by Edie Ramer
“Maybe you need to talk. Not sure if I do.”
“Yeah, you do. We’re all the family we’ve got.”
Holden opened his mouth to answer him when the lack of movement on the floor caught his attention. He swung his gaze to Cara. “All three of us are family. And one kitten.”
Beaming, Cara turned back to her puzzle pieces.
“Cara, Uncle Ryan and I will be in the kitchen.” He nodded at the kitchen she could easily see just by turning her head.
“Okay, Daddy.”
In the kitchen, Ryan opted to stand a few feet from him while he made coffee, telling Holden that someday he was going to be a great dad. Each word was like broken glass rubbed onto Holden’s nerves.
Only a short time had passed since Cara had been dropped off at his house. He’d never been an emotional man. He’d only taken Cara because it was the right thing to do. Because her grandparents were running away from her as if she carried the plague.
And now taking care of her seemed to be the most important thing in the world that he should do.
He set the two coffees on the kitchen island. There were stools on the other side, but he remained standing, and so did Ryan.
“What do you want?” Holden asked.
“To apologize. I was an ass yesterday.”
He gazed toward the living room. “You were. I accept your apology.” It was easy to forgive him when he’d done something so much worse.
And so much more wonderful.
“Don’t make it so easy. I don’t deserve it.”
Something in Ryan’s voice—maybe it was sincerity or just a good imitation—caught Holden’s attention. He looked Ryan straight in his eyes. “You want the truth?”
His forehead scrunched, Ryan looked down at his shoes then up. “Like the movie says, I don’t know if I can handle the truth. I’ve been pretty much a shitty human being.”
“I don’t know if you’re that far gone, but you’ve been selfish. You feel entitled.”
Ryan raised his gaze. “That’s the difference between us. You think every person is entitled.”
“You’re wrong there. I think everyone has to earn it. Even me, even you.”
“How?” Ryan frowned at him, not an angry frown but as if he really wanted to know how he could earn his entitlement.
No, Holden thought, this wasn’t about earning entitlement for Ryan. He wanted to know how he could earn respect.
“It’s simple but not always easy. By being a decent person.”
“Let me give you a scenario.” Ryan took a gulp of coffee before continuing, and it looked to Holden like he wished it was a slug of something alcoholic. He set the mug down. “What if your parents were selfish shits? What if the grandparents who raised you didn’t like anything you did and kept comparing you to your older brother? And then you grew up and grew a little wild and were careless and uncaring. And no one was surprised. They all expected it from you, and you sure the hell didn’t blast their expectations. How hard would it be for that guy to turn into a decent person?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re the only one who can. I’d think in that case, you’d want to show the world you’re not letting people who were lousy at child raising define you. That you’re a hell of a lot better than what they or anyone else thinks.”
Ryan turned his gaze to the living room. “But what if you’re afraid you’re not?”
“You think everyone isn’t afraid?” Holden made his voice low when he wanted to shout at Ryan. But not with Cara in the house. “You think everyone doesn’t have doubts? You think I don’t? If you do, you’re wrong. I’m loaded with doubts. Ask any psychiatrist about self-doubt. They’ll tell you the only people who don’t have them are psychopaths.”
Ryan looked at him again with a half grin. “So by doubting myself, I’m proving I’m not a psychopath?”
“As far as I know, you could still be a psychopath. But going forward with your life despite the doubts proves you’re going to keep trying until you get it. Just like the rest of us.”
Ryan nodded at the patio. “It’s looking good outside. You mind talking on the patio?”
Holden picked up his coffee and raised his voice so it would carry into the living room. “Cara, Holden and I will be on the patio in the back.”
“Daddy, I got the rainbow!”
He frowned at Ryan. “You go ahead. I’ll join you in a minute.”
He was glad Ryan didn’t follow him. Ryan would think he was doing this out of duty. Or out of pity. Maybe that’s what had started it, but now he was doing it for the same reason Cara had lost her heart to the kitten. Epic needed her. Cara needed him.
There was something powerful about being needed. It was hard to walk away from that need, hard not to lose your heart.
He took a moment to admire the rainbow and Cara’s beaming face. Then the kitten batted the puzzle pieces out of order. Cara turned to scold Epic, and Holden told her he’d be on the patio, in case any more kittens attacked her princess castle.
He left to her giggles, and though he knew taking on the role of a father was going to hold challenges and irritations, right now being a father just made him feel...pretty damn great.
And then he thought about the rest of his life, and that great emotion drained away.
Everything Ryan had talked about pertained to him, too. The reason he was so stiff and held in his emotions. Even after last night.
He’d never been loved as a child, and that ruined him for love. He made wrong choices, choosing women who couldn’t love him back.
And what if he’d done it again?
Just about to step onto the patio, he stopped, fear shutting down his breath.
“Something wrong?” Ryan pushed out of the cushioned rattan chair.
Not able to talk, Holden shook his head and stepped onto the patio. He forced himself to exhale and inhale. To push down his own self-doubts and concentrate on Ryan. “What’s this about?”
“Portia,” Ryan said.
Holden headed to the patio railing. The grass sloped to the lake below. It was a perfect day, the sun not too hot yet, the air dry enough that there were no mosquitoes, just the buzz of flies. Later on today, he would do something outdoors with Cara, but he didn’t know what that should be. He wasn’t used to being a parent.
He didn’t want to talk about Portia. He didn’t want to think about her. But she was like a wisdom tooth that needed pulling. Better to pull it out fast.
After that, he would have to talk to Abby, but Portia first. “What about Portia?” he asked.
Ryan came up next to him and leaned his arms on the railing. “A few nights ago, Abby took me to the old barn where her partner makes the cat furniture.”
“That’s not news. I thought you were going to talk about Portia, not Abby.”
“I’m getting to it. Now who’s the impatient one?”
Holden raised his eyebrows. “We’re arguing about this, too?”
“It’s a story. Stories have to unfold.”
“I don’t want a story. I want facts. I want the truth.”
Now it was Ryan’s turn to look at him with his eyebrows raised. “Our lives are stories. And what’s a fact to you is a lie to someone else.”
“I don’t know what the hell that means.”
“That’s because you see life as black and white. I see it in colors.”
Holden thinned his lips. There was truth in what his brother said. There was also bullshit. “Go on with your story.”
“So you know the set-up of the place,” Ryan said. “The driveway splitting up, with the house and garage on one side, the barn on the other.”
Holden nodded.
“Thursday night, it was dark out, and there was a quarter moon,” Ryan continued. “The house was dark, too, but there were lights on by the garage, and I recognized a silver BMW parked on the driveway.”
Holden’s shoulders and neck muscles t
ensed.
“I already had the impression that Sam was gay,” Ryan said. “I asked Abby about it, and she didn’t say she was but didn’t say she wasn’t.”
“Did you ask who Sam’s guest was?”
“Would I do that?”
“Yes.”
Ryan huffed a laugh that didn’t have any humor in it. “You know me too well. Abby said she didn’t know, but I had the feeling she recognized the car.”
Holden’s hands clenched.
“I think it was—”
“Portia and Sam were sorority sisters.” Holden stared at the ripples on the lake and the sunlight sparkling on the blue waters, as if the sight saved his humanity. “She told me they were having dinner together.”
“I see.” Ryan pushed away from the rail. “I suppose it doesn’t mean anything.”
Holden nodded. But in that case, why were the house lights dark? And why hadn’t Portia told him she’d gone to Sam’s house? And if Ryan’s suspicions were right, it would explain Portia’s reluctance to have sex. It would explain a lot.
He’d already made his decision to break their engagement. This should make it easier.
“I’d better go,” Ryan said. “I have a date this afternoon. And there’s a cute blond in the family room whose artwork I need to admire. See you later.”
Listening to Ryan’s footsteps walk away and then the click of the door, Holden wondered who his date was.
The last woman he knew Ryan had dated was Abby.
A chill went through him, his stomach twisting.
***
Grace came home, and Abby screamed her news. “We’ve got an interested angel!”
Grace’s mouth opened in an O. She dropped her overnight bag, her eyes wide. “For the business?”
“I’m not talking about a trip to heaven.”
Grace squealed. Abby squealed. They grabbed each other and jumped like two young girls.
Abby pulled away, still holding Grace’s shoulders and Grace still holding hers. “It’s not set yet. He wants to see the workshop and talk to me and Sam.”
“Call him and set the date,” Grace said, her voice high.
“I’ve been trying to call Sam for two hours.” Her voice was high with excitement, too. “She’s not answering the phone or her email.”
“Go to her house.”
“I will.” She squealed again. Grace squealed, too, then they danced around the house. Minnie and Quigley leaped onto the cat tower to stay out of their way, Minnie scolding them loudly, voicing her disapproval of their wild laughter and noise.
After two more dance circles through the house, they flopped onto the couch, dizzy and grateful and breathless from the laughter and happy dancing. Abby felt boneless. She felt wonderful.
First the sex with Holden, and now this.
It had to work. It just had to.
Her heart still hammering, she jumped to her feet. “I’m going to try Sam again.”
“Maybe she’s working,” Grace said. “If she’s using one of her saws or has her music blasting, she wouldn’t hear you.”
Abby nodded, though this last week, she was pretty sure it wasn’t work that was keeping her business partner busy. But she wasn’t telling Grace what it was. Just as she wasn’t telling Grace what she’d done last night.
Some things weren’t any of her little sister’s business.
Of course, if Grace became sexually active, that would be different. Grace would need to tell her everything.
Abby just hoped that didn’t happen for a long time. Grace was much too young.
“If she doesn’t answer,” she said, “I’m going to drive to her place. She needs to be there when the angel comes. He said he’s done woodworking projects, and he’ll probably have questions for her.”
“I’m going to crash.” Grace pushed up from the couch and yawned. “We talked most of the night, and I can sleep for hours.”
“Dream that the angel loves our work and wants to fund everything,” Abby said and hurried to the office.
***
Twenty minutes later, she was pulling into the driveway of Sam’s farm. She recognized the silver BMW parked by the garage. Portia’s car.
Her shoulders tensed, though the car parked outside the garage was making it easier not to feel guilty about last night.
The front door was open when she reached it, just the screen door keeping her out. Before she could knock, Sam’s rottweiler/boxer mix rushed to the door, barking ferociously, teeth showing. Abby put her hand to the screen for the dog to smell.
“How’s Loki?” she asked. “How’s my sweetheart? I don’t get to see you enough.”
Behind him, she saw three cats. Loki was great with the cats, but he hadn’t been allowed in the workshop since the first week they started their business, when he’d chewed up a cat ladder and two cat perches.
“Hi, sweeties,” she said. “Is your mama home? Huh? Will one of you get your mom for me?”
They looked at her, nowhere near as talkative as her cats. She wasn’t surprised. She’d always known her cats were exceptional.
She rang the doorbell, getting more wince-worthy barks from Loki that scattered the cats. She finally shouted Sam’s name through the screen, adding, “It’s good news! Get your ass out here so you can hear it.”
“I’m coming!” Sam yelled, the shout coming from the back of the house.
It took two minutes before she could see Sam coming to the front. She wasn’t alone. Portia padded behind her. With her sleek body and dark brown hair, she reminded Abby of a beautiful feline.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel made her look behind her. She recognized the car coming up the driveway, and she groaned.
“What’s so important?” Sam asked, opening the screen door.
“I’ve got good news.” Stepping inside, Abby looked at Portia. “And I’ve got bad news.”
20
It looks like everything is going to work out, Quigley said.
Minnie lifted her head from the pool of sunlight she and Lion shared on the sofa. Quigley was at the top of the ladder, even though his obsession to be on top was depriving him of the direct rays of light.
Why do you think that? Minnie asked.
Mom is getting the money she needs, and she even has a mate.
We talked about this before. These are humans, and nothing is that easy for them.
But Mom isn’t like other humans. She’s better than them.
Exactly. Minnie put her head down.
Quigley leaped down the ladder, perch by perch, until he reached the carpet. He sashayed up to the couch and jumped onto it.
Minnie let him know with her stare and the lifted fur on her back that he was not getting her patch of sunlight. It was enough that she was sharing it with Lion, but he’d been there first. Besides, he was too big to push off.
I get it. Quigley stopped by her back paws. You’re saying it’s the other humans who might mess things up.
You are so smart, Minnie said.
I am. Quigley bent to lick the fur on his upper chest.
Minnie lay her head down again, the back of her head against Lion’s side. He made a nice pillow.
What if it doesn’t work out for Mom? Quigley asked. What are we going to do then?
I told you before. We’ll have to fix it.
Lion raised his large head. How?
She closed her eyes. The problem with Quigley was he didn’t believe her. Quigley had to see it to believe it. And Lion would tell her to leave it to Mom to fix.
Lion didn’t know humans like she did. He’d come to Mom as a rescue like her, but he’d been with a family before that. He’d never been on the streets, hiding from predators, dodging cars, looking for scraps to eat.
Quigley didn’t know what it was like, either. But if the time came to act, he would have to follow her, and together they would see what would happen.
And if he didn’t follow her, she would have to fix it herself.
; ***
Abby’s SUV was parked next to Portia’s BMW.
A dog was barking in Sam’s house.
Holden marched to the front door. He wasn’t letting anything stop him.
It took a moment before the barks stopped and the door opened. Abby invited him inside, her eyes sad, her lips twisted in a grimace.
Behind her, Sam scowled at him. She stood in front of Portia as if she was protecting her, though she was oddly leaning to the left. Then a low growl came from her thigh level, and Holden saw she was holding back a large, drooling, growling dog that seemed ready to pounce on him.
“Did you come to warn them?” he asked Abby.
“I had no idea you were coming here.” She frowned. “Where’s Cara? Is she in the car?”
His tension eased. Of course she hadn’t known he was on his way. If anyone should feel betrayed, it should be her. He’d made love to her when he was engaged, even though in his mind he’d been free.
And thank God, he would soon be free.
“Don’t worry.” He wanted to reach out and tell her everything was okay, but it wasn’t the time. Not yet. “Cara’s with Daisy.”
She smiled at him, and it felt like the sun coming out. He wanted to bask in it but couldn’t. Not until this was over.
He turned to Portia. He needed to get this done. “Do you have a few minutes?”
Sam bristled. “Anything you have to say to her—”
Portia’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she stepped around her protector. “I need to do this.”
“Do it where we can see you,” Sam said.
“Holden won’t hurt her.” Abby stepped to Sam’s right side and took her arm. “Let’s go into the kitchen.”
Sam narrowed her eyes at him then snapped around and stomped into the kitchen with Abby, dragging the dog with them.
With everyone gone but three curious cats, he could see that the room had about a half dozen pieces of cat furniture plus one wider and longer cushioned perch that must be for the dog. In this odd, rundown farmhouse, Portia looked as out of place as a gazelle in a lion zoo.
“Why did you accept my offer of marriage?” he asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“Life is complicated. Sex isn’t. Or it shouldn’t be.”