“Oh, for God’s sake, forget Ry. He’s a turd. Do not, I repeat do not judge any other man based on his Neanderthal behavior. There are good guys, and there are shitty guys, and Ry is way up that shitty scale.”
“I won’t argue with that.”
“Look, Paige—” It was Lucy’s turn to play with her salad. “If you want this guy, you have to go after him. Don’t let him tell you no. You’re tougher than that. This is your life we’re talking about. Don’t end up with regrets.”
Funny that Lucy should echo the same thing she’d told Dad. I don’t want to live my life with regrets. Then again, she and Lucy had always been on the same wavelength. “I can’t, Luce. I can’t keep letting my heart be broken.”
“So you’d rather die old and alone?”
“We all die alone. The only ones who didn’t die alone were Thelma and Louise.”
“Stop changing the subject. Don’t let him get away. If he’s really the one, then go after him. Make him an offer he can’t refuse. Avail him of your lily-white body. Show him your undying love. Tell him—”
“Luce, I have to go. Ry will be at the house at two, and traffic’s a nightmare.” She stood, pulled a couple of twenties from her wallet, and tossed them on the table. “I’ll call you later.”
“Fine. Ignore me. Let your life go down in flames.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And you’d better call me later. I’m dying to hear what Mr. Wonderful is so eager to say to you.”
* * *
SHE’D HATED HAVING to fence in her property, but after some hopped-up cokehead had come knocking on her front door at three in the morning, looking for some guy called Jocko, she’d called the police first, and a security company second. Now the house and yard were protected by a ten-foot-tall iron fence with an electronic gate, multiple security cameras, and an alarm system. Dad, of course, was elated. If his baby girl was going to live here alone, then she damn well better be safe. He was right. Dad was, regrettably, often right, even when she didn’t want him to be. But the intruder had scared her. She didn’t need some yahoo breaking in while she slept and pawing through her stuff. And when she was on the road, she didn’t want to have to worry about coming home to missing valuables and graffiti sprayed all over her walls.
At precisely two o’clock, while she watched on the security camera, a vehicle pulled up to the gate and the driver honked the horn. Paige pushed the button to open the gate, then closed it behind him and watched Ry’s BMW roll up the drive. He parked, opened the driver’s door, and two familiar little bodies tumbled out of the car and began running for the house.
“Oh, my God.” She reached the door before they did, yanked it open, and knelt in the open doorway with tears streaming down her face. Bo and Janis rushed her, smothering her with puppy kisses as they danced and wiggled and wagged all around her. “Hi, guys!” she said, hugging Janis to her. “Oh, I’ve missed you both so much!”
Ryan stood at a distance, hands tucked in his pockets, watching impassively as she greeted her long-lost fur babies. Sitting cross-legged on the foyer floor, she gathered Bo in her arms and buried her face in that furry, wriggling bundle.
Ry cleared his throat and said, “I’m bringing them back to you. That is, if you’re still interested in having them.”
“Are you nuts?” She endured Bo’s little pink tongue for as long as she could, then captured his face in her hands and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “I was ready to take you to court to get them back. Of all the stupid things you’ve ever said, that has to be the stupidest. Of course, I still want them. But why? Why now?”
“Vanessa,” he said. “She’s paranoid about having the dogs around the baby. She says they’re uncivilized and too rambunctious. She’s afraid they’ll bite him, or scratch him, or knock him down. Or give him some stupid disease. I keep telling her she’s being ridiculous, that kids and dogs go together like bread on a sandwich, but she won’t budge on the issue. She’s given me an ultimatum: either the dogs go, or she does. Taking the baby with her.”
Damned if she was going to allow herself to feel sorry for him. Not even a bit. “Well, Ry, you made that bed, so…”
He shrugged, examined her face. Said softly, “You’re looking good, Paige.”
Was he actually hitting on her? Standing here with his $300 haircut, trying to look like the stud all the magazines made him out to be, while his hugely-pregnant wife sat home alone? Dumbfounded, she rocked back on her heels. “I look like shit,” she said. “Was there something else you wanted, Ryan? Because if there isn’t, I have a couple of dogs I need to spend some time spoiling.”
“It wasn’t all my fault.”
“Excuse me?”
“The break-up. It wasn’t just me. You were gone all the time. Even when you were here, you weren’t here. You’re married to that goddamn career of yours. You never took any interest in me. I was never anything more than an also-ran. I tried and tried to get you to set a wedding date, but you just weren’t interested. If you’d been more cooperative, we’d still be together now.”
The fury rose in her swiftly and violently. She set Bo on the floor and stood. “You insufferable little prick,” she said. “I beat myself up for months, wondering what the hell I did to drive you away, trying to figure out what I could’ve done differently to make you stay. But you know what I realize now? None of it was my fault. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong! You’re a dirtbag and a cheat. I was on the road, busting my ass every night on stage, trying to build a career and a comfortable life for us. Us, Ry! And how did you pay me back? By sleeping with Vanessa. By getting her knocked up, because you couldn’t keep your pathetic little wanker in your pants. That’s why you left, isn’t it? She forced your hand. If she hadn’t, you’d still be here, licking at my boots. I bet she wasn’t even the first.”
The expression on his face told her she’d hit pay dirt. “You’re a third-rate actor,” she said, “who only wanted to get his hands on my money. A snake. I cannot believe I fell for your fake charm. That’s on me, but the rest of this is on you. Get out of here now, before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing. Go back to your diva of a wife. Good luck with her. I’ll be watching the gossip columns for news about the divorce. I give the marriage a year before she finds somebody who’s richer and smarter. With a bigger dick.”
His face had turned an interesting shade of purple. “Bitch,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“And proud of it. Thank you for bringing my dogs back. Now you can go.”
If he wasn’t careful, his pretty face would freeze in that twisted expression, and then what would happen to his acting career? He turned and stormed back to his car. Slammed the door and shifted into reverse. She watched his retreat down the driveway, made him wait a bit before she opened the gate. When she did, he backed rapidly out into the street, transmission whining, then spun off, rubber squealing against the pavement.
She closed the gate behind him, the two-hundred-pound weight she’d been carrying around for the past three years. She’d finally found the courage to pull out a fine-edged scalpel and surgically remove him from her life.
But she hadn’t tossed out the babies with the bath water. The dogs sat shoulder to shoulder at her feet, watching her with shiny, eager eyes. “And that,” she told them, “is that. Who wants ice cream?”
MIKEY
HIS DAD CALLED to ask if Beth could spend the night on Friday. “Rose has an art opening in Portland,” Jesse said, “and we’d like to stay over. Maybe do some shopping on Saturday. But we won’t leave Beth alone overnight.”
If he could have weaseled out of it, he would have. The last time he’d seen Beth, they’d barely been on speaking terms. He wasn’t sure he had the energy to deal with a teenager. These days, he wasn’t keen on people to begin with. Spike was a much better companion than most of the humans he knew. The dog was a great listener, and he never offered unsolicited advice.
But sh
e was his kid sister, he loved her in spite of her attitude—and his—and he couldn’t let Dad down. That kind of responsibility had been bred into him and then reinforced by the United States Marine Corps. “She can stay,” he said, trying to hide his reluctance. “If she’s even speaking to me.” He paused. “How’s it going?”
“A little better, now that the being grounded part’s over. We’re back to civil discourse. Nothing major. ‘Please pass the salt’ and ‘Can you hurry up in the shower?’ That kind of thing. It’s an improvement over the silent treatment.” Jesse paused, sighed. “You work every day with teenagers, you think you know what makes them tick. But raising them is a little more complicated. You can’t just lock the door at five o’clock, go home, and leave it all behind until tomorrow. You live with it, 24/7. She’s a handful. You weren’t like this. Neither were Rose’s kids.”
“Dad, I quit college after my first semester and ran off with my seventeen-year-old stepcousin. To get married, of all things. And surely you haven’t forgotten Devon’s Black Period.” When his stepsister had first come to live with them, everything—her hair, her nails, her clothes, her lipstick, and her mood—were black.
“I guess you forget those things after a while. More likely, block them from your memory. But, you know, I wasn’t fifty then. I keep wondering how it is that I’m raising a teenager at fifty. Not that I regret it, but there are days when I can’t wait for her to be off to college. And then I think about how quickly the years go by, how fast they grow. You can’t recapture that, not even with grandkids. I want to treasure every moment I have with her. It’s just hard to treasure living in a state of armed truce.”
“You’ll get through it. We all will. Should I pick her up?”
“We’ll drop her off around four-thirty. Thanks.”
His baby sister arrived toting an overnight bag and an attitude. Only a few months ago, they’d sat in this very room, and she’d been pumped up, all excited about purple paint and pizza, talking so fast he wanted to pop a cork in her mouth. This Beth plunked herself down on his couch, propped her feet on the coffee table, and crossed her arms. “So?” she said.
“So. Do you want to pick up a pizza and a couple of movies?”
“There’s nothing I want to see.”
“Get supper at the Jackson Diner?”
She rolled her eyes with the kind of derision that only a teenage girl could dish out. “Right. The ultimate humiliation, being seen there with my brother.”
In this tiny town, he was rapidly running out of options. “We could drive to Farmington for Chinese.” The last time he’d eaten there had been with Paige. He squelched the thought and forced himself to focus on his sister.
“I don’t want Chinese.”
“Fine. What do you want?”
“I want to be home, that’s what I want! I want to stop being treated like a baby. I’m old enough to stay by myself. Mom and Dad don’t trust me, so they sent me here. I’m fourteen! I don’t need a flipping babysitter!”
His patience worn thin, he said, “Do you really blame them?”
“Go ahead. Take their side. You’re always on their side.”
“Believe it or not, Beth, I’m on your side. You’re my sister, and I love you, more than you can imagine. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you. I don’t want you to make dumb choices that could ruin your life.”
“I’m not dumb!”
“No, you’re not. You’re a smart girl. A good kid. Which is why I know you can do a better job when it comes to making decisions about your life.”
“Fine,” she said. “We’ll get a pizza and a couple of movies.”
While he waited at Ralph’s for the pizza, Beth took his debit card and walked across the street to the IGA, where the movie-rental kiosk was located in the vestibule. She still hadn’t come back when the pizza was ready, so he drove over, hoping to light a fire under her before the large pepperoni and sausage went cold.
He found her at the DVD rental, smiling up at a tall, scrawny kid with jeans riding so low Mikey couldn’t figure out how those slender hips held them up. Alex Washburn. Damn it all, that kid was everywhere he turned. Washburn saw him, gave him a slow, insolent grin. “Evening, Officer Lindstrom,” he said. “Nice to see your bruises finally faded.”
He was dying to wipe that smirk off the kid’s face. Instead, he said, “I seem to remember telling you to stay away from my sister.”
“Geez, Mikey,” Beth said, “we were just talking.”
“Pizza’s getting cold. Come on, Beth. Now.”
She gave Washburn a last, longing look, and the kid had the audacity to wink at her. Movies in hand, she scurried after her brother, climbed into the passenger seat of his truck and slammed the door. “What is wrong with you?” she said. “We were just talking.”
“I don’t like him.” He crammed the key into the ignition, started the truck, and slammed it into reverse. “He’s bad news.”
“Says you.” As the pizza in her lap filled the cab with its seductive aroma, Beth reached for her seat belt and locked it into place. “I don’t know why you hate him so much. He likes me. The cutest guy in school likes me, Mikey. Do you realize how amazing that is?”
“Why is it so amazing? You’re a pretty girl. Smart and funny and awesome.”
“I’m fat,” she said, “and I have Grandma Lindstrom’s nose.”
“Be proud of that nose. I am. It’s our heritage. And you’re not fat. You’re built like a woman instead of a toothpick.”
“My hair is awful.”
“Your hair is beautiful.”
“It’s a rat’s nest, with a mind of its own. I can’t do a thing with these stupid curls. Why did Emma get such beautiful straight hair, and I got this?”
“Luck of the draw. Along with a little maternal genetics thrown in. Emma’s mother has straight hair. Yours doesn’t.”
“It’s not fair. But Alex likes me, in spite of all my failings. And nobody wants us to be together.”
He didn’t want to tell her it was entirely possible that Washburn liked her because of her assets, not in spite of them. At fourteen, she already had the body of a grown woman. Men were attracted to voluptuous women. Biology had wired them that way. If he found out that Washburn was thinking that kind of thoughts about Beth—and chances were good that he was—Mikey would take a crowbar to the kid’s skull.
At home, they set the movies aside and wolfed down the pizza. He’d never met a pizza he didn’t like, and neither had his kid sister. It was one of the few things they had in common. While he crushed the pizza box and stuffed it into the trash, Beth wandered around the kitchen like a hummingbird, picking things up, putting things down, never lighting anywhere for more than a few seconds. “Why are you so restless?” he said.
“I’m not restless. I’m just bored.”
“I thought you wanted to actually watch those movies you rented.”
She shrugged. “We will, later.” Spying the envelope propped against his sugar bowl, she picked it up and examined it. “What’s this?”
“It’s just a letter. Put it back.”
She flipped it over and frowned. “You haven’t opened it.”
“I’m aware of that. Put it back, please.”
She set it back down, studied him quizzically. “Who’s it from?”
Mikey placed the cover back on the wastebasket. “If you really have to know,” he said, “it’s from Gunther.”
“Wow. You mean, like a suicide note?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Why haven’t you opened it?”
Tension built in his shoulders, the muscles clenching into hard ridges beneath his shirt. “You’re too damn nosy.”
“I think you’re afraid to. Afraid of what it might say.”
Instead of answering, he moved to the sink, plugged the drain, and began filling it with hot water. “Help me with these dishes.”
“I don’t understand what’s happened to you. Why are you so afrai
d of living life? What are you hiding from?”
He picked up a plate, dropped it into the sudsy water, and scrubbed at it with the dishcloth. “People change,” he said, irritated. “Life changes you.”
“But that’s the thing, Mikey. Except for this, you’re still the same guy you always were. My smart and sweet and amazing big brother. You think I forgot, but I didn’t. My earliest memory is of you reading to me. I was two or three years old, and it must’ve been after you joined the Marines, because you had a military haircut. I sat on your lap and you read to me. Dr. Seuss.”
“Hop on Pop. You loved that book.”
“You were always my favorite, you know. I mean, I love Luke, he’s great. Devon’s nice, but I hardly know her. All three of you are so much older than I am.”
He’d been sixteen when she was born. When he left home, she was still a toddler with wispy blond curls, sleeping in a crib and just learning to talk. They hadn’t shared a childhood. Until he came home for good, he’d been more like a favorite uncle who visited every so often to spoil and pamper her. It seemed important somehow that they bond as siblings now that the opportunity had presented itself. Movies and pizza were the things that bonded them.
“You were the only one,” she said, “who really paid any attention to me. Luke’s a lot of fun, but every time he comes home to visit, he’s out with friends pretty much the whole time. And Devon—she always asks me how school’s going, all that superficial stuff. But we don’t connect. We never have. She has no idea how to talk to me. She visits more often than Luke does, but she doesn’t stay as long. And even though she doesn’t live that far away, she’s never invited me to visit. I’m just not on her radar at all.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“Maybe it’s because they had each other for so many years before I came along, and there wasn’t really any room for me. But you weren’t like them. You’re different. You let me tag along behind you. You read to me, took me places. You’re still taking me places. You were my childhood hero.”
If she only knew how far he was from that heroic vision she’d placed on an ivory pedestal. The truth made him squirm. “I’m no hero, Beth.”
Face the Music: Beyond Jackson Falls Book 1 Page 31