Despite his polish, I sensed something broken in him, too. Ever since that night he'd followed me and shared a simple dinner in my apartment, our relationship had shifted. Both of us had alluded to cracks in our lives that if explored too far might split wide open, leaving us raw and exposed. I had a feeling we’d end up either completely breaking each other or filling in the cracks. The question was, could we do one without the other?
Despite the chill of the evening, the knowledge that Holt cared enough to search for me, the relief I heard in his words and saw in his eyes when he found me, warmed me in a way I hadn't felt in a very long time. Maybe he was he was filling my cracks without too much damage. I just hoped he didn’t cause new ones to form. Everyone I ever cared about eventually left me, and I wasn’t sure I could take any more loss.
"It will be alright, Maddy. I promise." His voice sounded strong and secure, but unless he could wave a magic wand and make the mess in my life disappear, they were empty words.
"I wish I believed you," I whispered.
I withdrew my hand and placed it on my lap and closed my eyes again, but not before I caught the frown on his face.
18
Holt
I ushered Maddy into my apartment and dropped my keys on a table tucked into the small vestibule in the entranceway. She stood motionless a few feet inside with her arms still clutching tightly to the blanket the Red Cross volunteer had provided her. I was worried by how vacant her expression appeared.
She had to be in shock. She'd had one hell of a week, that was for sure. The repairman, Misty, a lunch mishap, and now the fire. I moved past her and grabbed two whiskey glasses and poured a generous finger's worth of Scotch and a splash of water into each. I set them on the table next to the couch and went back to stand in front of her.
"Maddy?"
Her eyes, more muted than I'd ever seen them, looked up at me.
"Come and sit down." She nodded and sat on the edge of the cushion with her head bowed to the floor and her hair falling around her face. There was no point in denying how much seeing her appear so vulnerable affected me. It made me want to hold her tight and try to fix everything for her.
Instead, I settled for pressing the glass into her hands. "Take a sip, sweetheart."
As if on autopilot she moved the glass to her lips and took a gulp. Within seconds she was coughing and sputtering, almost spitting out the liquid that cost me nearly two hundred bucks a bottle.
She glared at me. "What the hell, Holt? Are you trying to poison me?"
I smiled as the familiar green flared in her eyes. "No. If I were, I'd have chosen something cheaper than good Scotch to do the deed."
She stared suspiciously at the tumbler in her hands. "Ugh. No wonder I don't drink alcohol."
"I'll have you know that's some of the finest whiskey Scotland has to offer. Try again, only this time, sip it slowly."
I swallowed my laugh as she stuck her nose in the glass and sniffed the contents then once again lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed a small amount. She closed her eyes and drew some deep breaths and tilted her head thoughtfully. "It's really warm going down." She sipped some more. “Maybe it’s not so bad after all.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as the color returned to her cheeks.
"Thank you," she whispered.
I started to shrug but froze as she placed a hand on my arm. "No, I mean it, Holt. You always seem to show up when I need someone. I know I haven't been easy to get along with all the time, but thank you for being here for me."
"I am here for you, Maddy. I know we got off to a rocky start, but…"
My sentence trailed off; I wasn’t ready to share how much she’d come to mean to me. She nodded. We both knew our relationship had shifted that night at her apartment, even if we couldn’t put a name to it.
Her fingers relaxed on the glass she was clutching. She looked around my living room.
"Your home seems nice, Holt. You have good taste."
I glanced around and tried to see it from her eyes. The room was decorated simply with brown leather furniture, a few tables and lamps, and a large television, all my work. My mom and sister, who’d shaken their heads at how ‘unhomey’ it was, had done the rest. The walls were a warm shade of light brown, and there were a few pictures on the walls and bookshelf, as well as a red and blue oriental carpet under the coffee table. A few plants scattered around added a little more life, as long as I remembered to water them.
"You sound surprised."
She gave me a half grin. "Well, maybe a little. Sometimes you come across sort of uptight, always sort of proper. So I guess I imagined something modern and cold, maybe more black and white with straight lines, I guess." Her cheeks pinkened, and her eyes looked a little sheepish. "Sorry."
Uptight and proper? Oh, baby, if you only knew how hard I'd come earlier imagining it was you sucking me, you wouldn't think so.
I laughed. "Don't be. If it had been left up to me, the walls would still be white, and I'd have a couch and a television with a lit-up beer sign for decoration. But my mom and sister were determined it needed to look more like a home. I think they were worried I'd get depressed again if it was too drab and dreary."
"Again?" She lifted an eyebrow at me.
Shit. She would pick up on the word that had slipped out.
I shook my head. "Never mind."
I had to work hard not to squirm as she eyed me thoughtfully, but she didn't pursue her questioning. Instead, she stood, dropped her blanket and moved across the room behind me as if something had caught her eye. I couldn't help but admire how cute she looked in her large sweatshirt that slid sideways, exposing a creamy shoulder. Even though I could only see a white bra strap, I found it way more inviting than Michelle’s black bra earlier. It left me wanting to explore and discover what lay beneath Maddy’s shirt, rather than knowing ahead of time.
Remembering the woman I’d ditched earlier, I felt a pang of guilt. Not because I’d left her, or even because I’d basically used her, but because I was with her in the first place.
She picked up something and looked over her shoulder. "You were in the military?"
"The Marine Corps."
She turned to face me with wide eyes. "But, doesn't this mean you were wounded?" She held up the case that held my Purple Heart and more significantly, my Navy Cross.
I nodded but didn't elaborate. It represented a dark period in my life, and I would've shoved it in a drawer, but my mom had insisted such an honor shouldn't be hidden.
"Wow, Holt. Just wow." Her lashes blinked a little faster. "I'm not sure what to say other than thank you for your service." She studied me for a few seconds. "You are okay, now, aren't you?"
Not as okay you might think, sweetheart. I thought I was...but you're making me rethink it.
"Mostly. Can I get you anything?"
"Aha. Using that deflection technique I taught you, huh?" She winked at me.
She was so cute when she was a little sassy. "Hard to teach the master, baby. Seriously, can I get you anything, something to eat, maybe?" I started toward my kitchen, hoping I didn't embarrass myself by not having anything edible in the cabinets or fridge.
"I'm fine, Holt. Actually, I'm a little tired. It's been a long day."
A quick glance at the clock told me it was almost midnight. Looking closer at her, I saw dark shadows under her lashes and stress lines creasing the skin around her eyes and mouth. She must be exhausted. "Of course, I'm sorry. Let me show you around your new home, at least for the time being."
I pointed out a few essentials including the guest bathroom, made sure she had towels and guided her to my extra bedroom. "I'm across the hall if you need me," I said. "There are spare toothbrushes in your bathroom." I held up a finger as I thought of something. "Hang on a sec."
I dashed to my room, grabbed a couple of items and came back. She was still standing where I'd left her, the dazed look back on her face. "What's wrong?"
Her chin quivered. "I.
..I..."
"Maddy?" I took the two steps from the doorway to stand in front of her and clasped her forearms.
"I...I don't even have anything to sleep in. I've really lost everything, haven't I? Again. Even my laundry. I dropped my basket with all my clothes, and the letters, and...and my book—“
"Oh, baby. Not everything." I tucked a finger under her chin. "You haven't lost me. I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you through this. And I know the McCloskeys feel the same way. We'll get you more clothes and books. And here," I showed her the t-shirt and boxers I'd grabbed from my room, "I'd already thought of something to sleep in. It's my softest and most favorite one, so no keepsies." I grinned, trying to tease her out of her funk.
She burst into tears instead.
Well, fuck me. I'd meant my words to comfort her. Instead, she unraveled right in front of me. Sighing, I pulled her close and her slight form collapsed against me, shaking from the force of her tears.
I scooped her up, sat on the bed, and leaned against the pillows. I held and rocked her as she cried. Her hand clenched and unclenched the fabric of my shirt. She tried to be so strong all the time, so it didn't surprise me that when she broke, she broke hard. I continued to hold her until her hand relaxed and her sobs turned to hiccups, which turned to occasional little gasps, and finally soft, deep breaths.
Long after she was asleep, I still held her, struggling to understand why this broken woman who had nothing but a felony to her name was somehow managing to restore the very piece of me I thought was irreparably beyond repair.
19
Maddy
An unusual warmth roused me from sleep, and even with my eyes still closed, I recognized there was a bright light shining directly on me.
Strange. My bedroom faced the west, so such brightness was never a factor in waking up in the mornings. I blinked myself into fuller awareness as I stretched under the covers. Confused, I sat up straight, taking in the unfamiliar room and the bed. Memories of the night before came flooding back.
"Oh, God," I groaned. I buried my head in my hands as I remembered losing both my apartment and my self-control last night. What must have Holt thought when I completely fell apart on him last night? I recalled how he held me, called me 'baby' and 'sweetheart' while I cried.
I never allowed myself to give in to my feelings like that; I couldn't show weakness growing up, or especially in prison. I guessed they'd been corked up so long that they finally blew the lid whether I liked it or not. Now I just had to find the courage to face him and apologize. My head throbbed slightly as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, probably from the tension after all the drama last night and my current state of embarrassment. My shoes were lined up neatly next to the bedside table, and on its surface was a small bottle of pain reliever and a glass of water.
Was there no end to Holt’s consideration? I took two of the tablets and dragged myself from the comfort of the bed. I was so tempted to dive back under the covers and hide from everything – my homelessness, the effort it would take to replace everything…my growing feelings for Holt. But sticking my head in the sand had never been my way, so there was no point in starting now.
I wondered if there was a bus stop nearby so I could shop for some new clothes. Maybe this time, I’d look for some styles that were more fashionable. It would take all of my savings I'd put aside for a computer, but I’d have to put tutoring on hold anyway while I tried to straighten out my life - again.
Then my eyes landed on a white laundry basket. It was empty of clothes, but I recognized the small hole in one of the sides from when I'd accidently gotten it caught on a door handle and pulled it too hard.
Holt must have returned to the apartment building and searched for it. His gesture to try to recover some of my belongings almost brought a fresh wave of tears. The debt of what I owed him was starting to stack up.
Inside the basket were the two envelopes from Charly. They looked a little worse for wear with some dirt smudges and ripples like they'd gotten wet, but he'd found them. I dropped to the floor, grabbing and hurriedly opening the larger one and shaking it toward the floor. The letter spilled out, but nothing else. In disbelief, I peered into the envelope as if I might be able to conjure the contents to be there.
Nothing.
My eyes closed and my shoulders slumped. As excited as I'd been yesterday to get these items, I wished Charly had never sent them. To have had them in my hands after all these years, only to lose them again; stolen by some stranger who'd never appreciate what they meant. Unless maybe...
It was grasping at a bunch of wet straws, but maybe Holt had put them up somewhere because they, too, had gotten dirty and damp. I sprung from the floor with new hope and darted out of the bedroom. I heard someone moving down the hall and hurried into the living room. "Holt, I was won..."
Not one, but two sets of brown eyes stared at me as I ground to a sudden halt. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had company." I was suddenly very aware of how crazy I must have appeared, wearing stale, wrinkled clothing, hair that must be flying in every direction, and babbling without any manners like I had every right to be there. One hand automatically went to my hair to try to smooth the curls while the other made sure my shirt was straight.
I wanted to slink back to my room, but Holt was already standing and moving toward me, a calm smile on his face.
I gulped. No one should look that good in the morning. I stood blushing and self-conscious, nervously rocking from one foot to the other.
"Good morning, Maddy. I hope you slept well?" Long, manicured fingers reached toward my face and tucked some hair behind my ear. "Relax," he whispered in that same ear. "You look beautiful."
Straightening up, he pressed his hand to my back and guided me further into the room. I tried to resist, but he responded by applying more pressure. It was either comply or pitch forward on my face, so I took the required steps, frowning at him over my shoulder. He grinned impishly in return.
"Madelyn Stone, this is my mom, Molly Andrews. Mom, I'd like you to meet Maddy."
I hope I successfully swallowed my gasp. His mom? Holy crap! Maybe if I closed my eyes and reopened them, I'd still be in my bed, and this would all be a bad dream.
Mrs. Andrews stood gracefully. "Madelyn. I'm verra pleased to meet you. Holt was just telling me all you've been through."
Nope. Not even in my dreams would I make someone speak with an accent. Molly Andrew's Scottish lilt came through, even if only in a couple of her words. I wondered how much he had told her about me.
I glanced at him with an eyebrow raised in question.
"Mom was very distressed when she learned I had a friend who’d lost her apartment in a fire last night. She brought over some things she thought you could use, since I’m obviously too much of an oaf to take care of you,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.
I breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to his mom. "Mrs. Andrews, it's nice to meet you as well. That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you. I'm sorry for bursting in on your visit. I didn't realize anyone was here." I shot Holt a pointed look.
He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "I tried," he shrugged. "You were sleeping so soundly, so I didn't want to bother you."
Heat rose in my cheeks as I remembered how I'd cried in his arms last night until I couldn't remember anything more. I must have fallen asleep in his arms. I wondered how long he'd stayed there afterward, and if his mother wondered how he knew I was still sleeping.
"I guess I was pretty worn out," I mumbled.
Mrs. Andrews glanced between us, a bemused look accompanying the slight narrowing of her eyes. "Of course, you were, my dear. I'm so sorry to learn about your troubles." She glanced up at her son. "Holt, be a dear and get me some coffee, please. And maybe some for Madelyn?"
My nerves were suddenly on edge. She sounded like a woman on a mission, ready to dig for answers, and I was her latest excavation project.
"Um, that's okay. I'll be happy to get
it so you two can get back to your visit."
"Nonsense. Sit." She patted the cushion next to her on the couch and raised an eyebrow at her son. "Holt?"
Three words. But with such a no-nonsense tone, that was all it took to send both of us to do as we’d been told. I sat, and with an apologetic look at me, Holt turned and left the room.
How did she do that?
"Holt tells me you're new to the area?" Mrs. Andrews didn't waste any time starting her inquisition.
"Yes, I am." Stick to the truth, I told myself. Just maybe not the whole truth.
"And you work at the same law firm as him? Are you a lawyer, too?"
I laughed. "Hardly."
"But you work with my son?" she pressed.
"No, not directly. I'm a clerk, copying papers and making sure each of the offices have what they need. I have more contact with his secretary than with him, but he was one of the first people I met there." I smiled, hoping to modify my somewhat defensive tone.
"And where are you from?"
"Here in Virginia." At her look, I decided maybe I should be a bit more generous with my answers. "A small town, almost on the North Carolina border."
She leaned back on the couch. "Ah, peanut country."
I smiled. "Yes, we had a few peanut and cotton farmers, but most people worked in the lumber mills."
"And do you still have family there?"
A million dollar question! I didn't know where Charly lived, nor my father for that matter. But they'd cut their ties with me. Well, at least I thought they had. Charly seemed to think we still had a connection, but I wasn't interested in renewing it.
I looked at my lap. "I don't have any family, ma'am."
Molly's expression softened. She reached out and grabbed my hand. "Oh, my dear. I'm sorry! You're so young to be on your own."
Yesterday's Tomorrows Page 13