She stopped as many images came rushing around her. Her joy at seeing him. Her emptiness when he was gone. The sense of being whole when he was close.
“I love him,” she said simply. Although she hadn’t realized it before, the words sounded right. They were true. “I love him,” she repeated and smiled. “I really do.”
She tossed the last of the bread onto the water with a laugh. “I never thought I had a Prince Charming out there somewhere. I thought it was just a silly story. But I was wrong.”
Once the bread was gone, Fiona sat down on a stump and watched the birds swim about. “I don’t want him to leave,” she told them. “Ever.”
Alex stopped at the red light; the cross street was Olive. A gas station on one corner and a Polish National Alliance lodge hall—PNA No. 1183—on another. That meant the bar should be coming up soon.
The light turned green and he crossed the intersection, moving along the tired, old commercial strip that had probably been at its peak about fifty years ago. Back when huge factories provided full employment and the neighborhood was filled with corner grocery stores, bars, and bakeries. Now the buildings that weren’t boarded up were thrift shops and package liquor stores. But the bars still remained. The last bastion of the independent small businessman.
The marquee advertising Rosie’s Kazbar came up on his left and Alex slowed down. The sign in the window said the joint’s specialties were pirogi and tacos—Slavic ravioli and a Mexican staple.
After parking the car, Alex turned and walked in through the back door. The first thing that hit him was a dense, stagnant cloud of tobacco smoke that almost brought tears to his eyes. If the smog outside was this awful, the government would have recommended the elderly and respiratory patients stay inside.
Alex stepped into the main room and saw four men at the bar and a female bartender. She was the only one smoking. Apparently, the smoke in the air had built up over the years, embedding itself in the walls and fixtures.
Alex walked up to the old-fashioned bar, which was dark and deeply polished, and put his foot up on the shoe railing. “I’m looking for a couple of guys,” he said. “Crawford and Gus.”
“I only sell booze,” the barkeep replied.
“You Alex?” a stocky gray-haired man sitting around the corner of the bar asked. “I’m Gus.” He tilted his head toward a slender black man sitting next to him. “And this is Crawford.”
“You want a beer?” the barkeep asked Alex.
“Sure, a draft would be fine.” He looked at the two men’s near-empty glasses. “You guys use a refill?”
Both men agreed they could and, once they’d been served, Alex suggested they sit at a table. He led them, with Gus limping very noticeably, to a table farthest from the bar and the smoking barkeep, hoping for cleaner air. He sniffed the air as he sat down. His wish was not to be fulfilled.
The man called Crawford smirked at him. “The EPA’s declared this a toxic area,” he said. “There’s no place you can breathe fresh air in this joint. Not even down on the floor.”
Alex sipped his beer and waited as the two men sampled theirs. “So,” he said. “You remember anything about Joe Fogarty?”
“Why you nosing around in old Joe’s life?” Gus asked. “Man’s been dead over twenty years now.”
“Family’s got some questions,” Alex said. “His kids were real young and nobody told them much of anything.”
Both men nodded.
“I suppose you know I was the crew chief back then,” Gus said.
“Yep,” Alex replied. He’d spent yesterday and most of today tracking down somebody who would have worked with Joe. It had been pure luck that he’d stumbled across Gus Svoboda’s name. And even better luck that the man had been home when Alex had called about an hour ago. Gus had told him about Crawford Marling and, after some chitchat, agreed they would meet Alex at Rosie’s.
“I understand that Joe was taking a medical leave,” Alex said, revealing about the only piece of information he’d uncovered in his digging. “Do you know why?”
Gus shook his head. “Didn’t even know he was sick. Joe was big as an ox and strong, too. Sure didn’t look sick.”
“I don’t know,” Crawford said. “He talked to me a lot his last few days. Main thing I remember him saying was that he had to get his heart healed.”
“Had to get his heart healed?” Alex repeated. “He had heart trouble?”
“Might’ve,” Gus said.
Suddenly it all fit. Minnesota and all. Fiona’s dad had had a heart problem. He didn’t want to tell his kids about it, but was going to the Mayo Clinic up in southeastern Minnesota.
Hot damn. Three days of work, and one slain dragon.
“How about another beer, guys?” Alex asked.
“Hell, yes,” Gus replied. Crawford just nodded.
Alex went over to get the two refills, but excused himself from joining them. He could hardly wait to get home.
Home. He smiled at the thought. Funny how brave a man got after slaying a dragon.
Chapter Eleven
“I‘m sorry, Prissy.” Fiona glanced away from her cats to the clock on the microwave. Her visit to the swans had taken about forty-five minutes, then she’d fed the cats. It was now past five-thirty and Alex had said he would be home by five. Prissy rubbed against Fiona’s arm, calling her attention back. “But you don’t have to be so fussy. Look how nicely Elvis ate.”
The little gray female looked disdainfully at her chunky male partner, who was now cleaning up her dish.
Fiona looked at the clock again. Darn. Where was that man?
He couldn’t have gotten lost. South Bend and the surrounding area weren’t all that difficult to find your way around. There were a few rough places, but nothing that should cause Alex any problems.
“He’s probably working late, guys,” Fiona told her cats. “I bet something came up and he had to follow through on it. P.I.s don’t have regular hours, you know. Not like teachers or accountants. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Although he could have called. But that was something she was going to have to get accustomed to, she thought, as she dried the cats’ dishes. P.I.s didn’t spend much time in their offices, either. And Alex didn’t have a car phone.
There were a lot of things she was going to have to get accustomed to if she wanted to keep this relationship going. And she did. But what were Alex’s feelings? He’d said he was going to stay a few days and they’d pretty much reached that point. She had no idea how to ask him where they were headed. Maybe she was just afraid of the answer.
Suddenly Elvis jumped off the counter and ran to the front door. Fiona’s heart made a sudden jump for joy. Alex must be home. Elvis always ran to the door to welcome him.
On the other hand, it could be one of her neighbors or sisters. Elvis liked company.
The door swung open just as Fiona got there, framing a grinning Alex. Something must have gone well with his work.
She was in his arms before either said a word. She’d missed him and had let silly worries creep into her garden. They were foolish; the realization of her love for Alex didn’t change anything. Just because she no longer had Kate, it didn’t mean that she would lose Alex, too. She kissed him hungrily, then kissed him again. Not caring or needing to breathe, for his touch was nourishment enough.
She wasn’t used to the power of her love—the needs it awoke in her or the fears it left her prey to. She was going to have to be stronger. Or else be in Alex’s arms more often. It was only there that she truly felt alive, truly felt able to love. All her rule-abiding common sense seemed to have fled over the last few days.
“I was getting a little worried,” she said, as they paused for breath. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her again as if he could not get enough of her touch. His lips seemed to embrace her with sunshine, seemed to melt her silly reservations and fill all the dark corners of her heart
with flowers. It was riotous spring all around her, with warmth and laughter and the promise of something wonderful and magic just ahead.
His arms tightened around her for a long moment, then he let her go. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Should I close my eyes?”
His hands took hold of her shoulders, sliding down her arms as if he couldn’t bear not to have some contact. “I found your dragon, Fiona. And I stayed it.”
“You what?”
“The damn thing is stone-cold dead.”
His voice was overflowing with excitement, but she just shook her head. She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
“What’s your biggest dragon?” He looked at her intently for a moment. “Besides Kate’s health.”
As hard as she tried, she couldn’t get her brain to work. She felt like she was walking through a pond filled with molasses. Maybe it was because he was so close, because she could still feel the taste of his lips on hers.
What was he talking about? What dragons? She’d talked about some problems at work but those were normal things. Certainly not major. Kate was a major concern. And the other She looked into his eyes, a tight little bud of fear poking its head up. “My parents?”
“Bingo.” His smile stretched to the far corners of his face.
Her hands went cold and clammy as the fear opened up, trying to claim her as it usually did. “What did you find out?” She was almost afraid to ask, but surely Alex’s smile said it was safe to know. He wouldn’t be bringing her more pain.
“Your father wasn’t going to Milwaukee,” Alex said. “He was probably going to the Mayo Clinic.”
The bud started to shrivel in the brightness of Alex’s certainty. “He was what?” she asked.
“Apparently your father had a heart problem. He was on medical leave when he died.”
“I didn’t know that,” she gasped.
“Most parents probably wouldn’t have told little kids about that. Not unless they had to know for some reason.”
“He didn’t seem sick.”
“The auto accident occurred in southern Minnesota, not that far from Rochester. And that’s the home of the Mayo Clinic—one of the premier medical centers in the country.”
“I had no idea he wasn’t well. He always seemed so strong. So able to take care of us.”
She was stunned, numb almost. She had lived with her fears for so long—they’d been such a part of her—that she felt her whole world was capsizing. Alex must have sensed it for he took her gently in his arms, letting her lie against his chest as she fought to reach shore.
“All these years I thought maybe there was something wrong with me,” she said, only realizing she was crying from the quiver in her voice. “I was afraid I had done something wrong, or didn’t do something I was supposed to. Or just wasn’t lovable.”
“That’s crazy,” he said, his voice a caress in itself.
She felt his lips brush her hair and she just closed her eyes. “I used to tell myself I was wrong,” she whispered. “But I never really believed I was.”
“So you should be jumping around, not crying,” he said. “This was supposed to make you happy.”
“It does,” she assured him and tried to make her eyes stop watering. “I’m really happy.”
He just laughed softly and pulled her closer to him. “That’s what I thought.”
“It’s just that I had this sword hanging over my head,” she said. “And now I find out it’s made of chocolate, not steel. My whole life was spent being afraid, my whole self was built around fear. But I never had anything to be afraid of. What did I miss out on because of being afraid? Who could I have been if I hadn’t worried so?”
“You can’t go back and undo anything,” Alex said. “You have to look at it as freeing you up in the future.”
“I know, and it will.” She pulled back slightly to show him that her tears had stopped. She smiled up at him, loving him even more for what he’d given her. “And I know who I am—Horace Waldo’s great-great-granddaughter and Kate’s bone-marrow donor.”
He bent down to kiss the tip of her nose. “And one very nice lady besides.”
“I think your sisters are here,” Alex called out. “That looks like Cassie’s truck.”
He’d barely left the window when Elvis was at the door yowling his welcome. Fiona wiped her hands on a dish towel and came into the living room.
“Nervous?” he asked, taking her into his arms.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “Kind of.”
“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “You’re just setting the record straight. I’m sure your sisters will take it as you did. They’ll feel a lot better knowing what really happened.”
“I hope so,” Fiona murmured. She didn’t need him to remind her that there were other things she had yet to tell them. Maybe telling them about their parents would open the door for her to tell them about Kate.
“Hey, the truth shall set them free,” Alex was saying. “As descendants of Horace Waldo Fogarty, they wouldn’t want anything less.”
“Good old Horace,” Fiona replied. “Our whole-truthand-nothing-but-the-truth ancestor. May he be with us always.”
“There you go,” he said, hugging her hard.
Fiona snuggled into the safety of Alex’s arms. He was such a wonderful man. She couldn’t even begin to count the ways that he had brought sunshine into her life. He was caring, considerate and had such a fantastic sense of humor. And he knew what was important to her. She wasn’t an expert on love, but she sure thought she’d found a treasure.
“I don’t know if I ever thanked you for finding out the truth for us,” she said. “I was so stunned and then all I could think about was telling Cassie and Sam.”
“You didn’t need to say anything,” he told her. “I knew.”
He brushed her forehead with his lips. It was a gentle kiss, like a butterfly landing for a brief moment before skipping off again. Then he just held her. Firmly enough to let her feel safe, yet gently enough to let her know she was loved.
She turned her head to look at him, to will his mouth down to hers. And, as if their hearts could speak to the other without words, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Each kiss seemed to contain new pleasures, new wonders to behold. Yet each kiss also woke that slumbering fire in the core of her soul; that sweet tension that pulled her heart tighter and tighter until only his touch could release her. She wanted this moment to go on forever.
The banging on her door told them that the kiss had come close.
“Alex,” Fiona said, pushing against him.
“Tell them to go away,” he said. “Tell them they misunderstood. That they were supposed to come over tomorrow.”
“You’re awful,” she scolded, squirming out of his grasp and lunging for the door.
“Hi, guys,” she said, flinging her door open wide. “Come on in.”
But instead of coming in, her sisters stood out in the hallway staring at her. “Are we interrupting something?” Sam asked.
“They were probably exercising,” Cassie said. “Look how rosy Fiona’s cheeks are.”
Fiona could feel her face grow even warmer. “You two want me to sic Elvis on you?” she asked.
“Oh, now there’s a threat.”
“What’s he going to do—purr us to death?” Her sisters came into the apartment.
“What’s up, Fiona?” Cassie asked.
“Yeah, that was quite a summons,” Sam said.
Fiona waved them over to the sofa and waited until they were seated. Then she sat in one of the easy chairs with Alex perched on the arm. “I don’t exactly know where to begin,” she said. “It’s about our parents.”
“Mommy and Daddy Scott?” Cassie asked.
“No,” Fiona replied, shaking her head. This was all so complicated. “Our biological parents.”
“I hardly remember them,” Sam admitted.
“We never really talked about stuff when
they died,” Fiona said. “But Mom told me they were going to Milwaukee to look for a job for Daddy.” She paused to take a deep breath. “But, as we all know, they never made it. They were killed in an automobile accident.”
Fiona paused to take another deep breath, then let it out slowly. Alex took her hand and she realized how lucky she was to have him to lean on.
“I don’t know about anyone else,” she said, looking at her sisters, “but that accident always bothered me. If they were going to Milwaukee, how did they wind up in Minnesota?”
“I wondered that,” Cassie said slowly. “I just thought I had it wrong. Where they were going, I mean.”
“I remember the funeral,” Sam said, leaning forward slightly as if it would help her see into the past more clearly. “There was some really bossy woman there who acted like she knew everything.”
“Mrs. Cochran,” Cassie said.
“She kept talking about what pests we all were.” Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. She made me feel like it was somehow all my fault.”
“I didn’t think you guys had heard all that,” Fiona said.
“How could we not?” Cassie demanded. “The woman was broadcasting her views at the top of her lungs.”
Fiona nodded. “Well, the stuff she said bothered me for a long time. And Alex decided to do something about it and—” She paused to look at him. He squeezed her hand and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “And he found some answers for us.”
Nobody’s expression changed. The room had grown totally quiet as if everyone was holding their breath.
Fiona faced her sisters squarely. “It appears that Daddy had a heart problem. He and Mom weren’t going to Milwaukee at all, but were probably on their way to the Mayo Clinic.”
There was absolute silence until Cassie spoke. “Jeez.” She must have been holding her breath, for she let it out all in a rush. “How did you ever find that out?”
Alex shrugged. “Asked the right questions.”
“But who’d you ask them of?” Sam wanted to know.
On Mother's Day (Great Expectations #1) Page 18