Stripper: The Fringe, Book 4

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

“Do you understand now why I call her Scary Mary?”

  “Only a fool would underestimate that woman.”

  “Then I’m a fool. Because I did. Once. Never again. At the moment, it seems one could leave a toddler alone and that child would find little trouble to get into. No sharp edges. Everything soft and safe. But Mary would find any hole in security. Even the littlest thing. She told you, didn’t she? About her forthcoming child?”

  “Yes. She’s like you said, scary but also very kind. Michael won’t hurt her for what she did, will he?”

  “Absolutely not. Michael loves Mary to a degree that’s… He won’t hurt her.”

  “You admire her so much.” Diane felt a pang of jealousy.

  “Mary is…unique. So are you. So is Scott.”

  “What about school? Mary told me you’ve done a lot for the schools on Windmere.”

  “I always anticipated I’d have my own kids. Scott’s school is right down the road. We can walk him. Tomorrow is Saturday, so we’ll have two days together to get everything ready. I want him to meet the MacKays next door. Bill and Sherry have twin boys, Billy and Jared, who are roughly Scott’s age. Their boys spend time over here and will be even more welcome now. I know they’ll open their home to Scott. There’s about a month left in the school year at this point. That’ll give him time to make friends and be ready for the summer break.”

  “It sounds as if you already have it all planned out.” God, more talk about children. Duster’s obsession only aggravated her fear.

  “Anything you don’t like so far?”

  “No. Just…this has been a very long day.” With so many ups and downs, Diane could barely find her feet, let alone stand.

  “Are you trying to get me into bed?” Duster pressed his mouth to her ear. “If you are, you don’t have to twist my arm very hard. Gee, let me think—not at all.”

  “Duster, I really—”

  He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “I know. Come with me.”

  Gently, he helped her rise from the couch, then led her to their room. “I’d really like to take a shower before bed. Care to join me? No hanky-panky, well, maybe some hanky with a smidgen of panky, but mostly just a shower.”

  “If you promise to behave.”

  “I will.” Duster crossed his heart. He took her into her bathroom, which was decorated in rose pink and hunter green. They stripped down while sneaking peeks at one another. She hoped he found her body as beautiful as she found his. Seven years had been more than kind to him.

  Duster kept his word. Their mutual shower was mostly a lot of hot looks and slippery, soap-covered hands. She found his touch more calming than arousing. After all the sexual tension between them, Duster sought not to entice but to calm her. Her agitation seemed to melt away with the hot water and soothing strokes in the floral-scented, steamy air. When they finished, they dried off, and he took her to his bed. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but all he did was lie down next to her and curl his body along the length of hers.

  Duster uttered a sigh of deep and blissful contentment.

  “You’re not going to make me perform my wifely duties?” She asked it partly in jest but also with curiosity. He had more self-control than any man she’d ever heard of.

  “As appealing as the idea is, I thought I’d skip it. For tonight, at least.” Chuckling, he turned serious as he stroked his hand soothingly down her damp hair, combing the wet strands to her neck, across her shoulder, then down her arm to his chest where he drew the strands across. “You’re exhausted. So am I. I’m sure you could breathe a second wind into me something fast and furious, but I’d rather wait for the right time.” He pressed his lips to her ear. “I’m kinda liking this anticipation thing.”

  Diane laughed gently. “You are a most unique man, my husband.”

  “Say that again.”

  “My husband?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “I like the possessive way you say it, my wife.”

  Shivering, wrapping her arms around him, she whispered it over and over in his ear until he held her face. Softly, like a butterfly wing brushing against her lips, Duster kissed her.

  “We have it all, Diane. We can bring as many children as we please to share it with us. A house filled with children.”

  “You want that more than anything, don’t you?” Diane felt at once sharp elation and crushing fear. Duster didn’t know how difficult her labor with Scott had been. He had no idea of how terrified of a repeat she was.

  “I’ve built this whole world in anticipation of it.” Duster snuggled her tightly to him, then stopped, pulling away. “You don’t want—”

  “I want that so much.” What she wanted was to please him, but not at the expense of her very existence. Giving birth to Scott had almost killed her. What if a second child did? Tears filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She wanted to do what Mary did and kick a pillow around for a few hours to relieve her stress.

  “Diane, what’s wrong?” Brushing her tears away, he kissed her face. “Why does that make you cry?”

  She didn’t want to tell him and have him worry over what might have been nothing. Just because her first birth had been difficult didn’t mean her second would be that way. Her fear wasn’t baseless, but it wasn’t totally legitimate either. She felt conflicted by wanting to give Duster his heart’s desire and wanting to keep herself alive.

  “Mom?”

  Diane bolted up.

  Duster followed.

  Scott stood trembling in the doorway to their bedroom.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Diane fumbled for her robe and slipped it on before she climbed out of bed.

  “I had a bad dream.”

  “I’ll go.” Duster pulled on his robe.

  “Not you!” Hysterical, Scott pointed his trembling finger at Duster like an accusation.

  “You don’t need to yell,” Diane reminded Scott gently as she patted his shoulder. “Let’s go back to your room and talk about it, okay?”

  “I don’t want him to come with.” Scott’s eyebrows drew together from fear.

  Caught between them, Diane had no idea what had caused this sudden shift in Scott’s attitude toward Duster.

  “It’s okay. I’ll wait here.” Duster plunked himself onto the bed.

  Grateful, Diane took Scott back to his room and tucked him into his spaceship bed. “Why are you upset with your father? He hasn’t done anything.”

  “He took you away.” Bursting into tears of frustration, Scott pressed himself to her with fierce arms.

  “In your dream?”

  Scott nodded, wiping his nose on her robe, then more fully along the sleeve of his nightshirt. Diane got a bit of tissue from the bathroom and had him blow his nose.

  “Honey, you know dreams aren’t real.”

  “Sheldon’s gone.”

  “Sheldon’s on Dahank. He’s not gone. We can write to him. Remember? Like we did when we went to Corona for vacation?” Three months of time together exploring funky shops, museums and pseudoscientific exhibits. Unbelievably fascinated by the macabre, Scott had to see every plastibone replica in the whole city. Museums also had all kinds of things in jars. Anything milky and pale or dark and sinister in a jar was worth serious scrutiny. Horrified at first, Diane found out this was a completely normal thing for little boys to do. The yuckier the better. Through it all, they’d kept in almost constant contact with Sheldon.

  “Dad won’t stop me?”

  “He’ll help you if you ask him. He loves you very much.”

  “He won’t take you away? Like Sheldon?”

  “Honey, your father didn’t take Sheldon away. Sheldon is still on Dahank. In our old home. He didn’t go away—we did. Sheldon didn’t come with us, but he isn’t gone. All of our friends are still on Dahank. We can write to them whenever we want.”

  “Visit them?”

  “Of course.” Diane hoped to all the gods worshiped on the Fringe she wasn’t makin
g promises she couldn’t keep. For all she knew, Michael wouldn’t ever let her speak to a soul she’d once known, let alone Scott. All Michael had to say was their communications were a security risk, and that would be that. Worse, he might never let her or her son off his planet.

  Chapter Twenty

  Duster listened from the hallway as Diane soothed Scott’s fear. No wonder to him the poor kid freaked out and had a bad dream. Scott’s whole world changed overnight. Barely able to cope with the changes himself at what should be a manly and capable twenty-nine years, it didn’t surprise Duster in the least that a little kid like Scott had fears and doubts.

  Voice of an ever-patient angel, Diane answered his questions as she tucked him back to bed. “Will you be able to sleep?”

  “Yeah.” Scott sniffed loudly. “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can we get a puppy now?”

  Duster had to bite his lips not to laugh. Amazing how swift a little mind turned to the most important things.

  “We’ll see,” Diane offered diplomatically.

  “You always say that.” A little bit of nightmare fear edged Scott’s voice but mostly accusatory rebellion. “You said we didn’t have enough room. Now we do. We have gobs of room. Dad’s house is huge!”

  “Yes, I know, but I need to talk to your father about getting a puppy. It’s not fair for me to say yes without asking him.”

  “He’s the boss now, not you?” Scott clearly wanted to define the lines of authority.

  Duster couldn’t wait to hear what Diane would say.

  “We’re the boss together.”

  Ooh, good answer, Duster thought.

  “We all have to learn to work together. A family is like a team, like your hockey team.”

  Duster couldn’t see it, but he’d just bet Scott rolled his eyes.

  “Do you want me to sleep in here with you?”

  “No. I’m a big boy.”

  “I know. You’re very strong. I love you very much. So does your father.”

  “He won’t make you go away?”

  “Nothing in the whole Void could take me from you.”

  “Mom!”

  Duster just knew she’d tried to hug him. Scott went hard into that pulling away, independent phase that all kids did at his age. He’d watched MacKay’s sons do it. They often ran to him at critical moments, though. It would be a bit more difficult with Scott, who was used to having Diane all to himself. As much as Scott wanted to pull away, he still would selfishly want Diane all to himself. In the midst of that, he’d met his father for the first time. Things were not going to go smoothly, but Duster was okay with that too.

  Diane left Scott’s room, leaving his door ajar. She didn’t seem surprised to find him standing in the hallway listening. Silently, they made their way down the hall back to their bedroom. Once there, Duster took her into a strong hug.

  “You are an amazing woman.”

  “Am I?” Her voice was muffled against his chest and the flannel of his robe.

  “Yes.” After running his fingers through her still damp hair, Duster stroked down her shoulders to her back. “You are so strong and sweet.”

  “I’m thinking it’s pointless to even ask, since you seem bound and determined to spoil Scott rotten, but can we get a puppy?”

  “Actually, Richards’s dog, Muffin, just had puppies. Not old enough to take home yet, but we can go take a look. I think they’re mutt dogs. Some kind of mix of shepherd and Lab, I think. We can go see.”

  “Let me guess, your house—”

  “Our house,” he reminded gently.

  “Our house,” Diane corrected, “is already set up for a dog too?”

  “Puppies and kids have a lot in common. If the house is safe for kids, I doubt there’s much damage a puppy could do.”

  “Have you ever had a dog?”

  “No.”

  “You are in for a big surprise.” She laughed into his chest.

  “Am I?”

  “Absolutely. They chew on everything. You have to walk them and train them and bathe them and—”

  “Sounds like another family project.”

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” She pulled away just enough to look him in the eye. “Even Scott’s sudden hostility toward you.”

  “I’m not loving that, but I understand where it’s coming from.” Duster slipped off his robe and hers and pulled her back into bed. “He’s had you to himself his whole life. And now, he has to share you with me. Right on the cusp of where he’s pulling away. It’s going to be a bit touchy.”

  “And you know this because?”

  “MacKay’s twin boys have been going through it the last year. They alternately want their mom all to themselves, hate their father, yet identify more and more with him. As Kraft would say, ‘It’s a complicated dance.’ And it’s normal. He’s had you all to himself, and suddenly, his dad shows up and takes you away.”

  “He dreamed that you literally took me away.”

  “Given the last few days, I’m not surprised. He’s coping. We all are.”

  “Duster, I—”

  “Tell me why you were crying before Scott came in.”

  Diane offered exhaustion as an excuse, and Duster let it slide with an understanding nod. Whatever it was, they could talk about it tomorrow. He pulled her close and stroked his hand through her hair. Lulled by his gentle touch, Diane’s breathing slowed but she didn’t fall asleep. Like him, she hung on the edge of wakefulness.

  Duster heard a chorus of crickets outside, clicking in a slow rhythm to the cool night air. Normally that sound put him into instant slumber, but not tonight. Not with so many changes. He thought about further puppy-proofing his home, and then wondered if Diane and Scott would be able to handle the hot, dry summer of Windmere. Spring was just now fading, and soon summer would come full blast.

  Diane pressed close, and her lush body made surrender to the sandman elusive. Michael’s words, that she would betray him again, echoed in his mind. As much as he wanted to push past their prior history, that voice of niggling doubt refused to fully retreat. He kept wondering how she could possibly betray him again, then berated himself for such thoughts. Wanting to trust her wasn’t going to force his heart to change overnight. He sighed. It would take time, that was all. Time for them to relearn one another, to learn to live as a family.

  “My wife.” Groaning low, Duster breathed deep of her, the cool night air, the very feel of his house full of someone other than his lonesome self. “Thank you for being here.”

  “Thank Mary. Or Michael. Or yourself. I had little to do with it.” Her voice sounded sad and almost…defeated.

  “You have everything to do with it.” Duster kissed the top of her head. “I’ve been waiting to have you back for so long I almost can’t believe you’re really here.” Straight from his heart, Duster told her the truth. “It’s almost like my time here has been in a holding pattern while I’ve been waiting for you and Scott. I’ve made it all ready for you.”

  “It’s wonderful, truly.”

  She kissed him, and he finally fell asleep with his own happy thoughts.

  When his wrist com pealed off three short beeps, pause, three short beeps, Duster shut it down, slipped from bed, grabbed his robe and went into the main room of his house before he answered. “Michael?”

  “Get to base,” Michael demanded. “Now.”

  Normally, Michael started off with a greeting, not a bellowed command, so something must have been very wrong. And Duster thought he knew exactly what had put Michael in such a mood. “Mary?”

  “Yes,” Michael confirmed. “She’s not—I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

  “You told her about the ALS?”

  “I did, and she’s not—”

  “Don’t bother Duster with this,” Mary cut in. “I’m fine.”

  Mary sounded perfectly normal. In fact, she sounded calm and rational while Michael was the one who sounded frenzied. Rolling his ey
es, peeved he’d been woken up at six in the morning for this, Duster asked, “Mary?”

  “Michael’s all pissed off because I’m not hysterical.”

  Switching off his wrist com when he fired up an audvid in the living room, Duster found both Mary and Michael in Michael’s office. Dawn was breaking just beyond the windows behind him, filling his living room with a rosy orange glow. It would have been peaceful if not for their drama. Duster had inserted himself into their courtship and willingly played referee, but that was then, and this was now.

  Dressed in her usual royal purple, Mary seemed bright-eyed and ready to face the day. Her hair was clean and loose, her clothes freshly pressed, her boots recently brushed. God only knew what tricks she had down her boots or up her sleeves or hiding in her skull.

  And then Duster assessed his boss. Yikes. Michael wore his signature black leather pants and nothing else, and they weren’t even buttoned up all the way. His face was dark with the shadow of an unshaved beard, and his hair looked like he’d been methodically brushing his fingers through it. Red-rimmed eyes completed his look of death warmed over.

  “You should be hysterical,” Michael said with resentment and crossed arms.

  “Yet I’m not. Duster? Stay home. I’m fine. Michael is the one who—”

  “I’m begging you. Get—”

  “Stop,” he hissed low and quiet into his com as he shut off the vid in the main room. “If you two are gonna make me referee, then both of you shut up and let me wake up.” Readjusting his robe, he made his way to the kitchen and turned the audvid on in there. “Mary? Since you seem a bit saner than Michael, tell me your side first.”

  “ALS. Two years. Fine. It didn’t take much for me to see the writing on the wall thanks to Doctor-let’s-leave-no-stone-unturned Murphy. That gives me time to have our child, give her the best possible start in life and then fade away. It sucks, but that’s the deal. I’ve got no denial about it at all. I also bypassed the anger and bargaining phases too. Murphy said there’s like five steps to the grieving process, and Michael is all bent because I pole vaulted to acceptance. It’s called ‘suck it up and deal because life isn’t fair’.”

  “And I ask you, is that normal?” Michael asked Duster.