Starting Over (Treading Water Trilogy)

Home > Other > Starting Over (Treading Water Trilogy) > Page 27
Starting Over (Treading Water Trilogy) Page 27

by Force, Marie


  She waved a hand in front of her face. “You stink.”

  He laughed and lunged at her.

  She squealed, darting out of his reach.

  Daphne was on the phone, so he blew her a kiss on the way to the shower.

  Long after he scrubbed off the day’s filth, he stood under the heat of the shower to work out the kinks in his back and shoulders. The bathroom door opened and then closed. He pulled the curtain aside and smiled at Daphne. “What are you doing in here?”

  She reached for him. “Just saying a proper hello,” she said, kissing him senseless. “Bad day?”

  “Hideous until right now. Want to join me?”

  Her eyes traveled over him. “Mmm, more than anything, but…” She gestured to indicate Mike in the next room.

  “I know.” He leaned in for one more kiss. “Are you guys ready to go?”

  “Whenever you are.”

  “I’ll be quick. Alan said to come anytime after six.”

  She bit her bottom lip, her face twisting with worry.

  “What’s the matter, hon?”

  “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing, Brandon? What if they manage to get her away from us? What’ll we do then?”

  He turned off the water, took the towel she handed him, and wrapped it around his waist. “We have to do this so we can live without threats and worries hanging over our heads. We have to do this for Mike.”

  Reassured, she nodded and rested her face against his damp chest hair. “You’re right.”

  He hugged her tightly. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Alan’s contemporary house in Dennis faced Cape Cod Bay. After dinner, he ushered Brandon and Daphne into his study while his wife Janice got dessert for Mike and their daughters, Haley and Kendall.

  “I love this house, Alan,” Brandon said with profound respect for the life his friend had built after hitting rock bottom as an alcoholic. “And you’ve got such a beautiful family.”

  “Thank you. Now that you know where we are, you’ll have to come out to the beach this summer.”

  “We’d love to.” Brandon reached for Daphne’s hand as they sat together on a sofa. Tuning into the nervous tension radiating from her, he squeezed her hand.

  Alan sat across from them, attuned to Daphne’s sudden nervousness. “I want to help you, Daphne. I hope you can trust me and let me help you.”

  With a glance at Brandon, she nodded. “Thank you—both of you. I can’t tell you what it means to me to have your help.”

  Alan reached for a legal-size yellow pad and a pen. “Tell me the whole story—names, dates, places. Don’t leave anything out, even if you think it’s trivial, okay?”

  Daphne’s story began on the day she met Randy and ended with the aftermath of his suicide, the conversation she overheard his mother having with Mike, and their five years on the run.

  “Was Randy abused by his parents?” Alan asked.

  “Not physically—at least not that I know of. They abused him in every other possible way by forcing him to abandon his art and go to law school. He hated that and the years he spent working in his father’s firm. It was all for show, so they could say their son was successful. A starving artist wasn’t conducive to his father’s political career. He embarrassed them, and they made sure he knew it. I think his spirit died long before he took his life.” Daphne’s eyes welled with tears. “Despite the way they’d treated him, though, his suicide was a terrible shock to them—to all of us. But rather than mourn their son the way normal people would, they went into cover-up mode. They told the world he’d died in a car accident.

  “Do you know how many people in positions of authority have to be involved to kill off a high-profile person in an accident that didn’t happen? I saw first-hand that week after he died how far-reaching their power was. Between that and what his mother said to Mike, I knew I had to get her out of there or she’d be sucked into their world the way Randy had been. He was gentle and sweet, certainly no match for them. I didn’t know then how strong Mike would turn out to be. I’m fairly certain now that she could’ve fought them better than her father did, but I couldn’t take that chance with a one-year-old whose personality had only begun to emerge.”

  Brandon, who was hearing some of this for the first time, struggled to stay calm.

  Alan took copious notes about the Monroe’s efforts to find her. “Why do you suppose they haven’t made any attempt to grab her?”

  “They did. Once.”

  Brandon gasped. “When?”

  “The last time they found us, in Raleigh, North Carolina. I’d been asking myself that same question, and I’d decided they didn’t want the bother of a baby. She was almost four when they made their move.”

  “What happened in Raleigh?” Alan asked.

  “I enrolled her in a preschool two mornings a week so she could be with other kids for a few hours. One of Monroe’s guys went to the school and tried to sign her out, saying he was her grandfather. He even had an ID with the last name we were using at the time. They refused him because no one but me was authorized to pick her up.”

  “That seems kind of bush league for someone like Monroe,” Alan said.

  “It was his only chance to get at her when she wasn’t with me. That told me how desperate they were. We left Raleigh that day, and after zigzagging the East Coast for a few weeks, we ended up here.”

  Brandon sat back against the sofa and exhaled a long deep breath.

  Daphne laced her fingers through his, offering comfort as much as taking it.

  Satisfied he had all the facts, Alan set the notebook aside and put down his pen. “I want to get an investigator to do some digging around. If Monroe’s got dirty laundry, it’ll give us some leverage if it comes to that.”

  “Let’s do it,” Brandon said.

  “It’ll cost you,” Alan warned.

  “How much?” Daphne asked.

  “Depends on how long it takes, but it could be as much as ten or fifteen grand.”

  Daphne gasped.

  “I know a guy who specializes in this kind of thing,” Alan added. “He’s discreet but thorough. If there’s something to find, he will.”

  “Do it,” Brandon said without hesitation. “Have him bill me. What else can we do?”

  “I have a friend from law school who practices in Nebraska. I’ll draft a letter to feel them out and have him send it for me so we won’t blow your cover until we know more about what they’re after.”

  “I know what they’re after—they want full custody,” Daphne said.

  “They won’t get that, Daphne. I talked to my colleague, the family court judge, and he’ll hear your case in his courtroom if it comes to that. He makes no promises to either side, but he’s not for sale at any price. I can guarantee you that. The best thing we can do if it goes to court is keep it on our turf, which puts Monroe at a significant disadvantage. He may have cronies in California, but I doubt he has any here.”

  “How do you see this resolving itself, Alan?” Brandon asked.

  “If it goes to court, you’ll probably have to let them see Mike. Since you’ll be hard pressed to prove what they’ve done to you for the last five years, the court would be sympathetic to grandparents who’ve lost their only child and want a relationship with their only grandchild.”

  Daphne panicked. “I can’t let them near her. They’ll take her, and I’ll never see her again. I know how they operate.”

  “When we reach the negotiation stage, we’ll offer supervised visitation only. A social worker would have to accompany Mike at all times.”

  “What if they push for unsupervised visitation?” Brandon asked, his arm wrapped tightly around Daphne.

  “We’ll fight it with everything we have.” Alan gestured toward the pages of notes he’d taken. “Our ace in this situation is that a seasoned politician like Monroe won’t want the publicity of an ugly, protracted custody battle, during which his former daughter-in-law will testify that he drove his on
ly child to suicide and then covered it up. The media would go crazy, and he doesn’t need that, especially right now. Have you heard the latest rumblings?”

  Daphne shook her head. “No, what?”

  “He’s on the short list to be Tucker’s vice president.” Alan referred to the Democratic Party’s presumptive presidential nominee. “With the convention just over two months away, the last thing he needs is a boatload of negative publicity. This could be the perfect time to work something out with them.”

  Full of optimism and hope, Brandon and Daphne exchanged glances.

  “Let’s get that letter written,” she said with a smile.

  Later that night, long after they tucked Mike in, Brandon held Daphne close to him in what had become their bed. They’d made love with complete abandon, buoyed by the meeting with Alan and filled with hope for a future without the worry and fear she had carried with her for five long years.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  “That I can’t believe how, even after nearly a week of long, hot nights with you, I want you more now than I did the first time.”

  “I know. My itch for you seems to be getting worse rather than better.”

  He smiled. “I hope it’s never fully scratched and you keep coming back for more.”

  She rewarded him with a deep, wet kiss that guaranteed she’d be back for more.

  He reluctantly tore himself away from her. “Listen, before you get me all revved up again, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  “Something bad?”

  “No, baby, nothing bad,” he said, touched by her concern. “After we work this thing out with Mike, I don’t want to see that fearful look on your beautiful face ever again. Do you hear me?”

  She smiled and nodded.

  “That’s better,” he said, but her smile faded. “What now? Why is the worried face back?”

  “It’s just…”

  “What, hon?”

  “I hate that this is going to cost so much—”

  He silenced her with a kiss. “I don’t want to hear another word about that. Not one word. She’s my little girl now, too, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Or you. I don’t want you to give it another thought.” He sighed when she closed her eyes against a rush of emotion. “No tears.”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Lucky, lucky me.”

  “No, lucky me.” She caressed his face and gazed into his eyes. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “I’ve been doing some thinking about my work situation.” He’d already told her about his mixed feelings about his career at O’Malley & Sons. “This week has really shown me I need a change.”

  “Spending a week up to your eyeballs in crap would make anyone take stock,” she joked for the hundredth time since Declan called in a panic on Monday morning, forcing them to cut short their stay at the Rock Harbor Inn.

  “While I’m sure you have a few more shit jokes in your inventory, I’m actually trying to be serious here.”

  She smothered her grin and kissed him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll try to behave.”

  “I’m thinking about going into the restoration business. Bringing this place back to life has been the most interesting thing I’ve done in years.” He had only the building’s exterior and Daphne’s apartment left to renovate. They’d be moving to his house while he did the work in her apartment. If everything went according to his plan, they wouldn’t be coming back to the apartment. “Aidan has built a booming business in Vermont refurbishing old houses, and I think there’s a market for it here, too.”

  “What would it entail?”

  “I’m hoping I can do it under the auspices of O’Malley & Sons, but if they’re not into it, I’ll leave the company. If that happens, things would be tight for a while until I get established. But over time we should be okay.”

  “I’m used to tight, so don’t worry about me. If we resolve this situation with the Monroes, I can renew my CPA license and make a lot more money than I do now.”

  “I don’t want you to have to work at all if you’d rather be at home with Mike and any other little O’Malleys who might come along.”

  Her eyes went liquid with love and hope. “I’ll probably always want to do something.” She raised herself up to kiss him. “But you’re so sweet to want to give me choices.”

  “I want to give you everything. That’s my only hesitation with making this change. I make damned good money now—well over a hundred and fifty a year. This doesn’t seem like a good time to be giving that up.”

  “You have to do what fulfills you, Brandon. The rest will fall into place. I can’t imagine us being any happier than we are right now in this tiny apartment. We don’t need anything else.”

  “We’re going to have it all, even if I have to work twenty hours a day to get it.”

  She kissed her way from his chest to his belly. “If you work twenty hours a day, you won’t have time for this.”

  He sighed when she stroked him to arousal. “Baby, I’ll always have time for that.”

  Chapter 30, Day 80

  The ceiling fan mesmerized Colin as it moved the light breeze drifting in through the open French doors. From their bed, they had a perfect view of the sugar-white sand on Grand Cayman’s famous Seven Mile Beach and the azure Caribbean in the distance.

  “What will we do for a honeymoon after this?”

  Meredith giggled. “Still taking it slow, are we?”

  “A turtle’s pace,” he said with a smile.

  “No more turtle jokes. I can’t believe I let you trick me into eating turtle.”

  “You can’t come to the Caymans and not try the turtle.”

  “I would’ve survived without it.”

  “I wouldn’t have survived without you.” He traced a finger along the tan line above her milky white breasts. “I would’ve missed you for the rest of my life.”

  “Colin…”

  Reaching under the pillow and then for her hand, he said, “Marry me.” He slid a square-cut diamond ring onto her finger.

  “Oh! Colin, but when…” she sputtered. “You’ve been with me every minute for almost a week!”

  “Except for half an hour when we were shopping in Georgetown,” he reminded her.

  “You said you had to call work.”

  “I lied.”

  Holding up her hand for a better look at the extraordinary ring, tears leaked from her eyes.

  “I’m sorry I lied.” He wiped away her tears. “I’ll never do it again.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she cried, throwing her arms around him.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes,” she said, choking on a sob. “That’s a yes.”

  On the flight from Miami to Boston the next day, Colin took her hand to admire the way the ring sparkled on her finger. His ring. His fiancée. He still wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

  “It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I was hoping you weren’t one of those girls who always dreamed of picking out her own ring.”

  “I didn’t have dreams. I never saw any of this happening to me.”

  “Well, start dreaming because it’s become my sole purpose in life to make you happy.”

  She pressed her lips to his neck, whispering, “You’re doing a very good job so far.”

  “Meredith, honey, there’s something I want you to do for me and for us, but mostly for you.”

  Her eyebrows knit with curiosity. “What is it?”

  “I want you to see Kevin.” He stopped her protest with a finger to her lips. “I want you to see him and hear him out so you can put it behind you once and for all. I’d be right there with you.”

  “I don’t know, Colin. Just the thought of it makes me sick.”

  “So let’s do it and get it over with. I don’t want you worried all the time about running into him somewhere. Let�
�s do it on your terms.”

  “You’d really go with me?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “I’m afraid…”

  “Of what, sweetheart?”

  “That it’ll cause a setback. I feel so good now, and it took me such a long time to get here.”

  “I wish I’d met you years ago.” He hated the idea of all the time she’d spent alone and afraid.

 

‹ Prev