I tossed in a few of my own songs, although, I stuck mostly to the well-known artists. I had told Candy I’d play until midnight, and even though my heart wasn’t in it, I stuck it out until closing.
When I finally got home, I longed to call John, but I figured he might still be at the hospital or in an interrogation room of the FBI. I may watch a little too much TV, but what if they did think he was the arsonist who’d been setting fires around the neighborhood and were trying to break John’s silence in unethical methods? I’d seen enough episodes of Jack Baer to know what happens behind closed doors.
Needing to unwind, I sat for a while with my legs up, Milo purring contentedly beside me. His furry coat kept my bare feet warm. Pepe was squawking and cursing, probably wanting attention. Finally, I had enough and put the hood over his cage and went to bed.
The next morning, over my first cup of coffee, I watched the local news. The head story was the fire, with graphic pictures of the scene. No one mentioned John as a possible suspect, but the police captain made a statement that they were narrowing their search and appreciated the calls pouring in from concerned citizens.
“Blah, blah, blah. What you’re really saying is that you don’t know Jack Shit,” I told the screen. “And I’m going to call John to prove it.”
When I called his home, there was no answer, so I called the fire department and asked to speak to the chief. “Tell him it’s his mother.”
“He doesn’t have a mother.”
“A sister?” I asked hopefully.
“Not that I know of.”
“Okay. Do I have to tell you my name?”
“Only if you want to speak to him.”
“Fran. Fran Sherman.”
“Hey, Frannie, how’re you doing? It’s Jeff. Guess you heard the news, huh?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m calling. Is John around?”
“Right here.”
“Hello,” John’s voice was husky.
“John, hi.” I sucked in a breath. “It’s Fran. I heard about the fire, and I’ve been worried about you. Are you okay?”
“I’ve had better days.”
“I’m sure you have. How’s Mike doing?”
“He’s still in a coma, but the doctors say his brain is at rest. They’re optimistic about his recovery, but he’s going to be laid up for awhile. He broke his shoulder, busted several ribs, and ruptured a lung.”
“Oh, my gosh!” I exclaimed. “That’s awful. His poor family, they must be beside themselves.”
“Yes, it’s hard on everyone.” John let out a deep breath. “The good news is that they expect he’ll live.” He cleared his throat. “Carol hasn’t left his side. The kids are with her mother.”
“What a terrible time for them. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Pray.” His voice trembled. “Thanks for your concern. I appreciate your call.”
“John, I heard it was your house.” I rushed on, “I’m so sorry.”
He was silent.
I softened my voice. “Don’t be blaming yourself. None of this is your fault.”
“It was a piece of crap. A foreclosure that’s been on the market for over a year and left to rot. It was probably a walking firebomb.”
“Oh, John. You’re killing me here.” I licked my lips and fought back tears.
“Fran, thanks for calling, but do me a favor and don’t get involved.” He hung up.
I sat there for a few minutes, feeling angry and upset because he continually shut me out. There wasn’t anything I could do to help him, and even if I could, he didn’t want me in his life. He’d already told me that several times and I’ve only known him intimately for about a week.
That said, he didn’t know me well enough. When I cared about someone, I didn’t give up on them. Whether the feelings I had for him were shared or not, I would worry about him and keep him fondly in my heart. He couldn’t take that away from me.
Stirred up by his most recent rejection, I spent the next few hours working on a new song. I strummed my guitar, searching for just the right beat, and when I had something that sounded right, I played with the lyrics. This is my usual M.O. I work the strings until I have a pleasing melody and wait for the words to come. Sometimes, it’s like pulling teeth, other times, it comes easy.
Today, the words flowed like rich wine.
“Will you miss me when I’m gone, will your heart ever mend? Tell me, dear, will you look for me then? Who will warm your bed at night? Kiss you deep and tell you goodnight? Tell me, darling, do you miss me tonight?”
I was definitely getting into this song and it brought tears to my eyes. “Who will you call if I’m not there? Alone in your castle, where the stars shine bright. I’m telling you, honey, you’ll remember me then.”
The phone rang, and I put my guitar aside. “Hello?” I sniffed.
“What’s wrong?” Susie asked.
“Nothing. I was just writing a song.”
“Oh, good. Want to go to the hospital with me? I thought I’d go see Mike and give his wife a break. She hasn’t left his side since yesterday.”
“That’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll sing him my new song.”
“Not if it’s a tearjerker. Let’s try for something a little more upbeat.” In a mellow voice, she added, “This reminds me so much of when Brett was in that burn unit. I felt so helpless, and he was in such pain. I was terrified that he’d die.”
“I know you were, honey. Pick me up in an hour and we’ll insist that Carol go home and rest. She’s going to need to be strong and keep her spirits up for a long time to come. “
“My thinking exactly. We can’t help him, so this is the best we can do.”
“I’ll bring a Scrabble game.”
“You always win at Scrabble,” Susie grumbled.
“That’s all right. You always cheat.”
* * *
Mike looked terrible, and it was heart wrenching to see this young, virile man with a tube stuck in his chest and bandages wrapped around his head. Every breath he took sounded agonizing.
With coaxing, Carol finally agreed to go home, shower, and change. Once she left, Susie and I took up seats next to Mike’s bed and held a lively conversation. His eyes remained closed and his breathing was shallow, but we hoped he knew he wasn’t alone.
“What are you doing here?” John strolled inside, looking first at me then nodding to Susie. “Where’s Carol?”
Every nerve in my body hit high alert, and I had to fight the impulse to run to him and hug him tight.
“We sent her home,” Susie answered. “She needs some rest. This is going to be a long ordeal.”
“That was good of you,” he said quietly. “I had the same idea.”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from John. He was a large man, yet he managed to look terribly fragile. His normally ruddy complexion was pale, and the folds under his eyes looked dark and puffy.
Clearly, he was on edge. I watched him move around the room like a pacing tiger.
“We’ve got this covered,” Susie said pleasantly. “But you could rustle us up something to eat if you’d like. We raced over here and forgot about lunch.” She smiled kindly at him. “Although, it wouldn’t hurt me to skip a few meals with the wedding coming up.”
“I’m sure your size zero gown will be falling off you,” I said, eyeing her slim figure. “A sandwich won’t hurt.”
“Size two,” she corrected me. “And I bought it a couple of month’s ago. Now the bodice is tight. I’ve put on a few pounds lately. Right around my middle.”
“Maybe you’re pregnant,” I said with delight. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”
“No. And I’m not pregnant. Just bloated.” Susie glanced at John. “Don’t mention this to Brett. I am definitely not pregnant. Okay?”
He nodded. “So you want to eat or not?”
Susie nodded. “I’ll have half a tuna fish on whole wheat, fruit on the side. How about you, Fran?”
&nb
sp; I swallowed hard. John hadn’t spoken to me or looked in my direction and it hurt. My stomach felt all twisted inside, because I really cared about him, whether he reciprocated the feelings or not. Still, I had my pride, and if he didn’t want to speak to me, then I could easily return the favor. “Turkey on rye and a bag of chips. And a Diet Coke,” I added as an after thought.
He backed out of the room. “Call me if he wakes, won’t you? I need to tell him something.”
“Whatever it is you have to tell him can wait until he’s strong enough to hear it,” I said a little too sharply.
“I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
I glared at him, still annoyed by our previous conversation. Why did he refuse to let me in? I know what it’s like to live alone and not let anyone get close, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. “Leave him in peace, if the poor fellow has any.”
Susie glanced at John, then back at me. “Whatever is the matter with you two, take it outside.”
I folded my arms under my breasts and lifted my chin. I knew I had a defiant look on my face and that John deserved my wrath. His rejection hurt me.
John’s shoulders slumped and he left the room, looking like a flogged horse.
“I’m sorry, Fran. I warned you not to get your heart involved.” She put her hand over mine.
“Yeah, it’s over. Better for both of us.” Even as I spoke the words, I didn’t believe it.
Susie gave me a quizzical look, but wisely didn’t ask questions.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JOHN
I headed down to the lobby in search of the hospital cafeteria, relieved to escape Fran and Susie. Maybe it was guilt talking, but I could swear the girls looked at me differently than before. Everyone did. Even my own crew was sending each other covert glances behind my back. You’d think I’d burned my own house down, the way people were acting.
The damn police officers had been no better. They’d asked me some really dumb questions that had finally ticked me off. I’d supplied all the information I could, but when they questioned my whereabouts and started digging around about my insurance policy, I hit the roof.
I’d fought fires my whole damned life—why in the good Lord’s name would I want to start one? Especially when it put my own men at risk. Besides, it didn’t benefit me any. I was doing all right fixing up places and renting them out. I had a long-term goal and figured that the real estate market would come back eventually, and when it did I’d be in fine shape. Meanwhile, the rents gave me a nice little nest egg to put aside for my future business.
If I was under suspicion, why the hell didn’t someone just come out and accuse me? Because they knew they’d get my fist planted in their mouth, that’s why.
Not wanting to bother with the cafeteria, I headed for the smaller sandwich shop and ordered three to go. I tossed in a few bags of chips, not sure what kind Fran preferred. Not that I cared. She could go get her own damn chips as far as I was concerned. Damn woman. She had a smart mouth on her and a way that got under my skin.
When I marched back in the room, Susie and Fran were playing a word game. They were so engrossed they didn’t look up.
“Back so soon?” Fran asked with a sweet smile, which didn’t fool me. She may be sweet, but she was also cunning and knew how to get what she wanted. She-devil. I had her pegged right from the start.
“Here’s your food,” I said, tossing the bag on the side table.
“Thanks,” Susie said. Reaching for the bag, she handed out the sandwiches.
Now that’s the sweet one, I decided. At least for now. When she’s married to Brett, she’ll turn out like all the rest. Selfish, demanding, domineering. Women can’t help themselves. I tried to warn him. Now all I can do is stand by and be ready to pick up the pieces. Like I do with all the men. When their wives kick them out, who do they stay with? Me. Who do they come crying to when the shit hits the fan? Me. Where do they go for poker nights so their wives don’t get mad? My house.
And this is the thanks I get. The crew’s turned their back on me, whispering shit that makes no sense. Calling me a slum dog landlord. To my face.
Well, it hurts, and I don’t like it. I was one of the guys, and now they’re acting like my making money by buying shitty real estate was an act of treason or some fool thing. I’m still a firefighter. That’s what I am, and what I’ll be until the day I die. Sure, I like fishing. I want to run a day charter cruise for businessmen who have money to burn. Doesn’t change who I am.
Fuckin’ A-holes, that’s what they are.
I touched Mike’s hand. “Hey, you okay in there? You want a bite to eat?”
I knew I sounded stupid asking him if he’d like to eat when he was in a fucking coma, but I didn’t care. I needed to speak to Mike, whether he could hear me or not.
The girls said nothing, but I knew they were listening. Even though I felt a little self-conscious with them around, I still spoke the words that needed saying.
“Look, I’m real sorry about this mess you’re in. We’re going to get you fixed up and out of here as soon as possible. I promise you that. The boys are all thinking about you and want you back, lickedy-split. Can you do that for them? Get well? Get your ass out of here?”
He seemed to blink; at least I thought I saw a flickering in his eyes. I decided to press my luck. “You know that this wasn’t my fault, right? I just bought the house a few weeks ago and didn’t have time to fix it up right yet. I didn’t know it was unsafe. I promise you that.”
I stopped and blew my nose, ashamed of the tears blurring my vision. I used the back of my hand to swipe at them but kept my eyes on Mike’s face. “We will catch the creep who did this. We’ll make him pay, don’t worry. That damn fucker won’t get away with this, I promise you.”
My shoulders hunched over, and I damn near trembled with rage. I wanted to get my hands on that bastard and rip his head off.
Fran stepped beside me and put a hand on my back. “It’s okay, John. You’ve told him what you came here to say. Now, please sit down and have some lunch. He knows you’re here for him.”
It surprised me to see the tears glittering in her eyes, and suddenly, I felt this big lump in my throat. I couldn’t speak or I might start to blubber, so I did as she said and took a seat.
I stuffed some chips in my mouth and washed them down with a large gulp of soda. Susie and Fran were trying hard not to look at me, and the three of us ate our lunch in an uncomfortable silence.
I didn’t know what they thought of me but it didn’t matter. It couldn’t be anywhere near as low as what I thought of myself.
Food gone, I picked up the cellophane wrappers and soda cans and dumped everything in the bin.
“Well, goodbye ladies. I’ll let the guys down at the station know that Mike’s in good hands.”
Susie jumped up and wrapped her arms around my middle. She put her cheek on my chest and hugged me tight. “You’re a good person, John Hanley, and don’t let anyone say you’re not.”
Awkwardly, I patted her head and looked over at Fran. She stood as well, and the look on her face made me feel worse. She looked so sad as her pretty eyes met mine. Her mouth trembled a little but she didn’t speak.
I knew I had put a kibosh on any type of a relationship between us, and maybe she was just as uncomfortable as I was. But I knew one thing for damn sure. I’d have enjoyed her arms around me a hellova lot more than Susie’s. My lips would have founds hers too.
I walked out of the room before I could do anything foolish and returned to the fire station to give the lowdown to the guys.
They were playing cards when I got there and mumbled something in way of a greeting.
“Saw Mike today.” I spoke casually, still feeling my way around these guys that I’ve known like brothers for the past decade or so. However, the fire and the accident changed all that. “He didn’t look too good, but a heck of a lot better than you pricks.”
That brought a few smiles.
&nbs
p; “Yeah, look whose talking.” Brett grinned. “You’ve got jowls like a bloodhound.”
“I don’t have jowls. I have a square chin and a strong face.” I put my shoulders back and lifted my chin. “Twenty years back, I was having dinner at Joe’s Stone Crab and this lady asked me for an autograph. Thought I was Selleck. I didn’t have the heart to disappoint her.”
“You get laid?” one of the guys asked.
“Naw. I was with my wife. Way before she became a lesbian. Had I known at the time, I’d have shown this fine young lady a new step or two.”
The guys hooted with laughter, and I joined in. The ice was broken, and I took up my seat at the head of the table. “Deal me in.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FRAN
“You okay, Fran?” Susie asked me.
I took a deep breath and blinked a couple of times. “Sure. Why shouldn’t I be?”
We were still in the hospital room, and the last thing I was going to do was cry over John or any man for that matter. Well, maybe Mike, because he deserved a pot full of tears, but John most certainly did not.
He might not be an arsonist, but he was still a jerk. A sweet jerk, but one nevertheless. What kind of a guy didn’t want to date women and was fixated on buying a boat for fishing charters? Surrounded by men all day, he obviously planned to keep it that way. John was the kind of guy who’d go to a party and hang with the guys, smoking cigars, cracking jokes. Wouldn’t matter how many pretty women were there, he’d never notice them anyway.
Damn him and the horse he rode in on.
My heart turned to mush when he’d cried over Mike’s bed. I’d wanted to feel his warm body next to mine and his strong arms wrapped around me as I gave him comfort. He was too macho for that. Didn’t need a woman taking care of him. Or loving him. Kind of like a modern day mountain man, he preferred his solace and freedom. Not that there were mountains in Florida, except the grassy sloped environmental garbage dumps, but if we had them, I could picture him holed up in a little cabin in the foothills, with the beautiful snow capped mountain directly behind.
The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series Page 52