Not in Her Wildest Dreams

by Dani Collins

  “You were supposed to go back to Seattle.” Paige’s mother hugged her, trailing a scent of cleaning products and cigarettes. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Long story,” Paige dismissed, eyeing Sterling over her shoulder as he saw off the mattress men and let in his parents.

  His mother brought four casseroles, three bags of clothes and a bag full of drug store items. After they had everything carried in, Sterling’s father went to survey the remains of Grady’s house.

  Sterling called Lyle’s cell, keeping an ear tuned to the conversation in the kitchen between his mother and Connie.

  “The Friends In Need Assembly has come through again,” his mother was saying. “But we haven’t found accommodation. Will your children stay with you?”

  “Shirley and I cleared the small bedroom for Paige. Lyle will have to take the sofa,” Connie said.

  “Fogarty,” Lyle answered in Sterling’s ear.

  “We have a mattress for you. Swing by the factory and grab a bed frame while you’re out. It’s a king.”

  “You fired me for stealing, dumb ass. No. Remind me to give you my keys later.”

  Right. Sterling cursed. “Fine. Dad and I will run over and get one.”

  “Your parents are there?”

  “And your mom.”

  “I’ll take my time with these paint chips, then. Call me when everyone’s gone.”

  Sterling hung up in time to hear Paige say, “Sterling said we could stay here, Mom.”

  “That’s right. He did mention that.” Evelyn’s forced cheerfulness made her voice so high, dogs across town were perking up their ears. “Well, I suppose it’s the neighborly thing for Walter and I to loan the house. Sterling’s room is always ready for him at home.”

  Sterling poked his head around the archway. “Lyle and Paige are staying here with me.” To Paige he added, “Leave those.”

  She ignored him and tried to wrestle a sack of clothing past both him and the mattresses in the hallway, toward the bedrooms. “I’ll do it,” he said, taking the bag from her. “Why don’t you make coffee?”

  His mother snatched up the last bag and followed him down the hall, holding him hostage in the bedroom.

  “Sterling. No.”

  “Be nice,” he ordered her. “Paige got you something.”

  He fished out the key from his pocket and opened the drawer in the headboard, handing her the sack of cash Paige’s ex had brought.

  His mother was utterly flummoxed, her expression just about worth everything they’d all been through to arrive at this moment and see it.

  “Is this drug money?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “Mother. She’s reimbursing you for her tuition.”

  “Hmmph.” She weighed it in a disdainful hand, obviously recognizing she’d lost her position on the high road. “But how is it going to look, her staying here?”

  “Like we live together?”

  “Oh, Sterling.” There was a wealth of disappointment in her voice, but there was something else entirely in her expression. Melancholy. Regret, maybe. Wistfulness?

  It churned things up inside him. Anger. Pity. He wanted to hate her for hurting his Dad, yet wondered at the same time if she’d given up feelings for Grady to stay with her husband. Bottom line was, she was his mother. He was going to have to find a way to fit her into his life. Their lives. And she was going to have to fit Paige into hers if he was going to have any chance with her at all.

  “Too bad she has reservations about continuing our relationship,” he said, as Paige came into the room with the bag from the drug store.

  Paige halted the way people do when they realize they’re being talked about. “What?”

  Sterling heaved a big sigh. “Give up the idea of grandchildren, Mom. There won’t be anyone to carry on the Roy name or take over the legacy of the factory. Might as well sell Granny’s china, too. It’s not likely to pass down through the women the way you always wanted.”

  His mother’s nostrils flared. She wasn’t stupid. She had enough sense to realize she was in line for a decade’s worth of making reparation.

  Raising disapproving brows, she asked Paige, “Why on earth would you hesitate to continue your relationship with my son? Don’t you know what a catch he is?”

  “I’m aware there’s a catch, yes.” So blithe. He adored her.

  His mother’s chin went up, her eyes narrowed. “Of all the women he could have chosen, he has chosen you. And he has excellent taste. I’m sure he’d prefer to see you in something other than his jacket and those sloppy pants. I’m surprised at you, Paige. You usually turn yourself out better than that.”

  “My house burned down.”

  “I brought clothes from the thrift store. There was another bag. Let’s put everything away and see what we find.” His mother walked out and Paige glared at him.

  He shrugged. “She’ll grow on you.”

  “Like a fungus.”

  ~ * ~

  Hell hath no determination like a woman whose son has been scorned. Paige was exhausted and glad to see the back of both mothers an hour later. Making herself some tea, she was looking forward to curling up on the sofa under Sterling’s quilt again, hiding from the gale coming through the hole above the kitchen sink.

  Lyle had brought back the cutest box window, the kind that begged for herb pots and a suncatcher. The men would be busy installing that for a while, leaving her time to review her notes on the audit and plan her next steps.

  She would probably binge-watch a sitcom instead.

  But as she poured the hot water into the teapot and glanced out the space over the sink, she saw Olinda pulling up in front of the charred remains of the house.

  Great. More visiting. Paige went to the back porch and waved at her.

  “Oh, honey,” Olinda said, staggering into Lyle’s cars as she looked over her shoulder while making her way toward Paige. “Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would look like that. You said it was gone, but—” She took Paige in a hard hug.

  Tears sprang to Paige’s eyes. Silly, but if there was a blessing behind this horror, it was realizing how much the people she loved, loved her back.

  “Are you all right? Why on earth were you still there?” She kept one arm around Paige and viewed the destruction. “Well, I guess that answers the question about whether the house will be sold or not, doesn’t it? I know you kept the insurance up to date,” she said with a tilt of her chin that said, Don’t you dare say I’m wrong.

  “I did.” Paige released Olinda and drew the edges of her periwinkle cardigan together. It was itchy if it brushed her skin, but cozy over the yellow cotton turtleneck Evelyn had picked out for her. “I just made tea. Would you like some?”

  “That would be divine.” She checked her step as she saw Lyle come around the side of the house.

  Lyle gave her a cold stare. “Thanks for your help the other day. I understand you were the one who told Sterling I was stealing.”

  “Don’t start,” Paige said to him, guiding Olinda into the house ahead of her.

  “Still blaming me because Dad kicked you out?” His voice carried through the hole above the sink.

  “He did not kick me out!” Olinda marched to the sink and leaned across it to glare at him through the window opening. “He was having an affair. I left.”

  “He threw you out for hitting his kid. I would have done the same.”

  “You were taking money from my purse. What was I supposed to do? Let it keep happening? Apparently you still haven’t learned that stealing is wrong.”

  Paige stared at her friend. At the woman who had been a big sister and a mentor and there for her in a million ways that her mother hadn’t been capable of. She wasn’t unfamiliar with these accusations, but as a pre-teen desperate for a stable adult in her life, she’d accepted Olinda’s explanation, half believing Lyle had brought Olinda’s anger on himself.

  Now he growled, “Dad had his fingers in your purse. And he knew about th
ose invoices. I don’t steal. So how about you admit you were wrong and apologize.”

  “Just you watch yourself,” Olinda shot back.

  “Why? You can’t fuck up my paychecks anymore, can you?”

  Paige touched Olinda’s arm, trying to ground out the firestorm between these two, pouring out two cups of tea while her mind churned through old, harsh memories.

  “You know what he was like,” Olinda excused, letting Paige pull her toward the parlor. “Absolutely wild. Your father wouldn’t admit he was seeing someone else. A saint would have lost control.” She dabbed fingertips beneath one eye.

  Paige looked into her cup, not interested in drinking it anymore. She wanted to believe it was stupid to be suspicious of Olinda after one dark reminder of Olinda’s temper, but now she kept thinking of how single-minded Olinda was. How she wasn’t a stranger to getting her way however she had to get it.

  “Did you go straight home last night?” Paige asked, settling onto the sofa.

  “Yes.” Olinda perched on the recliner. “But I was upset and couldn’t sleep so I drove into Lasser for the all-night bingo. Do you need a ride back to Seattle?”

  “No, I’m staying here.”

  “In town?”

  “Here.” Paige pointed at the floor. “With Sterling.”

  Olinda made a noise as she leaned to set her mug on the coffee table.

  Paige wanted her to smile and hug her, tell her she deserved to get the boy she had crushed on in high school. Instead the older woman lifted cynical brows.

  “So you’re going after a share in the factory the old fashioned way?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  No, Paige had insisted, but Olinda’s remark was still bothering her days later. Was that how it would look if she stayed with Sterling? Why did she care?

  Was he even thinking they would get that serious? The things he’d said to his mother about grandchildren had been pure jackassery, spoken to get a rise out of Evelyn. He wasn’t thinking about marriage.

  Was he?

  She was back to taking things one day at a time.

  The days were pretty good, all things considered. At least having her father’s power of attorney let her fill out all the forms to get the insurance rolling on the house, but with the police investigation ongoing, they weren’t likely to settle anytime soon.

  Evelyn dropped by daily, which was annoying, but she never came empty handed and it was always something genuinely useful: hair dryers and closet organizers, a coffee grinder or an umbrella. At work, Walter only showed up for an hour here and there and signed off on anything Sterling asked, so at least that was peaceful. Sterling steered the ship and even Olinda had shut up about the audit after her initial surprise that it was still on.

  “I thought you said Grady’s share was gone?”

  “Are you going to look a gift horse in the mouth?” Paige asked her.

  “I suppose not. What do you need?” Olinda grumbled, leaving to locate the files Paige requested.

  Then there were the evenings when the men might work on the renovations for a couple of hours, good-naturedly trash talking each other, or Sterling might take her out for dinner, or Lyle might leave for a movie with Zack, giving her and Sterling the house to themselves...

  Those evenings were the best because they didn’t have to stifle their moans. But even the early mornings when they lazily rolled together and joined bodies, working up a sweat from suppressed, near tantric lovemaking, left her delirious.

  Life was good. And if she was almost finished with the audit and facing a big decision, well, she was ignoring that for the moment and enjoying what she had.

  Tonight they had something in the slow-cooker that Evelyn had left for them. Paige lifted the lid and sniffed. Chicken, potatoes, onions and rosemary... Mmm.

  “When was Evelyn here?” she called.

  No answer.

  She frowned. The house was quiet. Too quiet. This place had been Power Tool Central since she and Lyle had moved in.

  “Lyle?” She wandered down the hall, trailing her hand along the chair rail he’d mounted to separate the painted portion of the wall from the papered one.

  The bathroom still smelled of epoxy and paint beneath the potpourri she had left there, but it was bright, clean, finished and empty.

  So was his bedroom. It smelled of paint too, and faintly of sawdust, despite the new carpet she’d vacuumed yesterday. He had moved all the furniture back into the room, including the Four-Post Pioneer Sterling had brought home for the king mattress Lyle had been using. It was a little crowded, but clean. Lyle’s paint-stained work clothes were gone, along with his spy novels and the loose change from the top of the dresser.

  Huh.

  He didn’t have any work left, so what was he doing?

  He didn’t have any work left.

  She checked the window in the master bedroom, the hall-closet door, the bricks in front of the fireplace, the tap on the kitchen sink. All the repairs were done.

  And there was a duffel bag beside the back door.

  She glanced out the new kitchen window and saw his cars were gone, the fence was gone, and he was almost—

  “Ly-yal!” She ran out the back door.

  He stood on their old yard, staring at the blackened heap that was all that remained of their childhood home. He’d picked through it for the few tools he’d been able to salvage, but they’d mostly been reduced to an estimate he was submitting to the insurance agency.

  The grass was cold, but not wet. She tip-toed across it in socked feet, arms crossed against the windy, cloudless afternoon.

  “No need to get Golden Boy all in a dither that you’re out without a jacket. I was coming back to the house. My truck’s that way.” He pointed toward Sterling’s driveway.

  “You’re leaving? Why?”

  “To get away from you two sex fiends. Give the man a break, Pidge. He’s losing weight.”

  “Shut up,” she laughed, blushing, then sobered, heart skidding in her chest. “Where are you going? To see Dad?”

  “No. Those two gotta be having sex by now, don’t you think? I definitely don’t need to hear that. Nah, I don’t know.” He shrugged and his long shadow shifted against the pile of debris. “I’ll let you know when I get there.”

  She didn’t return his self-deprecating smile. “But... why? When did you decide this?”

  “The other day, after my court appearance. I’m free to go anywhere I want so I will. I’m not going on a bender. Quit chewing off your lip. I just want a change of scenery. You know what that’s like.”

  Too well, but her feet weren’t as itchy as they used to be. She’d been comfortable in the communal routine of sharing work and meals with Sterling and her brother. When he was sober, Lyle was funny and focused and acted like he worried about her. When Zack came by, they all played cards. It was like having a normal family. She liked it.

  And living with Sterling.... If Lyle wasn’t here... Pressure built in her throat.

  “Have you talked to Zack?”

  “I’m going there now. He’ll be fine with it. And Brit doesn’t want me here.” He pushed his hands into his pockets, troubled, but not deeply troubled the way he had been. Just sad. Deeply, deeply sad. “Cam’ll step in easier if I’m not here.”

  “Cam will come around, or not, in his own time. It’s nothing to do with you. It’s not fair to make you leave.”

  “I want to go, Pidge.”

  But she didn’t want him to.

  “What about when the audit is finished? Don’t you want—”

  “I don’t care. Honestly. Anything that’s supposed to come to me you can give to Brit for Zack and—” The baby. He cut himself off, bent and picked up a stray nail, stared at it a long moment, then threw it toward the pile of rubble.

  He was worried about the birth. “Lyle—”

  “Did I hassle you this bad when you left for Seattle? ‘Cause I don’t remember doing it.”

  “I’m not hassling
you. I’m going to miss you.”

  ~ * ~

  Sterling came into a quiet house.

  Strange. Paige’s shoes were here so she was probably bracing a board for Lyle or holding a tape measure. Maybe they were in the garage since he couldn’t hear them squabbling. His knee-jerk reaction was to play peacemaker, the way he would with his parents, but he was learning their snarky ping-pong was their way of connecting so he’d stopped interfering.

  Setting down the inventory files he’d brought home to discuss with Paige, he went to the sink for a glass of water, looked past the plants and the dangling crystal that Paige had loaded into his kitchen window, and saw Lyle and Paige outside, talking, heads down.

  Something in their body language stilled his heart.

  It looked like Paige was wiping tears, nodding at whatever Lyle was saying, head still hanging.

  Sterling took a step toward the door, concerned, and noticed the duffel beside the door.

  Oh.

  He stepped back to see out the window and watched Lyle take Paige’s shoulders. He said something else that made her nod then pulled her into a bear hug that lifted her off the ground. When he set her back on her feet, she turned her back to Sterling’s house, looking at where her own had once stood, and used the heel of her hand on her cheek.

  Lyle walked toward Sterling’s house with tough determination in his step. He came in the back door and shouldered the duffel. “We gotta do the hugs and kisses routine, too?”

  Whatever it takes to keep you here, buddy. This was going to hit Paige really hard, especially on the tail of the call from Grady the other day. He was staying in Palm Springs for the foreseeable future. Far from being pulled back to Liebe Falls against her will, she was losing reasons to stay.

  “Where are you going?”

  Lyle shrugged. “I’ll see how far the money from selling my cars gets me, then find a job. The invoice for the work I did here is on the table. Make the check out to Britta.”

  Sterling nodded. He pulled out a business card and scrawled on it.

  “If you get as far as the Carolinas, check in with Patty. She’ll let you into my house. You could get it ready for me to sell.”

  Lyle pocketed it without looking, jerked his chin toward the table. “There’s a sketch there, for an addition to this house, for when you need another bedroom and a second bath. You could raise the whole works and put a floor underneath, but you’ll need an architect for that.”