by Marie Harte
“Was she?” Del seconded.
Mike blinked at her, then gave her a ghost of a smile before turning to his son. “Well, she didn’t have the colorful artwork Del has. But yeah. Heck, boy. You know what she looks like. You have a picture of her right by your bed.”
“I heard she looks like Abby. That true?” Del asked.
Mike looked at her, but she couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. “Yeah. A lot like Abby.”
“Dad was going to marry Abby, probably. But Ubie got her first.” Colin shrugged. “I like her as an aunt though.”
“Colin.” Mike’s cheeks looked pink, and Del wondered if Colin’s words had any truth to them. “I did not want to marry Abby. I never did and still don’t.” He glared at her.
“What? I didn’t ask.”
He turned his scowl back on Colin. “Abby looks like your mom, but she’s not your mom. We talked about this.”
“I know.” Colin sat glumly.
“Jesus, Colin. This is totally not the time to be talking about your mother.”
Del heard his hurt. Damn, talk about baggage. It had been six years since he’d buried his wife and he could barely talk about her. “What was her name?”
Mike continued to look at Colin. “Lea.”
“Did she like burgers?”
“Did she, Dad?” Colin asked softly.
Mike cleared his throat. “No. She didn’t like meat.”
“At all?” Colin goggled.
“She liked fish and eggs. Kind of a loose vegetarian.”
“Wow. Did she eat pizza?”
Del grinned. “It’s not the end of the world if she didn’t like pizza. Some really cool people hate pizza.”
“Who?” Colin asked, suspicious.
She turned to Mike, who stared at her with a frown. “Well?” she asked, unable to come up with anyone cool who hated the best food on the planet. “Did she or not?”
“She liked pizza,” he said slowly. “And vanilla ice cream.”
“I like mint chocolate chip,” Colin announced. “Rocky road, too,” he hurried to add.
She had a feeling rocky road wasn’t his favorite. “I like chocolate.”
“Dad does too.”
Del warmed. Stupid to feel good that she and he liked the same ice cream, something his dead wife hadn’t. And burgers, don’t forget the meat. Oh God, I am truly going to hell competing with a dead woman.
She took a long drink of lemonade and encouraged Colin to ask another question. The most important he could ask. “Mike, I think Colin needs to know what really matters.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Who was Lea’s favorite person in the world? Be honest. Colin can take it.”
Mike stared at her for a moment, then reached across the table to grab her hand and gently squeeze. He let go and smiled, his grin banishing the sorrow swimming in his gaze. “Colin, I don’t know if I should tell you this.”
“Tell me, Dad. Please.” Colin looked on the edge of his seat.
“Well, your mom was a pretty popular lady. Everyone liked her, and she had a ton of friends. But…it’s you. You were her favorite. I mean, it was a close run with Brian, but…”
“Dad.” Colin laughed. “She didn’t even know Brian. He only moved here two years ago.”
“Oh, right.”
As if the mini-blowup hadn’t happened, Colin changed the subject to the reptile excursion he planned to go on with his class and talked happily about Brian, his intention to pet and hold an actual snake, and added a hint or two about catching some frogs for an inside aquarium they really needed to buy.
Del stared down at her hand, where she still felt Mike’s touch, then did her best to shrug off her weird feelings. Attraction worked. Lust made sense. Anything deeper was plain stupid.
They ended the dinner with ice cream and a promise from Del to bring J.T. the next time she came.
“Over my dead body,” Mike murmured while she gave Colin a kiss on the cheek to say good-bye.
“I heard that.”
“Heard what, Del?” Colin looked back and forth at them.
“Nothing,” Mike growled. “Go brush your fangs, mutant.”
Colin hissed and clawed his hands at his father, then raced down the hallway to the bathroom, where he proceeded to make loud gurgling noises while brushing.
“Nice technique.” She stared after the boy, wondering why her heart should race now, of all times.
“Back at you.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Hard. “That…damn. I know it’s stupid. I sometimes have a hard time dealing with Lea’s passing. Next week is her birthday, and I get all fucked up about it.”
“Nice mouth.”
He swore again, and she forced a grin, not wanting him to see that his pain affected her. Keep it light. Be a friend.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Saint Delilah.” He grinned with her, the same dimple on his cheek that popped at her when Colin smiled.
“You two good? I mean, you aren’t going to wrestle him into submission when I leave, are you?” she asked.
“I would, but I’m scared he’d take me down. He’s tenacious.”
“Wonder where he gets that from.”
Mike stared at her.
“What?”
“He actually gets that from his mother.”
“I, oh.” What should she say to that?
“I know you lost your mom.”
“Yeah.”
“But you talk about her and it doesn’t hurt?”
She reached for his hand and entwined their fingers, pleased when he gripped her back. “My mom’s been gone for more than twenty years, Mike. It’s different. Plus, we were never that close.”
He stared at her forearm, but he didn’t ask any questions about her relationship, for which she was grateful. “You think I should talk about Lea with him? Tell him stuff about her?”
“If he’s asking, he wants to know. You loved her, right? And she loved him?”
He nodded.
“Then she’d want him to know her.”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that, but yeah.” Mike sighed. “It’s just…hard.”
She refused to give in to the compassion burning in her chest, thinking about how difficult it must have been for him to lose someone he’d loved so much. “Yeah, well, suck it up, McCauley. Life’s hard. As someone once told me, grow a pair.”
He blinked at her and gaped. “What?”
“Solid advice, if you think about it. I mean, I came back, and then we fucked each other’s brains out.”
He slapped a hand over her mouth and carried her to the front door, away from the hallway. “Would you shut up? You and that F-word.”
“Sorry, Dad.”
He grimaced. “Del, please. Don’t call me Dad or Daddy. Creeps me out.”
“Oh, well. I get that. You being an actual dad and all.” She grinned. “You can put me down now.”
She loved that he could so easily physically maneuver her. And that he’d lost that wounded look in his eyes, his gaze now filled with lust as he regarded her.
“You ever been spanked?”
“I—what?”
“By anyone.”
Immediately turned on by the thought of Mike doing the spanking, she shook her head.
“Didn’t think so. You need it. Discipline, I mean.” He kissed her hard and left her breathless. “Oh yeah. Next time we get together, I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”
She felt him aroused and rock-hard against her. His entire body was like living steel, hot, unbending, yet molten when handled the right way.
“Yeah? Well I’ll give you what you need too, studly. Don’t think you can manage me.”
“It’s on, brat.”
She glared. “Did you just call me a brat?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Dad,” Colin yelled. “I’m done.”
“Be right there.”
They sure did yell a lot. Though annoyed by the
big bully, she found the shouting match with his son charming.
So she did it too. “See you, Colin.”
“Bye, Del,” he shouted back.
“Just call us the Manners family,” Mike muttered while she laughed. “Come on. I’ll get your coat.”
“I didn’t bring one. I brought ice cream, remember?”
“Yeah, and don’t think you’re getting it back. Chocolate is my favorite.”
“Mine too,” she reminded him.
He frowned. “Well if you’re going to have a hissy about it, I’ll—”
“Excuse me? Hissy?”
“—bring you one when I see you next. Your place. Thursday night work?”
“Can’t. I have book club Thursday. If I miss it, I’ll never hear the end of it from Abby.” Or Rena, who was salivating at the prospect of meeting the great Abigail D. Chatterly.
“Friday then. I’ll bribe one of my brothers to babysit Colin.” Mike pulled her close and rubbed against her. “I want you.”
“Still? I’m impressed. Thought you’d worked me out of your system.”
“Like you’ve done with me?” He snorted. “Try again.”
“I still want you.” She shrugged. “But then, my standards aren’t that high.”
“Bullshit. I asked around. You haven’t been on a date in forever. I mean, you babysat my kid on Valentine’s Day. Pathetic.”
He kept her close, and she placed her hands on his chest to push him away. Except the feel of his muscle under her palms made her itch to continue touching him. “Yeah? Well at least I didn’t go out on a date with my mom.”
“Hey, I was trying to help her deal with my dad being an asshole,” he said in a low voice. “All the while your dad was making moves on her.”
She grinned and pinched his nipples, pleased when he hissed and ground his cock against her. “What can I say? We Websters are lethal.”
“No shit.” He took a deep breath and let it out, then set her far away from him. “Before I come in my pants, go home. Friday, your place.”
“I have a roommate.”
“Yeah, well I do too. I’m taking care of mine, take care of yours. Besides, I want to see your place.”
“Why?” Did he want to see how she lived? If she was good enough? Just because she looked a little tough and worked in a rough part of town didn’t mean she couldn’t afford—
“Because I want to fuck you hard in that bed. Then you won’t be able to dream without seeing me there.” He pointed a finger at her. “The way I dream about you thanks to the way you took advantage of me Friday night. It’s a real problem not being able to fall sleep with a hard-on.”
She blinked, not having anticipated that answer. “Good. Serves you right.”
“You’re such a cruel woman. But I can deal. Friday. Your place. And if the roommate is there, she can watch.”
“You really are a bad boy, aren’t you, McCauley?”
His leer gave her the shivers. “You have no idea, Webster. No idea.”
She left, seeing him in the doorway through the rearview as she tore down the street. Yet it wasn’t the remembrance of his leer that stayed with her, but the sight of his grief over the monumental loss of his wife that crept into her thoughts when she’d least expect it.
Chapter 8
“Which one, Dad?”
Mike swallowed around the lump in his throat and pointed to the small rise to his right. He and Colin walked down the paved path and turned to the grassy grave that had been freshly tended and cleared of yard debris.
“Oh, that’s nice. Look. It says her name. Lea McCauley.”
They carried flowers for her—lilies from Mike¸ carnations from Colin.
Mike felt worse than awful. As he stared at his wife’s tombstone, he saw bright gray eyes laughing at him. A vision of ash-blond hair and a sneer. Tattoos and steel-toed boots.
Ridding himself of thoughts of Del, he had to work to conjure a picture of Lea, not Abby, whom he’d seen just yesterday. He’d never had to work so hard to envision Lea before, and it scared him.
“Dad?” Colin gave him a worried look, clutching the carnations in his hand that he’d already accidentally smashed in the car. “Are you having a problem with the hole in your heart?”
It still amazed him how well Del had handled the concept of grief with his six-year-old. How simple an explanation, and how spot-on. “Yeah. I guess I am.”
“Is that why you never talk about Mommy?”
Mike hadn’t thought this would be so difficult. Bringing Colin with him made sense. The boy had asked to come, and unlike last year, he seemed much more mature, able to handle seeing his mother’s gravesite.
“I guess. I loved your mom a lot, and I miss her.”
“Me too.” Colin put his hand in Mike’s, his hand so much smaller, frailer. Like Lea’s had been.
“Okay.” Mike took a deep breath and forced it out. Don’t cry, you big pussy. It’s been six years already. Yet seeing Colin so grown-up, yet still small, reminded him how fast time could fly. How little time any of them had with the ones they loved. Lea’s death had not only deprived him of a wife, but his son of a wonderful mother. Fuck. Get it together.
Mike cleared his throat. “So. This is the part where you get to talk to her. I’ll go over there, by the tree, where you can see me. But you get this time to talk to her by yourself.”
“She’s not there, Dad.” Colin looked confused. “She’s in heaven.”
“Yes, she is.” God, Lea. You left us too soon. Look at what a wonderful boy you had. “But here, it’s like we can pretend she can hear us. I know she’s not here, but it gives me peace to talk to her sometimes.”
“Oh.” Colin chewed his lip. “Can I talk to her now?”
Mike nodded. When Colin just looked at him, he stepped away. “I’ll be over there.” He placed the lilies he’d brought for her over her grave and walked away to the far tree to lean against it.
The weather had held off. Gloomy but not raining yet, the sky promised a bleak hump-day to break up the week. He watched Colin gesturing wildly, petals going this way and that before the boy realized he’d nearly demolished the flowers. He hurriedly placed them next to the lilies before talking again.
What could he be saying? Telling her about his field trip, most likely. Mike grunted, still not sure he could take the time to join Colin on his day. It would hurt the boy if he couldn’t come, so Mike had to figure a way to take the extra time. He loved that his family was close to help out, but he hated always needing to rely on them. His parents had retired. He didn’t want them raising his son. Yet he had to admit the babysitting support alone had been invaluable for years.
Colin ended his conversation and returned to Mike with a smile. So strange, seeing his son’s joy in this place of sorrow. But knowing Colin was okay about it gave him a sense of ease as well.
“Your turn, Dad.”
Mike glanced around, seeing no one with them on this late Wednesday afternoon. “I’ll be right over there. Okay?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna look for ants and bugs.”
Mike nodded. “Fine. Just don’t hurt the tree.” The great oak was like a bastion of life in this area of death. Mike liked seeing it there, reminding him life indeed went on.
“I won’t, Dad. Vanessa told me I should never hurt trees or plants, because if they come to life, they might pull out my roots.”
“Vanessa has a vivid imagination.” He snorted. “But she’s got a point. You get what you give.”
“Yep. Karma.”
“Karma?”
“Abby and Maddie were telling me all about it. Karma. Like when some guy cut Maddie off in the car, she said he’d have car karma. And she put up three fingers at him.” In a lower voice, Colin added, “But I know she really meant the middle one.”
“Terrific. Then you understand.” Car karma. Really?
He was putting off his own discussion, discomfited to think someone might watch him talking to a grave. His own s
on, yet it felt weird. Watching Colin scoot around the tree’s base looking through grass for bugs, he let out a sigh and headed to Lea’s side.
There, he hunkered down into a crouch and positioned himself to see both her headstone and his boy. “Happy birthday, honey.”
The wind whispered against his face, a cool breeze with a hint of rain on the air.
“The big three-four. You should see Colin. He’s getting so big, he’s nearly as tall as you.” An exaggeration, though with her small size, it wouldn’t have taken much for anyone to tower over her. He made small talk, telling her about his parents’ mess of a relationship, of them finally getting back together. And then he rounded to a subject needing address—with himself more than her. “So, something funny’s happening to me. I met this chick.” He cleared his throat, unsure yet needing to tell her. As much as he knew she didn’t exist in the ground, talking to her like this gave him a sense of closeness he missed all the time. “This woman. She’s nothing like you.”
He pictured Del in his mind’s eye, but this time everything about her faded but her gentle smile, the way she’d helped him talk to Colin and made sense of something he had a hard time putting into words.
“I don’t worry about hurting her feelings. Or her. She’s a tough woman, and she’s got muscles nearly as big as mine.” An exaggeration, but Del’s fit body really turned him on. “I… I like her a lot, Lea. I had sex with her,” he confessed in a low voice, feeling a tinge of guilt he’d never before felt. He hadn’t been a monk for six years, but none of his other partners had mattered to him like this.
The ground stared up at him, silent with condemnation. Especially because he kept seeing Del’s face over Lea’s. “I’m sorry, baby. I just…” He took a moment to compose himself. “I love you so much. I’m confused. Del’s so… She’s tough. She swears. Had Colin telling me to pass the fucking potatoes,” he remembered on a surprising laugh. “But she was so great with him the other night. Had me talking about you for the first time in a long time. It hurt so much.” But he’d felt better after. He rubbed his eyes to rid himself of that awful burning sensation.
“I…sometimes I forget your face. I know your smile, your scent, your touch. I have your picture in my dresser drawer. Always close. But, Lea, I’m afraid I’m forgetting you.” An unconscionable sin against the woman who’d sacrificed her own life for her baby. No one had known her heart couldn’t take the strain of giving birth, or that she’d bleed so damn much. A freak thing, then she was gone. And he’d been alone.