He hadn't known what he was doing when he got mixed up with her. Maya filled his life like the joyous balloons he'd loved as a kid. She made life sparkle, decorated it with laughter and surprise, and gave him the kind of chest-pounding hope he'd never thought to know.
He loved her.
The realization was too huge to swallow all at once. Off kilter, Axell reached for Constance and hugged her against him. She wrapped her skinny arms around his waist and more love welled inside him.
"Cleo can take the kids home," Maya said quietly. "I'll stay with you."
Oh, God, that's just what he didn't need. He'd rather keep Cleo here. At least her cynicism was on his side. But he couldn't tell Maya that. He couldn't puncture her dream-spun rainbows right now.
"Axell!" The shout over the murmurs of the crowd jerked Axell's head in the direction of the drive.
The mayor.
Ralph Arnold hurried over the trampled grass, not a blow-dried hair out of place, not an inch of his immaculate suit revealing a wrinkle. Axell groaned inwardly, then with a definite Maya twist, offered his grimy hand as the mayor stopped in front of them.
Ralph looked at Axell's filthy palm, glanced at his sooty face, then nervously smiled at the women and children. "Everyone's safe!" he said with relief, pretending Axell's outstretched hand didn't exist.
Maya apparently caught the byplay and offered a half grin to Axell before donning her usual vague expression when confronted with someone she couldn't relate to. He was learning all her tricks, it seemed.
"No thanks to the arsonist," she replied sweetly. "We could have all been roasted alive. Would you have put a marker beside the new road in remembrance?"
Ralph looked rattled and turned to Axell for guidance. No matter how much he despised the man and his politics, Axell couldn't believe the mayor capable of arson. He shrugged. "It's been an unpleasant evening, but I think I have news you'll want to hear. We need to get together in the morning."
Maya shot him a suspicious look. "I'm still not selling."
Damning her perceptiveness, Axell calmly met her gaze. "Cleo is ready to sell, aren't you?" He glanced in his sister-in-law's direction. His sister-in-law. Damn, he'd exchanged a busybody mother-in-law for an ex-con sister-in-law. It didn't matter. Protecting his wife and kids was what mattered.
Cleo glanced suspiciously from him to the mayor and shrugged. "No skin off my nose. It's Maya's dream, not mine."
Maya's dream. Axell wanted to stop the discussion for now. "We'll talk in the morning, Ralph. Everyone's nerves are shot tonight."
"I won't sell, and that's final." Maya gathered up Alexa, caught Constance's arm, and glowered at her sister. "We're going. Have a good chat."
Axell recognized the sinking feeling in his stomach as she walked away, but he was prepared for that, much more than he was prepared for the sudden urge to shout at her to come back.
He didn't want to be divided from Maya in any manner, physical or emotional or in their hopes for the future. For a little while, he'd almost felt as if they were one whole, as if their physical joining had truly brought them together in heart and soul. But that was patently ridiculous. Grown men did what they had to do, and usually got yelled at for it.
February, 1977
It's over. She's left, taking her babies with her, not even knowing why the storm broke over her innocent head. Perhaps she'll be happier with her husband's family, away from the stench of her father's cowardice and the cruelty of her mother's kin.
What difference does anything make now? I have an offer of easy money, money that can some day go to my daughter and her babies. They'll be too far away to be affected by anything I do here. Why not paint the whole damned town with tar? Helen would have loved the irony.
The Arnolds deserve to have their faces rubbed in the dirt they strive so desperately to pretend doesn't exist in their pretty little town.
* * *
Axell followed the light in the family room as he entered the house well after midnight. He hadn't expected Maya to wait up for him. She must be totally wiped by now. He certainly was.
He needed a hot shower, and a long soak, and clean sheets with Maya's sweet-smelling curves in his arms, and then he thought he could sleep for a week. Heaven was having Maya to come home to. He was aroused just thinking of her sleepy kisses. She'd forgive him for his plans to sell the school. Maya simply didn't have it in her to hold a grudge.
Prepared to scold her for waiting up, Axell stopped dead in the doorway at the sight of Sandra flipping pages of a magazine.
"Well, it's about time," she said huffily, standing up. "Constance has been crying for hours. What do you intend to do about it?"
Constance? Axell blinked and tried to rearrange his relaxing thoughts of showers and bed to this new perspective. "Where's Maya?" he asked cautiously.
"Gone, of course." Sandra threw the magazine down. "You really didn't think she'd hang around once she came into a little money of her own, did you? Those kind only think of one thing."
Gone? Axell dragged his hand through his hair, realized he was smearing soot, and grimaced. "Where did she go?" he asked in genuine puzzlement, although his stomach was telling him exactly where she'd gone and why.
"How should I know?" Sandra asked arrogantly. "I'm not a mind reader. She dropped Constance off, packed up Matty's toys and the baby's diapers, and left. She'll probably be back for the rest sometime. You can ask her then. I'm going to bed."
Icy cold numbed him as Sandra swept past. Maya would never have left Constance behind if she'd simply meant to spend the night with Cleo. He hadn't believed she would leave Constance at all. She loved Constance.
Maya had a heart full of love for everyone.
Clutching his grinding gut, Axell sank to the couch, oblivious to what his filthy clothes did to the upholstery. She'd left him. She'd walked away. Over the damned school. He knew better than to think she'd left him because of money. Maya didn't have any idea whatsoever how much those properties were worth and wouldn't care. But she was completely capable of leaving him over a principle.
Let her, dammit. She was so frigging determined to swim away at the first sign of trouble, then he'd damned well let her go. He didn't need this hassle, worrying about Constance and Alexa and Matty and Maya and that damned school and a arsonist and how the ex-con sister and her drug dealer friends mixed in.
What if she'd gone back to Stephen?
Oh shit. Oh hell and shit and damn them all there and back again.
Wanting to shout his agony and confusion from the rooftop, Axell bit back his moan as he heard the pitter-patter of bare feet in the hall.
Constance. How the hell would he explain it all to Constance?
* * *
"He looks like hell warmed over. You're crazy to do this to him." Cleo collapsed in the dilapidated wooden chair Maya had retrieved from some junkyard. It now adorned the upstairs room of the school where Maya had taken up residence. Cleo glanced around at the sheets draped over stripped wallpaper and broken plaster and wrinkled her nose. "This place looks worse than that apartment Mama rented."
"I don't remember that," Maya answered absently, feeding Alexa a spoonful of milky cereal. She didn't want to be told Axell looked terrible. She wanted to hear that he was going on happily without her. He hadn't let Constance return to school.
"Leaving him was stupid," Cleo admonished. "All you had to do was refuse to sign the papers if you didn't want to sell. He would never have thrown you out for that."
"Remember that family we stayed with in L.A.? The ones with the lovely pink-frilled bedroom?"
Cleo glowered. "Yeah, the ones that had a holy cow when you painted purple roses on the walls. So what?"
Maya glanced at her in disapproval. "What do you mean, so what? They threw us out, didn't they? I tried to make the room prettier to show them how much I loved them, and they threw us out. Is it so hard to make the comparison?"
Cleo stared at her sister in disbelief. "Is that what this is a
ll about? You left so he couldn't throw you out? Are you crazy? That man's blind-deaf in love with you. He worships the ground you walk on. He's a damned Don Quixote who would have walked in a burning building for you. And you threw him away so he couldn't do it to you first? I can't believe we had the same parents!"
"You don't understand anything." Maya wiped Alexa's chin. She'd thought of all people, Cleo would understand. Selene was barely speaking to her for leaving Axell, but he hadn't even called. That was proof enough in her mind.
She'd finally pushed him too far and he was relieved that she'd left without forcing him into a fight. Now he only had Constance to protect, and he didn't need to worry about arsonists and drug dealers. She knew how his mind worked. He wanted to keep everything in his world in neat little compartments where he could take care of them. The school didn't fit, so he wanted to get rid of it. She understood that. She simply couldn't live with it.
"I understand this blamed building is sitting on a multi-million-dollar piece of property and that someone tried to burn it down and will probably try again." Cleo bit into the cold piece of toast Maya had left uneaten beside her cup of tea. "Axell isn't stupid. You're the jackass here."
Maybe she was. For the first time in her life, she'd chosen to take a stand, and maybe it was the wrong one. Heaven only knew, she had doubts enough to build a mountain. She'd always had doubts. She'd never had enough confidence in herself to finish anything except college. She supposed it was ironic that Axell had been the one to feed her the confidence she needed to fight for what she wanted. If she backed down now, she might never be able to stand up to anyone ever again.
"The concept of this school is more important than anyone's hurt feelings," she said quietly, trying to convince herself as well as Cleo. "If I fail, then no one will ever try again. I can't fail. Look at how much Matty has changed over these last few months."
She concentrated on her known accomplishments. "He wouldn't even smile when I first got here. Now he bounces up and down with eagerness. He's marvelous with animals, and tells the younger kids wonderful stories. That's what I want to do here."
Cleo ripped off another mouthful of bread and chewed it jerkily before replying. "He's still lousy at reading and writing. He's got the books memorized, but he doesn't know the words."
"He's only five. His motor skills aren't as strong as others at that age. But don't you see?" Maya pleaded, looking up at her sister. "He shouldn't be judged on his undeveloped skills. Maybe he'll never be great at reading and writing. The world's full of people who can do those things just fine. But how many people can nurture animals and tell stories and make children laugh? It takes all kinds. That's what I want people to understand."
Cleo looked uncertain. "You're dreaming. You can't raise kids to tell stories instead of reading and writing. That's ridiculous."
Maya patiently wiped Alexa's face again. "You need to have him tested to see if he has any learning disabilities, or if he's just immature in that area, but don't you see? If I hadn't given him confidence in his ability to take care of the animals, he wouldn't have had the confidence to learn as much as he has. He used to throw his pencils against the wall rather than try to write his ABC's."
"Shit, now you'll have me believing this garbage." Cleo stood up. "I've got to get back to the store. I still think you're crazy about not selling this place."
She probably was. Maya watched her sister go, then picked up Alexa to give her the rest of her bottle. Alexa breathed a gassy grin, and Maya's heart twisted. She wanted Axell to see her first smile. She wanted him to see her crawl and walk and hear her say her first words.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she tried to concentrate on the principles that had brought them to this impasse.
Axell had pushed her away as deliberately as every foster parent who'd given up on her. He'd known what he was doing when he told the mayor he was willing to talk about selling. Maybe she'd demanded too much, invaded his space, and made him uncomfortable.
Except—Maya knew better. She couldn't lie to herself.
Axell loved her, and he was proving it by shoving her away because he was afraid of losing those he loved. And because she loved him, she was obediently swimming downstream.
She wanted to laugh hysterically at the mismatch they'd made of their lives.
Instead, she lay a sleeping Alexa into her cradle, cleaned out her teacups, and looked for their box.
Chapter 36
Some people are alive only because it's illegal to kill them.
Axell rolled out of bed the minute he was conscious of birds singing. He didn't want to lie here remembering the mornings he'd woke with Maya in his arms, because then he'd start remembering her seductive chuckles and playful fingers and his already unassuaged arousal would reach painful proportions. A cold shower helped prepare him for another empty day of approving invoices and listening to idle chatter.
Why had he ever thought the damned restaurant so important? He'd spent the better part of his life appearing there every day like some automaton, but it ran like clockwork even if he disappeared for hours at a time. Once he got rid of this little problem with the mayor, he wouldn't need to worry over losing his license. He could take Constance to the beach. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken her to the ocean.
He was beginning to think like Maya.
Groaning, he scrubbed his hair, dried off, dressed, and staggered into the kitchen. Sandra wasn't up yet. Constance was preparing her own breakfast. She gave him a haunted look, then drifted into the family room to watch cartoons. Sandra's idea of taking care of Constance was an electronic baby-sitter.
Remembering his daughter giggling and decorating pancakes with blueberries under Maya's instructions, Axell gulped down a glass of milk and called it breakfast. Maybe tomorrow he'd go to the grocery and buy some pancake mix and blueberries and Constance could show him how to fix clown faces in the batter.
Maybe tomorrow the sun would orbit the earth.
He refused to wallow in self-pity. He could do this. It was simpler this way, without women in his life. He'd never learned to deal with them anyway. He could reach out to Constance without Maya's intervention. He could quit spending eighteen-hour days at the restaurant. He wouldn't swear he'd learn to cook or plant colorful flowers around the yard, but he could find a hobby of some sort to fill the empty hours.
He glanced out at the maple he'd had planted to shade Maya's garden. A cardinal sang "pretty-pretty" from one of the branches. The pink and purple impatiens beneath the canopy of leaves needed watering. The great gaping vacancy of his insides whistled hollow as if a cold wind swept through.
He had to be the biggest jerk of all time. He couldn't force Maya to sell her dream. She was living out there in that slum with Alexa, as unprotected as before their marriage. What the hell had he thought he'd accomplished? He'd succeeded only in placing them in worse danger.
Selling the school was the sensible thing to do. The old house needed too much expensive work, the shopping center would destroy the rural atmosphere, the mayor would leave them all alone if they agreed to a right of way for the road, and whoever was behind all these disasters would presumably go away and leave them safe. The sale would create considerable cash flow to aid Cleo and her shop and give Maya a chance to open a new, more modern facility elsewhere. Keeping the school where it stood was stupid.
Keeping the school was Maya's dream. She'd never owned a home of her own, never had something that was completely hers. He'd installed her in a house his late wife had built and expected her to be happy. She had been. Axell could swear Maya had been happy here. Maya could be happy in a cardboard box. That didn't mean she didn't dream of a place of her own.
Damn.
Axell wandered into the family room to check on Constance. "I'm going in to the office. Give me a hug?" He didn't want to sound plaintive, but it sure had that ring.
Constance glanced at him, then huddled her shoulders so she looked like a possum playing dead. "Can
I go to school for just a little while?"
Well, if he sounded plaintive, she sounded just plain pitiful. He'd have to get used to it. This was for her own good. "It's not safe, honey. We'll find you a new school."
"Is Maya not safe?"
His daughter was too quick for her own good. Axell massaged his forehead and sought an easy answer. There was none. "Maya's a grown-up. She can take of herself."
He heard his own words with amazement. Maya could take care of herself. He didn't have to do it for her. He'd known that. It just hadn't sunk in. If she wanted to risk life and limb fighting for a falling-down building, that was her responsibility. Not his. He could offer to lend a hand or stand in her way or keep his nose out entirely, but it was her fight.
She had thought they'd approached marriage as equals. He had thought he was taking on more responsibilities. He should have felt relief when she left. Instead, he felt as if the weight of the entire world had fallen on his shoulders. He hadn't realized how much of his burden Maya had cheerfully carried.
He didn't like to admit he was wrong. He was never wrong. That's how he'd gotten where he was today.
Alone.
Shit.
Axell bent over and kissed his daughter's hair, then ruffled it. "I'll see what I can do, honey. We'll get Maya back."
She beamed in relief and happiness. At least someone needed his help.
With that one little grain of confidence to carry him forward, Axell aimed for the garage. He just didn't know where he was going yet.
September, 1981
My lawyers have lost track of her. I'm frantic. She's left her husband and disappeared with the babies. How will she live? How can she take care of them?
Damn you and your temper, Helen. You've passed on the worst of both of us. And the best.
I'll find her, Helen. I'm a tainted old man now, too tired to fight. You're gone, Dolly's dying, our daughter doesn't know I exist, and nothing seems worth the effort anymore. But I'll spend every ill-earned dollar to find them.
Dixie Rebel (The Carolina Magnolia Series, Book 1) Page 30