by Chris Chegri
He’d been so sure, after losing his wife years ago due to impatience, he could win Kelly by taking their relationship one day at a time. Granted, they’d only known each other for a short while, but he’d fallen in love with her from the moment he’d seen her. He thought Kelly loved him, too. But she didn’t trust him. He’d always thought the two went hand in hand. It didn’t make any sense to him, but he knew when to give up.
Steve parked the Jeep under the carport and climbed out, dragging his feet across the gravel. He hadn’t thought anything could be as devastating as his divorce. He’d been wrong. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he’d been kicked in the stomach. The pain of Kelly’s distrust was physical. All day long, he’d anticipated seeing her, eager to hold her in his arms, taste her lips, feel her skin silky and soft against his. He shuddered, unwanted waves of passion stirring between his legs. God, he wanted to hate her, but instead he longed to make love to her tonight and hold her until morning. Damn! The woman messed with his mind.
He strode up the sidewalk leading to the house, his loins tight and uncomfortable, the wild spicy fragrance of carnation—growing thick in a nearby flowerbed—filling his nostrils and reminding him of Kelly, the scent she wore. He ached with disappointment and the kind of tension only a woman or a cold shower could cure. With no choice, he headed for the kitchen, poured himself a stiff drink, and took a cold shower.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kelly pretended to listen while Lacy regaled her with the splendid details of her day with Steve and Gary, but her heart wasn’t in it, her concentration somewhere down the river road following Steve’s Jeep home. She hadn’t wanted to care but, driven by curiosity, had taken the opportunity to question Lacy about her adversary, Gary Benson. However, her six-year-old’s perspective differed from an adult’s, and Kelly gleaned little information about Steve’s mysterious fishing buddy.
She did learn Gary was a bit overweight, had funny eyes—whatever that meant—and made Lacy laugh when he talked. Lacy liked Gary and was devastated to hear she and her mother would not be seeing him or Steve again. With a strangled whimper, the child rolled over and fell right to sleep.
Kelly absently stroked her daughter’s shiny curls, overwhelmed by loss herself. Although she was afraid her decision might scar her daughter as her own father’s desertion had scarred her, she told herself Lacy would get over it.
Deep down she knew she was lying to herself. Steve was the first important man in Lacy’s life, and after only a few weeks of what could have been a strong relationship, Lacy had been crushed by Kelly’s announcement that Steve wouldn’t be back.
Kelly tiptoed from Lacy’s room and left the house for the privacy of the back porch. She paced its length with the restlessness of a hungry cat, never once craving her candy cigarettes. She may have won this battle, but it seemed insignificant now.
Her mind whirled with confusion. She’d convinced herself Lacy needed a father, had started to believe she, herself, needed more in her life, but Jill’s betrayal had blindsided her, reminding her she and Lacy were better off alone. She needed time to lick her wounds.
Steve’s face flashed before her eyes. The hurt and disbelief in his eyes when he’d realized she had called the police on him, had almost killed her. His clear green eyes had glazed over with disbelief, she assumed to avoid revealing his true emotions. She’d been so busy protecting herself from future pain she’d hurt him deeply. Betrayed his trust of her.
She shook her head. Maybe a good shake and things will fall back into perspective. She’d been protecting her daughter, she told herself, and in the process had made a complete fool out of herself. Now, instead of being free and strong, she was empty and alone, and felt just a little bit dirty.
She settled into one of the lounge chairs. Her nerves tingled as if they were exposed on the surface of her skin. Exhausted from the ordeals of the past twenty-four hours, she knew she couldn’t fall asleep. She would just sit here for a while and try to sort out all of her emotions.
She wasn’t sure whether the morning sunlight warming her skin or the telephone ringing in the house woke her up, but Kelly jumped out of the lounge chair, looking around to get her bearings, then dashed into the house to answer the phone.
Lacy was already up, poised in front of the TV.
“Ted? Yes. No, uh—I was at the computer.” She hoped Lacy couldn’t hear her fib. She didn’t like to lie but couldn’t imagine how she had fallen asleep on the porch, much less managed to sleep there all night long. “Sure, I’ll finish up what I’m working on and be right in.”
She dropped the phone back into its cradle and looked over at Lacy, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, Skunk curled up on one knee. “How long have you been up, young lady?”
“I don’t know.” Lacy grabbed the rat by his tail.
Kelly cringed, imagining Skunk’s discomfort. “Lace, don’t hold Skunk by the tail.” She wrinkled her nose with disapproval. “You might hurt him.” The pet shop personnel had done the same thing, but Kelly couldn’t imagine it felt good.
Lacy grabbed the rat around the middle and, after kissing his whiskers and uttering a sincere apology, stood up and gave her mother a hug.
Kelly glanced at the clock. It was already nine thirty. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I couldn’t find you,” Lacy replied and resumed her cartoon watching.
“Well, let’s go. You’ve watched enough cartoons this morning, and I have to get to the paper. That was Mr. Willis, my boss. He wants to talk to me about a job, so I’ll have to drop you off at school until I’ve finished.”
They dressed, each grabbed a piece of toast, and left the house twenty minutes later.
Kelly climbed the stairs and strode down the hall to Ted Willis’ office. She knocked twice, and when he called out from behind the glass panel, she opened the door and entered.
“Come in, come in,” he blustered in the same gruff voice she’d overheard him using with his wife on the phone one day. It seemed he treated everyone with undue annoyance.
Since the first day she’d called in late, she’d been uncomfortable with Willis although she tried not to show it.
“Good morning, Ted.” She fended off his grumpiness with a smile and a warm greeting.
“Rubbish! It’s no such thing, and that’s why I called you down here.”
Kelly couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d doused her with a bucket of ice water.
“Now look here, Pearson…”
His use of her last name plucked a raw nerve. Tensing, she trained her gaze on her navy blue heels. She wasn’t up to Ted Willis this morning. Why couldn’t he have pulled someone else’s name out of the barrel?
“Will you stop that damned squirming, woman!” Willis’ bellow caused the frosted glass pane in the door to jar.
Kelly’s chin snapped up. Tired, unhappy, and confused, she didn’t give a damn right now about her job, Florida, Jill, Ken, Steve, or anything else. And she definitely wasn’t in the mood to stand there and let Willis yell at her. She’d approached him with caution since her arrival at the News Journal, but now she blew caution to the wind and back in his flushed face.
“Mr. Willis,” she blasted, startling him into silence. “I am not accustomed to being treated like a kindergartner. My hearing is as good as yours. Maybe better.” She noted the clumps of wiry, gray hair growing out of his ears.
“I assume you are a man of fair intellect, not a man to hire complete idiots to do your reporting. Therefore, I would appreciate your treating me with the respect I think all your reporters deserve.” Her shoulders squared, chin held high, Kelly stared at him head on, feeling more herself than she had in weeks. “Now, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
Ted Willis sat up, eyebrows raised, mouth agape. Unaccustomed to confrontation, he stammered a bit—no doubt to shield his embarrassment—while eyeing her from beneath his bushy gray eyebrows. “Well. I suppose you have a point, Pearson.”
“Now, I called you in because Waldo Teish has had a gall bladder attack and is under the knife as we speak.”
Kelly’s boldness evaporated, replaced by concern. “Is he all right?”
“Yes, yes. He’ll be fine, just indisposed for a time. Now, I know you’re trying to wrap up your manatee story and are working on the dry cleaner piece, but I have to have someone at the Cape Saturday morning for the shuttle launch.”
When she wilted into the chair in front of him, Willis eyed her, looking confused.
“Please, not the Cape,” she pleaded. “Isn’t there anyone else available to cover the launch? I’m right in the middle of my article, and I’ll lose my train of thought.”
She could tell by his expression Willis wasn’t sure which Kelly Pearson was the real one—the whiny wimp or the confident journalist—and right now it didn’t matter. The last thing she wanted was to go to Cape Canaveral and run into Steve.
“Bull, Pearson. What’s with you and the Cape? Your resume said you were a pro at handling numerous projects at once. That’s why I hired you. This is a small paper, and everyone here has to carry a load. You included. We cover every shuttle launch. Now cut the crap and do what you have to do, but be there, ya hear?”
“Yes, I’ll be there,” she acquiesced, tarnished after her brief moment of glory when she’d stood up to the old fart.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Nothing could soothe Kelly’s troubled soul better than the cry of sea gulls overhead or warm sand squishing between her toes. She stretched out on the beach towel and watched a bevy of fluffy white clouds skip across the blue sky. It was late Thursday afternoon. Earlier, she and Lacy had visited Waldo at the hospital with a bouquet of balloons and some Sudoku books to keep him busy. Kelly had also grabbed a quick guide to astrology, which had elicited a laugh from Waldo, causing him to wince with pain at the site of his new incision. When she and Lacy left, they’d grabbed a late lunch and decided to go to the beach. Work could wait. She had all night.
The last two days had seemed so empty without Jill calling or Steve dropping by. She’d spent all day Wednesday and this morning digging through clips on previous shuttle launches. Scheduled for seven thirty Saturday morning, hundreds of spectators would be at the space center for the launch. Just thinking about running into Steve triggered the return of butterflies in her stomach, and she prayed for a larger than usual crowd of spectators. She assumed the more dense the crowd, the better she would be able to hide.
On one hand, she wanted to see him, but only from a distance. She was too ashamed to face him after failing to trust him, accusing him of running off with her daughter. God, did I really do that? She cringed just thinking about it.
It was ironic that she—an obsessive protector of her emotions, builder of the great emotional barrier—had turned out to be the one who had inflicted the pain. Steve probably hated her. He had a right to.
At first she’d worried he might try to call her, until she realized just how offended he was by her impulsive actions. Looking back, she couldn’t believe she’d called the police, but at the time there seemed to have been no other choice. She didn’t think she would ever forget the astonishment on his face, the hurt in his eyes.
As she sank deeper and deeper into her thoughts, Kelly’s sand drizzles grew heavier and heavier, finally collapsing one side of the delicate castle they’d spent all morning erecting.
“Mommy, Mommy,” Lacy shrieked with dismay, jolting Kelly back to the present. “You’re ruining the castle.”
“Oh, Lace, I’m sorry.” She patted the wall of sand back into place.
Lacy seemed to sense her mother’s preoccupation. “It’s okay. The waves are gonna wreck it after we leave, anyway. We can build another one tomorrow.”
Kelly was both amazed and enlightened by her daughter’s pragmatic and sensitive remark. “Come here, pumpkin.” She opened her sandy arms to her daughter. Lacy climbed onto her mom’s lap and leaned back against Kelly’s chest. Kelly’s gaze swept the length of her daughter’s long, skinny legs. Lacy was getting big.
The waves, now warm and inviting, rolled in and out, breaking just beyond their feet, leaving behind scores of colorful periwinkles and sand crabs, scurrying to hide from the gulls hovering in the air currents above.
Lacy’s eyelids grew heavy and she drifted off in her mother’s arms. Kelly sat quietly enjoying the closeness of mother and daughter.
Out of the corner of her eye, a blur of movement caught Kelly’s attention. A large dog of mixed breed—mostly golden retriever—dashed into the surf, barking and snapping at the waves a good distance down the beach.
“Junker! Come here, boy,” Steve hollered at his dog over the sounds of the surf and seagulls.
Kelly’s heart began a race it could never win. Steve was with a friend—another man, his back turned to Kelly while Junker frolicked in the waves. Of course, Kelly didn’t know the other man. She didn’t know any of Steve’s friends.
Steve ran into the water after Junker. Clad in a pair of navy bathing shorts, his strong tan legs stretched and flexed with every step. He splashed the dog, and Junker snapped at the water. The other man laughed and said something, but they were just far enough away that his words were unclear.
They climbed out of the surf, stepping high over the waves, and headed back down the beach, Steve’s broad, well defined shoulders rolling with the rhythm of his stride. Every female within fifty yards had her eyes on him. Junker jumped up and licked him in the face. Steve pulled his head back and laughed. He hadn’t seen her yet, and she didn’t want him to, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
A pang of bitterness she had no right to feel soured her mood. He isn’t mourning his losses.
Sunlight played across the angular planes of his chest, and she recalled the hard feel of it against the soft fullness of her own. A chill, with no roots from the wind, traveled up her spine and tightened her nipples beneath her scant bikini top. The gentle caress of his firm hand cupping her breast burned in her memory.
A flash of heat seared her skin, having nothing to do with the sun, and she groaned with frustration, resenting his effect on her. She grabbed Lacy and jumped up, startling the child. Collecting their towels, she slipped her feet into her flip-flops then helped Lacy into hers. They scurried through the soft sand back toward the dune.
Looking over her shoulder, Lacy exclaimed, “Wait, Mommy. There’s Steve and Junker.”
“We can’t stay, Lacy. Steve isn’t our friend anymore.” She pulled Lacy along and when the child began to cry, Kelly wasn’t sure if it was Lacy’s crying or the pounding of her own heart that threatened to bring tears to her own eyes.
When they reached the front door, her cell phone started ringing. Ignoring the phone, Kelly jiggled the key in the lock, almost pushed the door off its hinges, then answered the cell mid-sprint.
“Kelly? It’s Jill.”
Kelly bristled, the pain inflicted by Jill’s betrayal choking any response.
Lacy strolled through the living room, dragging sand across the pale blue carpet. Kelly scowled, pointed at Lacy’s sandy feet and motioned her into the bathroom.
“What do you want, Jill?” Kelly asked in a tight voice.
“To tell you how sorry I am. I know I deserve every bit of scorn you can muster.”
Kelly’s gut tightened. She didn’t answer, not knowing how she felt or how to respond.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom. She hurried down the hall, afraid Lacy might scald herself with the hot water. Cell in one hand, Kelly stretched over the tub and tested the water. She sighed with relief. It was perfect, by accident of course. Lacy had turned both knobs—the tub was outdated—and she was bent over naked, removing her sandy suit.
“Kelly? Are you still there?” Jill’s voice called out from the cell phone.
Kelly dropped onto the edg
e of the tub and put the cell to her ear. “Look Jill, I’m really busy—”
“I won’t blame you a bit if you hang up on me right now, but I’ve done a lot of thinking, and I’ve come to some uncomfortable conclusions about myself, and I wanted you to hear my confession.”
Kelly took a deep breath. She was lonely and needed to believe in someone, so she listened.
“After you hung up the other night, I felt pretty sick about the whole thing. I started thinking about you, me, and the conversations we’ve had in the past. Boy, Kelly, I had to dig through a lot of slop before I saw the light. I realized, like you—who refuses to get involved with a man to keep from being hurt— that I’ve been playing it safe too, but in a different way. By dating married men, I haven’t had to make a commitment.
“My dating Ken was no different than any of the others really, even though he was no longer married to you. The fact is, I couldn’t openly see him without hurting you. So, like the others, I didn’t have to make a commitment.” She paused. Kelly waited.
“Not like that would ever have happened. He’s a selfish jerk, just like you always said. I’m so sorry Kel.”
Kelly’s eyes filled with tears, the terrible pain of Jill’s deception still fresh. “Jill, your dating Ken isn’t what made me so mad,” she said. “It was your hiding it from me that hurt like hell. Still does. That you could risk our relationship…” She couldn’t finish. A sob caught in her throat. “You allowed him to spin your loyalty away from me and Lacy. I can’t forgive you for that.”
“Kelly, believe me, my allegiance has always been with you. I never took his side. It’s just that you were so obsessed, so angry at him. You were making yourself sick. I just wanted to simplify things, see you happy again. Your behavior seemed so self-destructive.”