and utterly enthralled. She was seated on Jimbo’s lap, his arms casually wrapped around her waist. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Well, I was beside myself, as ya might imagine. I didn’t know what I’d said or done to upset her so much. I went over to tell the padre we wouldn’t be gettin’ married cause she’d run off. He said some women are just born wicked, and there’s nothin’ you can do about it.”
Pete squeezed my knee, and I elbowed him.
“I’d brung a fair sum of cash, so we could have a big time. All I had now were the clothes on my back. The padre refunded my money and helped me get on a bus to Cancun. He was a real Christian fellow, and I wished I could’ve left a donation to the church, but I had to use every penny for bus fare.
“’Cause I didn’t have my plane ticket or credit cards anymore, I called Buddy, collect. Bein’ Postmaster, I knew he had government connections.”
We all nodded.
Buddy Williams threw an arm around Joe Pat’s shoulder. “You’re like a brother to me, Joe.”
Joe seemed on the verge of tears. He cleared his throat a couple of times before continuing.
“Buddy wired some money down so I could buy me a ticket. ’Course I didn’t have a driver’s license or passport or anything ’cause she took all that, so they wouldn’t let me through customs. Lord, it was a mess.” He took another sip of his drink and then stared at the glass in silence. “I loved that woman. I won’t ever drink tequila again without thinking of her.”
Ginger looked at her husband. “Never did like that woman,” she hissed under her breath.
“And the most embarassin’ part of all,” Joe Pat continued, “was I had to go to the American Embassy and beg ’em for new papers. Beg’em, I tell you. They wouldn’t believe I was an American citizen until I proved it by givin’ ’em my rank and serial number. Me, not a citizen? Why my family’s been fightin’ for this country since the American Revolution—and for the Confederates, ’course, but I didn’t mention that part.”
“You got nothin’ to be ashamed of, fightin’ for the South,” Vic Jr. stated authoritatively. The rest of the men, Pete included, nodded in unison. I rolled my eyes. Oh
brother.
“Thank the Lord they found me in the system, or I’d still be down there. And just so you know, the embassy there ain’t no palace like you might think. It’s a small buildin’ with a big ol’ fence around it and a few guards. They were marines, so we had a fair amount to talk about while I waited. One of ’em even let me have his bunk overnight, so I wouldn’t have to sleep in the airport.
“When I finally landed in Atlanta and tried to go through customs, I was pulled into this room by security, and a bunch of FBI agents started askin’ me questions. I told ’em I hadn’t done anything wrong and wasn’t smuggling no drugs back or nothin’. They didn’t care about me too much after that, but they kept askin’ me questions about Jayne. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why the FBI cared about her.”
At this point, I was boiling with rage. Fooling us all was one thing, but playing with a man’s heart—a really loving and decent man, and then leaving him the way she had was unforgivable. Sadly, it also confirmed that she was guilty of embezzlement and would probably get away with it. Suddenly, I was very much looking forward to Kirsten’s trial.
“It was a couple of hours before they let me go. ’Course, I’d missed my flight by then, and there wasn’t another one to Raleigh until the next day.”
“So we said the hell with that. ’Scuse my language,” Vic Jr. added. “Buddy and Billy and me piled in my Chevy and drove down to Georgia to pick up our boy.”
“I love y’all, and I always will,” Joe Pat said thickly before taking another large sip of his drink.
“Well, she wasn’t from North Carolina to begin with,” Billy said. “That should’ve tipped ya off right there.” This from the man who had tried to catch her attention behind his friend’s back. I bit down on my tongue.
Back Where I Belong: A Wonderfully Witty and Completely Absorbing Love Story (Susan Wade Series Book 3) Page 38