Rolling in the Deep

by Rebecca Rogers Maher

  “Beth.”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “Enough. Get dressed and go over to Brett’s.”

  I sit on the edge of the pool and stare at her. “What are you going to do while I’m there?”

  “Honey, look at all this.” She gestures widely at the mineral pool, the mountains. “I’m going to sit here and enjoy your money. I mean, shit, one of us has to.” She sinks back down into the pool. “Take my car. Keys are in the locker. You can pick me up on your way back.”

  “But—”

  She waves me off. “Bye, Holly. Have fun storming the castle.”

  —

  Brett spends his afternoons studying for the bar exam while Emma’s at the office. I know he’s home, and alone. Still, I sit in the car for a long time at the end of his driveway. I can’t make myself go up to the door.

  I picture knocking and Brett answering. The smug look on his face. And I just freeze.

  I’m afraid of him. That’s the bitter truth of it.

  I was barely an adult when I met him. And motherless—hell, fatherless, too. I let him step right in and make all the rules.

  All these years he’s been questioning my fitness as a mother, and I’ve resisted that, sure. Of course I have. But I’ve internalized it, too. I’ve been so scared of screwing up, of failing Drew, that I’ve labored under Brett’s criticisms, fearing they were true. Fearing that somehow he knew me more deeply than I knew myself. That there was some ugly, inadequate core I was hiding from that only Brett could clearly see.

  He told me I had put Drew in danger, and I believed him. And maybe he was right. Maybe I should have been more careful. But it wasn’t my fault the reporter came after us. It’s true that Drew’s face and the name of his school were exposed, but I can pay someone to guard him if it comes to that. I have enough money to do anything I want now.

  Beth is right. I was vulnerable before. Brett had more power than I did. But that’s not how it is anymore. It’s time for me to catch up and start acting like a person who has control over her life.

  I drive up and ring the doorbell.

  He answers in a swimsuit, with a towel around his neck. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  He stands, blocking the light from inside. “You’re lucky I heard the door. Just came in for some water.”

  “Are you going to let me in?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “You’re pretty demanding, aren’t you?”

  “Let me in the fucking door, Brett.”

  “Oh.” He steps aside. “This should be fun. By all means, come on in, Holly.”

  I follow him through the spartan, modern house and out to the sunny patio. In front of the pool is an intricate stone fire pit circled by chairs. I sit in one as Brett closes the doors to the inside, leaving a crack for Emma’s Chihuahua to come and go through. I see our reflection in the glass, surrounded on all sides by trees.

  Brett pulls up a chair beside me, sliding it a little too close. I can smell the sweat and chlorine on his body, and it’s nauseating.

  “So. What do you want, Holly? Don’t tell me you’re here to grovel. You know that’s not going to work. You’ve jeopardized my child, and I’m not about to listen to any of your sorry excuses about why.”

  I regard him steadily. “I’m not here to give you any.”

  “Well, there’s some refreshing news.” He crosses his arms, enjoying this. “What is it, then? You want to apologize? Not that that’s going to make things any better, but it sure would be a start.”

  “I’m not here to apologize either.”

  He sits back, legs spread wide. “I’m all ears, then. What could you possibly have to say to me after the stunt you pulled?”

  “I want Drew back.”

  He scoffs. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “It’s my week starting tomorrow. I’m going to pick him up from school like normal, and we’re going to go back to our normal schedule.”

  He leans forward, not smiling anymore. “Let me get this straight. You think you can waltz in here like there wasn’t a photograph in the fucking newspaper of you coming out of your apartment with that…that wetback boyfriend of yours, on the same page as a picture of my son exiting his school, and pretend nothing happened? I don’t think so, Holly. You don’t get to act like a slut and run Drew’s name through the dirt, and just get off scot-free. No.”

  “Is that what this is about?” I look him hard in the eyes. “About me having a boyfriend? Is that really what you can’t stand, Brett? That I could be happy with someone else? You have Emma. You’ve been married to her for four years. Why do you even care who I’m seen with?”

  He scrapes his chair forward, bumping into my knees. “You always were a little tramp, Holly, you know that? Why do you think I went for you in the first place? Easy lay—I could see that from a mile off. You liked to hide behind that nice-girl image, but I knew what you really were. You needed a man to take charge of you. I got that. Listen…”

  His voice shifts tone, and his hand goes to my knee. I’m too shocked to even recoil.

  “I know I was a little hard on you, okay? I can be harsher than I mean to be sometimes. But we had some good times, didn’t we? I mean, we had Drew. You don’t have to go running around with guys like that. You and me, we could get along again, if we wanted to. If we put our minds to it. Couldn’t we?”

  He squeezes my knee, and I’m paralyzed. I don’t know what to do.

  That’s when I hear the scrape at the door.

  Emma.

  I look up at her, at her frozen face, and my stomach takes a hard, sharp twist.

  I stand, dislodging Brett’s hand.

  “This isn’t—”

  “I know, Holly.” Her voice is very quiet. She’s not looking at me, I realize. Her eyes are locked with Brett’s, and he’s sitting there, shirtless and silent—caught.

  “Drew is inside,” Emma says to me. “Do you want to say hi?” She turns to me then, and the look on her face is something I wish I’d never had to see. It’s like looking in a mirror.

  “We’ll go back to the schedule tomorrow.” She glances at the chair where I was sitting. “Like you told Brett. You can pick Drew up from school, and we’ll try to keep this as normal for him as possible. Okay?”

  “Emma, I—” She’s heard everything. God almighty—she didn’t deserve any of that.

  She reaches for my hand, touches my fingers, and then lets go. “You don’t have to say anything. I knew it was bad. I just didn’t know it was…Well, anyway, maybe you could stay with Drew for a bit while Brett and I talk?”

  I nod. “Of course.”

  I start to walk inside, but Emma stops me. “Holly?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s going to be different now.”

  I give her what I hope is an encouraging smile. “Yes,” I say. “It is.”

  Then I go inside and find my son.

  Chapter 18

  Ray

  I’ve waited as long as I could for her. A full week, I think? It feels like a year.

  I don’t think I can wait any longer. I passed a couple of days going to car auctions and open houses. I saw a beautiful house in Rosendale with a big yard, and all I could think about was Holly planting a garden there.

  It’s been only a few months since I lost my mother. I said goodbye to everything I knew in the city and started again upstate, alone. I never expected to be given a chance at an entirely new life. A life with opportunities I never could have imagined for myself.

  It’s bittersweet without Mom here, but I can’t do anything to bring her back.

  I can do something about Holly, though.

  It hurts, how much I miss her. It’s not getting any easier.

  The time we had together wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to get to know her, not really. Or to get to know her child.

  I know I need to give her time. I can’t force her to risk being seen with me. But m
aybe at this time of night, after dark, when all the news vans have driven home—maybe for just a minute, I can talk to her.

  If things haven’t changed for her, if she still needs me to stay away, so be it. But I can’t let her go without telling her how I feel.

  I pull into the parking space in front of her door, and see her car there, with the lights on. She’s just sitting in the dark, headlights shining into her living room window. I flash my lights so I don’t startle her. Then I get out of my truck and go to her passenger’s-side door.

  She opens it, and I get in.

  “Hey.”

  She shuts off the headlights, and in the sudden darkness I can’t see her face. “Hi, Ray.”

  “I hope it’s okay that I came.”

  “Yes,” she says. Her voice is small.

  “Are you okay?” I turn toward her. My eyes begin to adjust, and I see that there are tears on her face. “Holly?”

  She stares straight ahead, not looking at me.

  “I made a mistake, Ray.”

  “I know,” I begin. “Both of us did. We should have been more quiet about it, maybe, but I just…I wanted…I just wanted to be with you, Holly.”

  “Me too.”

  “You did?”

  She turns toward me then. Her face is serious, and I’m scared to death. I’m so terrified in this moment, of losing her for good.

  “Yes, I wanted to be with you.”

  “But?”

  She reaches for my hand, and a thousand tiny fires spark to life all up and down my skin. “But nothing. I wanted to be with you, and I was too afraid to fight for it. But that’s over now.”

  “What?” My heart beats audibly in the small car. I feel it pulsing thickly against my chest.

  She brings my hand up to her lips. “I love you.”

  I breathe out. Hard, into the silence of the car. “Holly.”

  “I love you, Ray. I know it’s soon to say that, but what the hell? I’m a millionaire. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

  I huff out a laugh. “Multimillionaire.”

  “Right!” She laughs, too. “So, that means I can say I love you, like, multiple times.”

  “Do it again, then.”

  She smiles against my fingers. “I love you.”

  I pull her over, across the gearshift, onto my lap. So that she’s falling sideways into my arms.

  “Holly Ward?”

  She kisses my jawline, and sends a bolt of heat—of life—straight through me.

  “I love you, too.”

  Epilogue

  Holly

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  I stand on the deck of the Maid of the Mist in a raincoat, soaking wet, hair flying over my face. The boat edges steadily toward the Falls, gusting back in the wind and then pressing forward again. Into the mist. Into the force of the water.

  Drew holds my right hand. He’s shrieking with delight and terror, bouncing from side to side in his poncho. Ray is at my left.

  Drew and I started planning this trip the day he came back from his dad’s house. It helped him stay positive through Brett and Emma’s separation and eventual reconciliation. Considering the tumult, I waited awhile before I introduced him to Ray.

  It took about five minutes before they were engrossed in a game of Star Wars Legos. I didn’t see either of them for two hours.

  It was Drew’s idea to invite Ray to Niagara Falls. For weeks after we bought the tickets I’d find them whispering to each other about this boat ride. I thought it would be fun. I had no idea it would be so overwhelming.

  There’s a power in the Falls that’s hard to understand until you’re in them. An electric, elemental force that you can’t look away from or deny.

  And you don’t want to. All you want is to give yourself over to it. To believe just for this moment—to feel the good in the world, for as long you’re in it.

  Ray applied to the Culinary last month. He decided he wants to study restaurant management, with a concentration in farm-to-table cooking. Which will come in handy when we build a restaurant on the plot of land we bought next to the community garden. We’ll have to expand eventually, but for now, with the new staff we’ve hired, we have enough space to offer gardening classes to all the local public schools, for free.

  I work there full-time now, spending my days with kids, with my hands in the dirt. It’s not a very fancy dream, but it was mine. And it’s come true, for now.

  It could all go away at any time—I know that. It’s the nature of luck to come and go as it pleases. But for now, I have work I love. I have a house I bought for myself, with a creek in the back for Drew to play in. I have the satisfaction of having lent a financial hand to family, to friends, to my coworkers at Cogmans.

  And I have my son. I have Ray.

  He smiles into my squinting eyes now as the spray from the Falls pelts us all in our faces.

  I’m laughing—exhilarated, disoriented, alive—when he moves to stand in front of me. He takes my hand, and Drew’s hand, and Drew is smiling and jumping up and down, like he knows something.

  Ray has to yell to be heard above the roar of the Falls. “Holly!” he says.

  I don’t need him to say anything more when he goes down on one knee. I fall to my knees, too, and take Drew with me.

  “Yes.”

  And all of us surge forward into the mist.

  Dedicated to Melissa Johnson

  Acknowledgments

  Deep thanks to my editor, Shauna Summers, for giving me an amazing opportunity, trusting my voice, and helping me shape this story. Gina Wachtel and Matt Schwartz, associate publishers at Penguin Random House, thank you for your generous support. Thanks also to Amy Brosey and Pam Feinstein for diligent and thorough production editing and copyediting, and to Lynn Andreozzi for a truly beautiful cover. Thank you to Erica Seyfried, Ashleigh Heaton, and Alex Coumbis for marketing and publicity, and to Heidi Lily, Sarah Murphy, and Carrie Pestritto for your adept assistance. And of course, huge thanks to my agent, Becca Stumpf of Prospect Agency, for your invaluable expertise and advocacy.

  Heartfelt thanks to Agnès Angeles, Nadja Carneol, Kathy Carroll, Julie Fry, Heidi Goldleaf, Lisa Hinshaw, Anne Kadet, Rita Maher, Leah Nelson, Ilana Nowatzky-Bendet, and Tammy Rogers, for your love and encouragement.

  I am so grateful to my husband, Kevin Maher, beta reader of the century, loving friend, and super-parent to our children while I madly wrote this book. I’m also grateful to Melissa Johnson, who read the manuscript and pushed me to deepen it, and who provided critical feedback on cultural context and Spanish language dialogue. This book is dedicated to her, with gratitude for six years of discerning professional guidance and valued friendship.

  PHOTOGRAPH: SCOTT LEVIN

  REBECCA ROGERS MAHER writes realistic stories that push the boundaries of contemporary romance, uniting the genre’s love scenes and happy endings with the crisp, layered prose of literary fiction. In past lives, she’s been a teenage metalhead, a cleaner of lab-rat cages, a community organizer, and an urban schoolteacher.

  Rebecca lives in Brooklyn with her husband and children.

  rebeccarogersmaher.com

  Facebook.com/authorrebeccarogersmaher

  @RebeccaRMaher

  The Editor’s Corner

  Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November …wait, it is November, and Loveswept is releasing some of our best books of the year! Check out these fabulous romances:

  New York Times bestselling author Marquita Valentine releases her second new novel in her Boys of the South spin-off series, Take the Fall, with When We Fall, in which a small-town sweetheart takes a chance on the bad boy who’s always been her hottest fantasy. Another Loveswept New York Times bestselling author, Tracy Wolff, introduces her new Hotwired series with Accelerate, in which an unassuming passenger is taken for the ride of her life. New York Times bestselling author A. Meredith Walters releases a powerful romance akin to The Fault in Our Stars, with Butterfly Dreams. Then, welcome to Thistle
Bend! A charming series debut from Tracy March, Should’ve Said No introduces a small town where old secrets are revealed—and wounded hearts are opened to new love. And in a short novel, Rebecca Rogers Maher’s Rolling in the Deep, two kindred spirits share a winning lottery ticket—and discover what it really means to get lucky.

  Sports fans were introduced last month to the Aces Hockey series by Kelly Jamieson with Major Misconduct, and this month Jamieson releases a holiday romance, Off Limits. Book two in the Recovered Innocence series by Beth Yarnall features a San Diego investigative team with a soft spot for lost causes and a passion for redemption in Vindicate. And Taking It Off, by USA Today bestselling author Claire Kent introduces you to Matt Stokes, the sexy-as-sin male stripper and club owner who knows what it really means to bare everything. Jessica Lemmon’s irresistible Lost Boys series kicks off with Fighting for Devlin, the story of a good girl who plays by the rules—and the bad boy who brings out her wild side. And in Cecy Robson’s O’Brien Family series debut, two total opposites find that the flames of desire are still smoldering in Once Kissed.

  For historical romance fans, Sharon Cullen’s The Reluctant Duchess ignites as a shy country girl and a hotheaded duke surrender to dangerous temptations. Then it’s on to Scotland for USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Haymore’s Highland Knights and the first book in this new series, Highland Heat, an electrifying tale of class warfare, fierce loyalties, and forbidden love.

  I don’t want this month to end! But the good news is December is upon us, with more fabulous Loveswept titles. Until then…

  Happy Romance!

  Gina Wachtel

  Associate Publisher

  If Holly and Roy’s story won you over, you won’t want to miss what’s in store for Beth and Tony. Continue reading for a special sneak peek of the sensual and moving

  Just Give Me a Reason