by Ranae Rose
He kept driving. He didn’t need to sit around waiting for a glimpse of her face anymore. He knew it was her – he’d followed her home from the place where the newspaper had said she worked. It’d been dark then, so he’d only been half-sure it was her.
Yesterday had been enough, though. He’d seen her crystal clear stepping out with that son of a bitch, had flattened her tires after she’d returned home alone that night. She looked different, but she wasn’t. She was still his, even if she’d gone on a three year vacation.
She’d realize that soon enough.
CHAPTER 10
“Have you seen The Heat?” Sasha flopped down onto the couch in her and Henry’s living room, a universal remote in hand.
Kerry shook her head in reply, and also in an attempt to clear away the stress that lingered from her talk with Jeremy. After work, Sasha had taken Kerry by her house to pick up an overnight bag and file a police report about her slashed tires. Jeremy had been the responding officer, and had taken the incident seriously. While Kerry was grateful for that, the memory of his concerned expression fueled the sense of uneasiness that’d followed her from her house.
“Good,” Sasha said, “me neither. I’ve been meaning to watch it for an eternity now.”
It was hard to care much what they watched. Kerry was so glad for this escape, this single night away from her lonely house, that she would’ve settled for anything.
As it turned out, The Heat was pretty funny. And Kerry couldn’t help but feel a secret kinship with the main character, who was kind of uptight and decidedly awkward.
The other star was more like Sasha: bold, fearless and likely to say anything. If she’d had blonde hair and a push-up bra, she could’ve passed for a relative of Sasha’s.
A half hour into the movie, Sasha brought a tray of lemon tarts out of the fridge. “Henry said he’d grab that wine for us,” she said. “He’s at Grey’s right now, lifting weights. He’ll probably be home in about an hour.”
“Great.” The lemon tarts were surprisingly good. Kerry had only meant to have one, just to be polite, but she ended up having two, and by the time Henry arrived, she was contemplating a third.
Despite Sasha’s assurances that Henry didn’t mind Kerry spending the night, she still felt awkward when he walked in. Maybe it was just her imagination, but he and Sasha seemed to exchange some pretty heated glances.
After a quick – but passionate – kiss, the only thing Sasha grabbed was the bottle of pale dessert wine Henry had brought them.
After saying hello to Henry, Kerry accepted a glass from Sasha, who announced to the room at large that there was leftover lasagna in the fridge for dinner.
Relieved at how un-awkward Henry’s arrival had been, Kerry quickly became absorbed in the movie. It was good while it lasted – everything was – until it came time to actually go to bed.
* * * * *
Oh, God. Why had Kerry let Sasha open the wine?
True, they hadn’t had much – they’d split a bottle – but a little bit was all it took to utterly destroy what few inhibitions Sasha had in the first place. Apparently.
The sound of her giggling drifted loud and painfully clear from the bedroom down the hall, the closed door just a few yards from the couch where Kerry had settled in for the night. She rolled over, pulling a blanket over her ears, trying to block out the noise.
She was about as successful as an ostrich trying to bury its head in the sand.
Henry’s voice came next, low and rumbling, mercifully indistinct.
And then – oh God – a smacking sound followed, quickly chased by more of Sasha’s laughter.
Kerry had had about five minutes of peace after Sasha had made the couch up as a bed, plying her with spare blankets and a thick pillow. It’d gone downhill quickly after that, with things getting weird as soon as Sasha had finished up her nightly beauty routine and retired to the bedroom.
For once, Kerry longed to be alone in the dark. Instead, she felt bizarrely exposed and embarrassed – on Sasha and Henry’s behalf – as noises continued to come from beyond the bedroom door.
She wasn’t alone in her forced eavesdropping – Wolf, Henry’s German Shepherd, had been shut out of the room. He lay on a dog bed in the hall and gave Kerry knowing looks every now and then. For some reason, that made the whole situation even more embarrassing.
Wolf probably had to deal with this every night. Would it have killed Sasha to be a little more discreet just this once?
Knowing Sasha, she probably thought it was hilarious that Kerry could hear, if she even had her head firmly enough on her shoulders to realize it. She’d had most of her wine before she’d eaten any lasagna, and it seemed to have gone straight to her head.
Kerry covered her ears with her pillow when the mattress started squeaking. Seconds before, she’d heard something suspiciously metallic, almost like … handcuffs. Handcuffs clinking together and maybe even closing around wrists.
It was a thought that made her cheeks burn, partially because she felt like a voyeur, and partially because she couldn’t help but picture the shine of handcuffs on Grey’s duty belt, silver and gleaming.
She flipped over on the couch, kicking one of her blankets off. There’d been lots of times she’d secretly longed to be more like Sasha, but as she imagined the paradoxical freedom of being bold enough to enjoy Grey and his handcuffs, she’d never regretted more that she wasn’t anything like her best friend.
* * * * *
Brad’s foot landed on a whiskey bottle when he stepped out of bed. It rolled, empty, sending him pitching forward.
Stars burst before his eyes, brilliant against the motel room’s dimness, as his head hit the little dining table that’d been crammed into the undersized room.
Fuck. He tried to curse, but his mouth was too dry. Instead, he made his way to the closet-sized bathroom, rinsed his face with cold water, then cupped his hands and gulped some down.
There was a cut on his chin from when he’d hit the table. Not too big, but blood trickled down and he had to mop it away with a hand towel. That occupied him for a few seconds, and then he had nothing to do but remember the night before – everything that’d happened before he’d come back and drowned his rage in a whiskey haze.
Or rather, everything that hadn’t happened. Kerry hadn’t come home last night.
He’d rolled by her house just after dusk, then again a couple hours later. Then one more time, around midnight. The house had been dark and empty every time – he knew because he’d gone and knocked on her door around midnight.
No answer, no nothing. Just silence, a big fat fuck you Brad that still had his jaw tight and aching, even after all the whiskey.
He knew exactly who she must’ve been with, exactly what she’d been doing.
Had she guessed that he was back, that he’d left that paper at her door and slashed her tires?
Probably not. She probably thought she’d left him and all her promises behind in Kentucky, that she’d gotten off scot-free. She’d never been too bright of a thinker.
And so, he’d dropped the petty bullshit, right then and there. No more subtle little hints, no more impulsive shit he’d done more because he’d been mad than for any other reason. He’d played the scout long enough, skulking and spying on his own damn wife like he didn’t have every right to be up in her face, giving her hell for what she’d done.
It was time to step out of the past and into her life, show her that nothing was behind her and nothing was forgiven.
* * * * *
“The guest rooms all look immaculate,” Faye said, sweeping a hand through her short silver hair and pushing her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose, “as usual. I’ve got Jen vacuuming the halls and dusting the study before our weekend guests arrive – thought I’d free up a little time for you to work on things for the fall festival.”
“Me?” Kerry stopped just outside the laundry room, balancing a stack of fresh linens on her hip.
; Faye nodded, her dangly earrings swinging from delicate earlobes. Kerry had always thought she looked like some sort of real-life fairy or sprite.
“Alicia’s going to be away on her honeymoon for the next week, and I could really use some help organizing things for the festival. It’s October now…” She glanced out a window at the barely-altered landscape, then back at Kerry. “I’d love your help. You’re organized and efficient – I know you’ll do a great job. There’ll be overtime pay in it for you if you want to work an hour or so past your regular shift.”
Well, that was something Kerry couldn’t turn down. She was paid fairly for her duties as head of the plantation’s housekeeping team, but the opportunity to earn some extra was more than welcome. “Sounds great. What do you want me to do?”
“Help me with decorations, mostly. I got some brilliant ideas from the internet, but it’s taking me longer than I anticipated to put everything together. I swear, I’ve been drowning in tulle and sequins all week.”
“Sounds easy enough. I can’t stay late this afternoon though – I have to be at Alicia’s wedding rehearsal by 5:30.”
“Right. No problem. We’ll really get down to business next week – for today, if you could spare just an hour or two out of your regular shift, that’d be great.”
Twenty minutes later, Kerry was up to her elbows in black tulle – the same stuff she’d seen Alicia carrying around. There was more of it than she ever could have imagined, as if someone had bought out an entire tulle factory. Nearby, in what looked like a giant mixing bowl taken from the restaurant’s kitchen, were thousands of sequins.
As she ran the tulle through her hands, Kerry began to get a picture of what she’d gotten herself into. “And uh, what exactly am I doing with this stuff?”
“Here, I’ll show you.” Faye perched on the edge of a stool – they were in a storage room – and motioned for Kerry to sit in a chair that’d been retired to storage years ago.
“This is a piece that’s finished.” She reached into an open moving box and pulled out a length of sequin-spangled tulle. Silver sequins had been attached to the mesh-like fabric in random disarray, and they gleamed against the blackness like so many stars.
“It looks like the sky on a clear night. Is that what you’re going for?”
“Yes, and thank God I’ve pulled it off – you’re the first person I’ve showed the finished product to. Anyway, I’m going to use this tulle to create bunting. It’ll be draped across all the festival tables and booths. That’s why we need so much of it.”
“I see.” Now, the vast quantities of tulle made sense.
“You probably think I’m crazy,” Faye continued, “and to be honest, I’m thinking the same thing. But it’s too late to back out now.” She tsked. “They made it look so easy on the internet. Fifteen minute craft idea my ass!”
Kerry had never heard Faye swear before. Apparently, arts and crafts provoked her temper more than unruly guests, wandering gators, creeping felons or any of the other dozens of strange things she’d dealt with during her years as general manager at Wisteria.
Given that, Kerry got straight to work, picking up a bottle of glue and scooping out a handful of sequins.
“I started out sewing the sequins on,” Faye said as she worked beside her, “but after about three yards I slipped off my high horse and ran to the store for some glue. I don’t think anyone will be able to tell, as long as we’re careful with the application.”
Kerry worked with a steady hand. “They won’t – you were smart to make the switch.”
Faye shot her a grateful look. “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to help me. I was seriously considering calling my great nieces and trying to bribe them to come and lend a hand.”
“How old are they?”
“Six and eight. They also live in Charlotte.”
Kerry secured a glittering sequin with a dot of glue. “You probably could’ve put an ad up online and found someone to hire for a day or two.”
“After the trouble we’ve already had with serial killers here? I think that’s the one thing I’m not desperate enough to try.”
* * * * *
The wedding rehearsal dinner was held at Liam and Alicia’s house. The modest bungalow was packed to the rafters with people – the groomsmen and bridesmaids, plus Liam and Alicia’s families and several friends of Alicia’s who’d traveled from DC to be there.
Grey couldn’t breathe without rubbing elbows with someone else. Alicia and Liam’s little terrier mix, Holden, was zipping around the house, desperately excited by the presence of so many guests. All in all, the crowd offered the perfect excuse for Grey to escort Kerry outside.
They walked with her arm caught up in his, imitating the way they’d moved across the living room floor, practicing for the next day. Probably the only reason Kerry seemed to think it was so funny was because she’d had a glass of the wine that was being served with the seafood buffet set up in the kitchen, but Grey wasn’t complaining.
“It’s nice out here,” he said as they stood leaning on the porch railing, “look at the moon.”
It was immensely huge and immensely white, brilliant above pines that stood like shadowy sentinels against the night sky, which was more velvet-grey than black.
“It’s beautiful,” Kerry said. “I used to look at the moon and think about all the other people who were doing the same thing. Wonder what their lives were like, what it was like where they lived.”
“They can’t have it better than we do here,” Grey said, wondering if she’d had a second glass during one of the few nanoseconds during which his gaze hadn’t been glued to her, “especially not on a night like tonight.”
He’d had nothing to drink himself, since he’d be driving home.
In the moonlight, he could see a little dent appear in her lower lip, like she was biting it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t something he’d said or done.
She was silent for a moment before turning to meet his eyes. “Someone slashed my tires the other night, after I took you home. All four of them.”
His gut knotted up, and not, he suspected, because he’d had three helpings of Sasha’s homemade gumbo. “That’s why Sasha drove you here?”
She nodded.
“I thought you just wanted to get lit up.” It didn’t sound as funny as it had in his head.
She narrowed her eyes. “Not at all. We all have to be up early in the morning. I’d point out that I’ve only had one glass of wine, but I think you know that.”
He ignored her obvious reference to the way he’d been watching her. He would’ve liked to joke around, but the fact that someone had vandalized her car was eating away at his ability to tease. Suddenly, the night seemed darker, the moon farther away. Who could possibly have anything against her?
“I guess you don’t know who did it, then?”
“No. I spoke to the police – Jeremy, actually – but I couldn’t tell them who might’ve done it. Maybe it was just a random thing, like a kid might do, or…”
She looked back toward the moon, and the idea of her wondering what it might be like to be someone else, somewhere else, sent a ripple of uneasiness through him.
He reached out and touched her hand before he could think twice about it.
She didn’t pull away.
“I bet you’re pretty creeped out.” He knew she was – he could see it on her face and feel it manifested in the tension that had her gripping the porch railing like a lifeline.
“Yeah.”
“Tell you what – I’ll drive you home. Make sure you get in all right.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’d be glad to. And I won’t try to charm my way inside – I promise.”
The tiniest of smiles flickered across her face. “Okay. I appreciate it. I stayed with Sasha last night, and to tell the truth, it was pretty awkward.”
“Oh yeah?” He played coy, although he’
d seen Sasha and Henry together often enough to make an educated guess at what Kerry meant. The sight of the two of them at the beach together was practically obscene. Sasha was always tempting Henry into rubbing sunblock on her in a way that Grey would’ve killed to do for Kerry.
“I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Oh, I can imagine all right.” He realized how weird it sounded after he said it, but then, of course, there was no taking it back.
Kerry just laughed. Luckily.
“I think even their dog was embarrassed.”
“Poor Wolf. Until Sasha moved in, he had no idea how weird people could be.”
Kerry snorted, and the door behind them burst open, spilling light and sound out onto the porch.
The people who walked through it were none other than Sasha and Henry.
“Oh, are we intruding on something?” Sasha’s voice rang loudly from behind them. She stood beside Henry, her fingers curled around the stem of a wine glass.
“We were just getting some fresh air,” Kerry said.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind us joining you. It’s a little too loud in there, now that most of the wine’s been had.”
While Grey silently mulled over the irony of Sasha saying that, he couldn’t help catching Kerry’s eye and grinning.
She returned his smile, albeit less conspicuously.
“Henry and I were thinking of leaving in a few, after dessert,” Sasha said, leaning on the railing now too. “Is that all right with you, Kerry? We’ve got an early morning ahead of us.”
“Actually, Grey volunteered to drive me home,” Kerry replied. “So you don’t have to worry about it. Thanks for the ride here though, and for last night.”
“Oh, did he?”
Grey felt Sasha’s gaze on his face, though he refused to meet her eyes. The last thing he needed was for her to say something outrageous and change Kerry’s mind. He meant what he’d said about not pulling anything like trying to charm his way inside her house – above all, he just wanted to ease the fear he’d seen minutes ago in her eyes.