Olivia put her hand on the table and leaned forward. “No. I didn’t mean his work. I want a sense of his day-to-day life, his friendships. Did he read any books, what did he do when off duty, did he still like warm Dr Pepper, was he still playing his guitar? That sort of thing.”
Her eyes took on the look of remembrance when she added, “You know, Ana and I gave him a notebook computer for his last birthday, hoping he’d be able to e-mail us.” She smiled absently. “He didn’t even have time to take it out of the box. It came home unopened.”
Luke sat silent for a moment before he answered. My God, hadn’t Calvin kept in touch at all? As for his day-to-day activities, Luke could share those without a problem, but it was his nighttime exploits that needed censoring.
He said, “He had a warm Dr Pepper with breakfast every day—even when we were in a place with refrigeration and ice available.” He made a look of distaste. Dr Pepper tasted like medicine to Luke, and he viewed warm Dr Pepper as a device of self-torture.
The look on Analise’s face said she agreed.
“His guitar . . .” Luke paused. Mostly Calvin used the guitar to seduce women. He had a whole Adam Sandler-ish routine he unleashed in bars—got the ladies loosened right up. “He didn’t really have much time for it.
“Like I said,” he added quickly, “we didn’t have a lot of down time.”
Olivia nodded, a ghost of a reminiscent smile on her face.
Analise shifted in her chair. The stern set of her lips reminded Luke of his father’s when he was disappointed in Luke’s childhood behavior.
“Of course,” Luke went on, trying to divert the conversation away from Calvin’s negligence in family communications, “Calvin was always the practical joker. We counted on him to counterbalance the intensity of the job—to liven up those long boring stretches between activity. One time he actually met a foreign prince with “BillyBob” teeth and an eye patch. Sat through an entire dinner and never once broke.” As Luke told the story, he realized that Calvin used his humor as a curtain to hide behind. By diverting the attention to the frivolous, he never had to deal with the deeper emotional issues.
“That’s our Calvin,” Olivia said with a loving smile. “Ana, tell Luke about how you two met.”
Analise bit her lower lip for a moment. Her eyes closed briefly. Obviously, the memory was tainted with sadness now that she was a widow.
“I was at a dinner at the governor’s mansion.” She directed her gaze to Luke. “Back in Jackson, I was eyebrow-deep in politics. Not a player, just window dressing.” She fiddled with her spoon. “Calvin was a special guest, he’d just gotten everyone’s attention by whipping a tablecloth out from under a table full of crystal. The next thing I knew, I was acting as his ‘beautiful assistant’ as he coerced the most stodgy woman in all of Jackson into playing along with a sleight of hand that I never did figure out how he accomplished. He was such a breath of fresh air, so lively and irreverent—”
“And handsome,” Olivia interjected.
“Oh, yes, he was handsome.” She gave her mother-in-law a brilliant smile and patted her hand. “He had me mesmerized from that moment on. We were married three weeks later.”
Luke thought “mesmerized” was an odd word to use when describing meeting the love of your life. But what did he know about women’s feelings? He said, “Love at first sight. Just like the movies.”
Analise sighed and played with the condensation on her water glass. “I guess you could say that. Only without the ‘happily ever after.’” She stood abruptly. “I’m going to check on Cole.”
Luke stood as she left the room. When he sat back down, Olivia was looking at him curiously.
After a moment she said, “The separation was hard for Ana.”
Luke’s mouth was dry. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”
Olivia blew through tight lips and waved a hand in the air. “It wasn’t you. Life sometimes deals us a hand we didn’t expect. It just takes some getting used to. Ana’s still adjusting.” She chuckled quietly. “I suppose that’s what life is, one big adjustment.”
“I guess you’re right.”
When Analise returned, she’d regained her composure. “He’s still sleeping. Probably will until tomorrow.” She sat back down across from Luke, but didn’t pick up her fork to finish her meal.
Luke took the cue and placed his napkin beside his plate. “That was a fine meal. I really do need to get going.”
Analise didn’t seem to notice the compliment. She jumped up and began to clear the table.
“Thank you both for dinner.” He stood. “I’ll help clean up.”
Olivia said, “That’d be nice.” At the same moment Analise said, “No!”
The two women stared at each other for a long moment. Then Olivia said, “Yes. I suppose we’ve taken up enough of your time. We really do appreciate your visit.”
Some of the tension left Analise’s shoulders when she saw Olivia wasn’t going to force him to stay longer.
“The meal was great,” Luke said for the thousandth time. That urge to kick him was back. But, she reminded herself, he was just being polite. They had put the poor guy through the wringer today, and he’d behaved admirably in the situation.
He carried a load of dirty dishes with him as they returned to the kitchen. After setting them on the counter, he moved to the back door—leaving like family, not company. Analise wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Olivia said, “I guess we’ll see you in the morning, then.”
Analise felt like they were holding his clothes hostage just to get him to return.
“Good night,” he said. “And thanks again for the meal.”
“Luke,” Olivia called to him as he put his hand on the doorknob.
He stopped.
“I really do appreciate you coming. It’s been a greater help than you know.”
Seriousness again claimed his face as he looked back at them. He paused before he opened the door, looking like he was going to say something. Then he just tipped his head and walked out into the night.
Olivia sighed loudly. “That boy is eating himself alive with guilt.”
Analise started to rinse the dishes. “Cole?”
“Oh, no. Not Cole. He’s too sick at the moment to think about anything but himself. Luke. And I’m not sure he’s going to find his way around it.”
“What do you mean?”
Olivia stood thoughtfully for a second, then said, “I’m going to go put his clothes in the dryer, then check on Cole.”
“What are you going to do about him?” Analise worried that harsh punishment and gruff words might just drive Cole further away. From the look on his face when Dave brought him to the door, she knew he was sorry for his misbehavior.
“I’m going to make damn sure he understands that lying to me is the very worst thing he could possibly do. The drinking was stupid and dangerous, but the lying . . . Something deeper than experimentation is at the root of this. I’m going to find out exactly what’s going on.”
She left the room and Analise had no better idea what Cole’s punishment was going be than she did five minutes ago. But the look in Olivia’s eye warned her not to push right now.
Opening the back door, she called for Rufus. She didn’t wait; the dog always took his own sweet time in coming. By the time she had his dish filled she heard a soft chuffing at the door.
“Come on in, big boy.”
Rufus paused as he passed her, giving her a long look with those droopy brown eyes. She’d swear she saw accusation there. Lying was the worst affront Olivia could imagine—and Analise had been guilty of that crime for years. Maybe Rufus knew, maybe he could sense what was truly in her heart.
And maybe he’s just a dog that happened to look up at you, you idiot. She tried to tone down her imagination, and went back to work on the dishes.
After his dinner, Rufus dozed in front of the stove, where Analise tripped over him every time she put a dish away. For s
ome reason, he was staying uncommonly close this evening.
She hung up the dish towel and realized she still felt too restless to watch TV or read. Olivia had disappeared upstairs after putting the clothes in the dryer and not returned.
“Come on, Rufus. We’re going for a little walk.”
He opened one skeptical eye and blew out a long huffing breath. Unlike most dogs, the phrase “go for a walk” did not ignite rapture and joy in Rufus’s heart. He didn’t jump up and prance impatiently at the door while she got her jacket. He didn’t whine with eagerness.
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore her.
“Really, Rufus. We’re going.” She opened the door.
Rufus sighed loudly, then lumbered to his feet.
“Good boy.”
Tilting his head slightly, he gave her a grudging half-wag of the tail and went out the door.
Olivia had chosen not to install outdoor lighting around the property, worrying over disturbing the natural habitat more than necessary. So when Analise started down the stone lane, she shuffled along in a state of temporary blindness until her eyes adjusted. Even after, she couldn’t make out anything farther away than Rufus’s tail.
She remembered the first summer she’d been here, how unsettling the complete darkness had been. Growing up in “civilization,” there had always been some form of ambient light. Analise hadn’t known what true darkness was until she moved to Magnolia Mile.
Here, you could step away from the ring of light that spilled from the windows of the house and be swallowed completely in darkness. Trees, when leafed out, blocked most of the moonlight even during a full moon. That’s one reason she always took Rufus—his nighttime vision was much better than hers, plus he had that bloodhound nose to work with. It wasn’t that she feared criminals, not here in Grover. But the wildlife around here was really . . . wild.
They were about half way down the lane to the paved road when Rufus stopped dead in his tracks so quickly that Analise ran into the back of him. He didn’t seem to notice her bumping him, but kept his eye on a thick stand of shrubbery off to their right. He growled low and deep in his throat.
“What is it, boy?” she whispered. “Raccoon?”
A rustling much too large to be caused by a lone raccoon, or even a whole family of them, came from the bushes.
Rufus growled louder and pressed himself against her leg. It was obvious he really wanted to tear into the bushes and flush out whatever was hiding there, but she knew from experience he would not leave her alone.
Analise stood perfectly still, listening. Her heart sped up slightly, even as she assured herself there wasn’t anything wandering these woods that would cause her harm.
Suddenly whatever it was broke and ran in the opposite direction, crashing like a cow through the underbrush.
Rufus jumped from side to side, baying wildly. He took about three hesitant steps toward the sound, then let loose with his biggest, deepest bark.
“Okay, buddy, I think you’ve taught that deer a lesson.” It had to have been a deer.
He walked backward toward her, still sniffing the air and making whining noises. Analise couldn’t hear anything moving in the brush.
“It’s gone. Let’s go.” She patted her leg and began walking toward the road.
After a second’s hesitation, Rufus trotted to catch up. His ears remained on alert, his nose snuffing loud enough that Analise said, “You’re making such a racket with that snout of yours, we couldn’t hear if a slavering, growling bear was following us.”
He ignored her and kept his vigilant watch.
When they reached the end of the lane, Analise turned to the right, toward the curvy part of the road that led to the creek. Just as they rounded the first ninety-degree turn, she saw lights come on; a vehicle was parked down the road. The brake lights flared, then the reverse light flashed before the driver put the car in drive. It took off so quickly that she heard gravel pinging against the undercarriage.
Rufus howled.
“Shush!” She put a hand on the dog and felt his hackles were up. “It was just somebody fishing down at the creek.” Or could it have been someone nosing around in the woods, sounding like a herd of deer? She shook off the idea and tried to slow her breathing.
They stood there for a moment longer, Rufus prancing and chuffing, Analise listening and peering into the darkness with her heart still beating a little too fast. “Well, I think that’s enough of a walk for tonight.” She turned around. “Let’s get some exercise and jog back home.” She took off and Rufus fell in beside her.
When they reached the lane to the house, she slowed to a walk. This is ridiculous; I can’t even let the dog know I’m scared. She realized she’d been living behind a façade of self-sufficient stoicism for so long, she didn’t even know how to let it down when she was alone with Rufus. She’d thought it would be easier, that she wouldn’t have so many secrets to hide, now that Calvin was gone.
But she was wrong.
Chapter 5
It was a good forty-minute drive back to the motel where Luke had spent the previous night. Grover had no motel, so he’d kept the room, unsure how much driving he’d feel like doing once he’d been to see Abbott’s family. Now he was glad he’d held on to it, even though it might have made things easier if he’d had his stuff all packed in the car. Then he would have had a change of clothes and wouldn’t have to go back to Magnolia Mile again tomorrow.
His intentions had been to pay respects, then head home, get his own life back in order and decide what to do about his future. However, the sense of closure he’d been looking for still eluded him. As he drove back toward the motel, he realized every step seemed to be taking him in quite the opposite direction. He felt the burden of Abbott’s death more acutely now than he had yesterday.
Again he asked himself, what had he hoped to gain by coming here? Absolution?
He now knew there would be no absolution. But he also knew he could not have gone on with his life without making this trip. Perhaps if he’d found what he’d expected in Grover, a grieving mother who exhibited only anger and bitterness, it would have been easier to walk away. Maybe that’s what he wanted, someone to punish him with hateful words and biting rejection.
Instead, he’d found warmth and acceptance—and a beautiful young widow he hadn’t known existed. A woman who sparkled with life, who fired a fierce sense of protectiveness that he hadn’t felt in years, not since he and his sisters were young.
Heartburn built just below his breastbone. Absently, he rubbed his chest. His fingers tingled as they ran over Calvin’s sweatshirt. He wondered, when was the last time Calvin had worn these clothes? When was the last time the man had held his wife? A woman like Analise deserved to be held and sheltered. And damn Calvin for being such an unfaithful ass. If Analise had been Luke’s wife . . .
The thought jarred him. He had no business judging Calvin’s personal life, no business at all.
For the next few miles, Luke tried to concentrate on other things. He wondered if he would still feel so out of kilter once he reached Glens Crossing in a couple of days. How would his dad’s bar look, now that he’d been forced to remodel after lightning struck during a storm a while back? Did his old friend Peter’s summerhouse on the lake still look the same? Was the floating island they used to race to still anchored off the pier? Would Glens Crossing be more timely than Grover and have all of its holiday decorations down and stored away in the courthouse attic?
That thought brought him back to yesterday morning, when the resemblance between his own childhood home and Calvin’s had struck him like a fist in the chest. Calvin had ridden his bicycle on those quiet streets, had gone to that high school, made touchdowns on that football field, had first gotten laid when he was a freshman by a senior girl named Candy in the parking lot behind the Dixie Drive-in.
Funny, Luke thought, the only details Calvin had shared about his life were childhood memories nearly interchangeable with those of
any small-town kid mixed with the usual bawdy locker-room stories. What Luke wouldn’t give to be able to rewind the clock and ask the questions that hadn’t seemed important until he met Analise and Olivia.
He pulled into the lot of the Stargazer Motel. As there was only one other car in the lot, he was able to park right in front of room number thirteen. When he’d asked for the room farthest from the office, he’d drawn a suspicious look from the clerk, a small woman who appeared to be in her sixties. When she called her husband from the back office, Luke had been obliged to explain that he had nightmares and didn’t want to disturb the owners, whose residence was attached to the office. The woman had then tipped her head sympathetically and handed him the key to room thirteen.
Now, as he glanced at the bold black number spotlighted by the headlight beams on the door, his palms began to sweat and a clamminess crept over him. Since “the incident,” as his superior officer called it, Luke dreaded the coming of night. In deepest night, silence allowed the sounds to creep forward from his memory; unguarded regret amplified the chaos of that last mission until he awakened with sweat on his forehead and a scream stuck in his throat.
Now he had even more fuel for his nightmares, a family torn apart, wounded and set adrift by his actions.
Thirteen was well suited to the torment that awaited him when he laid his head on the pillow behind that door. He shut off the engine and went inside with heavy footsteps.
When Cole opened his eyes, his room was dark. He squinted at the bedside clock. At first the red numbers were too blurry to read, then they came into better focus. It was only eleven, not the middle of the night as he’d expected. Eleven. Someone was sure to still be up.
He turned onto his side, feeling as if his bed were a swinging hammock. He was queasy and his tongue felt like it was wrapped in a dirty gym sock. Man, was he thirsty.
He didn’t dare open his bedroom door to go after a glass of water. If he opened his door, Mom would hear with those bat ears of hers. She’d be all over him within a minute, and this time he wouldn’t be able to escape by playing possum. She’d start ragging him, asking questions that he didn’t want to think about, let alone answer. Then she’d look at him with disappointment. That was the worst, when she stopped talking and just sat there and looked at him.
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