by Maria Geraci
“I just heard the big news, Chief.” Rusty was breathing heavy, like he’d just run a mile. Zeke made a mental note to bring back the group beach runs they’d done a few years ago in preparation for the force’s annual fitness exam.
“What news is that?” Zeke asked. Knowing Rusty it could be anything. Rusty was one of the more experienced officers on the Whispering Bay Police force. He was a good cop, loyal, too, but he sure did love the drama.
“About you and Mimi gettin’ a divorce? Is it true? Penny Atkins heard it from the gal at the post office who heard it from Denise Holbert.”
For the second time today, Zeke felt as if a knife had been twisted in his gut. Only this one was all his doing. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut about the separation? It had been four days, fifteen hours (and counting) since Mimi had asked him to leave. So he’d packed up a bag and left. Since then he’d been biding his time, waiting for Mimi to come to her senses and ask him to come back home. But when he’d stepped into that board room and seen her there at the table, he’d lost it.
She’d taken off her wedding ring.
He’d wanted to punch a wall. Instead, he did something he rarely ever did. He’d let his emotions get the better of him. He should have known news of their separation would be all over town before sunset.
“No one’s getting a divorce.” He tossed an empty coffee cup and an uneaten greasy takeout burger into the trash.
“So, it’s not true?” Rusty asked hopefully.
“We’re separated,” Zeke admitted. “But we’re a long way off from a divorce.”
Rusty’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh, okay. Sorry about the separation, but I know you two will work it out.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Sure, Chief.” Rusty suddenly looked embarrassed. “Is that why you’ve been sleeping at the office?”
Zeke hadn’t realized anyone in the department had known he’d been spending his nights on the couch in his office. He’d underestimated Rusty’s detective skills.
“Roger that.”
“My cousin has a fishing cabin out along the river. Hardly uses it at all. There’s no air-conditioning and the roof leaks when it rains, but I bet you could stay there if I ask.”
So this is what his life had come down to. Sleeping in Rusty’s cousin’s wrecked out fishing cabin. Still, Zeke couldn’t help but feel touched by the offer. “Thanks, Rusty, but I’ll figure something out. Besides, staying at the office hasn’t been too bad. I’ve been catching up on paperwork.”
He’d caught up on paperwork four nights ago. He’d also cleaned out the closets, written up two new policies on the use of handcuffs, and gone on three middle of the night calls that would have normally been covered by one of his patrolmen. So far, he’d put out a kitchen fire for Mrs. Alderman on Beach Street (she always got the fire department and the police department mixed up), checked out a possible B&E over at the Ace Hardware (a stray cat had tripped the security alarm) and taken a call from Mr. Wolff next door to the bakery demanding that the delivery trucks be ‘quieter’ at ‘five-o-damn-clock in the morning.’
It had been an interesting few nights, all right.
A few more and he’d be ready to put a gun to his head.
He heard Cindy, the receptionist, talking to someone outside in the waiting area. A few seconds later, his sister Allie came marching into the office. She started when she saw Rusty.
“Oh, hey, Rusty.”
“Hey, there, Allie, what’s shakin’?”
If his deputy knew Allison Grant a little better, he’d know from the pulsing death rays darting from her eyes that the only thing she wanted to shake was him. Not Rusty. But him, as in Zeke.
“Rusty,” Allie said in a deceptively mild voice, “Would you mind giving me some private time with my big brother?”
Rusty took off faster than a buck in hunting season. Not that Zeke blamed him. If there was anything he could do to avoid this little sister-brother talk, he would.
Allie closed the door and turned to glare at him. “Please tell me this rumor I’m hearing isn’t true. Are you and Mimi really separated?”
He could lie to her, but what was the point?
“It’s true.”
She plopped herself down on the couch. “Oh, Zeke, what have you done?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to let it out. But don’t worry,” he said, seeing the sad look on his sister’s face, “this is all going to blow over. Mimi and I will be back together before you know it.”
“What are you going to do? Club her over the head and drag her by the hair back to your cave? That method lost popularity a few thousand years ago.”
Actually, that sounded pretty good to him right now. He didn’t think Allie was in the mood to hear it, though.
“She’ll come around.”
Allie snorted. “Sure she will.” Her expression turned wistful. “I hate this. I really do.”
Zeke hated it, too. It wasn’t just his kids he’d let down. Allie was the only blood family he had. Their mother had died in a car crash when Allie was seven and he was thirteen, leaving their worthless sack of a father to take care of them. Good ol’ Dad had bailed after just a couple of months. Their Cuban grandmother had moved from Miami to take charge. If it hadn’t been for Buela, they’d probably have ended up in foster care. Buela passed away when Allie was eighteen. By then, Zeke and Mimi had already been married with a baby. Allie had naturally become an extension of his little family. If Mimi and he did end up divorced, it would be like Allie’s nuclear family had fallen apart all over again.
“Tom and I have set a wedding date,” she said. “Second Saturday in June. We wanted the first Saturday, but, well, you know.”
Yeah, he did know. All of Whispering Bay knew that the first Saturday in June was reserved for the traditional Spring Into Summer festival. It was a day-long event that began with a 10K run in the morning and ended with a concert on the quad in the evening. In between, the day was filled with arts and crafts booths, rides, food trucks, and small town entertainment. It was a big day for the Whispering Bay police force as well. The event usually drew an extra ten thousand or so people into town, creating traffic snafus along with the usual petty crimes. Last year, Bruce Bailey had failed to deliver on the promised entertainment—country music star, Billy Brenton. Instead, at virtually the last minute they’d substituted Harry Tuba and his polka band. The situation had created a near riot.
It occurred to Zeke, that this year’s festival would be headed by Mimi.
He thought back to his first impression of her this afternoon when he’d walked into that board room. She’d seemed stunned to see him. At least at first she had, but she’d quickly recovered. She looked every inch the mayor that she was. Calm, elegant, and God damn gorgeous. He’d been proud of her. But then he’d noticed she wasn’t wearing her ring and he’d lost his head.
“I was hoping you’d give me away,” Allie said. “You know, walk me down the aisle, growl at Tom, the usual fatherly stuff.”
“Of course I’m going to give you away.”
“I know you aren’t crazy about Tom, but—”
“As long as he makes you happy. That’s all I care about.”
Tom had been Allie’s first boyfriend way back in the day. Her first love, as Mimi put it. But he’d ended their relationship when he discovered that his former girlfriend was pregnant with his child. Long story short: The asshole had broken Allie’s heart. He’d made up for it since. But Zeke had already punched him once in the nose and he wasn’t above doing a repeat number if the situation called for it.
“I was hoping Mimi could help me with the wedding details. Since I don’t have any other female relatives. But if you think—”
“She’ll help you.” Mimi loved Allie. Plus, she had a big heart. Just because she was ready to toss their marriage to the curb didn’t mean she’d given up on her sister-in-law. No matter what happened to his marriage with
Mimi, she and Allie would always be close. Not that anything was going to happen to his marriage.
“What are you planning?” Zeke asked. “So I can know how much you’re going to need?”
“Need? Oh, no, big brother, I’m not expecting you to pay for anything. Tom and I are grown-ups and this will be his second marriage. We’re doing it simple. And we’re doing it ourselves.”
“Yeah, but it’s your first marriage. And hopefully your last. I’m your only male relative and I’m paying for your wedding. End of story.”
Allie made a face. “We’ll see about that.”
“We’ll see about nothing because—”
“Zeke, do you ever wonder what happened to Dad?”
Years of being a cop had taught him to keep his expression unreadable. It was a trick that had served him well on more than one occasion. He’d never been more grateful for it than now.
“Dad who?”
She rolled her eyes. “Dad, as in Sam Grant. The man married to our mother. The man whose DNA we share?”
Zeke shrugged. “He’s dead.”
Allie sat straight up on the couch. “How do you know that? Did you hire a PI? When did he die?”
“August 2, 1991.”
“What? That makes no sense. How did you—Zeke, that’s the day Dad left us.”
“Hence, it’s also the day he died.”
Her expression softened. “It’s been twenty-four years. Maybe he’s sorry.”
“He’s sorry, all right.” Zeke shifted around in his chair. “Look, let’s not beat a dead horse. The guy left when the going got rough. Good riddance. We didn’t need him anyway.”
Allie started to say something, then wisely snapped her mouth shut. “Okay, I won’t bring it up again. But Tom and I aren’t letting you pay for the wedding.”
“You want me to give you away? Then I’m paying for the wedding.”
“You are no doubt, the most stubborn man on earth.”
“But you still love me.”
“Fortunately for you, yes.” Her concerned little sister face took over. “Mimi still loves you, too. What’s going on, Zeke? You need to fix this.”
“Don’t worry. I plan to.”
“How? You’ve been in counseling for over a year now. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“So Mimi kicked you out of the house for nothing? That’s not like her.” Allie’s gaze dropped to her folded hands. “There’s not anyone else, is there?”
“You know better than to ask me that.”
She visibly relaxed. “Okay. Good. I didn’t think that was the problem.”
“Look, don’t worry about me and Mimi. I give this separation another week, tops.”
*~*~*
Another week. Tops. Hopefully, he hadn’t just made his sister a promise he couldn’t keep.
Zeke stripped off his police uniform and changed into his running shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed his iPhone and headed for the beach. He was up to ten miles a day now. He’d always been a runner, but lately, the running was more than just a way to keep fit. It was his own personal form of catharsis.
He warmed up for the first half-mile, then increased his pace over the next two until he was flying. Sand kicked up beneath his heels and a wave of cool air rose off the February gulf water while Coldplay’s Viva La Vida streamed in his ear. It was a little maudlin for his tastes. He usually preferred listening to hard rock while he ran, but tonight it fit his mood.
Mimi had accused him of using his nightly runs to get away from their problems. He’d blown her off, but maybe she had a point. While he was running there were no dispatch calls to take care of. No police budget to worry about. No time to think about how he’d let down his wife and family. If he knew how to give her what she wanted, he’d give it to her. He was a good guy. A loyal husband. An attentive dad (so maybe he could be a little strict, but it was because he loved his kids). He worked hard to make sure his family had everything they needed. The thing she wanted from him wasn’t in his DNA. Pure and simple. He accepted her the way she was. Why couldn’t she do the same for him?
His phone buzzed, interrupting the music. He briefly considered not answering but that wasn’t in his DNA, either. He was the police chief of Whispering Bay, which meant the buck stopped here. Like it or not, he was on twenty-four/seven.
He stopped running to catch his breath to look at the number glowing on the screen.
Son-of-a-bitch. How had he gotten his personal cell phone number? He briefly thought of answering. Just to tell him to fuck off. But Sam Grant wasn’t worth the breath it would take.
Zeke hit the reject button and went back to his run.
Mimi was supposed to meet Allie at The Bistro by the Beach, Whispering Bay’s premier coffee house. It was located directly on the gulf, right next door to the town’s newest business, Baby Got Bump. She briefly thought of stopping inside to say hello to Lauren. Ever since Lauren had married Nate Miller, Mimi hardly ever saw her except when she was dropping off Henry to visit Cameron or vice versa. She didn’t blame her friend for wanting her privacy. Lauren and Nate had gotten engaged at her parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary back in December, and then surprised everyone by eloping the following week. They were newlyweds and Mimi wished them the best of luck.
Not that they needed it. Nate was one of Whispering Bay’s only two practicing physicians and a total sweetheart. Mimi was thrilled for Lauren. Not only was she happy in love, she was now successful in business, too. Baby Got Bump had been Lauren’s dream child. The place had originally started off as a retro boutique, but after a year of dismal sales and some unexpected inspiration, Lauren had begun to design retro maternity wear instead. The Lilly Pulitzer-meets the Beatles look had gone viral, making Baby Got Bump one of north Florida’s hottest new businesses.
Mimi’s phone pinged for a second time. As much as she’d love to catch up with Lauren, she’d have to do it some other time. She was currently two minutes late meeting her sister-in-law. It was a one-on-one Mimi wasn’t looking forward to, but she had to do it sometime.
She opened the door to The Bistro by the Beach. The entire place turned to stare at her. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and exactly as she’d predicted, all of Whispering Bay now knew about The Separation.
She’d had to turn off her cell phone this morning due to the influx of calls. But then she’d remembered that as mayor, she couldn’t really do that. What if the city needed her? What if Cameron or Claire got sick at school? So she’d turned her phone back on and screened her calls. Luckily, the city hadn’t needed her. Her mother, on the other hand, had needed her six times in less than two hours.
Frida Hampton, the Bistro’s owner and a good friend and fellow Bunco Babe was making a latte when she spied Mimi. She handed the latte to a waiting customer, then stepped out from behind the counter to give Mimi a hug. “What the hell! Why didn’t you tell us what was going on with you and Zeke?”
“I had planned to make an announcement at Bunco Thursday night, but I guess I’ve been pre-empted.”
“You okay?” Frida asked. She tucked an unruly auburn curl into the blue scarf bandana holding back her hair.
“Sure, I’m fine. Or as well as anyone could be now that half the town knows my business.”
“Not half the town. The whole town.” Frida smiled sympathetically. “You’re a politician now and people love a good story. Don’t you watch The Good Wife?”
“Yeah, but there’s no scandal here. No cheating, no prostitutes, no tampering with public funds. We’re just a regular couple who happen to be separated.”
“A regular couple?” Mimi heard someone say. It was Betty Jean Collins, a member of the Gray Flamingos, as well as the receptionist for The Whispering Bay Gazette, the newspaper Mimi’s sister-in-law Allie and local resident Roger Van Cleave had recently resurrected back to life.
“Oh, hi, Betty Jean. Yep, Zeke and I are just a regular couple.”
“You’re t
he closest thing this town has to Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston. What I want to know is, who’s the Angelina Jolie in this story?”
“There is no Angelina Jolie.”
“There’s always an Angelina Jolie. Especially when there’s a good looking man involved. And honey, your man is just about the best looking thing this town has ever seen.”
Mimi didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. After eighteen years of marriage, she’d gotten used to other women telling her how attractive they found her husband. Normally, she’d laugh it off, especially since this was Betty Jean and she was old enough to be Zeke’s grandmother. Unfortunately, today she wasn’t in a laughing mood.
“I promise you, there’s no Angelina Jolie.”
Betty Jean gave her a hard stare. “So the rumors about Cindy aren’t true?”
“Cindy? You mean, Cindy who works at the police department?”
“Special friendships among co-workers are the number one cause of divorce. I read that in Redbook.” Betty Jean frowned. “Or one of those lady magazines.”
Special friendships, huh? Not that Cindy wasn’t attractive, but the thought of her and Zeke…well, it was just too ridiculous to give any serious attention. But that didn’t mean people weren’t still saying it.
“First of all, we’re not getting a divorce. And secondly, what kind of rumors have you heard?” Mimi asked cautiously.
The older woman waved a negligent hand through the air. “The usual. That they’re doing the hanky-panky.”
Mimi blinked. “Hanky panky?” She hadn’t heard that term since the second grade.
“You know,” Betty Jean clarified, not bothering to lower her voice. “The horizontal mamba. Stuffin’ the muffin. Slytherin’ her Hufflepuff. Good lord, woman! How much more explicit do I need to be?”
Slytherin’ her Hufflepuff?
This time, Mimi did laugh. “Thanks for the heads up, but I feel extremely confident that Zeke and Cindy have nothing more than a strictly professional relationship.”