SING ME HOME (Love Finds A Home - Book One)

by Jerri Corgiat

  “Lil, we need to talk.”

  His words were whispered. Her hands were cold. She gripped them together and chewed her lower lip.

  He cleared his throat. “Last night—”

  Quickly, she knelt, a hand on his thigh, fingertips on his lips. “I don’t blame you for feeling frustrated. I haven’t been fair. I’ve held on to the past with one hand and you with the other. After you left last night, I put Robbie’s picture away. Forever. He was a wonderful man, and I loved him, but he belongs to a different time in my life. But you—you belong right here with me now and in the future and —” She took a deep breath, and trailed her hand from his lips down his unshaven cheek. “I love you, Jon.”

  Under her palm, his muscles twitched. He grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away.

  She balanced on her heels, her gaze darting over his face. “I want to go to Nashville with you. I’m still not sure I’ll like it, but I can try. We’ll put the children in school there and see what they think before we—”

  “Hell, babe. Let’s give this a little more thought.” She blinked. Those tiger eyes gleamed with amusement, and he raised his eyebrows. “Moving a little fast there, aren’t you?”

  “I thought—” Hurt blossomed in her belly. Abruptly, she stood. She thought he reached for her, but he’d only moved to lock his hands behind his head. “I know you never said it, but—” She hugged herself. Her pain was alive, pulsing at her from all directions. Jon’s smile didn’t change, although his complexion had taken on a sickly hue. She couldn’t look at him and instead moved toward the window. “You know,” she said, straining to keep her tone conversational, “For the past few nights, when I’ve listened to you try to convince me to go with you to Tennessee, I’ve wondered if you weren’t trying to convince yourself. You’re used to a different kind of woman, someone with more glamour, more experience—” To her horror, her voice broke. She breathed deeply, then continued, “I mean, the women you dated before me are more cosmopolitan.”

  He cursed. “Don’t you ever think you’re not good enough for me.”

  His voice held such vehemence, she turned in surprise. His chin had jutted forward but when he met her eyes, he relaxed back into the cradle of his hands and that idiot grin. He shrugged. “Because you are. Good enough, I mean.”

  She tried to smile. “Don’t. I knew this probably wouldn’t work, but I let myself believe…just what I was afraid Mari would believe. I guess I’m not as smart as I think.”

  He just stared at her, grinning like a dope. She lowered her eyes, then frowned. One of his fists clenched and unclenched on a fold of his jeans. His gaze followed hers. He stopped, once again folded his hands behind his head.

  She narrowed her eyes. “But could you explain it to me? So I’ll understand.”

  “Hell, it’s been a good run, babe, and we’ve had some good times. You’re great, really, but I guess I just need a little more variety in my life.” He laughed. “Just not a one-woman man. Hey, consider yourself lucky we’re ending it so soon. You’re better off without me, you know. Last night wasn’t an exception. More like the rule.”

  Why did he keep calling her babe? “Then Seamus was right about Belinda and you?”

  His grin broadened. “Why, sure. Babe, last night while you were dreaming your sweet little dreams—” For a moment, the grin slipped. “I was shacked up with Belinda.”

  She didn’t believe him. Red crept up his face. His grin was forced. She frowned, looked again at his hands. Fingers twisting, they worried at something. She focused. Their wedding ring. Abruptly, he slipped the ring into his pocket.

  She continued to study him. He raised his eyebrows in a “what?” gesture.

  “You’re not telling me everything,” she said slowly. “I know you. I know you loathe Belinda, and I know you care for me. This”—she motioned at him—“isn’t you.”

  He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his thighs, letting his hands dangle between his knees. She could almost feel the effort he made to hold himself still. “Quit dreaming, babe. I’m not lying.”

  “Then, tell me why.”

  “Dunno. Boredom, maybe. Drunk, maybe.”

  “I want a real reason.”

  “They are real reasons. Too much like my old man, maybe.”

  She sighed. The man was a numbskull. “Jon, I love you. I’m not Belinda, I’m not your mother. And you aren’t your father. Don’t do this. We had a fight. Lots of people have fights. It hurt, yes, but it’s not going to kill me if we argue. Don’t throw away what we have because you think I can’t take whatever you dish out. I know your past, I know what you’re like now, I know you—and I’m a big girl. I get to make my own decisions; you don’t get to make them for me.”

  He pulled in a breath. “I. Spent. The night. With. Belinda.”

  Despite the false smile, she saw the honest agony in his eyes. Reason fell away and her heart clutched. Pain almost doubled her over. “You did.” Bewildered, she shook her head. “You really did.”

  He shuddered, then relaxed. “Got that right, babe.”

  Of all the scenarios she’d imagined during her sleepless night, she’d never in her wildest fantasies thought he’d ever, ever turn to another woman. Especially not that woman. She thought she might shatter into a million pieces, but she wasn’t going to let him see it. “Why, Jon? Why? Were you so frigging afraid you’d screw up eventually, you decided you might as well screw up now? You damn idiot!” But even as she made the accusation, she knew it rang false. He might have problems with self-worth, but he wouldn’t have slept with Belinda to break them up. They’d been happy. He’d been happy.

  For a moment, the grin dropped. She hurried on. “I’m not going to let you destroy us. No matter what you’ve done. Part of this is my fault.”

  Pain razored across his face, then the smirk was back. “Let’s just call it a day, babe.”

  “Stop it! Just, stop it! Stop acting like some—some moronic egomaniac, quit calling me babe and talk to me.”

  “Nah. You always talk enough for the both of us. Babe.”

  She stared at him. She’d seen that single-minded determination before in his work. It was the reason for his success. It chilled her the same ambition could sound the death knell of their love. Resignation engulfed her. “Then leave. Just leave.”

  He winced, but the grin stayed. “Well, sure. But first we need to think about the kids.”

  Her heart settled like a stone in the pit of her stomach. She suddenly knew, with perfect clarity, exactly what she had to do. “I can’t do this anymore. Release me from the contract.”

  His face went white. She’d succeeded in wiping the smirk off his face, and the Jon she knew finally surfaced. She felt hope.

  “Are you— Are you saying you want the kids out of here?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “But you know how Mel feels about you. And Michael—” His voice shook. “Hell, they both love you, more than they ever loved their own mother.” He swore. “If you make them leave, it’ll kill them. They’d end up back with Belinda. Don’t do this. We can go on like we did at the very beginning before—before­­—”

  “Before you decided you didn’t deserve me. Tell me the truth, Jon. Tell me the truth about how you really feel, what really happened, and nothing changes.” Jon’s lips tightened in a stubborn line. She wanted to throttle him. If her threat hadn’t reached him, what would? “Listen to me! After Robbie died, I told myself I’d had my one big shot at happiness, my one true love. When he died, I thought my turn was over, and now I had to sit out the dance. Mari tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen. Then, when you and the children came along, I thought maybe there was such a thing as second chances. Why not? You’d done it with the band. You were doing it with your children. It’s you that taught me I could have a future, that I had choices, that I could feel and laugh and love. And I want to do that with you.”

  “Oh, God, Lil.” Love glowed in his face. She’d known something was of
f here. She almost melted with relief as Jon reached for her. “Ah, Lil, you can do it with—”

  He halted as Melanie appeared in the doorway, twisting a pair of gloves in her hands.

  Jon’s face shuttered.

  Lil almost snapped in frustration. “Melanie. Honey. I thought you were with Grandma Zinnia.”

  Mel advanced a couple of steps, looking uncertainly between him and Lil. “They dropped me off because my clothes got wet. She said to bring me back over after I change. Both you and Daddy are supposed to come.” She looked up at Lil, tears trembling on the ends of her lashes. “Don’t say we have to leave, Lil. Please don’t. I promise we’ll be good. And Daddy will be good, too, won’t you, Daddy?” She turned to him and her voice escalated. “Promise her. Promise her right now, Daddy. Please.”

  Lil looked at him, willing him to finish what he’d started to say, but he avoided her eyes and went down on one knee in front of Melanie. He hugged her stiff body. “Baby, I’ve done some wrong things and Lil has a right to be mad. But no matter what you heard, remember I love you with all my heart—and so does Lil. Right, Lil?”

  Hope fading, Lil turned away.

  Jon’s voice turned desperate. “Everything’ll be okay, baby. You’ll see. Lil and I will talk about—”

  “No!” Mel cried.

  At the agony in that single word, Lil turned back, clenching her arms.

  “No, no, no!” Mel pushed her fists against his shoulders and tried to shove away.

  He grunted and hung onto her squirming body. “Slow down, baby, slow down.”

  “I won’t!” She broke free, chest heaving, cheeks slick with tears. “It’s just like before, just like with you and Mommy. You said all the same things then and it wasn’t all right. You sent Michael and me away to that stuffy old house—with her. And she was mean to us. And we never saw you. And you—” Her wild-eyed gaze whipped to Lil. “You said you’d never leave me. You said. You promised.”

  Her ploy had almost worked with Jon, but she couldn’t pursue it in front of Melanie. Of course, she’d never make them go. She’d never intended to even as she’d told Jon she would. “Oh, Melanie.” Lil reached for her, but Melanie backed away.

  “No! I don’t want you anymore. I hate you! I hate both of you!” Swinging around, she ran down the hallway and slammed her door.

  Lil’s gaze followed her, then she looked back at Jon.

  He looked away but said, “I’m holding you to our agreement. For their sakes.”

  Not knowing what else she could do, she sagged into a chair. They stayed silent through long beats of silence, then Jon rose and picked up his jacket.

  As he shrugged into it, she tipped up her chin. “So, I guess we just go back to the same arrangement we had before.”

  She tried to be matter-of-fact. Grief etched the lines around his eyes. She wanted to be angry but ached to comfort him. God help her, she could forgive him Belinda. She could get over the hurt. She didn’t want to give up. But his jaw was set, his expression implacable. Nothing she could say would save him from himself or save them from him. Damn him!

  She continued. “I’ll stay with the children here, and you’ll be on the road. Of course, you’ll need to make other arrangements when you come visit. Or maybe we can send them to you in Nashville. That might be easier on all of us.” She felt a sudden blaze of anger. “I’m doing this for the children. Only for the children.”

  He hung his head but kept his eyes fixed on his fingers as he fumbled with the zipper on his jacket. In moments, he’d leave. Forever. She wanted to run to him, hang onto his sleeve, beg him to stay. He finally turned his head, and their eyes locked. Silently, she implored him to stay, gathered all the love in her heart and poured it into her eyes.

  He finished zipping. “If you’ll get my things, I’ll clear on out of Cordelia tomorrow. And once the custody hearing’s over, we’ll take it slow and easy with the kids, then see about a quiet divorce a ways down the road.”

  She dragged herself to her feet and walked stiffly down the hall to collect his belongings. When she returned, she wordlessly handed him the duffel bag.

  He slung it over his shoulder. “Roy can come get the Mercedes and anything I might have left tomorrow. I’ll keep in touch, babe.”

  The door closed, and Lil watched him back the car out of the drive. Then, pushing her shoulders erect, she went to talk to Melanie.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  THE NEXT DAY was as cold and bleak as the last. If it weren’t for Melanie and Michael, Lil wouldn’t have summoned the energy to leave her bed. Yesterday, she’d made a phone call to her mother. She’d asked if Mari could watch the children this afternoon and briefly told her Jon was gone. She’d omitted the details and had avoided Zinnia’s shocked questions by claiming Melanie was summoning her. Which was a laugh. After Jon had left, Melanie had refused to talk at all.

  Woodenly, Lil readied Michael for another day of sledding. She told him Daddy needed to leave “on business,” and he met the news with a shrug, then demanded to know if Aunt Mari would take him for ice cream.

  Once Michael was dressed, she tried again to rouse Melanie. Melanie answered with a vehement “Go away!” Unable to invoke the firmness to overcome the child’s resistance, Lil gave up. She shuffled down the hall and into the kitchen.

  Roy was waiting, sadness wreathing his normally taciturn face. “Jon called. Asked me to meet him at the Sleep Inn, take him to the airport. He wants me to bring the kids to say good-bye.” He paused. “I won’t do any of it, if you tell me not to.”

  She gave him a half smile. “Thank you, but, go ahead and do what he asked. Take Michael and drop him off at Mother’s after. I can’t get Mel to leave her room.” Her smile slipped. “Tell Jon I tried.”

  His mouth tightened. “Will do. I’ll take the Escort, and we’ll get the cars sorted out later.” He hesitated. “You’ll be okay?”

  She almost wept on his broad shoulders but only nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  After Michael and Roy left, she dallied for a while in the kitchen, then left her chores unfinished. She had to face Melanie, whether the child was willing or not.

  She rattled Melanie’s doorknob. “Let me in. It’s time we talked.” Her voice brooked no nonsense, but only silence met her. “Melanie!” She jiggled the knob again. “This is silly. You can’t lock me out. I have a key.”

  Still no answer. Sighing, she fetched the tool that would pop the lock. When she returned and opened the door, an icy draft struck her from the open window.

  Melanie was gone.

  “Melanie!” When Roy and Michael had left, she’d forgotten to reset the alarm.

  Her wild gaze swept the room and landed on a piece of notepaper. She snatched it up. Penned in Melanie’s neat hand was one sentence: I’m finding a new home!!!

  “Oh, Melanie.” She scrunched the paper in her fist.

  If Melanie had left right after Roy and Michael, she had a good head start. Lil ran from the room and grabbed the phone in the kitchen. She tried Roy’s cell, then Jon’s. Both were off. She hung up and dialed her mother. Roy had just left after dropping off Michael. After a garbled conversation with Zinnia—“Don’t you worry none, honeybunch, I’ll call the sheriff myself”—Lil snatched up her coat and ran out the door, not certain which direction to go.

  “Melanie!” she called. The wind swallowed her voice. She traced Melanie’s footprints from the child’s window but lost them in the tracks made by the snow plow. She scanned the street, hoping for a glimpse of Melanie’s red pompom hat, but the road was empty—except for a battered, old Studebaker nosing its way toward her. She groaned. Just what she needed.

  The Studebaker crawled past the front of the house. Wart-nose’s face was blurred by the condensation on the windows. When God hands you a lemon…

  Arms waving, she ran toward him.

  Looking dumbfounded, Wart-nose halted and pumped down the window.

  “Will you help me?” She gripped the windowsill. He on
ly blinked. “Melanie—Jon’s daughter. She’s run away and I don’t have a car. Will you help me find her?”

  “Run away?”

  “Yes! Will you help me?”

  He leaned over and unlatched the passenger door. “Hop in.”

  Inside the car, the heater rattled with only small effect against the cold. She shivered and wrapped her coat tight, trying not to think of the consequences of giving such a prime scoop to a reporter, photographer, whatever he was.

  Wart-nose nudged the car into gear. “Where you think she’s headed?”

  Lil craned her neck, searching between houses. “I don’t know. Maybe to my mother’s. Or my sister-in-law’s.” God forbid Melanie would head toward the highway and take her chances on whoever came along. Surely she was smarter than that. Panic threatened to shred her reason. She shuddered, and Wart-nose glanced at her.

  “Hey. She’ll be okay. She’s a tough, little bird, that one. Smart as a whip, too.” He rolled the car around a corner in the direction of the town square. “From what I’ve seen today, she’d likely head over to your mom’s. It’s where her friends are, anyway.”

  Of course. He’d probably trailed after Michael and undoubtedly knew Daisy was already there. Although she had no reason to trust him, he sounded so calm and matter-of-fact, she was suddenly glad he’d showed up.

  She glanced at the camera on the floorboard, then scanned the snow-packed streets. Not many people were out. “Uh, I don’t know your name.”