“Nothing. Not yet.” She stepped past him, picked up the bottle and shoved it into a cupboard. She grabbed the AA token and replaced it in her pocket, but not before he’d seen that, too.
He dropped onto one of the chairs and pulled her into his lap. For a moment, she let herself savor his warmth, his strength, the now-familiar contours of his chest. Then she eased away from him.
“You need to go, Sam.”
“And leave you alone with the bottle?”
“Yes. This is my deal. Not yours. I have to work it out myself.”
“I can stay here and distract you.”
“I don’t want you here.” She didn’t want anyone to witness her struggle. Especially not Sam. She’d trusted him and he’d let her down.
He stared at the cabinet where she’d put the bottle, then shoved his hands into his pockets. “This is hard for me.”
“Is it?”
“Delaney, I…”
“Go,” she said, pushing him toward the door. Before she broke down and asked him to stay.
She watched until he disappeared from sight. Then she opened the cabinet door, removed the vodka and headed out to the barn.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DELANEY TOOK A DEEP breath as she waited for her sponsor, Caroline, to answer her phone. Finally, she picked up and said, “Delaney? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not.” Delaney swallowed. “I bought a bottle of vodka today.”“Did you drink it?” Caroline’s voice was steady. Nonaccusing.
“No.” The bottle beckoned her from a desk in the showroom.
“Why did you buy it?” Caroline asked.
“Because everything’s falling apart,” she answered softly. “I told my friends who I am, and they looked at me like I was a stranger. Reporters showed up in my town.” I’ve gotten involved with a man I can’t have.
An hour later, Caroline asked, “Are you ready to put Diesel in the past, where he belongs?”
“He is in the past,” Delaney answered.
“Is he?” Caroline’s voice was gentle. Sympathetic. “You made music with Diesel. Evaded reporters with him. You drank and did drugs with him. Are you that surprised that when the music and the reporters resurfaced, the drinking did, as well?”
“I didn’t think of it like that,” Delaney said slowly.
“There’s a new man in your life, and he’s connected to Diesel. Do you want to go forward, Delaney? Or back?”
“Forward,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Then do it. You’re a strong woman. You can handle it.” Her voice softened. “You’ve been clean for almost three years. Put Diesel where he belongs.”
Delaney closed the phone, turned it off and set it on the desk, next to the bottle. After a few minutes, she put one of the demo CDs on the stereo, then took the guitar from the bottom shelf of the cabinet. She lowered herself to the floor, then settled the bulky leather case on her lap. There were a lot of memories inside, both good and bad.
Tears dripped down her face as she listened to Diesel’s voice and stroked the pebbled leather. I have to let you go, Diesel. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. Sorry the music wasn’t enough.
Swiping her sleeve over her face, she opened the case. She’d give the guitar to Leo. It had belonged to his father, and Diesel would have wanted his son to have it.
Other than the demos, it was her last link to her old lover. The final thing that connected them.
She was sending the demos out into the world. It was time for the guitar to go, too.
She fumbled her phone from her pocket and pressed the button to call Sam. When it went directly to his voice mail, she said, “I need to see you. And the kids, too.”
She picked up the bottle of Grey Goose and stashed it in the cabinet, along with the memories. It would stay there to remind her that it, too, was a part of her past. Not her present.
Not her future.
DUSK WAS FADING TO NIGHT and one of the demos was playing on the stereo as she hand-sanded the trim for a table. Lost in the bittersweet memories, she didn’t hear anyone coming until the door to the barn began to open.
In her distressed state of mind she’d forgotten to lock it.Scrambling to her feet, she ran toward it, but the crack widened before she could get there.
“Don’t you dare come in,” she yelled.
“How come, Delaney?” Rennie stuck her head through the doorway. “It’s us. Me and Uncle Sam and Leo.”
Delaney slid to a stop on the sawdust-covered floor and saw Leo behind Rennie. Sam behind both of the kids. Worry faded to relief.
“Sorry, sweetie,” she said. “I thought it was someone else.”
Leo pointedly ignored her as he leaned against the wall, pulled out his cell phone and began to text.
“I drawed you a picture in school,” Rennie said happily. “Uncle Sam said we could bring it to you. But we had to be very quiet.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He said the trees were guarding your house, and we had to sneak past them. They might try to talk to me.”
“That’s right,” she said, ignoring Leo’s snort of derision as she crouched to put an arm around Rennie. “You don’t want to talk to trees. They’re very boring.” Rennie had a piece of orange construction paper clutched in her hand. “Is that my picture?”
She handed it to Delaney. It showed a stick figure with curly red hair standing in an oval. Another stick figure with yellow hair stood outside the oval. A small drawing that looked vaguely like an animal was off to the side.
“I bet this is you.” Delaney touched the smaller figure. “And this is me. And Fluffy. And we’re…we’re…” She glanced up at Sam. “Bath,” he mouthed.
“We’re taking a bath.”
“Yes,” Rennie squealed. She gave Sam a disdainful look. “Uncle Sam didn’t know what it was.”
“That’s because he doesn’t appreciate art,” Delaney said. The picture was crumpled at the top, where Rennie had been holding it, and she smoothed it out. “He’s a guy.”
“Leo said it was a stupid picture.” Rennie narrowed her eyes.
“There you go. Leo’s a guy, too. What do you expect?”
“Guys.” Rennie’s voice was filled with such scorn that Delaney had to swallow a smile. She caught Sam’s gaze. Held it. The gray of his eyes had warmed.
“Delaney?” Rennie put her hands on Delaney’s cheeks to get her attention.
“Right,” she said hastily. “May I keep this?”
“Yes. Uncle Sam puts my pictures on the ’frigerator.”
“Then that’s where I’ll put mine. This is my first refrigerator picture, and that makes it very special. Thank you, Rennie.”
“Let’s go put it there now,” she said.
“Okay. Let me turn off the music first.”
“I like that music,” Rennie said.
Delaney froze, then turned around slowly. “Do you, Rennie?” Without thinking, she picked the girl up. “That’s your daddy singing.”
Leo looked up from his phone. He shoved it into his pocket as he pushed away from the wall.
“Really?” Rennie rested against Delaney’s arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “That’s my daddy?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Delaney, too.” Sam had circled around the furniture to come up next to them. “She and your dad are singing together.”
“Can I hear more songs?”
“I’ll tell you what, Rennie.” Delaney set her on the floor and ejected the disc from the stereo. “I’ll make you a copy so you can take it home with you. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said happily.
“Would you like a copy, too, Leo?”
“Whatever.” But he stared at the disc as Delaney snapped it into the jewel case.
Sam moved closer. “You don’t have to do that,” he said in a low voice.
“Of course I do. Diesel would love knowing his daughter liked this music.” And maybe that was all the reason she needed to release these songs. “I’
ll burn two copies before you leave.”
She glanced at the cabinet again, which stood open. “Leo, I have something I’d like to give you.”
“Yeah?” He’d pulled out his phone again and was pressing buttons, as if he was texting. But it looked random to Delaney.
“Leo. Put that away.” Sam moved next to him and dropped his hand on his shoulder. “Be civil.”
The boy flushed, but he slipped the phone into his pocket. Delaney walked to the cabinet, hesitating before she pulled out the guitar. Diesel had entrusted it to her. It had brought her comfort in the days after his death.
It was right that Leo have it.
She pulled out the battered leather case, holding it at each end, afraid the worn handle might break. She laid it on a desk and opened the lid.
A well-used acoustic guitar rested inside on blue-green velvet. Three picks were lined up in the slots on the lid. The shine of the pick guard had been dulled from use, and the strings would probably break if they were tightened. Nicks and scratches marred the body.
“This was your dad’s first guitar,” she said to Leo. “He used it when we recorded those songs.”
Leo reached out to touch it, then snatched his hand back. “How come you have it?”
Diesel had given it to her for safekeeping, because he’d been afraid Heather would smash it. After his death, Delaney hadn’t returned it to Heather. The instrument had meant too much to Diesel, and she refused to let a vengeful woman destroy it.
“Your dad made beautiful music with this guitar, and I loved it. Now it’s your turn to have it.” She’d loved Diesel, too, but it was time for her to move on, as well.
Leo plucked one string, then another. “Do you know how to play it?”
“A little.” She kept her voice carefully neutral. “I can show you the basics, if you like.”
He raised one shoulder but didn’t answer as he stroked the golden wood.
Rennie tugged at Delaney’s hand. “What about my picture?”
“Yes. Let’s go put your artwork up on the refrigerator.”
Sam stayed next to her as they made their way to the back of the house, where the reporters wouldn’t see them. After discussing the best place for the picture, Delaney attached it to the fridge door with a magnet. They admired it for a moment, then Sam said, “Leo, take the guitar into the other room and have a look at it, okay? I need to talk to Delaney.”
After the kids had gone into the living room, he tugged her into the corner farthest away. “What’s going on? I thought you didn’t want to see the kids.”
“I didn’t want Leo to get upset again. I didn’t want to take a chance on the reporters seeing him. But I…I talked to my sponsor this afternoon and figured some things out. I needed to give Leo the guitar.”
“How come?”
“Diesel would want him to have it.” She laced her fingers behind her back. “It’s part of the past. And I have to put the past behind me.”
“I like the sound of that. I like that a lot.”
“You’re part of that past, Sam. So are Leo and Rennie. I was wrong to try and have a relationship with them.” With you. “I need to move on.”
“Hey, what’s going on outside?” Leo called from the living room.
Sam closed his eyes in frustration. Why did his nephew have to interrupt now? Delaney was telling him something important, and he had to make sure he understood.
She pushed past him, and he followed her out of the kitchen. The living room was awash with light, and he peered out the window.
“What the hell?”
Several bright lights shone through the trees in front of her house. As Delaney and the kids joined him at the window, flashes went off. Photographers.
“Damn it.” He pulled the kids back and Delaney closed the shades. But the damage had been done.
“Why are they taking our pictures?” Leo asked. He lifted the edge of the blind, and another flash went off.
“Don’t, Leo,” Delaney said quietly.
Sam was watching Leo, and noted that the boy was surprised, but not shocked. He’d seen photographers before, Sam realized. Heather’s trips in and out of rehab were staples of the tabloids.
Rennie appeared confused.
Delaney looked resigned.
“Damn it. I’ll get rid of them.” Sam wrenched the front door open, and the flashes went off again. More of them this time. They’d been ready for him.
Delaney pushed the door closed, then grabbed the back of his shirt when he reached for it again. “That will make it worse,” she said.
“Worse? How could it be worse?” He shook off her hands. “They took pictures of all of us. Are Leo and Rennie going to be on the cover of some trashy tabloid?”
“I doubt it. The flashes probably reflected off the windows. They want you to go after them. They want you in the open.”
“How can you sound so reasonable? Aren’t you angry?” He shoved his hand through his hair, appalled at the invasion of their privacy. “What happened to the woman who was so shaken by the press she was ready to crawl into a vodka bottle this afternoon?”
“I talked to my sponsor and got my head on straight. The vodka was about more than the intrusive press. I was…upset before they showed up this afternoon, and they surprised me. Once I agreed to release the demos, I should have been prepared for this. This was always a possibility.”
“Damn Heather.”
Delaney pushed him into the kitchen. “You’re the one who told her.” Her voice was low and stung like a whip. “Once the word was out that I’d been found, that there was music Diesel and I hadn’t released, of course the press was going to show up. I’m sorry they caught you and Leo and Rennie, but you brought this on yourself. I shouldn’t have asked you to come over here, but I was thinking of what I needed.”
Fear for Leo and Rennie roiled within Sam, mixed with anger at the photographers. Worse that it was his own fault. “I had no idea it would be like this.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Sam. Heather is on the cover of a tabloid at least once a month, and her spending, her affairs and her trips to rehab are boring compared to this. You’re part of Diesel’s family. How could you not know what it was like?”
She was right, and it fueled his anger at himself. He couldn’t protect any of them. They would always be targets. “He died three years ago. When does it stop?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t. Not for a while. Those unintended consequences again.” She pulled the kitchen blinds, then went from room to room to close all the shades. “They’ll leave in a while. They don’t like to stand around in the cold. It’s not good for their cameras.”
This had been her life when she was part of the Redheads. Her life and his brother’s. How had she endured it?
And this time Sam was the one to blame.
“We need to go home,” he said abruptly.
“Go the same way you came. Out the back door and right into the woods. Unless the house is surrounded, they won’t see you.”
He needed to protect her, too. “Delaney, you should come with us. Unless you like sleeping in a house surrounded by photographers?”
“No,” she said quietly. “But I’ll be fine here.”
The warm, loving woman was gone. She was self-contained and cool again, the way she’d been when he met her. His fault. He took her hand and tried to ignore his fear. “Please, Delaney. I need to know you’re safe.”
She looked down at their joined hands for a long moment. She nodded slowly. “All right, Sam. I’ll stay at your place tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
DELANEY WAS GIVING an exhausted Rennie a bath when Sam’s phone rang. Miami area code. He hesitated, then opened it. He’d have to speak with her sooner or later. And the kids might want to talk to her.
“Hello, Heather.”“Hey, Sam. How are things up in north Dullsville?” She sounded cheerful. Happy. He hoped it was only because she was feeling better.
“Did you c
all the reporters?” he demanded. “Are you the one who told that gossip site Chantal was up here?”
“What’s the matter? Doesn’t she like the publicity? Can’t Diesel’s little wh—”
“Heather. Stop right there.” He wanted to reach through the phone and strangle her. “You put the kids at risk. They’re going to be in the tabloids, too.”
“Why would they?” Her voice hardened. “Unless they’re spending time with her.”
“I’m spending time with her.” A vision of Delaney in her bathrobe and nothing else filled his head. “To work on the demos,” he added hastily. “The kids are with me. Connect the dots.”
“Leo knows what to do about the press,” she said. As if it was perfectly normal for a ten-year-old to fend off photographers.
“He shouldn’t have to know that.” Sam gripped the phone tighter and his finger hovered over the off button.
Leo was watching him from the living room, his eyes carefully blank.
Damn it. She was still his mother. “Do you want to talk to the kids?”
She hesitated, then said, “Sure. Put Leo on.”
“Leo,” Sam called. “Your mom is on the phone.”
He looked from the phone to Sam, but made no attempt to reach for it.
“She’d like to talk to you,” Sam said softly. He put his hand over the microphone and handed it to Leo. “Give her a chance.”
“Hi, Mom,” Leo said. His voice sounded rusty. He listened for a while, glancing at Sam. “Good. We’re going to school.”
Sam heard Heather’s voice rise, and Leo held the phone away from his ear. Finally he said defiantly, “I like it here. The kid across the road is cool.”
He stared at Sam, the message clear. Save me. Sam reached for the phone.
“Heather, what did you say to Leo?”
“I told him he belongs in school down here. Why the hell did you put them in school?”
“It wasn’t doing them any good to sit around the house all day.” He lowered his voice. “They needed normal. Still do. I’m not going to let you talk to Rennie unless you promise you won’t upset her.”
“Who are you to tell me what to do with my kids?” she said.
He struggled to control his temper. “Yes, they’re your kids. Do you want her to cry herself to sleep?” He paused, but Heather didn’t answer. “And why are you pissed off about them being in school? You might not be out of the hospital for another couple of weeks. They’ll get behind.”
Life Rewritten Page 16