A shutter tried to descend over his mind, just like it did every time he thought of his mother. He glanced down at the top of Lil’s head, and something loosened inside him. He drew in a breath, released it. “She gave up. She’d never been strong, although she tried. For me. But all the years of my old man’s beatings, lying and cheating were finally too much. One day I came home from school and…” His throat started to close.
He’d arrived home from school, knowing his dad had left that morning on one of the jobs he took between binges. He was excited about the B he’d gotten on a science project, bursting to tell his mother. Bs weren’t that common for him, plus he thought it might cheer her up. The fighting last night had been worse than usual, and this morning she’d still been in her housedress, eye bruised, when he’d left.
When he slammed through the door, he knew immediately something was wrong. Usually she prepared a snack and waited for him in the kitchen. Today, the kitchen was empty, no peanut butter cookies on the table, no Kool-Aid. The house was unnaturally still. He didn’t call out, somehow knowing there’d be no answer. Icy dread creeping over him, he dropped his report on the table, tiptoed to his parents’ bedroom. His mother had been stretched full-length on the bed, hands folded across the flowers on her housedress, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling.
He unconsciously tightened his grip on Lil; her hand had moved to his shoulder. She squeezed gently. “What happened?” she whispered.
“She was dead.” He cleared his throat. “She’d killed herself. Taken some pills. I couldn’t help her, couldn’t protect her.”
“Oh, Jon.” Lil’s head rose from his chest and she stared at him, reaching out to push the hair away from his face. It was a touch a mother would make. “You were only a child, just a baby yourself. You weren’t supposed to protect her. That was her job. To protect you.”
He wondered when his eyes had grown wet. How long had it been since he’d cried for his mother? Reaching down, he pulled Lil up and crushed her against him. Pliant, she molded herself to him, murmuring soft words, holding him tight. This time when they made love, it was slow and just right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
MID-MORNING Christmas Day, to the accompaniment of the children’s giggles and with the rest of her family and Roy crowded behind them, Jon led Lil out onto the porch. “Close your eyes. No peeking…”
Cold pinched her nose and snaked around her bare ankles. The purple sweatpants she’d borrowed from Zinnia were three sizes too big and four inches too short. She looked like a bag lady, but the way Jon was treating her made her feel like a queen.
She and Jon had made love most of the night, stopping only when he’d finally dozed off, exhausted from his exertions and jet lag. She hadn’t slept at all. She’d laid still, staring at the rafters, a sweet ache between her thighs. She’d listened to his rackety snore. And had wondered if she’d just made the worst mistake of her life. Unable to unknot her thoughts, she’d slipped out of bed and headed downstairs.
Although night still darkened the windows, Zinnia was already up, an apron appliqued with a big fat Santa tied around her waist. Accepting a cup of coffee, Lil helped her prepare cinnamon rolls, an egg casserole and hot chocolate. Zinnia chattered as they worked. Between comments about how surprised the children would be by the bicycles Jon had bought for each of them and last night’s excitement with Patsy Lee, she flashed Lil more than enough knowing grins to let Lil know she wasn’t unaware of her escapades between the sheets last night. When Lil would have fled, Zinnia pulled her into a hug.
“Lord love you, Lilac Elizabeth,” she said, stroking her hair. “You always make things so hard on yourself. He’s a good man. He’s got his heart in the right place, just needs a nudge here and there. You’re the woman who can do that.”
Before Lil could explain she knew that but didn’t really want to do it in Nashville or Los Angeles or London or wherever else Jon’s career took him, a herd of children’s feet pounded down the stairs followed by Lily’s tiny wail. Her mother bustled off to attend to Patsy Lee and the baby.
The activity roused Jon, who appeared in the kitchen all mussed and sleepy-eyed. At the rumpled, lovable sight of him, her heart melted, and she wordlessly followed the invitation of his open arms. She didn’t know what would become of them, or what she even wanted to become of them, but for now, this was enough.
All morning, he waited on her, bringing her hot chocolate, making sure an afghan was tucked around her as they sat side by side on the old sofa and watched the children exclaim over their presents. He took every opportunity to touch her—brushing a hand over her cheek, caressing the back of her neck, dropping a kiss on her lips. And each time their eyes met, his glowed with warmth or flared with desire, and she knew he was thinking about last night. He even exclaimed with delight, much more than warranted, over the guitar strap she’d cross-stitched for him in blazing stripes of neon blue and turquoise. Now it was her turn.…
“Open your eyes!”
She did—and gasped. A brand-new Mercedes, painted an amazing cobalt blue and tied with a bright red swath of cloth that wrapped into a bow on top, sat in the driveway behind Mari’s Volkswagen. “How… When…?”
“They delivered it this morning.” Jon leaped into the snow drifts and dragged her behind him, uncaring of the ice that filled the old mules she wore. “Like it? I figured that heap of yours was on its last legs. The blue matches your eyes. Custom paint. Look…”
He yanked open the door and pushed her into the leather cocoon, then dipped his head in. “It has a V-8 engine, can hit sixty in 6.3 seconds, about sixteen miles to the gallon…”
She placed both hands on the wheel, still in a state of shock. When Stan had purchased his Lexus, she’d heard more than she’d ever wanted to know about cars. With all the buttons and gadgets and instruments arrayed on the dash, she was sure the sticker price was staggering. She’d expected a present from him, sure, but not this.
“Mind you don’t get snow all over the inside.” Patsy Lee called to the children from the porch, Lily cradled in her arms.
Halfway between the porch and the driveway, Mari stood still as a post.
The kids ignored Patsy Lee, shoving aside the ribbon and filling the backseat with their chatter. Zinnia, Roy and Pop wandered around the sides, oohing with appreciation. A brand new car was a rarity in the O’Malley family. Especially a car like this.
She rubbed the smooth leather seat, then turned to look at Jon, who’d fallen silent.
“You like it, don’t you?” he asked.
“I love it. But, Jon, I don’t think—”
“Good, don’t think. Just take it, Lil. It’s a gift.”
“But, it’s so expensive.”
He laughed and shook his head, his long hair swinging. “Ever practical Lil. I can afford it. And I also expect you to let me drive it, every time I come home.”
Home… Did that mean…? She ran her hand over his cheek, and he angled his head to kiss her palm, his eyes locked on hers. A movement over his shoulder distracted her. Mari whipped around, her natty, red bathrobe swinging around her calves, and stomped back into the house.
“Oh, dear…”
Jon turned to follow her gaze. His voice hardened. “That’s enough of that. I’ll talk to her. Right now. Here—” He tossed the keys into her lap. “Take them all for a spin.”
“But—”
“The roads have been plowed and there’s nobody out. Just give me a few minutes. A couple trips around the square should do it.”
She reached for him, but he was already heading back to the house.
Zinnia settled herself into the passenger side and patted her arm. “Leave him be, Lilac Elizabeth. He knows what he’s doing. Now—” She dragged Rose and Michael onto her lap and tugged the seatbelt to its outer limits around them. “Not meeting safety standards, that’s for sure, but we’ll just be heading around the block.” She leaned out the window. “C’mon, everybody, cram on in. Lil’s going to
take us for a ride.”
***
The front parlor, littered with Christmas paper and mugs half-full of chocolate, was deserted, but from the kitchen came a clatter of pots and pans. Jon straightened his shoulders and headed toward the source of the rabble rousing.
There was a mighty thump.“Shit!”
He paused in the doorway. Mari hopped on one foot and held the other. A cast-iron skillet big as an arena lay on the floor.
She looked up. The Christmas bobbins she’d hung on her ears swayed in agitation. “What do you want?”
“To talk to you.” He yanked on a chair. “Sit.”
“If you haven’t noticed, the kitchen’s a mess, and I need to—”
“I said, sit.”
She gave him a slit-eyed look, then hobbled over and plopped down. “Well?”
He grabbed another chair and angled it so their knees almost touched. “We’ve got to talk about you and Lil. And this feud you’ve started.”
“I’m not feuding. And I didn’t start it. There’s nothing I have to say to you about Lil.”
He swore. “Your behavior, attitude, whatever you want to call it, hurts her and your family. Lil loves you. She didn’t do anything to y—”
“Lil didn’t do anything?” Her voice rose, and she shoved at her hair until it stood up in spikes. “As I recall, you and I had an agreement. Next thing I know, little Mother Teresa has elbowed me out of the way and taken my place. With all the best intentions, of course. Because, you know, her baby sister hasn’t the sense of a turkey and can’t be expected to keep her head in the presence of such a dazzling persona as you.”
“She didn’t elbow you out of the way—”
“What would you call it? Lil’s not stupid; she knew full well that if she landed you, she’d live in the lap of luxury, have her picture in the papers, get a Mercedes for Christmas, for God’s sake.”
“Is that really what you think is important to her?”
“Money’s important to everybody, Lil included. She saw her opportunity and grabbed it while I was too—too —”
“Too pie-eyed to notice?”
“That’s not fair! So, I’d had a few, so what? You can’t tell me you’ve never let your hair down before. I know. I’ve read everything written about you, and you used to be quite the party-boy yourself. You used to—”
“ ‘Used to’ is right. I stopped all that years ago. Even if Lil hadn’t been there that day, I’d already decided my deal with you wouldn’t fly.”
She stopped sputtering and stared at him. “But, why?”
“There was something about you that reminded me of Belinda.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel better.”
“Not the bad part of Belinda, the young Belinda. The Belinda I’d known before she got tangled up with me. I was afraid you couldn’t handle my life. That you’d end up like her.”
She studied him. “Why Lil, then? If you were being so chivalrous to protect me from my potential downfall, what made you decide Lil could handle it? I mean, from what I’ve seen today, the two of you aren’t exactly maintaining a virginal distance.”
Guilt stirred, then subsided. “Because Lil is level-headed. Because she’s sensible.” He looked at Mari for a long moment. “And, because from the first minute I saw her, she knocked my socks off.”
“Besides, Lil is—” Mari stopped. “You mean you love her?”
He averted his eyes. Since this morning he’d wavered between soaring elation and black despair. Yes, he loved her. Loved her with savage intensity. And last night, that love had driven him past caring she’d end up embroiled in a life she couldn’t handle and didn’t want. Somehow during their passion, he’d kept a fingernail hold on his sanity and had swallowed the words of love that had risen to his lips, afraid she’d expect more from him than he’d be able to give—but, more than that, terrified she wouldn’t say them back.
Mari slapped the table. “Great. That’s just great.” Her voice was flat. She stood up. “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have— Well, it probably doesn’t matter. Surely it doesn’t. I mean, if I can’t trust him, who can I trust?”
He wasn’t unused to Mari’s rapid-fire changes of subject, but this time he didn’t follow. “What are you talking about?”
She flicked a look at him as if she’d just remembered he was there. “Nothing. I mean, I don’t think it’s anything.”
The back door bounced open, and the family crowded into the kitchen, the children ignoring Patsy Lee’s entreaties to at least take off their shoes. Mari looked relieved at the interruption and took the opportunity to flee up the back stairs.
“Wow! That’s a cool car, Daddy.” Michael tugged on Rose. “Let’s go pretend we’re race cars. Va-room.” He revved up and sped into the parlor, dragging Rose along.
Daisy danced across the kitchen in their wake, followed by Melanie and Hank. “Awesome! The stereo system could just about bust your eardrums!”
“My head’s still rattling.” Zinnia slapped her slippers together and unleashed a cloud of snow. “You men just go on in the parlor, and I’ll bring you more hot chocolate.”
Lil came in last, dusting snow off her sweatpants. She looked up, met his gaze, and his heart swelled with love.
She stepped in front of him, fingering the car keys. “I shouldn’t accept such an expensive gift, and I’m sure I’ll look ridiculous in it, but…” She sighed. “You can’t make me give it back.”
Despite all the warnings he’d given himself, he couldn’t resist her. As Zinnia rattled a saucepan, he pulled her onto his lap. She tucked her head under his chin.
He let his cheek glide over her curls, inhaling her scent. “I’m glad you like it.”
She stirred. “It doesn’t look like your talk with Mari did much good.”
“Oh, I think it did.” He frowned, thinking of her rambling comments. “But there was something weird about—”
As Zinnia let loose a grin and thoughtfully turned her back, her hand crept up to cup his chin. He bent his head to hers and forgot all about Mari.
When they surfaced for air, Zinnia was sidling out of the room with a tray, still carefully keeping them at her back. He smiled and ran a finger over Lil’s lips. “Since you thanked me so nicely, I’ve got something else for you.”
“Don’t you think you’ve already given me enough? I mean, all I got for you was a silly guitar strap.”
“It wasn’t silly. It was sweet.” He smoothed out the line between her eyes, then eased her off his lap to dig into the pocket of the sweatpants she’d snagged from her dad. “I kinda miss my own clothes, you know?”
She smiled. “Lime green isn’t really you. We’ll go home after I’ve helped Mother clean up the mess. But we’re coming back for Christmas dinner. That is, if it’s okay with you.”
“I can think of a few other things I could do with my time. Think they’d settle for just Mel and Michael while we…” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and was enchanted at the faint blush that appeared on her cheeks. “Kidding. Of course, we’ll come back. I wouldn’t miss Christmas dinner at the O’Malley homestead.”
He unfolded the envelope he’d pulled from his pocket. “Here.”
“What’s this?” She took the envelope and tugged out the contents. She studied the paper. “The deed to our—I mean, your—lake property? But it’s in my name.” She raised her face, eyes rounded. “It belongs to me? But what about your money? The folks have already used it to—”
“Money well spent. It always belonged to you. There’s more.”
“More?” Hands trembling, Lil dipped back into the envelope, then unfolded a second piece of paper. “What’s this?”
“The deed to the building where Merry-Go-Read used to be.”
“But what— Why?”
“Figured that belonged to you, too. It’s a special place, you know—where we met. Couldn’t let it go to just anyone.”
She threw her arms around him, and he busied himself kissing t
hat angel face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE TEN DAYS between Christmas and Jon’s birthday on January fifth were the best days he could remember. They’d spent days hauling the children to the post-holiday sale at O’Neill’s Emporium, sharing pizza at Sin-Sational Ice Cream, and, when the streets dried for a few days, teaching Michael to ride the bike Jon had given him for Christmas.
They took the children hiking in the Ozark hills, ice-skated on the pond in Memorial Park, and built a snow fort in Lil’s parents’ front yard. On New Year’s Eve, they bundled up and watched the fireworks burst over Memorial Park Pond. For every activity, various members of Lil’s family joined them, Zinnia always ever ready with a thermos, jug or carafe of hot chocolate. He was heartily sick of the stuff, but he drank every drop she gave him.
In the evenings, they shared pot luck with Lil’s family and once dined with Alcea and Stan at the country club. But usually Lil fed them at home. He liked the home evenings best. Lil would curl up on one end of the sofa, her stockinged feet tucked under his leg, and read while he fiddled on the guitar and Mel and Michael played Go Fish or put puzzles together in front of the TV. Sometimes they’d gather around the piano. He and Lil would play, and everyone sang in mismatched harmony.
Days were good, bone-deep good, but, ah, the nights. Once the kids were tucked in and asleep, Lil would come to him in the double bed in her room. Her room was all her—whitewashed in the light from a street lamp, the floral scent she preferred perfuming the air. She usually wore one of her sedate nightgowns, which stayed on only as long as she was out of his reach. And once that nightgown was shed, they’d stream together in bursts of passion or eddies of tenderness.
Best of all, undoubtedly busy with their own holidays, the media left them alone. Only Wart-nose still dogged them, but they were used to him by now. Zinnia had pitied him shivering in a thin overcoat on the day they’d gone ice-skating and even offered him hot chocolate. Jon hadn’t minded. The photographer knew to keep his distance—and that was one less cup of the stuff to account for.
SING ME HOME (Love Finds A Home - Book One) Page 25