Flamingo Diner

by Sherryl Woods

  Matt shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out and dragging her into his arms. He had a hunch this would not be the time to tell her how gorgeous she was when she was furious. Nor was the moment exactly right for kissing her senseless, though if she kept on yakking about that damn date book, he was going to have to do something dramatic to silence her. Cori was listening with avid fascination and he didn’t want her sharing the entire conversation with Jennifer. He needed to catch Jennifer off guard with what he knew.

  “Not much,” he finally said.

  “Not much!”

  “You’re shouting,” he said, his own voice deliberately quiet.

  “I am not shouting,” she said in a tone that could probably be heard two counties over. “This is shouting!” She upped the decibel level to one that could shatter glass.

  “You’re obviously upset. Why don’t we go somewhere and talk about this?” he suggested, latching on to her arm and steering her out of the office.

  Emma dug in her heels. “I don’t want to go somewhere. I want to know what you found out right here and right now.”

  “Nothing.”

  “I want to know every little…” Her voice trailed off and she stared at him in confusion. “Nothing?”

  “Nothing. Jennifer’s not in. She hasn’t been in. And I would just as soon not let Cori know anything more about the date book. She might feel it’s her duty to fill Jennifer in.”

  Emma flushed guiltily. “Oh.”

  He shook his head and looked into her eyes. “Emma, don’t you trust me?”

  “Of course, I do. Or I did, anyway, till I heard you’d come over here without me.”

  “I came without you because I have no idea what anything in that date book means. I saw no reason to get you all worked up until I had more to go on.”

  “But there was something in the date book that made you suspicious that Jennifer knows more than she’s admitted, wasn’t there?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?”

  He saw little point in trying to keep it from her. “Your dad’s name turned up a lot, once a week like clockwork, ever since the first of the year.”

  Emma turned pale. “What do you think that means?”

  “I don’t know what it means. That’s what I came here to find out. But Jennifer’s among the missing again.”

  “Missing?”

  He nodded. “Cori says it’s nothing out of the ordinary for her to take off without telling anyone. Cori will call me the second Jennifer turns up and we can see her together, if that will make you happy.”

  “I don’t know about happy,” she said. “But I do want to be there. For now I’ll settle for seeing that date book.”

  Thankfully Matt had anticipated that she might want to do exactly that if she found out about it. “Sorry. It’s evidence. I’ve got it locked up back at the station.”

  Emma regarded him suspiciously. “I thought this wasn’t an official case.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Then why did you lock up the date book? What else is in there that you don’t want me to see?”

  He debated spilling the rest of it now, but she was a little too riled up to be either understanding or forgiving. “Nothing,” he assured her. “While we’re waiting for a call from Cori, how about some lunch? I’m starved. I missed breakfast.”

  “I noticed,” she admitted.

  Matt could barely contain his smile. “Did you really? How fascinating. Maybe we should skip lunch and go to my place.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “Because of this morning?”

  “No, because of yesterday.”

  “We could talk about that, too,” he said. “It’s very important to communicate. In fact, communication is the backbone of a good relationship.”

  “We don’t have a relationship. We’re having sex.”

  “You say potato. I say po-tah-to. Same difference.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Matt grinned at her. “Bet I could make you change your mind.”

  “I’ll bet you could, too, but what would that prove?”

  “That there’s better living through chemistry?” he suggested.

  Emma fought a chuckle, but it escaped, anyway. “You drive me crazy, Matt Atkins.”

  He thought of all the things he wanted to do to her and with her. Driving her crazy was a start. He reached for her hand and held it as they left the Yeager Building. On the street, he met her gaze. “Good crazy or bad crazy?”

  Her expression turned thoughtful as she considered the question, probably from every angle possible.

  “A little of each, I suppose,” she said finally.

  “Well, there you go,” he said triumphantly. “It all balances out.”

  She laughed then and he swooped in and stole a kiss. When they were both hot and breathless, he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Just so you know, you drive me crazy, too. Always have.”

  Rosa looked up from the food order she was putting together and spotted Larry from her support group standing hesitantly in the doorway of the diner.

  “Are you closed?” he asked.

  “Pretty much,” she said. “But the coffee’s still hot.”

  “Mind if I come in, then?”

  “Of course not. How do you take your coffee?”

  “Black,” he said, walking over to the counter and sliding onto a stool. He looked around. “Nice place. I can’t believe I’ve never been in here before.”

  “Not everyone gets to this part of town. A lot of people do their shopping at the malls, not downtown,” she said. “What brings you by today?”

  “You,” he said, then looked uncomfortable. “I don’t mean that quite the way it sounds. It’s just that I’ve been so impressed the last couple of weeks with how well you’re adjusting already, when it’s been eight months for me and I’m still a wreck.”

  Rosa poured a cup of coffee for herself and went around the counter to join him. “Believe me, I am not adjusting well. I was a mess up until my friend Sylvia got me to that first meeting. Talking to all of you has helped.” She studied him intently. He was a nice-looking man in his mid-forties, she supposed from the hint of gray in his dark brown hair and the lines fanning out from his eyes. “The thing of it is, you suffered two losses, not just one. Not only did your wife kill herself, but you lost the woman you’d been hoping to marry after the divorce went through.”

  “That didn’t help, that’s for sure.” He looked into her eyes. “Some days, though, I feel as if I’m the one who should have died, you know what I mean? Being left behind to live with all the guilt is hard.”

  “But your wife’s death was not your fault,” she reminded him, realizing as she spoke so emphatically that it was much easier to see that when it was someone else. “You were honest with her and she couldn’t cope with that. It’s sad, but it wouldn’t have helped if you’d told her you’d stay. In the end, you both would have been miserable. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t believe in divorce unless all other options have failed, but sometimes it’s simply for the best.”

  Larry nodded, his eyes filled with misery. “I thought it was for us. We’d talked, we’d fought, we’d even tried counseling, but we still couldn’t get back to the way we’d been when we were first married.”

  “Maybe it’s wrong for anyone to expect that initial glow to last forever,” Rosa said.

  “We lost more than that glow. We had nothing left in common. We ate every meal in silence, then she went off to her sewing room and I read the newspapers and trade publications.”

  “No children?”

  He shook his head. “She couldn’t have them and she refused to consider adoption. I think that was the beginning of the end. I’d always wanted a big family.”

  “How sad for both of you,” Rosa said.

  “Eventually I started staying late at the office, having dinner out, just to avoid all that silence,” he sai
d. “Maybe if we’d fought about that, it would have shown me that she still cared about what I did, but she never said a word. When I asked for the divorce the first time, it wasn’t because I was involved with anyone else. I was stunned when she flatly refused. That’s when I sort of drifted into seeing other women, just to have some conversation. I’d missed that.” He regarded her with a sorrowful expression. “Then I met Elaine, and it all came back to me, what a real relationship was supposed to be. That’s when I really pressed for the divorce and my wife threatened to kill herself. I told Elaine and she said it was okay, that we could wait till she got used to the idea. In the meantime, I moved out.”

  “That was probably for the best,” Rosa told him. “Your wife needed to know it was really over and that you weren’t going to be blackmailed into staying.”

  “That’s what I thought at the time. It’s hard to believe that now, when my wife died because I left.”

  “She died because she didn’t want to take responsibility for her own happiness,” Rosa told him.

  A smile hovered at the corners of Larry’s mouth.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I see why everyone comes to you with their problems,” he said.

  Rosa laughed. “We can always see more clearly when it’s someone else’s problems. It’s our own that we can’t always resolve.”

  He met her gaze. “Would you mind if I come back from time to time to talk?”

  Rosa felt an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach. Anticipation? Dread? It was hard to tell, but she wasn’t ready to grapple with a relationship that caused either one. She fumbled for words that wouldn’t hurt his feelings. “I don’t know,” she began, but he cut her off.

  “Not like a date,” he said quickly. “Just to talk. I’d like to get to know you. I’ve stayed away from women since my wife died and Elaine left. Too complicated, I suppose, but I miss being around females.” He grinned. “I like the way your minds work.”

  “If it’s only my mind that interests you, by all means stop by whenever you’re in the neighborhood.” Suddenly Rosa thought of Helen. She might be the perfect match for Larry. So what if she was a little older? He could use a nice, steady woman with a quick wit and a generous heart. And it would please Rosa no end to play matchmaker.

  He drank the last of his coffee and reached for his wallet, but she shook her head. “This one’s on the house. Welcome to Flamingo Diner.”

  “Thanks, Rosa. I’ll see you at group, if not before.”

  Larry was almost to the door when it swung open, barely missing him, as Jeff came charging in. His hair was a mess, his clothes disheveled and he had the distinct wild-eyed look of someone completely out of control. Larry took a step back inside and regarded Rosa with concern.

  “Maybe I should have another cup of coffee, after all,” he said with a pointed look in Jeff’s direction.

  Though she was grateful for his instinctive desire to protect her, she shook her head. “No need. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She was too embarrassed to admit that this was her own son, not when he was staring at Larry with such a sullen expression. “I’m sure,” she said, and forced a smile.

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll be going.”

  Only after he’d gone did Rosa draw in a deep, steadying breath and turn to face her son. “Are you drunk?” she demanded, hands on hips.

  “No,” he said, though his voice was slurred.

  “Drugs, then,” she said, her heart aching. “Why are you here?”

  He faltered at the unmistakable chill in her voice. “Isn’t this the family business?” he finally asked, his tone scathing. “Such as it is.”

  “It belongs to those of us who work here and keep it running,” she corrected. “You’ve lost any claim to it the last few weeks. I thought you got that a while back, but evidently it’s slipped your mind again.”

  He blinked hard at her dismissal of his rights and for just an instant she could see a scared boy buried inside that sullen, angry facade. She refused to let herself feel sorry for him, though. Pity wasn’t what Jeff needed. He needed some straight talk and it was past time she gave it to him.

  “Sit,” she ordered. She poured him a cup of coffee and set it down in front of him. “Drink that.”

  “You’re not my boss.”

  “We could debate that, but since you haven’t been showing up for work, I suppose you’re technically right. However, I am your mother and you will listen to what I have to say. Now drink that coffee before I pour it over your head to sober you up.”

  He looked as stunned as if she’d slapped him, but he took a long swallow of his coffee before facing her again. “Mom, what’s happened to you?” he asked, sounding more hesitant.

  “I’ve emerged from the fog and taken a good, hard look at what’s going on right in front of my face, and I do not like it, Jeffrey Killian. I do not like it one bit.”

  “Mom—”

  “Hush! I’m talking now. If you want to stay involved with Marisol, I can’t stop you. If you want to hang around with a bunch of boys who are living in a drug-induced haze, I can’t stop you from doing that, either. But I am here to tell you than I can and will stop you from coming in here when you’re all doped up.”

  “How?” he asked, his expression belligerent.

  She kept her gaze steady and her tone even. “I’ll call Matt if you show up like this again.”

  “You wouldn’t,” he said, clearly shocked.

  “I would,” she said emphatically. “And I can keep your brother or your sister from loaning you money to buy drugs. I can keep you from stealing it from the register by changing the locks if I have to.” At his stunned expression, she nodded. “Yes, I’m aware that you’ve done that. I may have been living in a fog lately, but I do pay attention to our finances these days. I have to.”

  Her words obviously hit home. He looked shaken.

  “Good,” she said with satisfaction. “At least you’re not denying that you’ve stolen money from here.”

  “It’s my business, too,” he said defiantly.

  “Not unless you contribute something, which you haven’t for weeks now, at least not without one of us all but begging you to pitch in. It’s time to make a choice, Jeffrey. You’re either a part of this family or you’re going to destroy your life with drugs.” She kept herself from reaching for him. Instead, she regarded him steadily. “I love you, Jeff. So do Emma and Andy. If you need help to get off the drugs, we’ll get it for you, but we will not enable you to go on like this.”

  “I don’t need help from anybody,” he said defiantly. “I can quit anytime I want to.”

  Rosa knew better, but she merely nodded. “Then it’s time to make the choice. What is it?”

  “You expect me to decide now?”

  “Here and now,” she confirmed. “Because I’ve had it. I knew you were hurting and I thought this stage you’re going through would pass, but it hasn’t. It’s time to grow up.”

  “This from a woman who hid in her room for weeks,” he said scathingly.

  Rosa didn’t even flinch. “You’re right. I hid. I didn’t want to face the likelihood that your father had taken his own life.” The color drained from Jeff’s face, but before he could speak, she went on. “You suspect that’s what happened, as well as I do. It’s why you’ve been acting like this. You’re furious with him. So am I, but I’m here to tell you that this is no way to get even. The only person you’re hurting is yourself.”

  “Dad didn’t commit suicide,” he argued, but there was little conviction in his voice.

  “Yes, I believe he did, and the sooner we all face up to that the better. Your father is gone, but we’re not. Life goes on whether you want it to or not. I decided it was too precious to waste.”

  He regarded her curiously. “Does this have something to do with that guy who was leaving when I came in?” he asked as if he was ready to make something dirty out of it.


  “Absolutely not. He’s in that support group I told you about at Saint Luke’s, but that’s it. In fact, I was thinking I might introduce him to Helen.”

  Her response clearly took the wind out of his sails. He stood up, then, swaying slightly. “I gotta go.”

  Rosa felt thoroughly defeated. “Do what you have to do.”

  He started away, then came back and gave her a fierce hug. “I love you, Mom.”

  Tears brimming over in her eyes, she hugged him back. “I love you, too.” Only after he was too far away to hear did she whisper, “No matter what.”

  19

  Matt took the first chance he had to detour over to Palm Drive to check out the junk shop Cori had told him about. He’d passed the store a thousand times without ever noticing it, probably because the owner hadn’t spent a nickel on improvements in the last forty years. It stood out like a sore thumb, though. Every other shop on the block had windows that glistened and new awnings.

  The junk shop’s front window was coated with a dingy layer of grime. The once-gold lettering had worn away to make the store’s name all but illegible. Not that it had been an inspired name to begin with. It looked like it might have been Mullins Junk, though the M was virtually gone and only part of the J and K remained of the second word.

  He thought at first the store wasn’t open, but then he spotted a dim light at the back and tried the door. It swung open on rusty, creaking hinges. Great place for a Halloween party, he thought wryly as he called out for Joshua Mullins.

  “In the back,” replied a voice that sounded every bit as creaky as the door.

  Matt made his way through cluttered aisles that barely allowed room enough for him to pass. Brass headboards were piled against one wall. Old oak washstands and dressers were crammed against each other at odd angles. Cheap metal shelving on another wall held an assortment of items that ranged from dusty bottles in every color of the rainbow to china teacups piled atop one another to a precarious height. If there were treasures buried in here, it would be all but impossible to discern them in the poor lighting and even more daunting clutter.

  Matt vaguely recalled Joshua Mullins from years ago. He’d been a crotchety old man then. He must be a million years old by now. One glimpse of the bent figure maneuvering through the back room on a walker seemed to prove his guess.