Throwing open her closet, she tugged off the nightgown she’d hoped to wear again on her wedding night. She’d been so excited dashing off to Olivetti’s dress shop yesterday to buy it while Evelyn had once again stayed with the babies. The pink floral was a radical departure from her usual black or elegant ivory. It’d made her feel as pretty on the outside as thinking about being Noah’s wife had made her feel on the inside.
Swallowing back still more tears, she savagely reached for one of her standard severe black dresses.
“Cass,” Noah said. “Look, I know right about now you must be hating me, and I don’t blame you. But—”
“Stop. Please don’t feel you have to bother with explanations.” Especially since only a few minutes earlier, I felt like I knew you better than myself. “Kelsey—not to mention Tiffany, and all of the other members of the support group already warned me you weren’t the marrying type. I was just too naive to listen.” Too sure that what you and I shared was so special that for me, you’d break your long-standing rule.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Me, too.
“THANK YOU,” Cassie said to Noah two hours later, hair arranged in a severe French twist, eyes shaded from the brutal sun by dark designer sunglasses, confidence boosted by full makeup, black silk stockings, black dress and black patent pumps.
The babies were already fastened in their safety seats in the long black limo she’d paid extra to have rushed from Fayetteville. Star-for-a-Day Limo Service had also agreed to send someone to transport her car later that afternoon. But looking at it now, knowing it would only remind her of her time spent with Noah, she reached into her purse for the keys.
“Here,” she said, handing them to Noah.
“Right. Guess the guy coming to pick her up is gonna need these.”
Swallowing back tears, knowing herself unable to speak, she shook her head.
“What? You want me to drive it down to Little Rock?”
“No. Give it to Jimmy.”
“For him to drive?”
Again, all she could do was shake her head.
“You’re not making sense.”
“Give the car to Jimmy—for keeps.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re giving a forty-thousand dollar ride to Jimmy?”
She nodded. It’d be worth a million dollars to her to be rid of the painful reminder of the beautiful time they’d shared.
“Whatever,” he said, lips pressed tight, muscle popping in his jaw while he pocketed the keys. “Give me a call, though, if you reconsider.”
“I won’t. Please tell him I’ll have my attorney sign over the title.”
He nodded, and with the limo’s smooth engine purring behind them, tainting the air with the slight smell of exhaust, they both worked hard to look anywhere but at each other.
Obert Undem stood in his driveway, fiddling with his mower.
Mrs. Kleghorn was watering her marigolds.
Mr. and Mrs. Dickenson were out walking Artie.
As busy as they all seemed to be, they still had plenty of time left for shooting curious glances her and Noah’s way.
Cassie bit her lower lip to keep from crying.
It was hard enough leaving Noah, but she was also leaving Brenda and her delicious burgers. Ernie and his snakes. Evelyn and Kelsey and—aw, who was she kidding? She’d grown to love this whole kooky town as much as this man.
As the sun beat mercilessly on her all-black ensemble, Cassie cursed the heavens for not postponing the previous afternoon’s cooling rain until today.
But then, please. Nothing else in her life was going right. Why should the weather?
“I wish you would reconsider this whole limo bit,”
Noah finally said. “At least stay the night. I’ll drive you home in the morning.”
She shook her head, held out her hand for him to shake.
“Whatever,” he said, clasping her hand, only not shaking it, but kissing it. “You have to know I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know.” But the knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Okay, then,” he said, muscle still popping in his jaw. “Guess this is it then. Have a safe trip.”
Because it would have hurt too bad to carry on this sham of a conversation for even one minute longer, Cassie just nodded before settling into the back seat between the girls.
Noah slammed the door, then patted the top of the roof, signaling the driver to go.
Cassie held on to her tears until seeing the sign saying that they’d left Riverdale’s city limits. Then, and only then, did she let her misery flow.
She’d known better than to open her heart to another man. Hadn’t she learned anything from what Tom had done?
Only this time was even worse, because things didn’t have to turn out this way. If only she had left yesterday as planned, at the very least, she could have had Noah in her life, and the girls’ lives, as a friend for many years to come.
True, but wouldn’t that have ultimately hurt even worse?
Knowing she loved him, having to see him, pretending the whole time that she felt nothing more for him than friendship? That would have hurt much worse.
This way, the cut had been clean. Initially agonizing, but over.
Now, all that was left to do was let the healing begin.
“GREAT PARTY, NOAH!” Jimmy waved his barbecued chicken leg before chomping down. Noah stood at his grill scowling.
Unbelievable. Two weeks after Cass and the babies had left, and he was still creeped out by the quiet that’d descended over his house. So much so that he’d had to go and throw this party. An idea that had seemed good at the time, but now he was wondering if he’d gone overboard with the guest list.
The loud-mouthed gang of off-duty deputies and the fire department guys—currently engrossed in a death match volleyball game with a couple of emergency room doctors and the high school football and basketball coaches—apparently thought the crowd was just right.
Van Halen blared from the boom box Noah had set up outside for the occasion.
Mrs. Kleghorn glared from her backyard petunia bed.
“…so then, Kristen looked up at me and said, ‘Daddy, you make the best cereal in the whole wide world.”’ While the guys seated in lawn chairs around Ian Deaver carried on about how cute his latest kid story was, then started in with telling their own, Noah suppressed the craziest urge to jump right in with one of his own stories. How Noelle had spit up on him that Sunday afternoon at the grill. Or how cute Cass and his girls had looked curled up in his bed.
Trouble was, they weren’t his girls.
Never would be.
Could’ve been, but he’d turned their mother down—a good thing, seeing how much more fun he was having with the guys.
Noah’s dad wandered up. “How you been?”
“I’m all right. Finally caught up on my sleep now that Zane seems to have left town.”
“Plus, I’d imagine it was a relief getting your house back to yourself.”
“Oh sure. Heck, yeah. You know how rough it is having a baby around and all—try multiplying that by two.”
His dad sagely nodded.
“How’ve you been? Heard you been dating a certain pretty blonde from Harrison.” Noah winked, giving his old man a guy-to-guy shoulder nudge.
“Damn, this town’s gossip chain is efficient. Her name’s Marcia. Real cute and bubbly. Not half as pretty as your mother, but then nobody ever quite measures up to your first love. Marcia’s as much as admitted to feeling the same about her husband, Cal.”
“I take it he died?”
Noah’s dad nodded.
“I don’t mean to get in your business,” Noah said, “but it surprises me to hear you so melancholy about Mom. I mean, when she was alive, you two could hardly stand being in the same room.”
“True.” Misty-eyed, his old man took a swig of his beer. “I guess after a while, I got tired of her cold shoulder. Tired of trying. But tha
t doesn’t mean I ever got tired of looking at her. Loving her.”
Embarrassed by his dad’s sudden show of emotion, no doubt brought on by one too many Bud Lights, Noah said, “Yeah, well, women. What’re you going to do?”
Nodding, his dad said, “She ever tell you she was married to a guy before me?”
Noah was so shocked by this bit of news that he accidentally snapped a hot dog in half with his tongs. He tossed the broken halves to Ian’s golden lab who’d been contentedly lying in wait beside the deck, no doubt hoping for just such a windfall to come zinging his way.
“Richard was her high school sweetheart. They got married summer after graduation, then he got called up for Vietnam. Died his first tour. Year later, she moved to Riverdale, hoping for a fresh start. Back then, Grandpa Clyde owned a shoe store on Cherry Street. Forget the name. Anyway, I was smitten from the first time I saw her—kind of like you were with Cass.”
Noah focused on the grill, squeezing his eyes briefly shut. Guess that town gossip chain worked both ways.
“Lord, but your momma was something back then. Hair so blond, you’d think you were lookin’ at the sun.”
Noah had loved his mom, but it was another woman he saw. A woman with hair that glinted fire in the sun.
“We casually dated, but the only time I ever remember seeing your mom truly happy aside from later, when she was playing with you, was when she talked about Richard and the way things used to be with him. I tried making her happy…” He gazed across the crowded lawn as if no one were there save for her. “Tried so damned hard, but never could. I like this Marcia, son. Real well. Both of us have our closets full of ghosts, but…” As his words trailed off, he shrugged.
And again, Noah’s mind wandered to the parallel between his ghosts and Cass’s. Like his mom, she’d been married before, but unlike his mom, she now despised her former spouse.
“You thinking of marrying her—Marcia?” Noah asked.
“Maybe.” His dad winked. “But first hand me one of those dogs.”
ON A RAINY Monday morning, three weeks after she’d said goodbye to the only man she feared she might ever truly love, Cassie stepped off of the elevators leading to her firm, babies in tow.
“Good morning, Ginnie,” she said to her receptionist, forcing a bright tone.
“Cassie!” The young, pretty brunette dashed out from behind her antique cherry desk, crushing her boss in a hug before turning her attention to the babies.
“They’re beautiful! We were all hoping you’d come in soon for a visit.”
“Sorry it took me so long. Who knew sleep deprivation could be this rough?” Cassie crossed her fingers against her half truth. Oh, it was true enough that she was sleep-deprived, but had she been sleepy with Noah, she’d have still felt radiant, while without him, she just felt like a big tired blob.
The worst part of her depression was that she knew better. She was a strong, capable, independent woman who, even while she’d been married, had never been this emotionally bonded to a man. She’d loved Tom, but she’d never felt this all-consuming need for him. Like just being with Noah was a vitamin her body badly craved.
“Oh, I’m sure caring for these two is a full-time job,” Ginnie said with a sympathetic smile. “Which one is this?” she asked, picking up a baby.
“Noelle.”
“Ah, so this is the one named after the hunk who saved you. Chloe told us all about your whirlwind romance.”
Chloe has as big of a mouth as Brenda!
“So? Do you think he’ll pop the question?”
“No,” Cassie said, picking up Hope’s carrier, then striding toward her office, black pumps echoing off the Italian marble floor. “Our relationship wasn’t like that. We were just friends.”
“Sure,” Ginnie said, hustling after her. “I understand.”
Opening the double doors leading to her office, for the first time since returning to Little Rock to the starkly modern house she’d shared with Tom, Cassie felt at home. Calmed by cloth-covered ivory walls, gauzy ivory sheers framing a tenth-floor view of the Arkansas River and North Little Rock, and beyond that, rolling green hills dotted with homes and businesses.
Aside from the view, her mahogany desk and a few other assorted antiques and pictures, everything else in the room was pale ivory from the carpet to the plush furniture. She’d planned it that way to showcase the view of the vibrant city she loved.
Only standing with her palms pressed to the cool glass, she squeezed her eyes closed, not seeing Little Rock, but Riverdale. And the back of Noah’s Suburban where she’d fought to bring her children safely into the world. The hospital room with its fragrant bouquets. The cozy little house where she’d once again learned to laugh and live and love.
She saw all the things she’d wanted to change. The courtyard at the sheriff’s station she’d dreamed of one day filling with bright, fragrant flowers and hope. The fences she’d wanted to mend with Brenda. The two of them had somehow gotten off on the wrong foot, but given time, they could have shared jokes over Tater Tots, burgers and Brenda’s fabulous malts.
And Noah…given more time, maybe even things with him could have been different. Better.
Forever.
“All your personal mail is in the basket on your desk, along with your phone messages,” Ginnie said. “But I’m sure you don’t feel like going through all of it today.”
“No, I think I will,” Cassie said, taking Hope from her carrier, then easing into her buttery-soft ivory leather desk chair. “What do you think, sweetie? Ready to jump right into the family business?” While Mommy pretends everything is just great when in actuality, everything but you and your sister is wrong?
“NEVER MIND where you’ve been. What’s this?” Noah asked Zane well after midnight on a Friday night, dust from the dirt road that cut through Floyd’s largest pasture swirling eerily in his Blazer’s headlights. On the back seat floorboard of the kid’s beat-up Dodge Dart, he’d found a half-dozen empty beer cans, but what really made Noah’s day was the glass tube he was now holding up. When the kid didn’t answer, Noah smacked his hand against the car’s trunk. “What is this?”
“What’s it look like?” Zane said, eyes darting and wild. Probably still high. “Haven’t you ever seen a bong?”
“That’s it,” Noah said, tired and cranky, and in no mood to put up with one more second of this kid’s crap. “Time for you and me to have a nice long talk with a breathalyzer.” Slapping the kid into cuffs, he escorted him to the Blazer and got out his kit.
“I’m not doing that test,” Zane said. “I didn’t do a damned thing wrong.”
“Fine. Let’s talk about it more down at the station.”
“I’ve got rights, you know.”
“You sure do, and seeing how you’ve just been caught with all manner of illegal goodies in your car, not to mention the fact that there’s still that little matter of the liquor store robbery hanging over your head, you get to hear all about my rights to take you to court.”
BACK AT THE STATION, Noah had Jimmy check Zane into Riverdale’s finest barred-window motel where he’d have a premium view of a lovely concrete block wall.
Hours later, seated behind his desk, forehead resting in his hands, Noah didn’t even look up when a knock sounded on his door. “Yeah?”
“Sheriff?” Jimmy asked, helping himself to one of the guest chairs that had finally been cleared now that Noah spent every waking moment at work.
“What’s up?” he said, glancing the deputy’s way.
“Got something you might want to hear.”
“So? Out with it.”
“You know those prints you had us take off the bottles at Floyd’s?”
“Yeah.”
“And the liquor store?”
“Yeah?”
“And even the green tractor tires, footprints and the green mayor’s statue?”
“Lord, Jimmy, would you please get to your point.”
“Something’s
wrong with ’em.”
“You mean they’re not clear enough to be conclusive?”
“No,” Jimmy said. “I mean none of them match up with Zane’s. And the drug paraphernalia we just found in his car, and all those beer cans. His prints aren’t on any of those, either. And Briggs just watched that liquor store video again, and there’s no way either of those boys was Zane.”
“Oh, come on. Had to be.”
“No, sir. Zane’s hair’s a good four or five inches longer than either of the boys’ hair on that tape.”
A sickening heat flooded Noah’s chest. “Crap.”
“And Sheriff? There’s one more thing.”
Great. “What’s that?”
“Zane. He’s in his cell bawling like a baby. Me and Briggs never seen anything like it.”
Sighing, Noah made his way to the kid’s cell and let himself in. “Mind telling me what’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Zane sat huddled in the cell’s far corner, hugging his knees.
“Then why you crying?”
“What do you care? No matter what I say, you already know I’m guilty.”
Noah shrugged.
“I hate it when you do that. All the kids at school hate it, too. Like when you come give us all those self-righteous Don’t Do Drugs speeches, and then when someone asks you the really tough questions, you just turn all red and shrug. It’s lame.”
Thanks. My ego really needed all that on top of what I’m already going through with Cass. “Great. Anything else I need to know?”
“Yeah, that I know you’ve got your heart set on saving me, but that I don’t need your help. I’m going to make something of myself without help from you or my dad or anyone else. Maybe sign up for the marines. Or get a scholarship to that welding school they advertise for over in Tulsa.”
“Good, Zane. Both of those sound like real good choices.”
“My choices. I don’t know who died and left you thinking you’re all in charge, but you’re not—least not of me. Hell, you can’t even get your own life straight. I don’t know what gives you the right to go preaching to everybody else about how they live theirs.”
Babies And Badges (American Baby) Page 17