Every Waking Moment

by Brenda Novak

  Manuel wondered how long it might take to fly to Iowa. When he couldn’t find any trace of Vanessa at the airport, he’d stayed in Salt Lake and waited for Hector to join him. Now the wait was over.

  Static interrupted. Then Manuel heard a crinkling noise and supposed Vanessa was giving Dominick his treat. He knew he’d guessed right when his son remained quiet for more than two seconds.

  “Are you ever going to tell me who’s waiting for you in Cedar Rapids?” Vanessa asked.

  It took Preston so long to respond that Manuel feared, for a moment, the phone had cut out. But finally, the answer came. “Probably not.”

  His phone lost its signal then, and Manuel cursed. He would’ve liked to continue listening. But he’d heard enough.

  Smiling, he raised his wineglass in a toast. So Vanessa wanted to know who was waiting for Preston in Cedar Rapids?

  With any luck, he and Hector would be waiting for them both.

  HEADLIGHTS STREAMED toward them, but Max was asleep and Preston was driving, so Emma watched each car pass with half-closed eyes. They’d had dinner in Omaha and moved on, traveling so long she’d lost track of time and place. All she understood was that Juanita was dead and Manuel had killed her.

  She’d known there was something wrong with Max’s father, but this…Poor Juanita. Thinking of what she must have suffered made Emma ill. How could Manuel do such a thing? That question echoed through her mind again and again. She had no answer.

  Maybe she should’ve stayed with him. Then Juanita would still be alive.

  Fatigue dragged at her arms as she rubbed her face. She couldn’t have stayed with him. Living with him was killing her by degrees. She had the right to seek a decent life, didn’t she? And what about Max? He, at least, deserved the future she envisioned for him instead of the cold, empty life they’d been living.

  “How’d your son die?” Emma asked suddenly. She couldn’t stand her own thoughts any longer. She needed to talk. And even though she knew Preston wouldn’t appreciate the topic she’d chosen, she was tired of being kept at a distance. He was willing to make love to her, listen to her, comfort her, help her. But he wouldn’t let her do anything for him. Most of the time he wouldn’t even let her drive.

  He glanced over but didn’t answer.

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “Misery loves company, is that it?”

  “You think I’m trying to hurt you?”

  He scowled. “There’s no point in delving into the past. Forget it.”

  “Like you’ve forgotten it?”

  The veins stood out on his forearms as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “You’re angry, and you’re looking for a target. I’m not going to give you one.”

  “Of course I’m angry. A wonderful woman was murdered this week—by my child’s father. I keep wondering how I could have avoided this? Where did I go wrong? I was twenty-two when I made the decision to get involved with Manuel. How was I supposed to know he wasn’t what he appeared to be? That he’d change so much? How was I supposed to know that caring about the wrong person could destroy my life?”

  “It’s a tough lesson to learn, but a lot of people have to learn it,” he said.

  “People like you?” she asked.

  “Stop it, Emma.”

  “You want to make love to me again,” she whispered.

  He didn’t deny it.

  “And you want me to feel something when you do.”

  He didn’t deny that, either.

  “Yet you’ve shut yourself off from me completely.”

  He wouldn’t look at her. “I’m not in a position to give you and Max what you need.”

  “Bullshit! That’s a cop-out,” she said. “You could care about me, if you’d let yourself. But your grief stands between us. And you won’t share it with me, won’t allow me to carry some of the load.”

  “There’s more to it than grief, Emma. Let it go.”

  She didn’t want to let it go. Letting it go, meant letting him go. “Tell me what happened.”

  No answer.

  “Who’s Vince?”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I’ll help you and Max get settled in a weekly motel or a house or someplace like that. Then I’m leaving.”

  The finality of his declaration took her by surprise—and stung even more than she’d expected. “You’re putting me on notice?”

  “I’ve been honest about what to expect all along.”

  “Expecting more, and wanting more, are two different things,” she said softly.

  His scowl eased. “What I want has nothing to do with it, Emma.”

  “So tonight would just be one for the road?”

  He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “It wouldn’t be like that.”

  She’d been there, knew exactly what it’d be like. She’d give almost anything to make love with Preston again, but she couldn’t bear the pain of having him turn his back on her afterward. Trying to rebuild her life after Manuel was bad enough. She couldn’t afford to let Preston break her heart when she needed to be strong.

  “There are some things I have to do, Emma,” he said when she didn’t respond. “I don’t know what my life will be like after that.”

  “And you’re offering me this great insight into your complexity because…”

  “I don’t want you to think tonight would be meaningless to me.”

  “You say this on the heels of ‘I’m out of here’?” she said bitterly. “Well, don’t bother trying to convince me, because I don’t want you to touch me.” She was already struggling with her guilt and sadness over Juanita’s death and the knowledge that Manuel was now a murderer. She didn’t need to add to that any disappointment over the fact that the one man who could claim her, heart and soul, wasn’t willing to make the necessary sacrifice. The necessary compromise…

  His gaze shifted from the road to linger in all the places she wanted him to put his hands, and for a second he lost the mask of indifference he wore so often. Naked desire showed on his face, riveting, hot. The sheer intensity caused her nipples to strain against her shirt. He made a liar out of her—that easily. She did want him to touch her. She just couldn’t settle for one last night.

  Finally, he met her eyes. “You want to make love to me as badly as I want to make love to you.”

  She shook her head. She’d already spent six years with Manuel, longing for more than he was capable of. “Not if your body is all you’re willing to give me.”

  He drove in silence for several minutes. “I thought you were going to take up sleeping with any man you wanted,” he said at last.

  “That doesn’t apply to you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because with you, I couldn’t smile and wave when you drove away.”

  “We’ve only known each other a week,” he said, but there was more incredulity in those words than anything else.

  Her chest filled with a bittersweet ache as she looked at the man she knew she’d dream about for years. “But I’m already in love with you.”

  PRESTON SAT in the Jacuzzi, hoping Emma would be asleep when he returned to the room. He’d managed to find a brand-new motel in Cedar Rapids that had two bedrooms and a small kitchen area, and was available for rent by the week—or would be soon. The motel wasn’t officially open for business until next week. They’d happened to catch the owner just as they pulled in, and Preston had talked him into letting them stay. He didn’t care about the furniture that still needed to be moved into the lobby, or the doors and trim the owner planned to paint. His only concern was that Emma and Max would have a good roof over their heads, even if they didn’t rent a house right away.

  He felt confident that he’d found the ideal situation for them. But getting through this last night wasn’t going to be easy. Now that they had two bedrooms, he and Emma could have some real privacy—and a bed—if they wanted it. And Preston couldn’t go in there without wanting it.

  I’m
already in love with you.

  He rubbed his temples. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Emma’s declaration. Surprised, excited, torn, even scared. He’d distanced himself from others too long for “I’m in love with you” not to make him nervous. He cared about her, knew she was right when she said he could care a lot more if only he’d let himself. But he couldn’t. He was only days away from the moment that would define the rest of his life.

  For the first time in a long while, Preston felt like having a cigarette.

  Getting out of the water, he searched the pockets of the jeans he’d thrown on a nearby chair and came up with the keys to his van. He’d forget Emma and Max once he spent some time away from them, he promised himself. He’d ignore, forget, deny. He’d gotten damn good at shutting people out, hadn’t he?

  But when he returned with his cigarettes, he found Emma sitting in the Jacuzzi—and wasn’t capable of ignoring her.

  She said nothing as he passed through the gate. Because the Jacuzzi suddenly seemed very small, he took a chair near a white plastic table. “I guess you didn’t see the sign,” he said, striking a match.

  “What sign?”

  He shook out the match and tossed it in a clean ashtray on the table. “Pool area’s closed for the night.” He wanted Emma to go back inside. He’d come here to avoid her.

  She shrugged. “There’s no one around to kick me out.”

  He inhaled, released his breath. “There’s me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  Did it matter if he was afraid of her? Of the pain he’d feel when he walked away in the morning?

  He tried to concentrate on his cigarette. “Max is in the room?”

  “He’s out for the night.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe to leave him?”

  “What do you care?” she challenged.

  He flicked his ashes off to the side. “I can see you’re still in a good mood.”

  She sighed. “Our room’s less than ten feet away. I wouldn’t be much closer if I was watching TV.”

  Squinting through the smoke rising from his cigarette, he saw a bead of water roll down her neck and between her breasts….

  “You’re staring,” she said.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You want me to stare. That’s why you came out here, isn’t it? To show me what I’m missing?”

  She reached for the tie to her swimsuit top. “If I was going to show you what you’re missing, I probably wouldn’t be wearing this.” Pulling the string, she unfastened it.

  Preston’s mouth went dry as he watched her top fall to reveal the breasts he’d fondled last night. He wished he could act as though the sight didn’t knock the breath right out of him, but it wasn’t any use pretending. “Turning up the heat a little?” he said.

  “Is it working?”

  He didn’t answer. She had to know it was.

  She slid lower in the water, but not low enough that he couldn’t see what he so badly wanted to touch. “Actually, I came out to say goodbye. Just in case you weren’t planning on being here in the morning.”

  The water bubbled around her, coaxing him to join her. To free himself from the past. To move on….

  But Dallas wouldn’t let him.

  He leaned over, elbows on his knees, and finished his cigarette.

  “That would hurt Max, you know,” she said, her tone softening. “He’s crazy about you.”

  Preston closed his eyes and ran two fingers over his eyebrows. Preston, watch me spell bear…. Hey, I can take my shot in my leg now! Doesn’t hurt at all, see?…I drew you another picture…. Feel my muscles….

  “You’d never do that to him, would you?” she said. “You’d never leave without saying goodbye.”

  He didn’t open his eyes. “Make sure he keeps up with his baseball. He’s got real talent.”

  It wasn’t the promise she wanted, but Preston wasn’t sure he could say goodbye to Max.

  She immediately got out, grabbed her swimsuit top and headed past him, toward the gate. Preston could tell she was upset and told himself to let her go. But his hand shot out at the last second and caught her wrist. “Emma…”

  She stopped, but resisted when he tried to pull her closer.

  “Please?”

  She struggled with herself for several seconds—he could see the conflict in her face. But, at long last, she moved between his knees, and he pressed his mouth against the heated skin of her stomach. He knew she wanted him to lower his defenses, tell her about the battles he was fighting, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t hear her say all the things Christy and his mother had already said. Didn’t want her to doubt him—because he couldn’t change his course, even for her.

  “Preston?” she said uncertainly.

  He tried to open up, to trust her. But he could manage only four words: “I need you tonight.”

  EMMA KNEW she should gently extricate herself and walk away. He hadn’t said he’d stay. He hadn’t told her what was going on in his life. He hadn’t said much of anything. But the four words he had said sounded as if they’d been wrenched from him.

  Running her fingers through his hair, she tried to offer what solace she could. But she wouldn’t tell him she loved him. Not again. She knew it wouldn’t make any difference.

  “Let’s go inside,” he whispered, taking her hand. But she didn’t want to. Inside, she’d be too conscious of what would happen in the morning. Out here, beneath a pale sliver of moon and a blanket of shiny stars, she could pretend that tonight would last forever.

  “I want to make love in the Jacuzzi,” she said, and the next thing she knew, their swimsuits were gone, the hot water was rising and falling around them, and all she could think about, all she could feel, was Preston.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “MOMMY!”

  Emma opened her eyes to find Max standing at her bedside.

  “Preston’s gone.”

  She already knew that. She’d felt him get up a few minutes earlier. He’d smoothed the hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to her temple. She could have awakened fully, but she hadn’t. She didn’t want to see him go. She wanted to hold last night close, just a little longer.

  But it was gone. It had slipped away with him.

  “Did he tell you goodbye?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “He woke you up?”

  “No, I was up.”

  Probably not. But at least Preston hadn’t simply disappeared. “Did he say anything else?”

  “To be a good beast.”

  “You are a good beast.”

  Max frowned. “Isn’t he coming back, Mommy?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What about baseball? He’s my coach.”

  Emma kissed her son’s soft cheek. For years she’d longed for a life that was just the two of them. Then why did she feel so incomplete without Preston? She was in Iowa now. She needed to search for a job, find a house, start her new life. Yet she could hardly summon the energy to get out of bed.

  “Maybe his plans will change,” she said.

  “Where did he go?”

  Emma couldn’t face Max’s questions. Not while she felt so bereft. “Want to go swimming?” she asked to distract him.

  He perked up immediately. “Yeah!”

  “First we’ll have doughnuts for breakfast.”

  His smile widened. “Is this a party?”

  Sort of a consolation prize. “If you’re going swimming, you’ll need the extra energy, right?”

  Clapping his hands, he ran for his swimsuit. While he was gone, Emma let her eyes wander around the room. No computer. No duffel bag. No cell phone—

  Her gaze shifted back to the dresser. There was something there.

  Dragging herself out of bed, she moved closer. It was a small bottle of perfume. A gift. And it was sitting on an envelope that contained five-thousand dollars. On the outside, Preston had written “Buy yourself a car.” Below that, he’d scribbled his telephone number.


  She smiled as she held the perfume to her nose and breathed in the delicate scent. At least he’d given her a way to get hold of him.

  She picked up the phone, wanting to hear his voice, even though he’d just left. But there was no dial tone. The motel didn’t have telephone service yet, but it would in a few days. Maybe goodbye wasn’t goodbye after all.

  JOANIE HAD BEEN cool and distant on the phone but she’d agreed to meet Preston for breakfast. He thought he had a chance of getting her to talk. She probably still cared about Christy. But as he waited for her to join him at the coffee shop she’d suggested, he was thinking more about the recent past. Emma would be up by now giving Max his insulin—

  “Preston?”

  He glanced up to see a woman standing at his table. It was Joanie, but if she hadn’t spoken, he wouldn’t have recognized her. She’d gained at least a hundred pounds. Her hands and feet were swollen. Even her face…

  “You’ve changed the color of your hair,” he said, to cover his surprise. He started to get up, but she waved him back into his seat.

  “You don’t have to stand. I know we’re not friends anymore.”

  Grimacing, she maneuvered herself into the opposite seat. “You had to get a booth?”

  He hadn’t known she’d struggle to fit. “I—Would you rather move to a table?”

  “No, we’ll make do. And you can’t hide your shock so don’t even try.”

  “I’m just…”

  “Wondering what the hell happened to me?”

  Yes—to say the least. He cleared his throat. “Are you…ill?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s called pregnancy, okay? Weight gain. Water retention. I’m borderline toxemic, which means I swell. Believe it or not, today is one of my better days.” She dabbed at a drop of sweat rolling down from her hairline. “God, I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”

  He could see why. “Is it Vince’s baby?”

  She gave him an odd look. “Of course.”

  “When’s the baby due?”

  “Six weeks.”