Shannon huffed and closed the magazine, then opened it and began smacking through the pages again.
“You need a drink.” St. John straightened the back of his seat and signaled for the flight attendant.
“I don’t need a drink,” Shannon responded, giving a page an especially aggressive slap. “I’m fine.”
After St. John ordered their drinks, he grabbed the magazine and shoved it into the storage pocket. “Being antsy isn’t going to get the plane to Orlando any faster. Try to relax.”
“I don’t want to relax.” She reached for the magazine, but he swiped it away. It was easy for him to relax; it wasn’t his son sitting in a strange place surrounded by thousands of strangers.
When their drinks arrived, St. John asked for a snack try, minus the pretzel sticks. He added an ice cube to Shannon’s whiskey and swirled the glass before handing it to her. “Here, it will make you feel better.”
“I don’t want it,” she said, taking hold of the drink. She sipped the cold, fiery liquid. “Will you check your phone and see if Tony sent an update? Please?”
“The FCC hasn’t changed their rules about no cell use since we’ve been on board, so if you don’t want to relax, at least finish your drink.”
She gulped her drink and cast a greedy glance at his.
“Don’t even try it,” he said.
“Fine. What will we do if Justin sees Tony?”
“Don’t worry about Tony. He’s very good at what he does. I’ve used him enough to know.”
She twirled her glass, making the ice cube spin. “When? I mean, why would you need a private investigator? Also, how are you here and not at work?”
“I’m the boss. Taking days off is one of the perks. Plus, I’ve hired people I can count on. To answer your first question, Marty and I used Tony during my last divorce.”
Now she was intrigued. “You had your wife followed?”
“Let’s talk about something else.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you two?” The attendant asked when she delivered the snacks.
“Yes, may we have two blankets?” St. John asked.
Shannon took the package of Lorna Doone cookies he offered. “Thank you for getting the blanket, but I’m not cold.”
St. John ripped open a package of smoked almonds. “You might be.”
She unbuckled her seat belt and shifted to face him. “Okay, now that you have your treats, it’s time for you to share.”
“I shared this morning. Isn’t that enough for one day?”
“Too bad. Was your wife cheating on you?”
“No comment.”
“Come on, St. John. We’re stuck here for another three hours, and talking is about the only thing we can do.”
He grinned and leaned her way. “We could join the mile-high club.”
As much as she would have enjoyed the new membership, she stopped his hand before it got any further up her leg. “There are kids on board. Face it: talking is our only form of entertainment.”
“Remember my fourth rule?”
“Is that the one about no second nights?”
“Nope, that’s rule number three. Number four is the one about never allowing someone close enough to hurt me, which, if memory serves me, is your number-one rule.”
“I thought that was number six. Wasn’t number four about love? Anyway, I think it’s too late for the close thing.”
St. John raised an eyebrow and asked in his typical, pragmatic way, “What are you saying?”
“Look around. We’re on a plane, flying to get my son. You’ve infiltrated my life. I have to accept that I broke my number-one rule. I’ve let you in, and at this point, you could do some serious damage.” She opened the pack of cookies. It was the truth, only she’d left out the part about the rule having been broken back when they’d first met. Now she was wondering if she’d said too much. His expression, and silence, indicated the answer was yes. “I’m not saying I want you in my life,” she included before indecision stopped her from speaking. “As you said last night, when Chad gets home, you and I are done.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Yes, it is.”
He leaned her way and touched her lips, causing a thrill to ripple through her. Wanting to be with him was only sexual. She had to believe that because if she was wrong, that would mean…
“You weren’t paying attention,” St. John said. “My exact words were that I’ll be with you until you get settled.”
“That’s a lie, and you know it. You said until Chad gets home.”
His grin materialized and lingered. “Well, I meant until you get settled.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I’ll help you find a place to live, move you, and make sure Justin knows to stay away.”
“And then?"
He slid his hand over the side of her face. “Then I need to step away.”
It hadn’t been what she wanted to hear, but she couldn’t fault him for being honest—although his eyes didn’t seem to agree. There was almost a plea for her to contradict him. Or was it wishful thinking on her part? Did it matter? He’d made his point.
“Thank you, but I don’t need nor want your help. When we get home, feel free to pursue other avenues of entertainment.”
She faced the window. It would be better if she focused on Chad and let go of idiotic, romantic ideas.
Chapter 31
“It’s better to lose your ego to the One you Love than to lose the One you Love to your ego.”
John Keats
St. John removed the magazine Shannon had previously been beating up and started his own assault.
Shannon glanced at him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?” St. John said as he flipped a page too hard, tearing off a piece.
“Maybe because you’re beating up a magazine. And don’t say that I did it first. You’re supposed to be the adult.”
He shoved the magazine under his seat. “And why is that?”
“Because you’re older. How old are you?”
“Old enough to know better.”
“St. John, what’s the matter? And don’t say nothing’s the matter. Are you angry with me for saying I don’t want your help?”
“Let it drop, Shannon. I’m not mad.” He signaled the flight attendant and ordered another drink. “Do you want something?”
“Water, please. I’m expecting you to hold Justin down while I gut him.”
St. John’s brow creased. “I thought you wanted to rip his throat out.”
“The throat ripping is still on the table. The gutting comes after and before the disemboweling.”
“I would never have guessed at this violent side to your personality. Does this have anything to do with Wicca?”
“Nope, the Wiccan creed states do no harm. This violent side comes from my maternal ancestors. The Müllers were known for their gangster moves.”
He accepted his drink. “You could have warned me. I might have stayed away from you.”
She faced him. “Would that have stopped you?”
“Not in the least,” he replied and took a gulp of bourbon. Her fire excited him, made him feel alive.
“We still have to discuss the tickets,” she said.
“I already told you I’m not taking your money.”
“But you can’t—”
“Yes,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I can.” He hadn’t argued with all three of his wives as much as he’d done with her. And hadn’t enjoyed himself half as much.
She knotted her fingers around his. “I never truly thanked you for what you’re doing for Chad and me. I’m blessed to have you in my life.”
The determination to walk away with his dignity flew out of the window, and he almost blurted out, ‘Not blessed enough to want to keep me.’ But then he remembered it had been he who’d started the beginning of their end, and so he kept his mouth shut.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
Shannon covered herself with the blanket and closed her eyes, and St. John finished his drink.
******
“It’s Mickey.” Shannon pointed out the taxi’s window at a person standing in the street dressed like Mickey Mouse. “That was so cool. I am definitely bringing Chad down here for a vacation. Maybe around Christmas time. Or for my fortieth birthday.”
“When is your birthday?”
“February.”
“And?”
“And?”
“The date?”
“The twenty-ninth.”
“You’re a leapling?”
“Yeah, how did you know what we’re called?”
“Someone very dear to me was a leapling. She was born in 1932. I knew there was a reason I was drawn to you.”
“Save the sweet talk, St. John. You’re only drawn to me because I have a vagina, and you know it.” Drawn to her, ha. If he was so frigging drawn, then why didn’t he want to be with her?
“I’m crushed you think so little of me.” He answered the call coming into his cell phone.
She listened and quickly realized the person on the other end of the call was the private investigator. From St. John’s side of the conversation, she gleaned that Justin, Shelby, and Chad were at the Mount Kilimanjaro roller coaster in the Animal Kingdom Park.
“Okay, we’re nearing the main entrance now. Keep an eye on them, and we’ll be there shortly, I hope. I have no idea how long it’ll take us to get to you.” St. John ended the call and repeated to her what he’d learned. A text came through, and he opened it, anger spreading across his face.
Shannon reached for the phone. “What’s wrong? Is that a picture of Chad?”
St. John held the phone out of her reach. “I don’t want you to flip out.”
“Give me the fucking phone, St. John, or so help me—”
“That’s exactly what I told you not to do.”
She snatched the phone and studied the picture on the screen. Sure enough, Chad was alone on another bench, his knees drawn up to his chin. “That fucking moron. When I see him, I’m going to rip his balls off and feed them to him, and then I’m serving him his dick for dessert.”
“Ouch, I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”
“Look at my son.” She held the phone in front of St. John’s face. She was back on the ledge and ready to take a swan dive. “Can you see what they’re doing to my son?” she shouted. “Look.”
St. John held the phone and her hand. “Pull it together,” he said in a soft, calm voice.
“I am together. Watch me when I’m in front of Justin if you want to see what I look like when I’m not together.”
“And that is why you will not be seeing him.”
She yanked her hand away. “What do you mean I won’t be seeing him? I damn well better see him.”
“Not going to happen. I want you to take Chad to one of the other parks. Take him on a few rides. Tony and I will deal with Justin.”
“No.”
St. John placed his finger on her mouth. “I’m not giving you a choice. We don’t need the Mickey Mouse brigade hauling our asses off to Loony Tune jail.”
“Wrong company.”
“Excuse me?”
“Loony Tunes is Warner Brothers, and if I want to confront my husband, you have nothing to say about it. You don’t own me.”
“I don’t think I own you, but I am much calmer than you right now. My dime, my rules.”
“You and your stinking rules.” She scowled at him. “I’d like to smash every single one of them.”
‘You’re off to a good start’ he was about to say when the taxi driver said, “Mèt, nou isit la.”
The driver pointed at a sign welcoming them to Disney World, and a line of cars.
Shannon opened her mouth, but St. John patted her hand and, leaned his face through the divider where he spoke in a hushed voice.
The driver gave a rapid reply in Creole, flipped on his flashers, and zipped around the line of traffic waiting to pass under the blue-and-yellow arch welcoming everyone to The Happiest Place on Earth.
“You speak Creole?” Shannon whispered.
“I’ve picked up bits and pieces of different languages; the construction business attracts a variety of non-English-speaking individuals.”
The taxi driver drove along the road’s shoulder, stopped and had a heated exchange with a security guard, and then zipped the cab onto an access road where he finally delivered Shannon and St. John to the Animal Kingdom main entrance.
St. John handed the driver four hundreds, and said, “Mesi zanmi’m.”
“Now what did you say?” Shannon asked while St. John presented their passes at the ticket window.
“I said ‘thank you.’ Let’s go.”
They asked for directions and raced to the Expedition Everest entrance.
“He’s over this way.” St. John took Shannon by the hand and pulled her toward a gift shop.
She spotted a short, intimidating-looking man standing next to a bench on which sat an elderly couple, and one sad child.
“Chad.”
She ran to him.
Chad looked up, and his face brightened. He climbed onto the bench and waved his arms. “Mama, I’m here.” He leapt straight for Shannon and wrapped his arms and legs around her. “Mama, you came.”
“Yes, baby, I came.”
Chad pressed his lips to her ear. “I’m sorry, I had an accident.”
“It’s okay, sweetie.” She let joyful tears flow from her eyes and kissed his filthy cheeks. He was in her arms, and she was never letting ago. Except to clean him. “We’ll find a bathroom.”
Chad leaned away and held her cheeks with his sticky hands. “I tried to hold it. Daddy yelled at me. I tried, honest.”
Her heart broke as she studied round eyes much too serious for a six-year-old. “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. Accidents happen. That’s why they’re called accidents.” She drew him into another strong embrace.
“Look, Mama, Coach John is here.” He pointed over her shoulder and shimmied from her arms. “Coach John, hi. It’s me, Chad.”
St. John crouched to Chad’s level. “Hey, Chad, you okay?”
Chad looked up at Shannon. “Am I okay, Mama?”
“Yes, darling, you’re okay,” she replied.
Chad stood between Shannon and St. John and pointed at a nearby ice cream vendor. “Mama, can I have a Mickey head?”
“A what?” Shannon looked where Chad was pointing and nodded. “Of course. In fact, I think we all should have ice cream Mickey heads.”
St. John held out his hand and said, “Come on, Chad, let’s go buy some while your mom talks to my friend.”
Shannon turned her attention to the Tony, the private investigator, and offered a sincere, “Thank you. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me.”
“Don’t thank me thank St. John, he’s the one who put me here. I’m just glad I could help. So, how long you two been together?”
Shifting her gaze back to the ice cream vendor and the man holding her son’s hand, Shannon half whispered, “We’re not together.”
“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to imply… I know you’re married and all, it’s just that… Aw, shit, just drop it; my wife is always telling me to keep my yapper shut.”
Shannon grinned at Tony and laughed. “Don’t be silly, you’re his friend and you’re just curious. However…” She let a shrug end her thought and took a step in the direction of her son who was running her way, a chocolate-smeared grin on his face
“Mama, Coach John said he’s gonna take me to see the world.”
“The world?”
St. John handed her a Mickey head while he licked at the remnants of vanilla ice cream on his own stick.
“You made short work of that,” Shannon said. “You can have mine, but I want one of his ears. And what’s this about show
ing my son the world?”
“The ride. Chad said he wants to go on the big world ride, and I said I’d take him.” St. John added his cocky grin and held the edge of Mickey’s ear to Shannon’s lips. “You can come too, little girl.”
“You mean the Small World ride?” She gratefully accepted his offering and sighed as the smooth, chocolate coating melted along her tongue. Mickey ears ruled.
“Small, bit, what’s the difference?” St. John added a shrug and devoured the remainder of Mickey’s head.
She couldn’t hold back her laughter. “You’re a brave man, St. John. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me. However, right now, I want you to take Chad out of the park. Go to the world ride and wait for me, please.”
Tony tapped his watch at St. John, and she instinctively pulled Chad against her legs, half burying him in the folds of her skirt. “What’s wrong?”
“Relax. Nothing’s wrong,” St. John said.
“Please stop telling me to relax.”
“When you relax, I’ll stop.” St. John spoke to Chad. “Hey, pal, will you stay with my friend while I talk to your mom?”
Chad scanned Tony and slowly faced Shannon. “Do I have to?”
“It will only be for a few minutes, munchkin.” She wiped at his face and opened her wallet. “This is forty dollars. Hold on to it and go into the store with Mr. Tony and buy yourself a toy. I’ll be right outside here with Coach John, okay?”
Tony leaned over and held out his hand. “Hey, Chad. My name’s Tony, and I have a little bud just like you. His name’s Oscar.”
“Is he a grouch too?”
Their conversation about Sesame Street filtered away as they walked into the gift shop, leaving Shannon to continue wondering what had suddenly gone wrong.
Chapter 32
“When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place.”
Unknown
Touching Shannon’s elbow, St. John nodded to a shady area. “There’s nothing to worry about. I don’t want you here when Justin comes back, that’s all.”
“No,” she responded with a hearty level of conviction. “I already told you I want to see him.” Her refusal bordered on a tantrum, with foot stamping and arm crossing. “I have things I want to say.”
Breaking the Rules Page 21