The screen door opened, and Roxy stuck her head out. "Grandma Silvia, the oven timer went off, and Aunt Carmela is chanting something weird over a candle."
"Oh, dear. I'll be right there." Silvia moved toward the door, then looked at Nick. "Carmela is very worried about the anniversary of Robin's death. Perhaps you can convince Lisa to stay, Nick. It would be nice to have both of you this year."
Lisa's jaw dropped open once again as Silvia left to tend to dinner. "You've done the celebration before?"
"Someone had to," he said with a shrug.
"You don't believe in those customs."
"Your mother and your great-aunt do, and they both loved Robin. I figured it couldn't hurt. Maggie came last year, and Roxy. We thought Dylan and Mary Bea were a little young to hear your great-aunt's stories, but I've taken them by the cemetery a few times, and we've put flowers on Robin's grave. She is their cousin, after all." Nick leaned against the side of the house. "Have you ever gone to the cemetery, Lisa?"
She hesitated for a long moment. "Yes."
Something flashed in his eyes. "The violets. You left her the violets." He nodded as he smiled to himself. "I found them by the headstone, the day after Mary Bea was born. Did you talk to her, Lisa? Did you say her name out loud?"
His words came softly on the breeze, accompanied by the sound of the wind chimes hanging over the deck. Here in the shadowy darkness, it seemed easier to answer Nick's questions.
"I don't think she's interested in anything I have to say. I'm the one who let her down."
"I thought that was me."
"Maybe it was both of us."
"Or maybe she just died through no fault of ours. Somehow you just can't accept that. You have to blame someone."
"This is pointless. I'm going inside to help my mother with dinner." Lisa tried to walk past him into the house, but he grabbed her arm.
"Not so fast. We have some unfinished business."
She looked at him in surprise. "I can't imagine what that is."
"This." Nick leaned over and covered her mouth with his, kissing her this time with a passion she found just as compelling as the tenderness he had exhibited earlier. In a way, it was easier to handle, because this kiss was more like a fight, and she knew how to fight with Nick. It was the love without the hate that she couldn't come to terms with.
Nick finally set her free, but the expression on his face still held her captive. "How can you kiss me like that—and marry someone else?"
How could she? Lisa felt an immediate wave of shame and guilt. "I never should have come here."
"That's not an answer."
Lisa threw her hands in the air. "I had everything figured out, Nick. I knew what I wanted. I had what I wanted. Now it's all messed up."
"My fault, I'm sure."
"Partly, yes." She hesitated. "I saw the way Suzanne looked at you. She wants you. And Raymond wants me. We're both moving on. That's the way it should be."
"What if I can't stop thinking about you? What if I call your name when I'm making love to Suzanne?"
Her stomach clenched as she remembered all the times Nick had cried her name, with passion, with joy, with lust, with tenderness. "Don't do this, Nick."
"Here's an idea. You and me—one night together, just to see if there's anything left."
"You can't be serious."
"Are you afraid?"
"Of course not." But she couldn't stop a shiver at the thought. Nor could she bring herself to look into his eyes.
Nick cupped her face with his hands, making her look at him. "One night, Lisa. Remember how you used to scream my name and tangle your hands in my hair when I kissed your breasts?"
She shook her head in denial.
"Remember that night when I started with your toes and worked my way up every gorgeous inch of your body?" Desire gleamed in his eyes. "You were so hot by the time we were through, I thought you'd set the bed on fire."
She shook her head again, not wanting to remember, even though she felt that same fire now, burning its way through her body.
"You were so willing to make love anywhere, on the kitchen table, the porch swing in front of our house at two o'clock in the morning, the living room couch."
"Now, that is not true," Lisa interrupted. "I only went along, because you persuaded me."
He laughed. "And you liked the persuasion. Admit it."
She knew she was in danger of losing herself in his eyes, in his voice, in his arms. It had always been that way with him. From their first date she'd been swept off her feet. She hadn't come back to earth until the day of the funeral.
She pushed him away from her. "I am not interested in one night of anything with you, Nick. I'm engaged to be married to a great guy, and I certainly don't intend to cheat on him with my ex-husband."
Nick shrugged. "Whether you sleep with me now or not makes little difference. I still will have had you first."
"My God, you're arrogant."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment. And don't forget I had you first, too. At least, I was the first important one," she said defiantly. "That's what you always said."
"And I told the truth," he said, meeting her gaze. "I haven't forgotten anything, Lisa. Unlike you, I remember every detail of our life, but then I don't live in denial." He paused. "Are you and Raymond going to have children?"
She hesitated, knowing she was about to give him more ammunition, but she refused to lie. "No."
"Why not?"
"I don't want more children."
"Because you're afraid."
"I'm a mature, sensible woman who does not need to risk losing her mind again over a baby. I've been there, and I've done that. If you're so hot on kids, why don't you marry Suzanne and have your own brood?''
"Maybe I will," he said flatly.
"I hope you do," knowing that this time she was telling a lie.
"Just tell me one thing, Lisa. If this Raymond is the perfect guy for you, why haven't you sent out your wedding invitations?"
"I haven't had a chance, but I will."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Absolutely."
* * *
Later that night, Lisa checked on the kids. Roxy was sitting in bed, reading a teen magazine, which she quickly tossed on the floor when Lisa entered the room.
"I was just getting ready to turn off the light," Roxy said.
Lisa smiled. With Roxy's face cleanly washed, she looked like a girl again instead of a hooker. Lisa sat down on the bed. "It's pretty tough growing up, isn't it?"
Roxy pushed her hair behind her ear, somewhat self-consciously. "I wish I was prettier, like you."
"Me?" Lisa laughed as she sat down on the bed. "Good heavens, Roxy. When I was your age, I thought I was the ugliest thing alive."
"No way."
"Yes way. I had no confidence. I thought my family was nuts."
Roxy grinned. "Mine is, too."
"Your mother doesn't hold séances on the weekend."
"That's so cool, though."
"It wasn't to me. I was afraid my friends would find out, that they would think I was strange. I never brought anyone home from school. I never told anyone about my family. Sometimes, I'd even lie and say my father was a traveling salesman or in the marines, just so I wouldn't have to admit that he was gone."
Roxy's expression darkened as she plucked at the bedspread with her fingers. "I miss my dad." She looked up at Lisa. "Why did he have to die? Why did it have to happen to me? Other kids have two parents. It's not fair."
"It sure isn't. My dad left when I was just a baby. I never even knew him."
"Why did he leave?"
Lisa thought about all the explanations she'd heard, including the most recent one provided by her mother. Deep down she knew there was really only one answer. "I guess he didn't love us enough to stay. But my father had a choice, Roxy. Your dad didn't. It was just his time. He's looking down on you from heaven right now. In fact, ever since I fou
nd you with that boy, I've heard your father's voice whispering in my ear to protect his beautiful daughter from all those eager boys."
Roxy gave her a doubtful look. "You're making that up."
She smiled. "Maybe. Roxy, can we have a truce—until your mother comes back? No more sneaking out on me, okay?"
"Okay."
"Good. And in return, I'II show you how to wear makeup so you don't look like you're wearing it."
"What's the point of that?”
"The point is making those boys think you're naturally beautiful."
"Oh."
Lisa kissed Roxy on the cheek in an impulsive, motherly gesture, then tucked the covers around her chin. "I'll tell you one other thing. You have lots and lots of time to do it all, Roxy. If you're in a rush to grow up, you might just miss some of the best things of being a kid."
"Like what?"
"Like everything, honey. You can be whatever you want to be. The sky is the limit. And believe it or not, boys usually prefer girls who have their own interests and goals. Because those girls have more to talk about than makeup and clothes. They're fun and interesting."
Roxy made a face. "I'll never be popular. My nose is too big, and my legs are too skinny, and I'll never have boobs."
Lisa laughed. "You will, don't worry. Besides that, you're funny and smart and a good person. That's really what counts."
Roxy snuggled under the covers with a contented smile. "Good night, Aunt Lisa."
"Good night." Lisa got up and walked to the door.
"Aunt Lisa?" Roxy said one more time.
"What, honey?"
"I'm glad you're here."
Lisa smiled to herself. "Me, too." She turned off the light, closed the door behind her, then went into Dylan's room.
Dylan was already fast asleep, sprawled on top of the covers of a messy bed that was littered with sweatshirts and socks. She gently pushed the laundry to one side, then moved him slightly so she could pull the blanket over his bare legs.
"Mom?" Dylan muttered sleepily, not even opening his eyes.
"It's okay. Go back to sleep," Lisa said, not bothering to tell him who she was.
"Love you, Mom," Dylan said as he turned on his side and fell back to sleep.
"I love you, too," she murmured, feeling a rush of emotion. How lucky Maggie was to have these beautiful children.
"Lisa?"
She turned and saw Nick standing in the doorway. Things had been tense between them all evening, and ever since Silvia and Carmela had gone home, they'd tried to stay out of each other's way.
She walked into the hall and closed Dylan's door before speaking to him. "I'm tired, Nick. I don't want to argue with you. I don't want to sleep with you. In fact I don't even want to talk to you."
"Then talk to Mary Bea," he said roughly. "She has a stomachache."
She turned, startled by his words. "She was fine at dinner."
"She's not now."
Lisa walked across the hall and into Mary Bea's bedroom.
The little girl was curled into a fetal position. Lisa sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed Mary Bea's shoulder. "What's wrong, honey?”
"My stomach hurts."
"Do you feel like you're going to throw up?”
"I don't know. Kind of."
Lisa put a hand on Mary Bea's forehead, then looked at Nick. "She feels a little warm. It was probably just something she ate," she said. She wasn't sure she could deal with a sick child, not after what had happened to Robin.
"A good night's sleep, and she'll be fine," Nick said.
But as their eyes met, she knew he was just as worried as she was. "I'm going to call Maggie," she said.
She headed into the hall and picked up the phone, but Maggie's phone went to voice mail. Her battery must have died. Dammit.
"She's not answering," she told Nick.
"Looks like we're in charge," he said. "It's going to be okay, Lisa."
"I hope so, Nick."
Chapter Fifteen
Maggie crept out of bed just after seven o'clock in the morning. She felt uneasy, and she had tossed and turned most of the night. Since seeing Serena with a man who looked very much like her husband, she hadn't been able to think of anything but the two of them.
They'd tried to follow the cab, but they had lost it in traffic. Eventually, they'd gone to dinner at a lovely Chinese restaurant where Jeremy had tried his best to distract her. But she knew she'd been distant, and when they'd gone back to the hotel, they'd gotten separate rooms.
Now she walked to the window and pulled the curtain back. She could see downtown San Francisco from her vantage point—the Transamerica Pyramid, the Bank of America building, the Bay Bridge in the distance. She'd been to the city only once, just after she and Keith had first married. He'd loved the cable cars, the steep hills, and the old Victorian houses. Had he been planning his mad escape from their life even then?
She sat down in a chair by the window, thinking about the money Keith had taken out of their savings account—money she could have used for the children, for the house, for all their bills. Of course, he had taken out more life insurance—guilt money, she decided, to appease his conscience for faking his death and hurting his children and his wife.
She'd thought she'd known everything about her husband, but she'd known nothing.
But why had he faked his death? Why not just leave?
A knock came at her door, and she got up to answer it.
Jeremy stood before her, wearing beige slacks and a navy blue polo shirt. He looked clean and fresh, his hair still damp from a shower, his cheeks smoothly shaven. He smelled like heaven, and when he opened his arms to her, she could do nothing more than walk into his embrace.
"You worried all night," he said, brushing her hair with his lips. "I knew you would."
"I couldn't help it." She played with the button on his shirt. "I had a lot to think about." She stepped back so he could enter the room, then shut the door behind him.
"I think you're wrong," Jeremy said abruptly.
"What do you mean?" she asked in surprise.
"Your husband can't be alive. It doesn't make sense. I analyzed everything you told me. There was absolutely no reason for him to take such drastic steps to carry on an affair or to disappear. Unless there's something you've forgotten. You said he worked in a lab. But you never told me what caused the explosion or if there was foul play involved."
Jeremy sat down in a chair by the window, resting his arms on his knees as he waited for her to give him an explanation.
Maggie stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to follow everything he'd said. Foul play was the only thing that stuck in her head. But that didn't make sense either. "They said it was a chemical fire," she said slowly. "My husband often worked with toxic and flammable substances. They told me it looked like an experiment gone awry. No one ever suggested that someone had set the fire deliberately. Although, to tell you the truth, I didn't pay much attention."
"That's understandable. You were in shock."
Among other things, Maggie thought, remembering how upset the children had been. That's when Roxy had become boy-crazy, Mary Bea had started crying all the time and Dylan had taken to spending his day in front of video games.
"Didn't anyone at the company give you any more information than that?" Jeremy asked.
"I don't know. Maybe they did. I can't remember. Keith's boss came up to me at the funeral and muttered something about it being a freak accident, but I didn't know him well enough to really question him. You see, when Keith started working at that company, he changed. He became less talkative, more stressed. At his old company, I knew everyone, but at this place, I didn't even know the names of his coworkers. Everything was classified."
"Why?" Jeremy asked with interest.
"Some of their work involved national security, chemical weapons, stuff like that." She sighed and sat down on the bed. "At least that's what he said."
"Wow. Chemical weapons.
The plot thickens."
Maggie shook her head at the enthusiasm in Jeremy's voice. "I wish you could have known him the way I did. You would have a lot more trouble believing the man was anything but a nine-to-five guy who never did anything remotely daring."
"Tell me more about the company. You said you didn't know anyone?"
"No, there were never any parties, not even at Christmas, and Keith travelled a lot. I'm not really sure what he did on the road. He was so vague about it. When I tried to ask, he'd just change the subject." And she hadn't tried that hard, because she'd had three kids to worry about.
Jeremy stood up and began to pace around the room. "Okay, let's go over what we have. Keith takes a job at a new company that has something to do with national defense about a year and a half before the explosion."
"Yes."
"He doesn't introduce you to anyone. You're not welcome to visit or even hear about his experiments. He travels to other cities. You never call him. He always calls you. One night he goes into the lab after everyone has left. There is a mysterious explosion. Items of clothing and his briefcase are found at the site, but no body."
"And some teeth," Maggie added.
"Right, the teeth. Cavities matching Keith's dental records."
"Yes. Don't forget about the money. Eight thousand dollars withdrawn from our checking account the day before he died."
Jeremy paused and looked at her. "I still feel like we're missing something."
"Me, too."
"So we still need to find Serena."
Maggie stood up and stretched her tired, tense limbs, eager to change the subject. "I tried calling her room earlier this morning. She didn't answer."
He met her gaze. "I tried, too. And there's no room registered to your husband."
"So we wait, or I give up."
Jeremy walked over to her, sliding his arms around her waist. "You can't give up yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not ready to say good-bye," he said bluntly.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Really?"
"You're the most intriguing woman I've met in a long time."
She wasn't intriguing. She was a single mom with three kids and a dog, but she couldn't tell him that.
Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Page 19