by Chloe Walsh
“You don’t have to do that, Kyle,” Patty said softly. “Linda has everything organized already.” Reaching across the table, stilled my shaking hand with hers and squeezed. “This is why she didn’t want you to know.”
“Because my hands would shake?” I tossed out humorlessly.
“No,” Patty sighed heavily. “Because she knew you would try to take all of the weight on your shoulders.”
Dropping the spoon into my cup I sat back and stared at the woman who bore such similarities to the dying woman on the fourth floor. “You, of all people, should know why I want to help,” I told her quietly. Patty knew what Linda meant to me. “She gave up years of her life to raise me,” I choked out. “I need to do something for her . . . while I still can. I need to be with her as much as I can for as long as she’s here.”
“Kyle,” Patty sighed wearily. “I understand, honey, but you can’t put your life on hold like this.”
“Yes, I can,” I growled.
“You’ve barely left her bedside in two weeks.” Shaking her head, Patty smiled sadly, tears filling her blue eyes. “What about your own family?” she asked. “I bet you haven’t seen much of them lately. I bet their missing you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I hissed, forcing down the swell of guilt inside me. “None of it matters.”
“Just over a year,” Karen replied when I asked her how long she’d been in Boulder. We’d been chatting for over an hour and were on our third refill of coffee. “We moved here last year from Idaho. We needed a fresh start,” she continued as she played around with her paper cup. “My family . . . they’re great and I love them, but sometimes they tend to be a little overpowering.”
“Do you any have brothers and sisters?” I asked thoroughly enthralled in our conversation. Karen was the first person I’d spoken to, in what felt like forever, who didn’t drudge up the shooting, the trial or the past. She was plain spoken and a pleasure to listen to. I found myself quickly warming to the spunky blonde in front of me and a small spark of hope bubbled inside of me—that maybe I’d found a friend of my own. She was the only female I’d met since moving to Boulder—besides Cam and Rachel. And considering Cam was dead and Rachel was in jail for killing her—and trying to kill me—my selection of companions was limited.
“Too many,” she snorted as she shifted in her seat. “I’m forth in the line-up of six.” She grinned at my shocked expression. “And get this,” she chuckled. “All of my sisters names start with a C. I changed mine to a K as a mark of independence. Even at five I knew I didn’t want to be another sheep in the flock.”
“Are you serious?” I laughed and shook my head in amusement.
“Deadly serious,” she replied, nodding her head. “Let’s see . . . there’s Cathy. She’s twenty-nine, the fabulous first born and can do absolutely no wrong in my parent’s eyes.” Rolling her eyes in comic dramatic fashion she added, “of course it didn’t hurt when she married Dad’s friend’s son when she was barely out of college. They have an army of kids back home.”
“How many children does your sister have?” I asked, curious.
“Five.” Karen’s eyes gleamed with humor. “Four girls and a boy. Two sets of twin girls and a singleton, Benny.”
I forced myself to smile and say, “wow, two sets of twins. That’s pretty amazing,” but the hollowness of my womb throbbed achingly with need.
Karen smiled happily. “I know right, what are the odds?”
The odds. I wasn’t a fan of odds. Neither was Kyle. They were usually stacked against us. What were the odds of my pregnancy? One in eighty thousand was what the doctors had said. Odds were a load of crap and statistics meant less. Especially if you were one of them . . .
Noticing the change in my mood, Karen rambled on quickly. “Colette is next. She’s twenty-six. She ran off with an Australian hottie and now lives in Melbourne. Apart from the odd email, we don’t hear from her that often.” Using her fingers to tick off names she grimaced when she said, “then there’s my brother DJ. Twenty-three and a complete tool.” She smiled fondly. “I love that idiot.”
“How come he wasn’t given a name starting with C?”
Karen smirked. “Oh, because dear old DJ is favorite number two. The fact that he was born with a penis puts him on a separate platform to his female siblings. It’s basic family politics.” She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. “I’m next, twenty-one and the forever-disappointing-the-family prodigal child,” she sighed dramatically as she inclined her head towards Jordan, who was gazing adoringly at Hope. “And then there’s Carly and Cassie. Eighteen and EMO-tional . . .”
I had no idea what that meant. Emo? Wasn’t that a bird or something? “You’re lucky,” I said, bending down to pick up my keys that Hope had thrown on the floor. My little diva had been throwing my house-keys on the floor for the past hour and squealing in delight every time poor Jordan dutifully retrieved them for her. I handed the keys back to Jordan, who immediately passed them back to Hope when she pouted at him. “I’m an only child,” I told her. But you weren’t supposed to be . . . My mother’s admission popped into my head and I shoved it away quickly.
Focus on the now . . .
“I guess that’s what everyone thinks though, right?” Karen said as she passed me a napkin to clean Hope’s sticky fingers. It hadn’t slipped my attention that Jordan had been slipping her french-fries every time I turned my back. I’d discretely taken them off her each time. “Everybody always wants what the other person has,” she continued. “The grass is greener on the other side and all that . . .”
“Are you married?” I asked, flicking my gaze to her hand. I had wondered if she had moved up here on her own.
“God no,” she chuckled. “I’m only twenty-one, Lee.”
“Sorry,” I said blushing as I took another sip of my coffee. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just . . .”
“It’s okay. You didn’t.” Karen smiled at me and I immediately felt at ease. “He’s almost four and I’m . . . young. I get it. I’d be wondering the same thing about you if I didn’t already know.” She looked at Jordan for a moment before leaning across the table toward me. “I did a really stupid thing when I was sixteen,” she said in a hushed tone. “I gave it up to my brother’s best-friend and a got a little more than I bargained for in return.”
“Um . . . I’m sorry.” I honestly didn’t know what else to say. Her straight forwardness combined with that revelation, had stumped me.
“It fine,” she assured me with a smile. “I wouldn’t change J.O.R.D.A.N for anything.”
“I can spell my own name, dude,” Jordan said in disgust, causing both of us to laugh. “My uncle DJ taught me how. He shows me lots of things,” he continued. “He shows me how to write my name and play with his gickar.”
“His what?” I asked, stifling a giggle.
“His gickar,” Jordan told me before turning to look at Karen. “I can do the chords, too, can’t I, mom?”
“Yes you can, sweetheart,” Karen crooned. “You’re very good at the guitar.”
Jordan beamed with young pride. “My Uncle DJ says I’m the smartest kid in the world and he’s gonna teach me to fish and to ride my bike in the summer,” he added with a grin. “He lives in my house,” he added and I smiled warmly at the little boy who obviously hero-worshipped his uncle. “And he makes me hot-chocolate when mom’s at work, but it’s our secret and I’m not ‘posed to tell her . . .” Frowning at his mother for a brief moment, he shrugged off his momentary blip and said, “When I’m big I’m gonna be a moose . . . a moos . . .”
“A musician,” Karen corrected gently.
“Yeah,” Jordan grinned. “I’m gonna be one of those. Just like my Uncle DJ.”
“He plays in a small rock band,” Karen informed me with a smile. “They had a few gigs in Boulder before Christmas and DJ decided to take a break from the road and stay with us,” she added ruefully. “I think he was worried about h
ow I was coping living out here on my own, but I could hardly protest. I needed help, badly. Besides, I missed him and he adores Jordy.”
“I think the feeling is mutual,” I chuckled.
“He’s actually playing tonight in Bobby’s,” Karen mumbled as she glanced at the watch on her wrist. “He does a few solo gigs to tide him over . . .”
“Oh my god,” I gasped as I reached forward and grabbed Karen’s wrist to check her watch. My heart fluttered when I realized it was after seven. “I need to get home.” Yeah, Kyle wasn’t talking to me, but I didn’t want to give him any more ammunition for a fight.
Sliding my hand into my pocket I could have thumped myself on the head when I remembered I’d left it on charge in our bedroom. Oh no . . .”Do you have a phone I could use?” I asked nervously. “I need to call a cab.”
“Not on me,” she replied in a worried tone. “It’s at my apartment, but my car is parked outside. I have a car seat in the back for when my sister visits with the babies.”
“Um . . . I should probably just call a cab,” I muttered, embarrassed at turning down her kind offer.
“I’m gonna level with you, Lee,” Karen said as she stood up and helped Jordan put on his coat. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Kyle Carter, and there is no way I’m leaving you here on your own. For one, he’d probably fire me and that would be bad since I wouldn’t make this month’s rent, and secondly, it’s not safe for you to be out late on your own. Not with a baby and no phone. No, I’ll drop you home.”
“Um . . . okay. If you’re sure?”
Karen opened the door and held it out for me. “I’m positive.”
“Wow, you’re rich,” Jordan squealed the moment I unlocked the front door and gestured them inside. “Mom, your friend is really rich. Look.”
“Jordan,” Karen muttered as she gently pushed his hand down from where he’d been pointing. “Don’t be rude.” She looked up at me red-faced. “Sorry.”
“I’m not rich,” I told him, pushing down the swell of sadness bubbling inside of me because of Kyle’s absence. “Hope’s daddy is. I’m from a very small town where I lived in a very small house.”
I knew Derek wouldn’t be home tonight because yesterday, during dinner, he’d mentioned taking a trip to Denver to meet up with some of his friends from college, but Kyle . . . God only knew where he was.
“Hope has a daddy?” Jordan said with a pout. “I don’t have a daddy.” He shook his little head. “My mom says my daddy lives far away in the mountains.” My heart squeezed so tight at his innocent words. “I have a picture of them on my wall.” he added. “They’re the . . .”
“Look at that, Jordan,” Karen said nervously as she pointed at Kyle’s monster sized TV in the lounge—the TV Kyle had bought in a bid to lure Derek into moving in last year.
“Oh man,” Jordan whispered as he stared at the television like he’d never seen one before. “She’s beautiful.”
“Make yourselves comfortable,” I told them with a smile. “I’m just going to get Hope ready for bed and then I’ll make coffee.”
“We should probably go home,” Karen mumbled as she looked around, clearly nervous. “It’s late and I don’t want to impose on your family.”
“Nonsense,” I said, feeling anxious at the thought of her leaving. I barely knew the girl, but there was something about her that made me say, “Have coffee with me.” Blushing furiously, I added, “God only knows when Kyle will come home and Hope’s past her bedtime. You won’t be imposing, I swear.” Okay, now I was rambling, desperately rambling, but I craved the company of someone my own age. A female my own age. It was lonely living with men. “Please?” I added with a smile.
Glancing at her son and then at the front door, Karen sighed heavily and smiled. “Coffee sounds great. Although we’ll both have ulcers by the end of the night.”
“Okay.” I grinned. “Great, just . . . just make yourselves at home.” Hurrying up the staircase with Hope in my arms, I called out, “I won’t be long.”
Settling Hope in record time, I puffed and panted down the stairs to my new friend, praying to god that she hadn’t left. By the time I made the bottom step I was breathless and clutching my side.
“You training for a marathon, Lee?” Karen quipped from the doorway of the kitchen where she was holding two steaming mugs of coffee.
“I . . . was . . .” Waving a hand in front of me and I grinned and panted. “Worried . . . you . . . would . . . leave . . .”
Karen raised her brows in surprise, but quickly masked what I suspected was sympathy in her eyes and grinned back at me. “I made coffee,” she said shyly. “And Jordan’s playing an Xbox game in the lounge . . . I hope that’s okay?”
“Of course,” I replied once I was able to breathe freely again. Following her into the kitchen, I hoisted myself onto a stool at the island.
“You’re so small,” Karen chuckled as she joined me at the island. “My family always say that I’m pint-sized,” she mused as she sat on the stool opposite mine. “But you’re like a teeny-tiny curly porcelain doll.”
“Thanks?” I laughed, not taking any offense to her comment. I could see from her eyes she wasn’t being vindictive. “Believe me, because of my height I’m the butt of enough jokes in this house.” Wrapping my hands around my mug I sighed contently. “This is nice.” Looking up, I blushed with embarrassment. “I don’t have many friends here,” I explained.
“Well, you’re doing better than me,” Karen teased. “Because I don’t have any here—well, with the exception of DJ and technically he doesn’t count as a friend since he’s blood and has to love me.”
“You talk really fast,” I blurted out and then froze. “Oh my god,” I whispered, mortified. “I didn’t mean to insult you . . .”
“Relax, Lee,” Karen laughed. Reaching across the island, she patted my hand and smiled. “I’ve got thick skin and you’re right, I talk a lot. DJ always says I can spring a sentence faster than a moving bullet . . . oh shit.”
“It’s fine,” I said softly when Karen’s face reddened. “I’m thick skinned, too.” Patting my stomach I smirked. “Obviously.”
“Okay, maybe you’re not so porcelain,” she said wryly. “How’s your finger—and your back?” Smiling sadly, she reached over and touched my chin. “Your face is still marked quite badly,” she whispered. “Make up doesn’t quite cover it.”
“Believe me, I’ve had worse . . . I’m just happy he didn’t leave his boot print on my face.” Smiling to ease her anxiety I added, “My finger is probably going to be permanently scarred, but I had another checkup today and all is well with my kidneys, so I can’t really ask for more than that.”
“Did they catch him yet?” she asked quietly.
“Not yet,” I replied brightly. “So, how do you like working at the hotel?” I asked her, trying to veer the topic of conversation away from my father . . .”I couldn’t help but hear you ask about a job earlier.”
“The job’s good,” she said sardonically. “If you can get over the fact that the boss is a total ogre.”
“Funny,” I smirked, my smile dropping when I thought of how I’d been treated because of my age. And how he’d been treating me lately . . .”Has Kyle been mean to you?”
“Oh, I’ve had the odd run in with him,” she chuckled. “He tried to force me into babysitting you last year. I thought he was gonna fire me when I refused.” Frowning she added, “I felt like I was walking on eggshells, waiting for the chop.”
“What?” I asked flatly. I knew what it felt like to be under that man’s scrutiny. Kyle had called me into his office once to fire me. It was in the beginning of our relationship when he was under Rachel’s thumb. He’d fired me, then stripped me bare in his office, working me into such a state that I almost had my first orgasm up against his office door, before giving me my job back and running out of the room. “I’m so sorry if he’s been rude to you.”
“For
get about it,” she said softly. “It was months ago . . . besides,” she added with a chuckle. “He’s never there anymore—much to the dismay of Theresa and the girls on the ground floor.”
Scrunching her nose up in distaste, she added, “Those girls have no shame. It’s actually pretty pathetic the way they used to leer at him all the time, and half of those women are married and twice his age.”
“I remember,” I said ruefully, feeling slightly sickened at the thought of what my former co-workers had said about Kyle. “It used to drive me insane. The nicknames were disgusting.”
“I can imagine,” Karen said, her tone laced with sympathy. “If I was him, I’d be seriously considering filing a sexual harassment in the workplace order—especially on the old cougar on wash up.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, a deeper fear settled in my stomach, one Karen seemed to catch onto quickly.
“Lee,” she said in a soft tone. “He’s fundamentality blind to every woman in the hotel. You have nothing to worry about.” Leaning forward she caught my eye and smirked. “And just so you know, the whole broody, alpha male thing he’s got going on doesn’t do it for me either.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, curious at her straight-forwardness.
“Because I like you and I want us to be friends,” she said in a serious tone. “And I don’t want you to think that I’m anything like those bitches at work, or that Grayson woman.” Looking me straight in the eyes, she said, “I’m not going to lie to your face and say Mr. Carter’s horrible to look at. We both know he’s gorgeous, and those eyes of his are hard-freaking-core, but I’m not a home-wrecker and my heart is already spoken for.” Sighing heavily she added, “And my body and heart come as a package deal. All or nothing. No exceptions.”
“So, you’ve been in love before?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t want to over-step the line, but she seemed so forth-coming it was too hard not to ask. “With Jordan’s father?”