“About a half hour ago when Tate sent me the music.”
“Am I supposed to meet them in Nampa?”
Shane shrugged his shoulders. “That’s up to you.” Grasping the speaker, he indicated that he’d like to get back to practicing. I nodded and left him to his devices. He obviously didn’t want to talk to me. He’d barely said two words at dinner.
Whether he was feeling spurned or giving me space I couldn’t figure out. I totally didn’t get it. I had tried so hard to prevent this from happening. I didn’t want this discomfort between us, not knowing what to say every time we crossed paths. And we would cross paths. We were both an intrinsic part of Tate and Coop’s lives.
Prying the second shoe from my foot, I tossed it beside the first, and headed for the bathroom. A hot bath and a bottle of wine sounded unquestionably divine. I needed to lose myself for an hour or two, and the bathroom had a Jacuzzi tub.
“Emelia.” I turned at the sound of Shane’s voice. He spoke loudly, raising his voice over the music. “It was peaceful. I remember feeling at ease.”
I nodded; though, the thought did little to comfort me.
Patting my thigh as I passed the dogs, I called them to me. Pardoned for their trespasses, they scrambled from the foot of the sofa, fighting over the right to walk closer to my side. Rake might’ve been stronger, but Fiend was smarter. She, in the end, took my left, while he walked at my right. I gave her a scratch on the head for her ingenuity.
I left them in my bedroom, and headed to the bathroom to start the tub. When I felt something nudge the back of my leg, I found Rake peeking from behind me, at the streaming water. He must’ve thought I was about to toss him in, because when I reached down to scratch behind his ear, he bolted from the room.
In the bedroom, when I returned to gather my clothes, I found the two of them rolling on the floor and playing idly with each other. Under the belief that they might behave reasonably while I soaked in the tub, I left them there to play.
How wrong I was.
About ten minutes into the bath, and at the end of my joint, just when I was beginning to relax, I heard the duo running through the house. They sounded like a pack of wild dogs, growling and barking, their nails clicking against the wood floors.
“Hey!” That would be Shane. “Whatcha got? Gimmie that.” A growl. More nails against the floor. “You little shit—get back here!”
The door to the bathroom flew open. Fiend came barreling in, something red and lacy peeking from between her jowls. First, I gasped, and then I shouted. “Fiend!”
The little fiend spit my thong from her mouth faster than you could say disaster. Shane came running in a second later, immediately spotting the flimsy stretch of lace on the floor. “Damn, that was impressive. How did you get her to—” Lifting my panties from the tile, he stopped short, realizing what he had in his hand.
Stretching them from finger to finger, he took a long gander. I promptly slung my arm across my breasts and stood, snatching them from his hand. Just as quickly, I dropped back into the water. It only took once glance at my expression for him to determine I wasn’t in the joking mood. Still, I caught his smile in the mirror as he left the room. Prudently following his example, Fiend scrambled after him.
Chapter 10
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Bah humbug.”
“Das a bad wood,” said Levy, in response to Carter’s salutation. He dropped his head, blandishing us with his blue eyes, as if the mere mention of those words might prevent him from getting Christmas presents.
Gabi giggled at this. “He’s so cute.”
Carter sneered playfully at his niece. “Teehee! He’s so cute!”
Carter’s family, Shane and I sat on the sofa, in front of the big screen, chatting with Coop and Tate’s family via video conference.
“We watched Scrooge last night,” Tate explained. “He decided that on his own.”
“But it’s not a bad word,” Carter argued.
“I told him that,” Tate agreed, “but he ain’t hearing it.”
Stepping closer to the cam, Carter leaned in. “It’s not a bad word, kid. You can say bah humbug all you like. Santa don’t care.”
In reaction, Levy’s mouth popped open in a gasp. “No pwesents for yew! Yew no get any presents! Yew bad!”
“My God, he’s like the Christmas Nazi. Coop, what did you do to the kid? You’re going to have to deprogram him. Make him say ‘bah humbug’ and then give him a present.”
At the sound of the word, and not the bad one, Levy’s face brightened. “I hab a pwesent?’
“Make him say it first!”
“Carter!” Jess admonished. “Will you stop it! You’re going to teach him that saying bad words is ok!”
“BUT IT’S NOT A BAD WORD!” Carter exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air.
“That doesn’t matter! He’s think’s it is!” Jess shook her head in censure. “Your children, if you ever have them, are going to be delinquents. I swear it.”
“I hab a pwesent?” Levy asked, undeterred. He was bright-eyed and single minded.
“Go ahead, Mini Cooper,” said Tate, “go open a present.”
Levy slid from Cooper’s lap and scampered out of view. You could hear the echo of his voice in the background. Tate smiled widely and laughed. “He went for the biggest one, naturally.”
The entire room, both ours and theirs, waited with anticipation for Levy to open his gift. Tate bought him, of all things, a drum set. While he showed interest in the guitar, his real passion was watching Shane wood shedding. I think it meant playing the drums. I knew nothing about music, so it was a mere conjecture on my part.
“Are you heartbroken over this, Tate?” Jess asked curiously. There was a hint of a smirk on her face. Every man wanted his boy to follow in his footsteps.
Tate waved off the notion. “Nah, he still likes to sing.”
“If he takes after Coop,” Carter theorized, “he’s golden.”
Cooper flushed and smiled. “Thank you, Carter.”
“It’s good to hear your voice again.”
“That’s temporary,” Tate qualified. He was a stickler where her voice was concerned. We all knew he was looking out for her wellbeing. He understood her dreams and aspirations. He wanted desperately to help her achieve them.
“I’m. Using. It. Sparingly!” Cooper objected. Her voice cracked, substantiating Tate’s warning. Her expression curdled, soured by disappointment.
Comforting her, Tate grasped her knee and gave it a squeeze. “It’ll be fine, Coop. It’s still too early for all of that. You’re always hoarse in the morning.”
With a weak smile, Coop nodded and slipped away. Tate’s gaze followed her off the screen. He frowned and stood. As he passed, he turned the camera so that it focused on Levy, who was surveying the package to determine where to start.
Diane appeared at Levy’s side. She turned toward the camera. “She tries not to let it show, but it’s wearing on her.”
“Dr. Watkins said she was healing well,” Richard pointed out.
“She is,” Diane confirmed, “but Coop has always been a verbally expressive person. It kills her not to talk.” Taking it all in stride, or hiding her own concern, Diane looked at Levy, who was still staring at the package. “You have to tear it, kiddo, rip it apart.”
A smile spread across his face, but he looked at her uncertainly. “I wip it?”
“You want Grandma to help?”
“No.” Toddling over to the pile of presents by the tree, he picked up a much smaller package and handed it to Diane. “Yew hab dis one.”
Diane smiled and laughed. “Thank you, but this one’s yours too, sweetheart.”
Levy’s eye lit with wonder. “Das mine too?”
“It sure is!”
“If it looked like Levy,” Richard qualified. “And if it were a boy.”
“Boys are easier,” Jess agreed.
“Mom!” Gabi objected, indignantly. “That’s so unfair!”
“You’re right,” Jess conceded. “That’s not totally true. God knows, Carter certainly wasn’t an easy child. If it wasn’t for Nolan’s belt…”
“I always knew you were behind that,” Carter scoffed.
“It wasn’t my idea. I just gave him the permission.”
“Nice. You gave permission for someone to beat me with a leather belt. Not that I hold it against you, Nolan.”
“You deserved it, for cutting down Beth’s rosebushes, and more,” Jess argued. “You were a bad kid. Completely disrespectful.”
“They were for a girl. I didn’t have money to spend.”
“My God,” said Tate, walking back into view. “Is he still crying about that? It’s been fifteen years.”
“I’m not crying.”
“Sure,” said Tate, offhandedly. “You didn’t cry then either. You just got something in your eye.”
“I didn’t cry.”
“Bull, you didn’t.”
“I didn’t. Ask Jake; he was there. He’ll tell you.”
“Jake’s not here. He went to spend the holiday with Mattie.”
“They always spend it at your house.”
“She met a guy. They’re serious.”
“For real?’
“I guess so. She wanted to introduce him to Jake.”
“Fuck.” Both households erupted, deriding Carter for his language. Carter raised his hands in apology. “Sorry…sorry…it’s just hard not to think of her as a kid anymore. Jesus, Jake’s probably beside himself.”
“See what I mean?” Jess said, staring at her preteen daughter. “Boys are just easier. You only have to worry about one penis when you have a son. When you have a daughter, you have to worry about all of them.”
“God, Mom,” said Gabi, “you’re so embarrassing.” Rolling her eyes, she left the room, pouting only the way a teenaged girl could pull off.
“What are you doing, little man?” Tate asked Levy. While everyone else had fallen into conversation, waiting for Levy to open his gifts, he was determined to find a gift for Diane to open. She now had a small collection of boxes around her feet.
“Her a pwesent.”
“We’ll open ours’ later,” Tate assured. “You open your presents first. Come on.” Lifting Levy under his arms, he placed him in front of the large box.
Again, Levy stared concernedly, afraid to desecrate the paper by ripping it. Cooper came back into the room. She sat on the other side of Levy. Reaching up, she tore a corner of the paper. She murmured something lowly, and urged him to join in. A smile spread across Levy’s face. Hesitantly, he reached up and tore the paper. Urging him on, everyone cheered and clapped their hands. Bright eyed, he panned the room, bouncing in place with excitement.
“Go ahead, Lev,” Tate pressed. “Have at it.”
Sure of himself now, he grasped a large handful of paper and dragged it downward, exposing one side of the box. Proud of himself, he turned for reassurance. “I wipped it! I wipped the papuh!” He clapped his hands, showing both rows of tiny teeth in a euphoric smile. The room burst into laughter. Buoyed by all the excitement, he ripped the rest of the paper from the box in huge sheets, like peeling a banana.
“I think he got the hang of it.” Carter sat on the sofa beside me. Stretching down, he scratched Rake along the scruff of his neck.
“I’d say so,” I agreed. I sat back and watched, despite Fiend gnawing on my toes. I could feel her tiny teeth catching on my sock. I figured it was better than having her gnaw on Jess’s sofa or coffee table. She’d done that earlier.
“Next year should be a blast.”
“Every holiday will be a blast,” I corrected. “Valentines, St. Patty’s day, Easter, they’ll all be major ordeals after this. He finally gets it. There’s no going back. Coop will be hanging up construction paper decorations for every holiday.”
“Paper garland.”
“Paper garland,” I agreed. “Paper snowflakes. Turkey made from tracing your hand. Hearts with a lace paper border. Jack o’ lanterns.”
“I loved that shit when I was a kid.”
“I still do. I love to see the kids’ faces when they finish. It could be god awful, but it’s beautiful because they’re so proud.”
“That’s terrible. You just called their art ugly.”
“Red and green don’t actually make purple; they make brown. But I still have that painting of a brown Barney hanging on my fridge.”
“God, that’s sweet.”
“Stai zitto, Carter.”
“What? I’m being serious.”
“Sure.”
“Hey, Em.”
“I’m ignoring you. It’s Christmas. Let me be merry and bright.”
“I looooove yooouuuu.” I said nothing, ignoring him. “You looooove me.” He leaned closer, draped his arm over my shoulder. “We’re a happy familyyyyy…”
“How much have you had to drink this morning?”
“With a great big hug…” Carter pulled me under his arm, and planted a great big kiss on my forehead. “And a kiss from me to you…”
“I’m outta here.” Ducking under his arm, I made for the kitchen. Carter’s voice followed me as I left the room, as did Shane’s steely gaze.
“Won’t you say you love me too?”
Carter’s teasing, I could brush off, but Shane’s stare cut a hole right through me. I still didn’t get his angle. Whatever it was, he decided to do it from a distance. I was getting the silent treatment and the stare. I didn’t like it one bit. I almost preferred he’d come out and say it. At least I’d know where I stood with him.
Since Jess was a terrible cook, the kitchen was the least used room in the house. The notion was foreign to me. My father and I lived in the kitchen. Whether at home or at Nonna’s, everyone knew right where to find us. It was our central hub.
Hence, Jess recruited me to help with Christmas dinner. In other words, Jess recruited me to do the cooking. “I can cook,” she told me, “but I can’t guarantee it’ll be edible. If you help, maybe we’ll all actually enjoy Christmas dinner.”
I acquiesced because I thought it would keep me busy and take my mind off of things, but I had no such luck. When I wasn’t thinking about Shane and his silent treatment, I was worrying about Coop. She was strong, but not imperturbable.
Somebody had leaked Tate’s number, and they had all sorts of kooks calling his house, from aggressive reporters that didn’t know how to take no for an answer, to Tate’s psychotic fan girls who thought Coop was the cause of his problems, and threatening her was the answer. One promised that she would make Sharon Tate’s fate look like child’s play. After that, Tate unplugged all the phones in the house and activated the security system. It stayed on at all times, day or night.
“If you didn’t want to cook all you had to do was say so.” Swinging his leg over the stool, Carter took a seat at the kitchen island. “Jess wouldn’t have held it against you.”
I looked down at the potatoes I was mashing. I guess my emotions were filtering into my work. “I was just thinking about Coop.”
“Is that all?” His implication was clear. He was asking about Shane.
“Do you think Amanda Keller is responsible for leaking Tate’s number?” I asked, deflecting the question.
“I have no doubt. She’s a rich little Daddy’s girl. She’s used to getting what she wants. This is just her throwing a hissy fit.”
“I think it’s safe to say she’s destroyed any chance she had with Tate.”
“She never had a chance with Tate to begin with.”
I wondered if Amanda Keller was aware of that.
“Sweetheart,” Carter drawled, reading my expression, �
��Tate never led her to believe they were anything more than a quick fuck. If she was running on a different assumption, then she conjured up those fairytales on her own.”
“He was with her more than once.”
“Because she had the money and the connections to buy her way backstage. She was convenient and willing. She used him as much as he used her; trust me. She liked having a story to tell her friends. She was fucking Tate Watkins.”
“That’s my point. It always means more to a girl than a guy. It’s not just a physical act. There’s always emotion involved.”
Stretching his arm, he scooped a handful of nuts into his palm from the dish at the center of the island. “Does it really matter? She cut Coop, Emster.”
“No, Jesus, no, she needs to be in jail. She’s obviously dangerous. I’m just wondering to what lengths she’ll go. What’s her frame of mind?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
“She could’ve been drunk at the time.”
Dumbfounded, Carter stared at me. “Are you for real?”
“I know. I know. I’m not that naïve. I’m just hoping for Coop’s sake that this leak was a fluke, because, sooner or later, she’s going to break. Anyone would. A person can take only so much.”
“That’s why you’re coming back to Seattle—to lift her spirits.”
I snorted deprecatingly. “Because I’m so uplifting.”
Carter fished a cashew from his hand and popped it in his mouth. “You bring that on yourself.”
“What?”
“You were dealt a shit hand; I’ll give you that, but it’s up to you whether you want to wallow in it or not.”
“Wow.”
“Just saying. You lost your kid. It’s a shame. It really is. Your dickhead ex should’ve gone away a lot longer, but that’s not the way life works. Don’t look at me like I’m an asshole. I mean, I am, but my point is I’ve been in your shoes before, so I have a right to call it like it is.”
“You’ve been in my shoes before,” I said doubtfully.
“I might not have lost a kid, but I’ve lost. My parents for one; my leg, too. Didn’t know that, did you?” Reaching down, he rapped his knuckles against his thigh. It made a hollow, plastic sound. “Drunk driver. He crossed the median. Hit us head on. My parents were killed instantly. The paramedics had to remove my leg to get me out of the wreck.”
Breaking the Habit Page 11