Mrs. Ortega waved. “Call me Stella. We’re really glad to meet you.”
She was a tall black woman who towered over the stocky pastor.
“Nice to meet you.” Maryanne swallowed a sour taste. No way was she going to church and be surrounded by a bunch of judgmental hypocrites. Even Lucas knew better than to bug her to attend. Maryanne poured herself a glass of water to wash down the acid. If they knew what she’d really done, they wouldn’t be calling her a blessing. Unable to sit around the table with them chatting while rolling the dough, Maryanne edged toward the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” Stella followed her to the hallway. “If there’s anything you need to talk about, I’m all ears. It must have been a hard decision.”
“I’m good. Just a little tired. I think I’ll go lie down.” Maryanne backed toward her room. Christian hymns played from the stereo. The two girls giggled, and the adults talked softly over steaming hot cider with cinnamon. She patted her belly, reassured when her baby squirmed in response.
~~~
Lucas cleaned the bicycle grease from his hands and threw the towel at Zach. “It’s going to be hot in Arizona even in mid-November.”
“Home of the Sun Devils. I’m going to beat you, big man.” Zach cracked open a Red Bull and took a swig. “You packed for Sunday’s flight?”
“Yep. I’m hoping to see Maryanne this Saturday.” Lucas spun his pedals and tightened the derailleur.
“I don’t know why you’re so keen on one woman. You’re young, maybe butt-ugly, but I’m sure you could get laid easily.”
“Maryanne’s special.” Lucas wiped debris from the brake pads. “She has some issues to work through with the adoption, feeling guilty about letting the baby go. But I’m not giving up on her.”
“Humpf.” Zach tossed the can in the bin. “Don’t turn into a pumpkin waiting for her. Come to the party tonight.”
“I… I have to sleep.”
“Sleep? You’ll get plenty of sleep on the airplane.” Zach opened the closet. “I got us costumes. You can be Jack Sparrow, and I’ll be Ezio from the Assassin’s Creed.”
Lucas waved his hand. “No way, I’m not going to be Jack Sparrow.”
“Ah, come on, be a sport.” He waved the braided wig at him. “Why don’t you call Maryanne and see if she wants to come? It’s going to be at the OgleNet CEO’s house. They’re doing it up big. Lot of sponsors will be there since the CEO, Pete Bowers, is an amateur triathlete. They hired Hollywood animatronics engineers to set it up. Real spooky. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t think Maryanne would be interested in attending.” She had told him about her disastrous interview with Mrs. Bowers and how she hated horror movies.
“Who needs her anyway?” Zach threw the Jack Sparrow costume at Lucas. “Let’s chat up Mr. Bowers. Maybe he’ll shell out some sponsorships.”
Lucas examined the costume. Might be good to meet the OgleNet CEO. If he could swing an advance, he wouldn’t have to go with Zach to Australia and could stay around to help Maryanne.
Two hours later, Zach and Lucas entered the Bowers’ Woodside mansion. Rock music blared from the panels of the giant ballroom. The chandeliers were dimmed and flickering, and the paneled wooden surfaces were festooned with spidery webs and hanging moss. Partygoers crowded every corner. A waiter with a Puck mask swung over to their side. “Cocktails or beer?”
“Beer for me,” Zach said.
“And mineral water for me,” said Lucas.
The waiter laughed. “Jack Sparrow’s having mineral water? I would have put you down for shot glasses of rum.”
Lucas shook his head, causing the beaded braids to swing. “I’m an athlete.”
Zach clapped his back. “Well, hell, so am I.”
A man with a skull mask and a black and white checkered jester costume pushed Zach. “He’s the serious type. So when are you guys headed to Australia?”
“That you, Barry?” Zach took a swig from his beer. “You seriously think you’re going to get laid looking like that?”
Lucas gripped his sword tighter. This was the jerk who picked on Maryanne and had Zach in his pocket with the sponsorship. Two zombie ladies with ghoulish fake blood and glistening scars clung on either side of Barry.
The jester gave Zach a noogie and waved his skull wand in Lucas’ direction. “Let me guess, Mr. Puritan here’s not having anything to drink. You give Captain Jack a bad name, buddy.”
One of the zombie ladies sidled up to Lucas and twirled her hand around the sash at his waist. She pushed her lips into his neck and licked. “You’re delicious enough to gobble up.”
Barry snapped his fingers at the waiter. “Shall we get Champ here a fruit drink? What do you want, a virgin margarita? Too bad Maryanne’s not.”
Lucas shook off the zombie lady and stepped away before he’d pop Barry in the jaw. His pulse roared behind his ears, amplified by the heat and noise. He took two long steps toward the door. An Elvira-looking woman blocked him with her ample bosom. “Leaving already, Captain Jack? I’m Mrs. Bowers, but you can call me Melissa.”
The woman scratched his cheek with a blood red fingernail. “You must be one of the triathletes my husband’s always talking about. Let’s meet him.”
“Hey, Pete!” Mrs. Bowers yelled. She latched onto Lucas’ hand and pulled him through the crowd.
Sweat bloomed on Lucas’ chest, and he tugged on his waistcoat. The temperature steamed near the heaters behind the orange-red fire display. A bat-like devil raised his wings and flapped to Elvira’s side.
“What’s your name, baby?” Mrs. Bowers slobbered into Lucas’ ear and squeezed the muscles at his waist.
The devil slapped Lucas on the shoulder. “You the one who won Tahoe? Zach Spencer’s training partner?”
“Yes, sir.” Lucas shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Tell you what,” the devil said. “Meet me Saturday and we’ll go on a bike ride or a swim. Your story’s perfect for OgleNet, and I want to hear it from your side. How does it feel to wonder whose child your girlfriend’s carrying? That is, if it really isn’t yours.” He knocked back a shot glass.
Lucas’ stomach clenched. Maybe he should go to Australia and get away from all the gossip. He’d return in February once everything was cleared up.
“Hey, there you are,” Zach made his way through the gyrating crowd. “Here’s your fruit juice.”
Lucas’ throat was parched, and he gulped the juice. “Thank you, man.”
A Captain America and Wonder Woman stopped to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Bowers. Lucas wiped the sweat from his nose. “Hey, Zach, think we can cut out soon?”
“Why, you found a date already?”
The pounding music and heat throbbed in Lucas’ temple. A wave of nausea punched his gut. He bent over and propped his hands on his knees. “Not feeling well.”
“You’re a lightweight.” Zach laughed. “Oh look, the Playboy bunnies. I’m sure they’ll take good care of you.”
Giggling, the girls dragged Lucas onto the dance floor. He danced with them, but everything seemed to move in slow motion. The song ended, and he shook off the dizziness. “Girls, thanks. I have to go.”
He took a step and stumbled. Black stripes clouded his vision, and his legs and arms felt numb. Had they slipped something into his drink? The Playboy bunnies grabbed him, and the floor gyrated beneath him. Lights flashed and loud voices yelled into his ear. Why couldn’t he understand what they were saying? Faces, hands, a tongue, lips, and fingernails dug into his flesh. Lucas yanked off his waistcoat and flung his hat on the floor. Hot, too hot. Need ice. Dying on the blacktop. Pounding miles and miles beneath his feet. Maryanne, where are you? The black stripes grew and filled the screen, and the music stopped.
~~~
Lucas groaned. His face was smashed on something silky. He cracked open gritty, sore eyes, resisting the urge to rub them. His head pounded like the crashing surf. Sunlight streaming through a lace curtain hurt his eyes. All
he was wearing were boxers and socks. The sheets were scrunched up, and the blanket was on the floor. Lucas patted the bed. Where were his clothes? His wallet and keys?
Whose bed was he on and how’d he get here? His head spinning, he forced himself to a sitting position. The pounding refused to recede, and his eyes ached out of their sockets. A constant ringing buzzed in his ears, and his gut churned with nausea.
He searched his memory, but nothing registered. Random images, the scent of strong drink and heavy perfume. Where was his costume? His clothes? A plaque on the wall said, “Mi casa es su casa.” He was in a guest room.
Lucas stumbled to the bath and stared in the mirror. A day’s worth of stubble itched on his face. The left side of his jaw was bruised with an indentation, possibly teeth marks.
He washed his face and soaped his chest and arms. The scratches on his chest stung. He bent over the sink and swallowed a plume of fear. He couldn’t recall taking off his clothes and falling into the bed. What the hell happened?
Wrapping a towel around his waist, Lucas tiptoed out of the room. A grand circular stairway stepped away from the other doors arranged around it. Halloween decorations lay tattered in the hallway. The carpet reeked with stale alcohol and other bodily fluids. A maid dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants was spraying foamy carpet cleaner on the top of the stairs.
“H-hello.” His voice barely cleared his dry throat.
The maid straightened and propped one hand on her hip. “Anything I can help you with?”
“Uh, yes. I-I don’t know where my clothes are.” He tightened the towel around his hips.
Her eyes scanned him up and down. “Must have been some party. You sure they aren’t in the room?”
“I-I oh, maybe they’re in the closet. Did you see my friend, Zach?”
A smirk creased the maid’s mouth. “Look, I’m the hired help, not the baby sitter. You need to use the phone, there’s one in the office.” She pointed to a double door at the far end of the hall.
“No problem. I have my cell, if I can find my clothes.”
The maid twisted her hair and rearranged the scrunchie. “I’ll help you look.”
“No, that’s fine.” Lucas backed into the room. He spied his bell-bottomed pirate’s pants under the bed. The shirt from his costume was ripped, but he put it on anyway. Where were the jacket and boots? His wallet was still in the pocket. He opened it quickly and found nothing missing.
The door opened.
“Hey,” Zach said. “Heard you were looking for me.”
“Sure, uh. Did you see my jacket and keys?”
“Keys over there.” Zach pointed to the floor near the night table. “Heard you had a great time. You get laid?”
Lucas’ face heated. “What was in that drink you gave me?”
“Sure, blame it on the drink,” Zach said.
“Did you put anything in it?” Bile grated in the back of his throat. “Tell me.”
“Hey, don’t blame me. The waiter handed it to me. Said he got it special from the kitchen.”
“Why would anyone give me a special drink?”
Zach punched his bicep. “My point exactly. Come on, let’s go.”
“Can’t find my boots.”
“Ah, forget it, one of the zombie women took it as a souvenir.”
Zombie women? Lucas rubbed the bite mark on his jaw. The two Playboy bunnies had yanked him on the dance floor, and after that, things got hazy. He palmed his head. No fever, or maybe a slight one. The throbbing in his head vibrated like the pounding rock music from the night before.
Lucas followed Zach across the cobblestone driveway and dived for the car. He didn’t want anyone to see him in this state. His head swam wildly as Zach navigated the curves. He patted his pocket and took out his wallet and keys. A prickly sensation buzzed his scalp. His phone was missing. He tapped Zach. “Can we turn back? I left my cell phone.”
“Ah, too late,” Zach replied as the car passed onto the Dumbarton Bridge. He handed Lucas his cell. “Call it and see if someone will pick up.”
Lucas entered his number. It went straight to voice mail. “I think it’s off or ran out of charge.”
“We can’t turn back. I have a meeting in a half an hour. Why don’t you call the Bowers and ask the maid?”
Lucas called the Bowers’ residence and spoke to the maid. She said she’d look in the room he vacated and let him know.
“Should I call you at this number?” she asked.
“Yes, thanks. It’s my friend’s phone.” Lucas returned the phone to Zach.
“Why don’t you report it lost and replace it?” Zach maneuvered into the left lane to pass a minivan.
Lucas clenched and unclenched his fist. He’d spent his father’s money on a pro quality bike and accessories, travel and entrance fees. Now he was a paid training partner to Zach Spencer, scion of a lucrative Melbourne area winery. “It’s okay, I’ll text Mr. Bowers from my laptop to let him know I left my phone at his place. Maybe when we work out together on Saturday he’ll have it.”
“Yeah, maybe. Open the glove compartment. I have a prepaid for emergencies you can use.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
Zach dropped Lucas off at the condo and drove off to his meeting with the church. Lucas rushed into the shower and cranked the water to steaming. He soaped himself multiple times, scrubbing his hair and every inch of his body. How had he let himself get out of control? The last thing he remembered was the fruit drink, dancing, crazy dancing, the stifling heat and then the lips and faces, kissing and clawing him. He banged his head against the tile shower enclosure. He felt dirty, like a piece of meat.
The thudding in his head and nausea merged into a continual pounding between his brain and gut. Violated and unclean. Maryanne must have felt this way when she was raped. But thankfully he was a man, and likely he passed out and put an end to their dirty dancing. Guilt wrung a wet towel around his forehead, and he clenched his fist so tight his knuckles popped. He’d been a plaything, a toy, a piece of flesh. His fingers puckered under the hot water, and he shut it off. The phone was ringing outside. He ran out dripping wet and picked it up.
“Lucas?” It was Maryanne. “Just called to say good morning.”
He grabbed a towel and dried himself. “Thanks.”
“Is everything okay? You usually give me a wake up call.”
“Oh, sorry.” He rubbed his face. “I got up late this morning.”
“Hmmm… You had a good time at the party?”
How did she know he’d been to a party. A bolt of adrenaline spiked in his chest, and he stifled a groan. The zombie chicks had been taking pictures. If Barry O’Brien had compromising pictures or videos of him, he’d be sure to wave it in Maryanne’s face.
“You feel okay?” Maryanne sounded concerned. “Want me to come over or do you have to work out?”
“I’m fine. Really. I… uh, have some things to do.” He leaned toward the mirror. The scratches were still purple. He rubbed alcohol over the love bite on his jaw and blinked from the sting. “I have to work out, that’s true. Well, maybe later?”
“Sure, dinner?”
“Uh…” His stomach turned. He couldn’t sit across from her and pretend nothing had happened. Her voice was relaxed so she had no clue, at least not yet. He caught a sniffle and coughed. “I think I’m coming down with something. Don’t want to get you sick.”
How did the lies come so easily? He fisted the towel and squeezed his eyelids. The nausea and throbbing headache expanded to the back of his throat.
“How about tomorrow?” she said. “I want to see you before you leave. I’m going to miss you.”
“Me too.” Bile surged to the back of his mouth. Once word got to her about his party exploits, she’d never speak to him again. “Maryanne?”
She was silent, as if she suspected a problem. The seconds ticked by. “Maryanne, you still there?”
“Is something wrong?”
Lucas dug his finger and
thumb between his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. The pressure increased behind his eyes. “I’ll call you later.”
Chapter 31
The dial tone hummed monotonously. He’d hung up on her! Maryanne replaced the phone on the wall and glanced at her cell. Lucas was not returning her text messages. He’d only picked up the call at Zach’s condo because he hadn’t recognized the Tanakas’ phone number.
A sourness edged into her gut. Maybe she should be thankful he’d lost interest. She pulled up her grad school applications and hit ‘send.’ She had her dreams, and he had his. A tear trailed down her cheek. She’d never forget him. The glass heart he made for her sat on her desk, red with purple and white swirls. She kissed it. “Lucas, I’ll always love you.”
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The Tanakas had Friday night fish fry, a family tradition where they invited the pastor’s family and a few friends. Maryanne cut paper dolls with Debby and Joy. Everyone suggested baby names and agreed that Sarah, as adoptive mother, would get the final pick. Right before bed, Maryanne let Sarah and Debby touch her abdomen and time the kicks with her. It was a special time for her baby’s new family to bond with her.
Maryanne shut off the lights and pulled up her blankets. She left the curtain open so she could stare into the night sky. A tiny sliver of moon remained. She counted the stars to the accompaniment of her baby’s hiccups and rubbed the baby’s back. A lump formed in her throat. What would it be like to give birth with Sarah and Tim standing at the foot of the bed? Would she swallow jealousy when the nurse handed her baby to them? Would she feel left out once her job was finished? The baby, her baby, would return to this room, but there’d be no place for her. No family, no Lucas, no love.
She got out of her bed and stood in front of the crib. The Winnie the Pooh mobile hung over the head where her baby would sleep. The bumper covers, matching blankets and nursery decorations were ready. She couldn’t back out now. The Tanakas had put such faith in her. She’d feel like a user if she didn’t go through with the adoption. Everyone praised her for her bravery, as if her one decision defined her life as a good person, a pro-life poster child. She swiped the tears from her eyes. If they knew, they’d all turn their backs on her.
Hidden Under Her Heart Page 24