There. Not here. Sure as hell not with him.
Not even if Jamey did seem to think it would be all right.
On the television, the comedy gave way to an issue-of-the-week movie. Leaving the table, Reid wandered over to the French doors. Two buildings stood directly across the street—one an abandoned storefront with a floor of empty apartments above, and Kathy’s House. Karen’s house. It looked out of place, a lovingly-cared-for Victorian set down in the midst of disrepair, neglect and deterioration. In Karen’s perfect world, all the buildings on Serenity would be brought back to their original state—the Victorians, the Creole cottages, the brick apartment buildings, the shotgun houses and every one of the abandoned businesses.
Of course, in Karen’s perfect world, every woman who wanted to be a mother would be one, and every mother would love her children. Every marriage would be happy, not one family would be poor, and violence, despair and hopelessness would be things of the past. In Karen’s world, parents wouldn’t hurt children, men wouldn’t hurt women and everyone would have value.
In Karen’s mythical, magical world, even he would have value. Maybe even enough to deserve a woman like Cassie Wade.
Movement on the street distracted him from his thoughts, drawing his attention to the car moving slowly down the street. Six months ago, it had been an Impala, beat-up, impossible for Reid, whose mechanical abilities were the only talent he possessed, to keep in good condition. The Impala had been stolen from a neighborhood not much more prosperous than Serenity, and it was hard to say whether the owner had ever missed it. The Morgans had driven it, often through that same neighborhood, for more than two years before Trevor totaled it in a crash with a police car on the same day Ryan had died,
This car was a Ford, no doubt also stolen, a slight improvement over the last. Its dented and crumpled body was the color of flat gray primer, but it ran a little smoother. As always, Trevor was behind the wheel. Vinnie had taken Ryan’s place in the front seat, and Elpidio Rodriguez was in Reid’s place in the back. Tanya was still in the same place, though, pressed up close to Rodriguez, making out as if she didn’t notice they weren’t alone. She noticed, of course. She just didn’t care.
Reid sighed and stepped farther into the shadows as the car crept past. Six months ago, it had never occurred to him that he might actually miss Tanya. He’d had little patience for her then, little use for her, he was ashamed to admit, outside of bed. Everything about her was loud and vulgar, which hadn’t bothered him at all in the beginning. Toward the end, though, he’d wondered why she had to be so flashy and bold. Why had she craved everyone’s attention? Why had she been so blatantly sexual? Why hadn’t she shown just a hint of class like Alicia, Karen or Cas—
With a scowl, he forced his thoughts back to Tanya. The surprise was that he did miss her. She was easy to be with. She was generous in bed. So what if she had embarrassed him from time to time with her clinginess and her absolute lack of inhibitions? What did it matter if she didn’t know the meaning of fidelity? Who cared if she wasn’t too bright, if her only goal in life was to have a good time, if she was very much like Meghan had been twenty years ago? He missed her.
What he really missed was the sex. The intimacy. The companionship. The warm body in his bed. The affection. He missed the connection with another human being. He missed the feeting—however temporary, for fifteen minutes or all night long—that he mattered. When he was with Tanya, he’d been important to her. What she’d wanted couldn’t be done without a man, and when he was the man, she’d needed, wanted and appreciated him.
He missed being wanted.
After shutting off the television, he carried his dishes to the kitchen, then went upstairs. The second floor was quiet. His apartment was the closest thing to a real home he’d ever had, but he felt like a guest. This was Jamey’s apartment, Jamey’s building. His father had never wanted him here before. Now that he did, Reid couldn’t quite seem to fit in. He couldn’t trust that he was welcome here now and that he would continue to be welcome next month, next year and the year after that.
Kind of like his life. The only place he’d ever fit in was with the Morgans and Vinnie, but he didn’t belong there now. He didn’t belong anywhere. He had to find a new place for himself, a new life for himself, or give up trying.
But he couldn’t quit trying. No matter what happened, he couldn’t quit. And who knew? Maybe someday everything he did would add up to enough. Enough to make things right with his father. Enough to deserve everything his stepmother had already given him. Enough, maybe, to someday earn a place of his own. A place to belong.
And someone to belong to.
Chapter 3
By four o’clock Monday afternoon, Cassie was pooped. The last of the students had been escorted home, a responsibility she shared with Jaye Stephens, the other teacher. The classroom had been swept, the chairs put back in some order and tomorrow’s lesson plans reviewed. It was time to go home, put her feet up and go over the work the kids had done in class today.
She would use these first few weeks to determine each student’s level and to design a personal learning plan for each one. Some of them had never been to school before. The others had gone, but only sporadically. J.T. was the only one of her thirteen kids who had attended regularly and practically the only one who received support at home. Shawntae read to him daily, checked his homework and discussed the school day with him. Just as important, she didn’t discount his dreams or rein in his imagination. She never hinted that he couldn’t be a doctor, an astronaut or a superhero because he was black and poor or because the odds were against him.
Serenity could use a lot more mothers like Shawntae.
A rap at the door caught her attention. Jaye, her arms full of papers and books, was standing in the doorway. “You’ve got a message here to see Jamey over at O’Shea’s when you’re done,” she said with a nod toward the yellow sticky note on the door. “I’m outta here. See you tomorrow.”
“Be careful.” As Jaye left, Cassie repeated the words softly. How many thousands of times had she given the admonition or been on the receiving end of it? So many that it had lost its meaning. It had become synonymous with farewells of lesser importance: Goodbye, See you later, Take care.
But not on Serenity. Down here when a person said Be careful it was important. It could be the difference between living and dying.
Gathering her own armload of work, Cassie shut off the lights and securely locked the door behind her. She left the work in her car, then crossed the lawn, waving to Elly through her office window. The nurse made an exaggerated face, and a shriek from behind the woman reminded Cassie that today was immunization day. Once a month, the three rooms shared by Elly and Susannah Sinclair were home to screaming babies and teary toddlers unable to find any good at all in getting stuck with a needle. Cassie didn’t envy them the job.
As soon as she stepped through the gate and onto the sidewalk, Cassie’s thoughts narrowed in on the apartment above O’Shea’s. The windows were open, the curtains fluttering in the light breeze. There was no sign of its occupant, though. Maybe he’d worked late at the garage. Maybe he was running errands. Maybe he was with a woman. Maybe, if she was very, very lucky, he was downstairs in the bar.
The interior of O’Shea’s was dimly lit, requiring a moment’s adjustment before she could see clearly. There was an elderly gentleman seated at one table, a glass of whiskey and the remains of a sandwich in front of him. Though Jamey had initially been against Karen’s plans for the women’s center, it was no surprise that he’d eventually come around. What she wanted to do for the entire neighborhood, he had long been doing for his customers—looking out for them, making life easier for them. If anyone ever used his own favorite description of the volunteers at the center on him—do-gooder—he would adamantly deny it, but he was.
Cassie greeted the old man, then slid onto a stool at the bar. Jamey was standing behind it, but Reid wasn’t around. “Hi. I got your message.�
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He removed the toothpick from between his teeth and leaned forward, resting his arms on the bar. “How was your first day of school?”
“Tiring. I’d forgotten how wild thirteen little kids can get.”
“I thought you’d be an old hand with kids, what with a million nieces and nephews who adore you.”
“They do adore me. But I don’t keep thirteen of them for seven and a half hours soraight.” She shrugged. “It was fine. Fun. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
He reached into the cooler behind the bar to pull out a cold soda. She accepted it with thanks and was taking a deep drink when he spoke again. “I understand you’re looking for an apartment down here.”
She almost choked on the drink. Managing to swallow without spilling any, she set the can down and fixed her reproachful gaze on him. “Why am I surprised he told you?”
“When Karen told me that her friends didn’t know she had moved to Serenity, the first thing I did was call Jolie and break the news. She and Smith were over here in less than three hours to try to change her mind.”
“So tattling runs in the family.”
His faint smile was regretful. Karen insisted on calling their little group a family, but to Cassie’s knowledge, Jamey didn’t. Reid didn’t, either. She had little doubt, though, that they would like to be a family, if they could ever figure out how.
“Please don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m a grown woman. I have a college degree, a job and everything. I’ve been spending most of my free time down here for the past six months, and now I’m going to be spending all of my work time down here. Living here is the right thing to do.”
“I wasn’t planning to try to change your mind. You’re a bright kid. You’re also stubborn—I believe even more so than Karen, and you see what success I had in changing her mind.” He straightened, glanced down the hall behind the bar, then back at her. “Actually I wanted to make you an offer. You probably know that there are two apartments upstairs. Reid lives in one. I used to live in the other. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s as good as any place you’re likely to find on Serenity and better than most, and the rent is within your budget. You can have it for free.”
She tried to contain her excitement. “I can afford to pay.”
“Yeah, right. Don’t forget—I know how much you make.” Then he shook his head. “I don’t want your money, Cassie. I’ve got the place, it’s empty and someone might as well make use of it. Besides, when you tell Jolie and your folks that you’re moving down here, maybe it will help appease them if you’re moving into my place. So...” He grinned. “Want to see it?”
“Sure.” She slid to the floor as he called to the old man to watch the bar. He led the way down the hall and up a narrow flight of stairs that opened into a hall that ran front to back down the center of the building. Three doors opened off the hall, one on the right, one on the left and one at the back.
“That’s the bathroom,” Jamey said, gesturing toward the end of the hall. “There’s only one on the floor, so both apartments share. Are you comfortable with that?”
“I come from a family of fifteen. We had one bathroom on Serenity. When we moved to Oak Street to a house with two bathrooms, Daddy thought he was in heaven. He actually had an occasional chance at getting an uninterrupted moment to shave every morning.”
He turned to the door on the right, which meant that the door on the left led to Reid’s apartment. Was he in there? Did he know his father had planned to make this offer? Would he mind having a neighbor?
The door wasn’t locked. Jamey opened it, then stepped back for her to enter first. Nothing fancy, he’d said, and she agreed. Better than most down here, he’d added, and she agreed with that, too. The living room was a nice size and practically empty, with a sofa that sagged in the middle and a scarred coffee table. The only furniture in the bedroom, through a double-wide door, was a full-size bed.
“When I moved out, I moved the rest of the furniture into Reid’s apartment,” Jamey said. “You can use this or get rid of it. I don’t care.”
“What about a kitchen?”
“It’s downstairs.”
She walked into the bedroom and took a look around at its high ceiling, bare floor and closet in one corner, then slowly smiled. “Can I paint it?”
“Doesn’t matter to me. Ask Karen before you buy anything. She’s got gallons of paint, brushes, rollers, the works, out in the workshop. You want it?”
She turned in a slow circle, imagining different colors on the walls. Yellow, she decided. The rich, buttery yellow that Karen had used in the tower room that served as a nursery for the center’s clients. A few rugs on the floor, bright white paint on the woodwork, the old wicker dresser her mother had been storing for her for years and soft white bedding... She gave him her biggest smile. “Yes. Absolutely. Thanks you.”
With a nod, he turned to leave. She followed as far as the bedroom door. “Jamey? Does Reid know?”
He shook his head.
“Will he mind?”
“I don’t know why he would,” he said with just a touch too much innocence. “You’re not going to have wild parties or play loud music in the middle of the night and disturb his sleep, are you?”
She could think of better ways to disturb Reid’s nights. She just wasn’t sure she was capable. After all. compared to Tanya the sex goddess, she was pretty plain and tame. She’d never been wicked a day in her life. She was totally lacking in experience...but not in imagination. Not in curiosity. Certainly not in desire.
She cleared her throat to chase away the unaccustomed huskiness that had settled there. “Maybe you’d better talk to him first.”
“It’s my place, Cassie.”
“Yes, but he lives here. He may be perfectly comfortable alone.”
“He spends too much time alone.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Unfortunately she was pretty sure he would prefer solitude to her company. “I really don’t want to disturb him.”
Jamey grinned again. “Darlin’, everyone needs to be disturbed from time to time. Look, if it makes you happy, I’ll talk to Reid. Unless he objects—”
“To what?”
Jamey turned, and Cassie gazed past him to the door. Reid was standing there, a take-out bag from a French Quarter restaurant in one hand and a soda in the other. “Unless Reid objects to what?” he asked again.
His father looked at Cassie and shrugged. “I’ve got to get back downstairs. Why don’t you talk to him?”
“Coward,” she mumbled under her breath as he left. Forced to move from the doorway to let him pass, Reid came a few steps farther into the room. “Hey, Reid.”
His gaze settled on her, shifted away for a look around the mostly empty place, then came back again. There was suspicion in his blue eyes and an all too familiar scowl tightening his mouth. “No.” He drew the word out, part question, part distaste, part plea.
She said nothing and tried to look innocent.
“You’re not moving in here.”
“Your father offered me the place, as long as you don’t mind.”
“I mind. There are a hundred empty apartments on Serenity. Why this one? Hell, why not stay in your million-dollar condo?”
“We’ve already been over my reasons for wanting to move here. If you don’t want me in this building, that’s fine. Jamey was just trying to do me a favor. He knows I don’t make much money, and he thought maybe my family wouldn’t mind so much if they knew I was close to him and Karen. But it’s okay. I’ll look elsewhere.” She started to walk past him, but he stopped her with a grudging question.
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the house where my family used to live. The gray one on the other side of the street.”
“Vinnie Marino lives in that building.”
She knew that. Tanya lived there, too. Cassie had occasionally caught herself wondering which apartment Tanya lived in and whether Reid had ever spent much time there wi
th her. Wouldn’t it be a hoot if she lived in the old Wade apartment, if she slept in the bedroom Cassie had shared with too many sisters, if Tanya and Reid had shared their wicked fun in Cassie’s very own room?
She hated the thought. She hated the jealousy. She particularly hated the other woman.
“I imagine at least one disreputable person lives in every building in the neighborhood,” she said softly. “I can’t pass up a place to live for that reason.”
“Some of those ’disreputable persons’ would kill you if they had the chance.”
“So I won’t give them the chance. I’ll tell Jamey thanks but no thanks. I’ll find some other place.” This time she made it as far as the door before he stopped her again.
“Damn it, you can’t make things easy, can you?”
For a moment, she kept her gaze on the hall. It was lit by a single overhead bulb and clearly considered the least important part of the living quarters. The walls hadn’t been painted in so long that, in the dim light, it was impossible to tell exactly what color they had once been. The floor was wood planks painted dark brown to match the doors and the casing that bordered them. There were no rugs, nothing hanging on the walls, no furnishings at all. Given free rein, she would paint it some bright and airy color. The wood would be white from one end to the other and all the way down the stairs. Thick, nubby rugs would cover much of the floor, and she would add a small half-round table to one side and a bench with clean, uncluttered lines to the other. She would turn the walls into a miniature gallery to display Reid’s work, and she would add lights overhead and on the walls, plus maybe a funky, one-of-a-kind floor lamp next to the bench.
The Taming Of Reid Donovan Page 6