Lily sighed and leaned back against the wall. “It just feels like this whole thing is becoming a tangled web of lies. I haven’t lied this much in my whole life.” She gouged the tip of her fingers into her brow and gave a vicious rub. “This is just becoming so complicated.”
She felt rather than heard him shift closer. His heat burned through the soft material of her dress to singe her skin.
“It’s over,” he said gently. “The only thing they were sniffing around for was the identity of the father and now they have one. There’s nothing left.”
Lily lowered her hand and met his gaze. “Were you in there just now? They expect us to get married, because we’re in the sixties where women can’t have babies alone.”
“But you’re not alone.”
“That’s not the point!” Frustration had her temples throbbing.
“Hey.” He lightly took her shoulders into his hands and drew her to him. “What’s really bothering you?”
“Cole never called me back,” she confessed. “Not a single phone call, email, or text since we drove down to see him. It’s like he’s completely forgotten me and the last nineteen years of us being best friends.” She dropped her gaze to her feet. “I feel like I’m completely replaceable, worth nothing.”
Sloan’s face darkened. His fingers tightened. “Don’t say that!” He gave her a gentle shake. “It isn’t true. Let’s get you home. Then I’ll deal with him.”
Chapter Six ~ Sloan
Moving Lily into the house took one whole day. It took a second day to help her unpack and reorganize Cole’s old room. He hadn’t expected it to take very long, not a single, tiny bedroom, not when they had left her bed and dresser behind. Her entire world was a handful of boxes that held mainly photo albums. There were so many that Sloan wondered if she had a secret fetish he didn’t know about.
“I like taking pictures¸” she confessed when she caught him watching her line them along the bookshelf, the top of the dresser and stacked on the window seat.
It really didn’t surprise him; he remembered all too well the times she would run around the place, snapping pictures of everything in sight, including him. Then, one day, she just stopped.
“I hadn’t realized it was a hobby,” he said.
Lily shrugged as she traced a finger over the stitched daisies on the cover of one album. “It was just … nothing.”
But it was something. He could see it in the careful, almost tender way she handled each one, as though they were made of fine china. There was nothing careless about how she placed them.
Sloan flipped one open and was immediately assaulted by a carousel of colors and poses. Each page held four snapshot of various objects that had no connection, yet worked perfectly together in some strange way. There was one of a tulip bowing to a gust of summer breeze, a greasy wrench lying forgotten on pavement, a ladybug making her way across a brick wall and the picture of a hand, Lily’s hand, waving at the sky. There was no filter, no alterations. These pictures were randomly snapped for no reason except to immortalize them forever within the confines of her books. Yet they were beautiful, like poetry through pictures.
“Oh!” Lily caught him and she grimaced. “I actually don’t let anyone—”
“These are amazing,” he cut her off. “Why did you stop?”
“Um…” She sidestepped around several boxes and stopped in front of him. She took the album, closed it and set it aside. “No real reason. I guess I kind of outgrow the whole thing.”
The lie made him frown. Her avoidance of his gaze only intensified his curiosity.
“People who outgrow things, don’t usually keep so many souvenirs.”
She rubbed anxiously on her arm and turned away from him to dig through another box. “I just really don’t like throwing things away.”
Sloan didn’t push her. “I’m going to go get some work done,” he told her. “Don’t pick anything up that weighs more than a pillow. I’m just downstairs if you need help.”
Lily twisted her head around and glowered at him. “Seriously? A pillow?”
He pointed a warning finger at her. “I never joke about pillows!”
With that, he left her to finish.
Downstairs, he walked into his office and shut the door. He took a seat behind his desk and picked up the phone.
Karen Price picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
Sloan deliberated the wisdom of his decision for a whole second before deciding he would risk it.
“Hi, it’s Sloan.”
“Hi, Sloan! How’s the move going? Is Lily settling in okay?”
Sloan thought of the twenty boxes of photo albums and gave a shrug. “I think so. I actually had a question I was hoping you could answer.”
“Sure!”
He told her about the boxes, about the mindboggling number of photo albums and Lily’s reluctance to answer his questions.
“She says it’s nothing, but…”
Mrs. Price sighed. “I honestly don’t know what happened. Her father and I asked her about it, but she refuses to talk about it. Lily can keep a secret like nobody I know.”
“So you don’t know why she stopped?”
“Not a clue. She always took such beautiful pictures. I thought it was sad when her camera disappeared.”
Sloan frowned. “Disappeared?”
Mrs. Price chuckled. “I’m sure it didn’t disappear, exactly. That thing was superglued to her hand about ninety percent of the time. She loved it the way one loves to breath. It was why we got it for her. She was eleven and every time we passed Hidden Treasures, you know the pawn shop in town? She would press her little nose to the glass and just eye that thing for hours. It took us ages to save up enough to get it, but we managed to just in time for her birthday. The look on her face was just … magical. You would think we just gave her a baby unicorn. Then, one day, it was just gone.”
“I wonder what happened,” Sloan mumbled to himself.
“I have no idea, but if you find out, let me know?”
Promising that he would, Sloan said goodbye and hung up. Then he just sat there, listening to the groan of floorboards as Lily moved around overhead. Her pacing seemed methodical, like she was moving the same path from point A to point B. He couldn’t be sure if she was pacing, or unpacking. But he turned his mind away from her and focused once more on the phone. He picked the receiver up a second time and dialed Cole’s cell. It rang five times before the female voice told him the mailbox was full.
Puzzled and slightly concerned, Sloan set the phone down once more and ran the tips of four fingers over his bottom lip. The promise he’d made Lily hadn’t left his mind. But now a new itch had formed deep in the recesses of his mind. The one that plagued him with images of something horrible having happened. Years of playing the parent apparently didn’t stop once the grown child was out of the house.
With a sigh, he reached for the phone a third time and rescheduled the move on Sunday, promising to cut the fee in half if they could do it Monday. Bo Jenkins seemed unperturbed by the postponing. He assured Sloan it was fine and Monday would work just as well.
Sloan hung up and left his office.
Lily was folding clothes into the dresser, which explained the pacing from the bed to the dresser. She looked up when Sloan stepped into the doorway.
“I thought you had work,” she said.
Sloan nodded. “I finished.”
“Already?” Chuckling, she tucked a t-shirt into one of the drawers. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” She returned to the bed and folded a pair of jeans in half. “I wanted to ask if you wanted chicken for supper, or fish.”
Reflexively, Sloan grimace. “We have fish?”
Lily laughed, deep and unrestricted. It was the sort of laugh only Cole could draw out of her. Hearing it pour out over something he’d said filled Sloan with a smug sort of satisfaction.
“No,” she said. “But I was going to run into town. Truthfully,”
she walked to the dresser and yanked open the top drawer. “You don’t have a whole lot of anything in that kitchen of yours.”
Sloan shifted uneasily at the truth. “I’m one person,” he muttered. “Most days I forget to eat anyway.”
Lily frowned at him while stuffing the jeans into the drawer. “How have you managed to stay alive this long? You don’t take care of yourself at all.”
“Because I don’t care overly much about myself,” he confessed.
She ceased what she was doing and twisted her body so they were face to face. Her head cocked ever so slightly to the left and she regarded him with a look of annoyance.
“Well, that’s not going to continue,” she decided at once. “So long as I’m here, I’m going to make sure you start treating yourself better.” Mind made up, she went back to unpacking. “So, what will it be?” She gave him a teasing grin from over her shoulder. “Fish or chicken?”
He opted for chicken, but insisted he would drive her into town to get it. She didn’t argue.
“You’re going to take your baby into town to get groceries?” she teased when he led her to the Mustang.
He yanked open the passenger side door and motioned for her to get in.
“The pickup has been acting funny the last little while,” he explained. “The Mustang is safer.”
She looked on the verge of saying something, but seemed to think better of it as she ducked into the seat. Sloan shut the door behind her and rounded the hood.
The drive to Produce and More was made in silence. Sloan pulled into an empty spot right in front and exited the car. Lily was already out of the car and waiting for him on the sidewalk when he reached her.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked with apprehension in her eyes.
“What’s that?”
The tip of her tongue poked out and raked nervously over her unpainted mouth. Her gaze darted to the automatic doors leading into the store.
“Being seen together,” she whispered. “I know everyone must know by now.” Her eyes lifted to his face. “But this will make it official.”
“Wasn’t that the plan?”
Her bottom lip slipped between her nibbling teeth. “There won’t be any turning back.”
“I don’t want to turn back.” He closed the distance between them, stopped when her head was properly tipped up to his. “I’m not going anywhere, Lil.”
Her expression remained apprehensive, but she accepted his word mutely and started for the doors. Sloan stayed close to her shoulder.
The looks, the sly second glances, the low murmurs of interest and curiosity were expected. It didn’t matter how big the gossip. It didn’t matter if Lily had been pregnant or not. Just walking into a place was cause for talk no matter who the person was. Walking in with him was just an added bonus.
Lily grabbed a yellow basket and made a beeline for the produce with her head down and her strides quick. Sloan followed with slow, even clips. He kept his hands tucked loosely in his pockets and his expression casually blank as he met the eyes of every person they passed without flinching.
“I won’t be long,” Lily said hastily as she tore a plastic bag from the spool and selected a bundle of green onions.
Sloan looked away from the craning necks peeking at them from over shelves and focused on the woman at his side. He took in her troubled expression and the tremor in her hands and slipped up behind her.
“Hey.” Careful not to startle her, he slipped his hands over her waist and turned his face into the soft curtain of hair draped over her ear. “Don’t ever rush for anyone,” he whispered.
“They’re all watching,” she said with a soft croak in her voice.
“Let them.” His arms twined around her middle and he drew her into his chest. “You have done nothing wrong.” He took the basket from her. “Besides,” he gave her his best lazy grin. “I like to think they’re looking at me.”
The fear in her eyes turned to laughter.
“That was lame.”
Sloan shrugged. “And yet, very true.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Come on. There are people in canned goods who have yet to get a glimpse of me.”
With her laughter following them, he guided her through the store, never once releasing his arm from around her. He talked to her about his favorite foods and the time he and Cole had had a grape war that nearly got them kicked out. He told her why fish was so disgusting and how he would leave the house for a week if she ever cooked it. While he talked, Lily relaxed. She leaned into him and forgot all about the eyes. It was somewhere between aisle ten and eleven that he finally told her his plans for that weekend.
“But he never phoned back,” she said. “I don’t want to just show up and he’s not there, or busy.” Her brows furrowed. “But at the same time, what if something’s wrong? I mean, Cole always calls me back.” She stopped walking and turned to him. “Maybe you’re right. We should drop by.”
After supper that night, Lily went straight up to pack for the weekend. Sloan left her to it while he tried Cole’s phone again with the same response. He checked his watch and frowned at the late hour.
Cole never went that long without checking in. Something had to be wrong.
The drive the next day was a gloomy one. The roads were slick with rain and the heavy overcast made the ride depressing. He and Lily said very little as he concentrated on getting them there safely. Six hours later, he pulled into a parking spot a full two blocks from Cole’s apartment building. He cut the engine and turned to tell Lily to stay in the car, but she was already climbing out and slamming the door shut behind her. Sloan decided not to press her about it. She wouldn’t stay anyway, not when there was a possibility that something had happened to Cole.
Together, they walked through the light drizzle towards the towering building of red brick and iron bars. The place reminded Sloan of a prison, not an apartment building. But the rent was cheap and it was close to the university, two of the things he and Cole had both tried doggedly to find when searching.
They climbed the stone steps to the steel doors and peered at the call panel. Cole’s number was four-fourteen. Sloan buzzed it.
No one answered.
Next to him, Lily chewed on her lip as she eyed the metal plate as though it had all the meanings to life.
“Maybe he’s out,” she decided. “Or sleeping.”
Nevertheless, she leaned in and began pressing every button on the panel.
“What are you doing?”
“I saw this on a TV show,” she said. “There is bound to be someone in that building waiting for a buzz.”
Sure enough, sixth button down, the door locks disengaged with a buzz. Lily squeaked in triumph and grabbed for it before it could lock again and yanked it open.
Sloan raised an amused brow at her as he reached to take the door. “That was pretty clever.”
Grinning, Lily giggled before ducking beneath his arm and darting inside.
Sloan followed and let the door swing shut behind them.
The building had no elevator. It was four flights of stairs to get to Cole’s door. He and Lily were both breathless by the time they reached the teal-green door marked with a brass four hundred and fourteen.
Lily knocked.
Apprehension coiled around them as they waited for someone to answer.
No one did.
Lily knocked again, harder.
“Cole?”
Sloan reached for the doorknob and twisted, only to have it jerked out of his hand when the door swung open.
Disheveled and blurry-eyed, Cole squinted at them through a tiny slit in the door. His hair had gotten too long and it stood in crazy spikes around his head. There was a month’s worth of beard covering his jaw and he smelled like he hadn’t showered in weeks.
“Lil?” He blinked at her through bloodshot eyes. “That you?”
“Hey!” Relief was a neon sign across her face. “You’re okay!”
Cole pried the
door open the rest of the way and they got a full view of him. His shirt was stained with things Sloan refused to name and there were more holes in his sweats than in Swiss cheese. His feet were bare and dirty as though he’d gone running in the woods barefoot. Fat construction worker headphones hung from around his neck. But the worst was the smell. It was as though something had found its way inside the apartment, taken a dump and then died in a pit of their own filth.
“Jesus!” Sloan muttered. “What the hell happened to you?”
Cole squinted at him. “What?” He swayed slightly on his feet. “Sloan?”
“Cole?” Lily pushed her way inside and took his arm. “What happened?”
Cole let himself be led into the rancid apartment.
“Nothing. Life.”
Sloan followed them, reluctantly shutting the door behind him.
The apartment was a single room dwelling with a tiny bathroom and an even smaller kitchen mashed into one corner. Sloan had only been there once before when he helped Cole move in, but he didn’t recall the place looking like a rundown crack house.
In a stroke of genius, someone had nailed blankets all over the room, creating makeshift rooms and dividing the whole place into two separate sections.
The right seemed to be Cole’s. It was equipped with his bed, a rickety desk holding his humming computer and a dresser of his clothes. There were dishes, books, papers and clothes all over the place.
The other half was a bed, neatly made and nothing else.
“Cole?” Lily nudged Cole onto his bed and yanked the headphones off. She tossed them onto the mattress behind him and cupped his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he slurred. “Just one more paper and then … where is my pencil?”
Lily pressed a hand to Cole’s brow. “God you’re hot!”
Cole smirked sleepily. “I know.”
Ignoring him, she hurried to his desk and pushed aside papers to reach the coffee mug hidden underneath.
Forever His Baby Page 11