Alex wrapped her arms around her sisters. She felt for Grace. Sometimes her family could be overbearing and nosy, but most of the time they were a source of comfort and security. “We miss you, too, Gracie.”
When they stepped back, Grace was sniffling. She pulled off her glove and grabbed a tissue from the pocket of her jean jacket. “Am I spoiled or what?” She didn’t wait for an answer, adding, “I try to tell myself to suck it up and get more involved in the Detroit world, but it’s so darn cold I can barely make myself take Rip for a walk.” Rip was Nick’s dog. “And Nick’s parents just left on a cruise, so now I’m really alone.”
“So they’re not selling their house and moving?” Alex asked.
“They took it off the market. I don’t think they know what they want to do. Right now, Jurek is house-sitting for them.”
Jurek was Nick’s birth father.
“Will they still be traveling over Christmas?” Liz asked.
“No. They plan to spend Christmas with Nick’s sister, and then fly down here for New Year’s Eve. We’ll go back together.” The last came out as a tearful hiccup, which made Liz and Alex look at each other and laugh.
“She really is spoiled,” Liz said.
“Pathetic,” Alex agreed.
Grace stuck out her tongue then skipped back to the fence to finish her lighting job. “Not my fault. I grew up believing I was a Gypsy princess, and now my husband-to-be treats me like a queen.”
Liz groaned. “Braggart. But speaking of fiancés, there’s mine. Sorry, Alex, I have to run. Once we get the girls unpacked, Paul and I are going to Romantique for dinner. I swear he can’t get enough of that place, which is fine with me because one, I hate to cook and two, I have to deliver some tea.”
Alex watched Liz dash across the street and disappear into their mother’s home. The lightness in her step made Alex smile.
“She’s like a different person, isn’t she?”
Alex turned to find Grace right beside her. She hadn’t heard her walk up. “Um…yeah. They say love will do that to a person.”
“It’s true. I remember thinking the same thing about you when you fell in love with Mark.”
“Really? Weren’t you living in Colorado then?”
Grace nodded. “Yup, and every time I came home, it was like watching a documentary on falling in love. You and Mark were so perfect for each other. You looked great together and you were obviously madly in love.” She shrugged. “You two set the bar really high, let me tell you. Which in no way explains how I managed to fall for such a loser the first time around—before I met Nikolai.”
Alex smiled. Grace was always quick to poke fun at herself. She was now even able to joke about her relationship with a gorgeous ski bum who’d cheated on her. Which, ironically, was not unlike Alex’s situation.
“Getting back to Mark and his kid,” Grace said a second later, “are you sure this is a good idea? Isn’t seeing him on a daily basis opening yourself up to old heartache?”
Alex bent over to pick up the spare lights and put them in the plastic storage box. “I don’t think so. What happened between us was a long time ago. I’ve dated quite a few men since Mark and—”
“None of them matched up to him.”
True, but not the point she was trying to make. “And I’ve decided that unlike my very lucky sisters, there is no Mr. Right looking for me.”
Grace made a yelp as if Alex had kicked her. “No, don’t say that. You know there’s a man for you. Your prophecy says…” Alex could see Grace trying to recall the exact wording of the prediction their mother had made when Alex was a little girl.
A child’s laughter can heal a wounded heart, if first you heal the child.
Back then, Alex had believed it.
She’d embraced the idea that Mark was the child who’d needed healing. From the first time he’d talked about his relationship with his father, she’d understood that beneath his tough-cop bravado was a wounded little boy. She’d been convinced her love had helped heal his torment. They’d laughed and loved and been so happy together.
Until…Braden.
“Let’s drop it, Grace, okay? I still have a lot of things to get done around here, and didn’t I hear you were helping out at the restaurant tonight?”
Grace sighed. “Yeah. For old times’ sake. I miss Romantique, too, but don’t tell Nikolai. He’d feel badly. He tries to be my everything, and he is—in certain ways,” she said with a playful grin, “but I guess a part of me will always be here with my family.”
Alex understood. “I used to feel embarrassed because I was over thirty and living across the street from my parents. But not anymore. This works for me. I love my family, and the proximity will be even more important when I—” She stopped herself just in time.
“When you…?”
Damn. She had to blow it with Grace. “When I’m old and decrepit. What else?”
Grace had a suspicious look in her eyes, but before she could say anything, a horn sounded and Kate pulled into the cul-de-sac. “I have warm Danish,” she called. “My mother-in-law’s gift to Grace, but we all get to share.”
“Danish? I love Jo’s Danish,” Grace exclaimed, doing a little dance. “It may mean ordering my wedding dress one size larger, but Nikolai says he likes a little meat on my bones.”
Mark used to tell Alex that, too. Her weight had never bothered her. Even in her teens, when all her friends were on crash diets, Alex had felt comfortable in her body. If a guy wasn’t interested in a size-sixteen girl, then his loss, she’d figured.
Grace paused at the gate. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Go ahead and start without me. I have to put these boxes in the shed.”
“Better hurry. I’m not promising to save you anything.”
Alex laughed and picked up the mostly empty box. She was taking Liz’s advice and sticking to a healthy diet. No extra fats or refined sugar. But she didn’t intend to tell her family that. Not yet.
MARK WAS SORTING LAUNDRY when the call came. As usual, he checked the number before answering. He recognized the caller. His heart rate increased. Take it or not?
“Oh, hell, she’ll track me down if I don’t,” he mumbled.
“What do you want, Odessa?”
“A civil greeting, for one thing,” the woman replied.
Mark didn’t say a word.
“You’re a hard, unforgiving man, Mark Gaylord. Why my daughter worked so hard to snag you is beyond me.”
Snag. Great word. Made him feel like a fish scooped out of the river.
“Make your point, Odessa. I don’t have time for chitchat.”
“Chitchat? Is that what you call it when I haven’t seen my baby grandson in two months and every time I call, you make some lame excuse about his mental state? I’m sick of the run-around, Mark. I want to see my grandson. Now. Today.”
“Impossible. I just got him settled in a new after-school program. He’s doing better and I don’t want you upsetting him.”
“Me? I’m not the one who killed his mother—your wife.”
The words sounded hauntingly like the rumor being whispered around the fire house. “Tracey and I were divorced, Odessa. You know that. I had nothing to do with what happened to her, and I resent the—”
“You’ll resent a lot more once they put you in jail for murder, won’t you?”
Mark’s hands stilled on the pile of cold, damp jeans that he was preparing to put in the dryer. The reopening of Tracey’s case wasn’t common knowledge. No charges had been filed. How had she heard about it? “What are you talking about?”
“You know,” she said with a cackle. “Tracey still has friends in the department. Finally, the truth will come out and vindicate my poor baby girl. You sent her to that evil place. You tricked her into going there, then you set up some sort of bomb and had it rigged to blow when she went in. You did it, Mark. You killed my daughter.”
The words echoed in Mark’s head even as he hung up the receiver
. Feeling light-headed, he turned around, intending to get a glass of water to calm his nerves.
Braden was standing a few feet away. Had he heard his grandmother’s charges? How could he not? The woman had been practically shrieking. None of the specialists had ever said Braden’s hearing was compromised, only his ability to speak.
On impulse, Mark bent over and picked up his son. He set him on the dryer so they were just about eye to eye. “That was your Grandma Odessa. She’s never really forgiven me for marrying your mother. I can’t do anything about that, but I don’t have to listen to her. If she calls back, I won’t pick up the phone. Are we clear on that?”
Braden nodded.
Mark took a breath and let it go. The room smelled like fabric softener and warm moist heat. But the cozy safety had been violated, and Mark only knew one way to escape his fears—outrun them. “How ‘bout we take the bikes and get out of here?”
Braden nodded again, with volume.
“Cool. Go change your clothes. A warm sweatshirt, for sure. I have one quick call to make.” Probably a mistake. A big mistake. But…he punched in the number he’d already memorized. She picked up on the third ring. She sounded breathless, as if she’d run in from outdoors.
“Alex, it’s Mark. I wanted to share my good news. Braden has nodded affirmative. Twice. And the second time was almost loud.”
Her laugh made him feel better about the call. He’d known she would understand. This was progress, of sorts, and she’d undoubtedly played a part in making that happen. Braden had been sleeping better since he’d started going to the Hippo. He still had nightmares, but they didn’t seem as bad. So she deserved to share in the rewards, right?
“Bray and I are going for a bike ride. Out in Red Rock Canyon. Do you want to go with us?”
She didn’t answer right away. He could almost hear all the reasons not to go racing through her head, but he waited. Hopeful. Nervous. Ridiculous.
“I shouldn’t. I still have so much to do around here, but I haven’t been to Red Rocks since before my dad’s first stroke. He used to take us girls hiking there all the time. I’m tempted—even if I won’t be able to keep up with two guys on bikes.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll let you set the pace. Can you be ready in twenty minutes?”
“Um…sure. Why not?”
Chapter Six
“‘Why not?’ Did I honestly say ‘why not?’” Alex muttered hanging up the phone. “Good grief. Let me call one of my sisters and get a list of all the reasons why I have no business going anywhere with Mark. Starting with the fact that he’s the low-down rotten bastard who cheated on me.”
But much as she wanted to hate him, she didn’t.
“What’s wrong with me? Hormones?” She looked at her belly as if expecting to see some visual proof of the menacing little secretions pulsing through her body.
She unclenched her grip on a red-and-white felt Santa decoration and sighed. The truth was each December she found it harder and harder to muster the appropriate level of holiday spirit necessary for working with children. As much as she loved watching her charges discover the marvels of the season, something was missing. She wanted to shop, decorate and bake for her own family.
She tossed Santa back into the box and patted her tummy. “Maybe next year,” she murmured. “But, now, I’m playing hooky. Liz said exercise was a must for pre-prenatal mothers, so…” She hurried into her room to change clothes. A couple of layers. Extra socks. Sunscreen—even the winter sun could burn in this part of the country. Stretchy workout gloves that she’d bought last year when Grace had been on a self-improvement kick.
Her bike was in the shed at the back of the lot. She kept her fingers crossed that the tires weren’t flat. “A little low, but not bad,” she said as she wheeled it into the yard. She used a rag to dust off the seat then pushed it through the side gate to the covered carport where her compact sedan sat. She didn’t have a bike lock, and even in a nice neighborhood like this, it wasn’t a good idea to leave things sitting around.
“Water bottle, lip gloss, energy bars…” She was making a list of items to retrieve from her kitchen when she spotted Luca whiz past on his bicycle.
Putting two fingers between her lips, she whistled. The little boy jammed on the brakes and turned around. “Hey.”
She motioned him closer. “Would you do me a favor and watch my bike while I run inside. I need a couple of things.”
“Sure. Where are you riding to?”
Can I come?
He didn’t say the words out loud, but Alex heard them in his tone. Poor kid. Forced to grow up too fast when his mother got sick and his dad had to do everything.
“Braden and his dad are taking me with them. I don’t know what kind of vehicle Mr. Gaylord drives. If there’s room for a fourth bike, do you want to come with us?”
His shoulders lifted and fell in a careless gesture, but Alex could see the interest in his eyes. She sincerely hoped Mark wouldn’t mind having another child along.
She’d just barely returned with her sack of goodies when a Dodge pickup truck pulled into her driveway. The four-door vehicle looked plenty large to accommodate another bike. Please say yes, Mark, she thought, hurrying to meet him.
“Hi, Mark. You’re fast. I think my tires could use a little air, but my cousin, Gregor, has a pump, doesn’t he, Luca?”
Luca nodded.
Mark greeted Alex and smiled a greeting at the boy beside her. “Great. I’ve been meaning to buy one, but we don’t ride as often as we should and it seems to slip my mind between times.” He paused and then said, “Luca, would you like to come with us? If your dad says it’s okay, of course.”
Alex’s heart did a trippy little dance that reminded her of when she and Mark had first met. He always did the right thing when it came to kids.
“Okay,” Luca said. “He won’t care. He’s doing laundry and watching football.”
Mark took the knapsack Alex was carrying and wheeled her bike toward the truck. “We should hurry. It gets dark so early this time of year.”
Alex and Braden followed Mark and Luca across the street. Sure enough, Gregor was happy to see his son doing something constructive, although he did pull Alex aside while Luca and Mark retrieved the hand pump and said, “Is that who I think it is?”
She nodded. “Probably. Mark and I were engaged once. A long time ago.”
“That’s what I thought. And now…”
“Now his son…” she put a hand on Braden’s shoulder “…is coming to the Hippo after school. He and Luca have been getting to know each other.” Not completely true. Neither boy had made any effort to spend time together, but they crossed paths every day. “This will be fun for both of them.”
“Sure,” Greg said. “Better than having him moping around here all day. He could have gone to the ranch with Dad and Gemilla, but he didn’t have his homework done.”
Greg’s father, Alex’s uncle, Claude, had moved in with Greg’s brother a few months earlier. All of the children loved spending time at the small ranch west of town where Claude raised Shetland ponies. “But I checked Luca’s homework last night. He said he only had math, and he completed that before I let him play his video game.”
Mark and Luca had returned. Luca looked down as his father explained, “Extra-credit reading. He had a book report to write, and he just finished it a few minutes ago. Right, son?”
Luca nodded.
Alex understood. Her cousin’s son was as smart as a whip, but he had a slight learning disability that made reading difficult for him. He could do the work, but it took time, and like most kids his age preferred play over schoolwork.
“Great. You got it done. That means you can go with us. Shall we?”
Mark quickly secured Luca’s bike beside Alex’s and they were off, heading west. The first leg of their journey wound past high-end housing developments and golf courses that had a Southern California look to them. But once the houses stopped, the desert took ove
r.
“So close and yet I get out here so seldom,” Alex said with a sigh. She was enjoying the view from the comfortable passenger seat of the four-wheel-drive truck.
“I know what you mean. I bought an annual pass to Red Rocks thinking that would make me come out more often. Just hasn’t happened, has it, Bray? When was the last time we were here?”
The lack of a reply seemed to change the tension level in the cab of the truck. Country music was playing on the satellite radio, but the volume wasn’t loud enough to fill the void.
Alex turned in her seat so she could see the two boys in the back. “How ‘bout a game of roadside hangman?”
The word game made Luca sit up straighter and look around. A natural competitor, he seemed intent on being the first one to spot something that started with the letter H.
“Hole,” he said, pointing to a divot scooped out of a hillside by a big yellow backhoe.
“Very good. Let’s see who gets the letter A.”
Nobody spoke for a minute then Mark said, “Alligator.”
Alex, Luca and Braden looked at each other dubiously. “Yeah, right,” Alex said, speaking for all of them.
“No, seriously. See that hunk of tire on the side of the road? Truck drivers call them gators. Short for alligator.”
Alex looked at Braden. “Do we believe him?”
The child nodded.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “Mark has the second letter. But the next is a toughie—N.”
She scanned the road ahead and pointed. “Not as hard as I thought. There’s the word Nevada. On the sign. Right there. You saw it, right?”
Mark groaned. “Yeah, I saw it, but I think that’s cheating. What do you guys say?”
She saw the boys look at each other and make some kind of silent agreement. “She can have it,” Luca said. “What’s next?”
Alex spelled out H-A-N-G…“G.”
They drove in silence for a few miles then a small voice said, “Gr-green.”
The Quiet Child Page 6