On the Record- the Complete Collection

by Lee Winter

  “Lauren.” Catherine cleared her throat. “Yes. She’s been—”

  Meemaw clucked her tongue. “Not just my granddaughter.” She gave her a withering look. “You’re thinking with your head stuck in a bunker like you’re off to war. Think you’ve got your allies and your enemies all sorted. But haven’t you seen what’s right under your nose?”

  Catherine didn’t need to look. She appreciated the sentiment, of course. Oh, Meemaw meant well, but the Kings weren’t the people she needed. The truth was she had nothing in common with them and everyone knew it but was far too polite to say. Not that it mattered, anyway, because aside from Lauren, Catherine didn’t need anyone.

  What a depressing little thought that was.

  “I’ll let you cogitate on that fur ball for a while.” Meemaw leaned across and patted her hand with finality. “Now, how’s about you go make that granddaughter of mine happy by putting in an appearance? And no protests. Because, honey, if I can tolerate that Travolta boy on repeat, you can, too. Come along.” She grabbed Catherine’s hand and tugged it.

  “I should warn you,” Catherine said as she rose, “I’m not really in the party mood.”

  “I know, honey. Neither am I. When you get to my age, parties feel like the Battle of Normandy, with all those flashing lights and loud noises. But don’t let anyone ruin your fun. You can torture yourself over that unworthy family of yours anytime but, see, tonight’s about celebrating getting to spend your life with Lauren. Don’t you let anyone take that away from you.”

  Catherine plastered on what she hoped counted as a convincing smile and stepped inside the workshop. All the cars were gone, the benches gleaming, and giant photocopies of posters from Grease were stuck up all over the wall. A booming soundtrack from the movie was on full blast.

  Right now, there was a lot of hip thrusting going on as the brothers, wearing matching leather jackets, belted out Greased Lighting. Suze was beside them, in badly fitting mechanic overalls rolled up halfway to her knees, windmilling an old yellow leather tool belt. She seemed to be swaying arrhythmically. And doing the lyrics for an entirely different song.

  Catherine had to give her props for staying standing while that plastered. She glanced up. Oh good. Mirror balls. Hanging from the fluorescent light fittings. Because that’s what truly adds class to a party.

  The song ended with a foot stomp, a hip swish, and a flourish, and Catherine almost slumped in relief for a break from the thudding.

  “Catherine!” Lauren bounded over. Her breath reeked of beer, and her eyes were too bright. “You came!” she added loudly. “And look who else did!” She waved her arm, and a tall, good-looking young man ambled over, his arm around the waist of a young blonde woman with candy-colored lipstick.

  “’Lo,” he said with a grin. “I’m Tommy, Laur’s youngest brother.”

  “Ah. I was starting to think you were a myth.” Catherine smiled.

  “This here’s Candice.” He gestured to his date.

  The girl offered her a toothy smile, her gaze dismissive as she turned back to coo at her boyfriend.

  “Hello,” Catherine managed.

  “Nick, her brother, is around here, too.” Tommy waved in the direction of a laughing, upside-down blond boy doing a handstand against the wall as his friends cheered.

  How very…flexible, Catherine thought.

  “Right then,” Tommy added, “we better go top up!” Tommy waved an empty, foam-dripping glass at her and wheeled away, Candice in his adoring slipstream.

  On his way to the bar, he slapped Nick on the stomach and laughed hard when the man’s shaky handstand crumpled into a heap amidst a bawdy roar of masculine cheers.

  Well. Tommy was obviously worth the wait.

  Catherine glanced at her fiancée. “Having fun?”

  “This is the best. And I’m so glad you came. So glad.” Lauren offered a happy sigh. “Hey, let me get you a drink. If anyone’s earned some hard liquor, it’s you.”

  She headed off to the bar before Catherine could answer. There was a crowd gathered around Owen who was playing bartender.

  “So you’re the one that she wants, ooh, ooh, oooh.” Suze sidled up, singing. She did a little thrust from the dance number as she finished.

  Catherine gave the faintest nod, acknowledging the butchered song lyric. “I am indeed.”

  “Well, that’s Lauren for you. She always did march to her own drum,” Suze said. “First walking away from softball… She had a national team tryout. But nope, not interested, ’cause journalism was calling. And now there’s you.”

  “Me?” Catherine folded her arms.

  “Mm. We all kind of assumed she’d wind up with an athlete. Some cool chick called Frankie with a crew cut and a mean fastball. Not someone…” She waved her hand over Catherine. “Elegant. Classy. From Boston.” She looked frankly astonished at that last one.

  “Boston’s what you’re most shocked by?” Catherine’s eyebrow tilted up.

  “Actually, yeah. Ha. You’re so…” She waggled her finger at her, then ran out of words. Or forgot them. She shrugged. “Can you tell me one thing? Why Lauren?”

  Catherine suppressed a sigh. Was she to be plagued with this question for the rest of her life? Between Lucas and Lauren questioning her choices, and now Suze, did she really seem such a poor match to the population of Iowa?

  “Why not Lauren?” She narrowed her eyes.

  That seemed to confound Suze. “Because you like her? You do like her, right? For who she is under that banging body? ’Cause, see, Lucas has been telling me this whole other theory.”

  “Oh?” Catherine lowered her voice to a notch just above dangerous.

  “He says you’re using her to feel young again. Then you’re gonna get bored, ditch her, and move on to the next hot thing. You’re, like, having a midlife crisis and only think you love her.” She tried to straighten up but only ended up wobbling. “I told him you’re too young for a crisis. Sorry, I’m a little buzzed. But just in case he’s not full of it, I have to say, as Laur’s best friend who has known her since grade school…” Her face turned to pleading. “Please don’t hurt her. She’s my favorite person on earth. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. You have to treat my girl right.”

  “I will.” Catherine’s dark thoughts shifted to Lucas. “It’s not Lauren I’d ever want to hurt.”

  A new song started, which perked up Suze. “Beauty School Dropout! Oooh. Gotta dance!” She gave Catherine a hearty slap on the shoulder and took off, adjusting the knot on the bright-blue handkerchief around her neck.

  Catherine’s gaze sought out Lucas, who was arm wrestling with one of his brothers. Her anger at the day she’d had was beginning to get the better of her. The awful music didn’t help. She was thoroughly out of sorts, enraged by her parents, and Lucas badmouthing her now was too much. She squared her shoulders, cutting through the crowd on a mission. People instinctively gave way at the sight of her.

  Whichever brother was arm wrestling Lucas slammed his arm onto the workbench.

  “You got lucky! Best of three!” Lucas shouted, rubbing his abused arm.

  “No, actually, I think he’s busy right now,” Catherine said, her voice like honey. She glanced at the other brother—John, she identified—and gave him a pointed look.

  He took the hint and scuttled into the crowd behind them.

  Lucas’s smug expression didn’t improve Catherine’s mood. He reminded her of her father—so damned superior.

  “You look about to take my head off,” he said, leaning an elbow on the high bench. “So, what’ve I done to piss off the millionaire?”

  “Not a millionaire.”

  “No? You know, I asked Lauren to show me a picture of your home. She showed me the one in LA first. That place in the Hollywood hills? You’re up to your eyeballs in money.”

  Sighing, Catherine d
ecided she couldn’t be bothered explaining the perfect storm of a tanking property market, a bankrupt film executive panic selling, and her generous new employment contract. “Are you one of those people who hate people with more money than you?”

  “Nah. I’m just not fond of liars or hypocrites. You act so superior and pretend you’ve had it hard, too. But all I see is some rich lady slumming it.”

  Catherine’s eyebrow slid up. “You think I’m slumming it with your family?”

  “Aren’t you? Come on, you look at our place like it’s Mars or something. You are so out of place. You know it. I know it.” He leaned forward. “You think my sister will ever be happy in that political swamp of DC long-term? This is where her roots are. Sooner or later, she’ll remember that, too. And when that day comes, you’ll toss her away. No way you’d ever move to Iowa for her.”

  “Lucas, your sister really enjoys her life in DC. She has no interest in returning to Iowa.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” she said with certainty.

  Lucas straightened to his full height and glared. “Then it’s your fault. You’ve been filling her head with such crap. I heard some of the shit you said about Iowa at the fair. You were a real bitch about it.”

  The prickling sensation. So, she had been watched. Her pulse quickened at the thought that her private comments intended only for Lauren’s entertainment had been overheard. “Well, aren’t you the charming little stalker.”

  “I went to get some food. I was only behind you for a minute, but hell, it was long enough.”

  “Ah, my secret’s out.” Catherine rolled her eyes. “So now you know the shocking truth. I have a sarcastic tongue and like to amuse my fiancée with it.”

  “It was more than that.” Confusion and hurt streaked across his face. “You made her laugh at us.”

  “Lucas, she wasn’t serious any more than I was.”

  “She wasn’t like this before she met you.”

  Catherine gave a mocking laugh. “Seriously? Lauren’s one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. If you think I could change her mind on anything she cares about—including who she loves and where she wants to live—then you really don’t know her.”

  Fear and fury warred in his eyes as his stare became hard. “You’re saying she’s never coming back here?”

  “Lucas.” She sighed. “What were her dreams as a girl? Do you remember? Did she talk about where she wanted to go, what she wanted to do? Deep down, you already know she’s where she wants to be. That’s why you’re so angry at me—because you can’t get angry at her.”

  Lucas’s eyes narrowed.

  “Lauren loves being in DC. With me,” Catherine continued. “And we’re a package deal. So what are you going to do with that knowledge? What’s your plan here? Because if you keep carrying on like I’m the enemy, it’ll only drive a wedge between you and your sister.”

  “I’m not the bad guy here,” he said. “I’m just protecting Lauren.”

  “Then prove it. Starting now. A truce.” She offered him her hand.

  He stared at it, the uncertainty clear in his eyes. Then his lips twisted. “I’m right about you. Sooner or later, she’ll see it, too.”

  Catherine had had enough. She dropped her hand in disdain. “Grow up, Lucas.”

  “Get fucked, Ayers.”

  “Hey!”

  They turned to see the widening eyes of Lauren, approaching from one side, holding two drinks.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Lauren glared at her brother, then slammed the glasses on the shelf next to him. “You did not just tell Catherine to get fucked.”

  His face fell at being caught.

  “Apologize! Shit, I mean it, Bro. What the hell!?”

  “She’s taking you for a ride.” Lucas’s eyes turned pleading. “I’m looking out for you.”

  “You’re looking out for me so much you just told my fiancée to get fucked.” Lauren’s gaze was hard, and she seemed instantly sober. She turned to Catherine and said in a low voice, “Please go back to the house. Consider this a reprieve from a party you hate. I’m truly sorry you had to put up with any of it.”

  Lucas looked triumphant at her dismissal, as though she’d picked sides.

  He was a fool.

  “And you,” Lauren said through gritted teeth, whacking her brother’s arm hard with the back of her hand, “will come with me. Now.”

  Chapter 20 –

  A Jar Full of Fireflies

  Lauren walked beside Lucas in silence toward her dreaming tree. Where else would she go to shake the chaos in her head? Someone in the background had turned the music up as the party kicked on, still in full swing.

  “Lauren—”

  “No.” Her voice was hard and low. She glanced up. It was another cloudless night, with the stars creating a bright canvas. It was so peaceful and beautiful, yet her gut was churning.

  They reached the tree, and Lauren turned on him. “That was the rudest thing you’ve ever done.”

  “You heard it out of context.”

  “There’s no good context to explain that. Did I see her offer you her hand to shake? Before you said that?”

  Lucas was silent.

  “That’s what I thought. How long’s this been going on? Have you been pissing her off since we got here? Attacking her every time my back’s turned?”

  “What the hell do you see in her?” Lucas exploded. “She’s cold, mean, and bitchy. You need someone who—”

  “No! You don’t get to tell me who’s right for me.” Lauren stabbed her finger in his chest. “Not now. Not ever. Look, can we just cut the crap and put it all out in the open?”

  That clearly stymied him. He peered at her. “Whaddya mean?”

  “It’s not about Catherine at all. It’s about Mom.”

  Lucas’s headshake was so adamant, it was a blur. “No fucking way. Look, I know you half raised me when she died, but that just makes me more protective of you now. I just—”

  “Don’t bother.” She glared. “Who I choose to spend my life with has nothing to do with you. Nothing.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt you, I swear.” His tone was beseeching. “It’s just no one else can see it. I don’t want you to get hurt, but Ayers isn’t good or kind or decent. God, she’s nothing like the woman I figured you’d end up with.”

  “The woman you’ll end up with, you mean.” Lauren gave him a considering look. “In other words, she’s not some idealized version of Mom.” She shook her head. “I know you can’t see it, but Catherine is decent, good, and kind, too, even if she doesn’t wear her softer side on her sleeve. But that’s irrelevant right now. Your attitude stinks. I won’t have you wading in, acting like you’re saving me from myself. You’re not the hero in this scenario. I promise you, Lucas, do not make me choose between you two. It’d end badly.”

  His face creased into shock.

  “Come on, you had to know that. I love you, but Catherine’s my life.” Lauren’s face turned grim. “And don’t think for a moment I’m ready to forgive you trying to mess that up for me. You crossed a big line tonight.”

  He stared out over the dark-grassed area.

  Lauren gazed out along with him. She followed a firefly dancing at the edge of the lawn.

  “Remember when we were kids, and I used to collect those?” Lucas murmured. “Put them in jars, hang them from trees? Well, only when I was apologizing for something stupid I’d done. A ‘sorry’ note stuck to it. I’d go and hide until you saw it and forgave me.”

  “And I always did.” Lauren remembered those days. Simpler times. The worst thing he’d ever done was sneak out with her old bike, then accidentally pile drive it into the creek. Trying to ruin her relationship was a lot harder to forgive. “You were lucky you were so hard to stay mad at as a kid.” She hard
ened her expression. “But we’re not kids anymore.”

  Lucas turned to her. “Sometimes I wish we were.” He spread out his hands. “All together like before. I miss that. Those were good times. The best.”

  “I don’t miss them at all.”

  He stared at her. His mouth fell open. “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t have the childhood you did. I was the eldest. I had to step up and look out for you boys. I was barely hanging in there some days. I was trying to grieve but also be strong. Some days it was so damn hard keeping it all together. It got better when Meemaw moved in after Grandpa died, but even then it was still so damned hard.”

  “I remember you playing with us all the time and teaching us stuff.” He looked shocked. “Were you really just sad every day?”

  “Of course not. But there were many days I didn’t want to get out of bed. You were so young, you only saw what you wanted to. Problem is, Lucas, I think you’ve been spoiled. We’ve all protected you because of how hard you especially took Mom dying. But now you seem to still expect the world to revolve around your feelings. Tonight I’ve never been so disappointed in you. Truth is, I’m not sure I even want you at my wedding.”

  “What?” He gasped.

  “A wedding’s for people who want the best for the couple. And Catherine’s what’s best for me. So if you can’t get behind me and her one hundred percent, don’t bother showing up. I don’t want you there.”

  “Laur!” Hurt lanced across his face.

  “Come on,” she snapped. “Don’t act like the victim.” Lauren pointed at him. “You did this. It’s one thing to screw up with me, but you deliberately hurt someone I love. That’ll never sit right with me.”

  “Never?” He blinked at her. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I said it, didn’t I? Look, just…stay out of my way for the rest of the week, okay? And leave Catherine the hell alone for good, or we’re done forever. I mean it. Got it?”