Every Time I Think of You

by Tracey Garvis Graves

  “Yes, of course.”

  “They lifted fingerprints from the inside doorknob of the apartment but didn’t receive a match when they ran them through the national database.”

  I knew immediately what she was going to tell me. “Dale Reber had never been arrested,” I said, “so his prints weren’t stored anywhere.”

  Daisy nodded. “Jack asked the CSI to check. Dale’s prints were a perfect match.”

  “So he was looking for you that night,” I said. “Not something to steal. Just you.”

  “It looks that way,” she said. “He said, ‘Tell me,’ because he wanted my grandmother to tell him where I was, or maybe when I would be home. She protected me and she protected Elliott, but she paid with her life. She’s dead because of me.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “There were too many other factors that played a part in this. And Dale wouldn’t have come after you again if I hadn’t convinced Jack to bring him in for questioning. I’m the one who made things worse for you.”

  “But you were right,” she said. “And who knows if Dale would have ever been brought to justice without your help? I wanted the person who killed my grandmother to pay for it, and because of you, he will. I finally have the closure I was hoping for. My heart breaks when I think about my grandmother and all she endured, but I’m alive and Dale is behind bars. I have you and I have Elliott. And I’m ready to start living my life.”

  *

  Three days later, we were still at my dad’s house.

  “Either he’s a really good actor, or he actually likes having us around,” Daisy said.

  “Trust me, I can read him like a book. He might not admit it, but he likes having us here, especially Elliott. Is it okay with you that we haven’t gone back to your apartment?”

  “Yes,” Daisy said. “I don’t know what it is, but I feel very comfortable here.”

  “Good.”

  She’d had bouts of sadness. There were times she wanted to be alone and there were times I’d come upon her and Elliott playing down on the floor in the spare bedroom. I’d sensed that she needed to spend time with him—just the two of them—and I’d let her be. I’d slept with her in my arms every night, aching to do more than just hold her, but after all she’d been through, it was her decision to make. She’d let me know when she was ready.

  *

  After I read to Elliott and Daisy put him to bed in the spare bedroom, she joined me in my room. I was lying on the bed and Daisy walked over and stretched out on top of me. She kissed me and it was a different kind of kiss than the ones we’d been sharing.

  “I want you,” she said.

  I put my arms around her. “I want you, too.”

  “How many girls have been in this room before me?”

  “So many,” I said. “There was practically a revolving door on it when I was in high school.”

  “Well. That’s to be expected. You are gorgeous,” she said.

  “Actually, my parents never left me alone long enough to sneak a girl up here. You’re my first.”

  She slid her hands under my shirt. “Then I promise to make it memorable.”

  Gently, she pressed her lips to the corner of my right eye, which was still swollen shut. Thankfully, my left eye had opened up enough so that I wasn’t walking into walls, but I’d need three or four more days before I’d be back to twenty-twenty.

  “Your poor eyes,” she said. “Will you be able to see anything once my clothes are off?”

  “God, I hope so,” I said, rolling over on top of her and pinning her arms above her head. “But it may require getting up close and very personal, which won’t exactly be a hardship, sweetheart.” I brought my mouth down to hers. Her lips were soft, and her tongue met mine. I kissed her neck and worked my way down to the hollow that drove me nuts, biting and sucking.

  Daisy nudged me off of her and rolled back on top. Then she sat up, her legs straddling me, and took off her shirt and bra.

  “Can you see me?” she asked, waving her hand back and forth in front of my eyes.

  I flipped her onto her back, my head hovering a half inch or so over her nipples. “Oh, I can see you just fine,” I said, drawing one into my mouth.

  “I’m going to pretend your dad can’t hear all the bouncing around we’re doing up here.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I also didn’t mention that my bedroom door didn’t have a lock. It was a little late to be worrying about it now, but I hoped like hell Elliott wouldn’t walk in on us. All the lights were on and we weren’t under the covers, so the chance of Elliott seeing something he shouldn’t was extremely high. I pushed the thought from my mind and unsnapped Daisy’s jeans. “Let’s get these out of the way.” I pulled her jeans and underwear down and she kicked them off the bed.

  It actually was kind of hard to see her, so I decided to utilize two of my other senses—touch, followed closely by taste. Daisy whispered words of praise when I touched her, and then, when my mouth made contact, she slammed a pillow over her face to muffle the sounds that started coming out of hers. When her body finally stilled and the shuddering subsided, she sat up and helped me out of my clothes.

  “Oh, my. Look at you.” She reached out a hand to touch me.

  “My high school self is so incredibly jealous of my adult self.”

  “Your high school self is about to have his mind blown,” she said. “Or something blown, anyway.”

  I laughed, twisting her hair loosely around my fingers after she bent her head. “You are amazing.”

  I tried not to think about anything but how good it felt. When I sensed I was getting too close, I stopped her. “I need to be inside you.”

  After Daisy told me she couldn’t get pregnant, I’d asked if we still needed to use condoms. Since my divorce, I’d always practiced safe sex. Daisy had too, and she’d also been tested for STDs three times in the past eighteen months because she said she couldn’t be sure Scott hadn’t done something sketchy in exchange for drugs. “My doctor said there was no reason for a fourth test. Actually, he said there was no reason for a third,” she said. “But I wanted to be sure.”

  I figured if she’d been tested it was only fair that I be tested, too. What was one more blood test? I’d taken care of it the week after Christmas. I certainly wasn’t anti-condom, but I knew how good it felt not to wear one.

  I flipped onto my back because hey, what was one more squeak of the bedsprings when there were about to be a lot more? and pulled Daisy over on top of me. I tried—and failed—to suppress a groan when she sank down onto me.

  Now I did wish I could see her better. There was nothing I liked more than watching her move around on top of me.

  Except for maybe feeling her move around on top of me.

  I held her hips and she moved a little faster as she found her rhythm. Since I couldn’t really see anyway, I closed my eyes—eye—whatever. I listened to our breathing and the sounds Daisy was trying not to make. She trailed her fingers across my chest as she ground our bodies together in a way that told me it wouldn’t be long for her. And when she came, I felt every pulse of it. A minute or two later, I joined her.

  Afterward, we lay tangled together—me still worrying a little about the unlocked door—trying to catch our breath.

  “I love you so much,” Daisy said.

  I kissed her forehead. “I love you, too.”

  “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

  “In my childhood bedroom?”

  She propped herself up on her elbow and grinned down at me. “Maybe not that. But somewhere soothing and uncomplicated. I have so many things I still need to take care of. I can’t hide my head in the sand forever. I need to call Celine. I need to call my supervisor. When Nick called the other day, he said to expect some additional paperwork. It’s overwhelming.” She exhaled. “I don’t know if I can go back to the hospital. I’d like to think I’m strong enough to ignore the whispers and the stares, but I’m not sure I want the stress that will co
me with it. I know we’ve barely scratched the surface on our plans to relocate, but what do you think about expediting everything? Because if the time has ever been right for a fresh start, it’s now.”

  “You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that, because there’s something I want to run by you.”

  “Really?” It was hard to miss how hopeful she sounded. “Hold that thought,” she said. “I want to give you my full attention, but I really need to go to the bathroom first.” She pulled on her clothes and when she reached the door she turned the knob and said, “Oh my God. Did we forget to lock this?”

  I laughed. “Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

  EPILOGUE

  DAISY

  The backdrop of Lake Tahoe is made up of stunning vistas: lush, green forests of evergreens and pines that reach toward the clear blue sky, the snowcapped Sierra Nevada Mountains, and the dazzling, cobalt water of its namesake lake. The air is cool and crisp and smells cleaner than I could have ever imagined.

  I’m more accustomed to the dust and hot wind, and the shrubs and bushes of the Southern California desert, but I’ve adapted to my new surroundings with minimal effort. It’s not that difficult a task when you live in such a beautiful, breathtaking place.

  I didn’t have to think it over for very long when Brooks ran the idea by me that night in his bedroom. As we sat up talking for hours, I started mentally packing my bags when I realized how perfect this location would be for all of us.

  “And did you really mean it when you said you wanted my dad to come?” Brooks asked. “We have a fishing cabin up there—which my dad will insist on living in—so it’s not like we’d be sharing a place with him or anything.”

  I’d laughed. “After all the racket we made up here tonight, your dad will probably be grateful that he has another option. And as someone who was raised by her grandmother, you kind of hit the jackpot with me in that regard. I would love for Elliott to experience a little of what I had growing up. And your dad seems so happy to have you in his life again. I really can’t imagine leaving him behind.”

  Brooks loves San Francisco, so it surprised me when he said he wasn’t interested in moving back there.

  “San Francisco is a wonderful city, but it’s an incredibly expensive—and cramped—place to live,” Brooks said. “It’s highly doubtful our housing budget would stretch far enough to give us the space we’d need. A higher cost of living means more work, and a more frenetic lifestyle. If we moved to Tahoe, we could buy a house and have a lot more space than we would in San Francisco. I did some checking, and there are a couple of different newspapers and a hospital, so cross your fingers that they’re hiring. If you’re okay with this idea, I could contact a realty company and have them start putting together a list of properties for us to look at.”

  “I don’t have a lot of cash, Brooks. I always assumed that when I finally moved away I’d rent first, and when I had enough saved up for a down payment, I’d buy. I can easily pay my share of the mortgage payment and household expenses, provided I can find a job. But I only have about fifteen hundred in my savings account, and that’s only because I had to have something set aside in case of an emergency. Anything left over after I pay my living expenses goes to paying off Scott’s debt.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I can swing the down payment.”

  “That hardly seems fair,” I said, looking away. Especially since Elliott and I have already cost you ten thousand dollars.

  Brooks put his hand on my chin and turned my face back to him. “Listen, I’ve been saving for a down payment of my own for quite some time, so I have the money. We’re going to need someplace to live, and it makes more sense to buy.”

  “I know. You’re right.”

  He put his arms around me and gave me a squeeze. “Let’s get the ball rolling here and then take a drive up there and find ourselves a house, okay?”

  I took a deep breath, smiled, and said, “Okay.”

  *

  The house we bought is on the south shore, close to the Nevada border. It’s a spacious log-cabin-style home. There are three bedrooms, and upstairs there’s a large loft where Elliott can spread out all his toys and play when the weather is too cold or rainy to be outside. In back, there’s a fully fenced yard with a swing set, a sandbox, and an absolutely gorgeous view of the surrounding meadow.

  It was a bit of a fixer-upper. When the realtor showed it to us, we agreed that it was solidly built, with good bones. It didn’t need any major repairs, but it was in dire need of some updating. The previous owners had lived in the house since 1973, and it showed. Theo insisted he needed something to keep him busy and has thrown himself headfirst into the renovation project. He can often be found tearing out or ripping up something for us. Brooks is rather handy in his own right, but Theo clearly has him beat in the home-improvement department, and our home has undergone a remarkable transformation.

  Elliott is almost five now. On the days I work, he spends the morning at preschool and the afternoon with Theo, fishing for trout. When we first moved to Tahoe, he fell in love with skiing and begged us constantly to take him to the “swopes.” I’ve no doubt that by the time he’s seven, he’ll be skiing circles around both of us. Hiking has replaced our trips to the park, and Elliott squeals with delight at the chipmunks and squirrels we encounter on the trail. If we ever see a bear, I’ll be the one squealing, and not in a good way.

  Jack Quick stopped by my apartment a few days before we left Southern California. Once Brooks and I had decided to leave Fenton, we’d quickly put our plan into action. We’d quit our jobs and were packing up the last of my things.

  “Hey,” Brooks said when he answered the door. “Daisy was just saying we needed to take you out for dinner before we left.”

  Jack glanced at Elliott, who was sitting at the kitchen table, coloring. “I, uh, have something to tell you.”

  The serious look on Jack’s face made me tremble slightly. “Elliott?” I said. “Can you go into your bedroom for a second and make sure all your toys are packed the way you want them? I want to make sure we’re not forgetting anything.”

  He got down from his chair. “Okay, Mama.”

  Jack sat down in the living room, across from Brooks and me. “We put out an APB on Scott DiStefano when Dale Reber and Jim Watson were taken into custody. We wanted to ask him some questions that might help the case and see if he was aware of Dale’s involvement in the murder of your grandmother. We haven’t had any luck in tracking him down, but I got a call this morning from the Las Vegas Police Department. They found a truck registered to Scott DiStefano in a parking lot. There was a body inside that appeared to have been there for a day or two. They’re waiting on dental records, but we’re reasonably certain it’s your ex-husband.”

  I couldn’t speak.

  Regardless of all the heartache Scott had caused me, I’d never wanted anything bad to happen to him. I’d always hoped that one day he’d get clean. Get a brand-new lease on life. Maybe even work his way toward a relationship with Elliott. Images of Scott flashed before my eyes like a slideshow. I recalled the words he’d said to me the night Pam and I ran into him at the restaurant. I thought of the way he used to smile at me and how he’d tell me how happy he was that I was his wife. How he would hold me and tell me he loved me. The hardest, most bittersweet thing for me to remember was the night Elliott was born.

  Scott had looked at me with tears in his eyes. “I have a son,” he said. He held our swaddled child so tight that no one would have been able to pry him out of Scott’s arms.

  Someday, when Elliott is older and starts asking questions, I’ll call upon that memory and I’ll describe it to him in vivid detail. That’s all he ever really needs to know about his dad.

  “Do they know how he died?” Brooks asked.

  “Preliminary reports indicate an overdose. There were drugs and paraphernalia in the vehicle.”

  After Jack left, Brooks turned to me and said, “I might as well hav
e killed him myself, Daisy. Instead of the money, I should have just given him a loaded gun and told him to put it in his mouth. I may have despised him, but I’m not so heartless that I wished him dead.”

  I pulled Brooks into my arms. “You didn’t kill him,” I said. “He made his choice a long time ago.”

  Later that night, I found Brooks working his way through a bottle of wine on my tiny balcony. I could assure him over and over that it wasn’t his fault, but I understood that this was something he’d have to get through on his own.

  Our move to Northern California wasn’t without its challenges. Both Brooks and I struggled to find jobs. I had to start out part-time, and it was almost five months before a full-time nursing position opened up at the hospital. Brooks fared even worse since many newspapers were trimming staff and offering buyout packages to some of their long-term employees. He had hoped to get hired on as a reporter at the Tahoe Daily Tribune, but it was eight months before he was able to make it happen. In the meantime, he worked for a much smaller newspaper and did some freelance photojournalism on the side. Neither of these career setbacks affected our financial situation too much since we were both responsible when it came to spending money, but Brooks felt unsettled for a while.

  I made the last payment on my spreadsheet a few months after our job situation worked itself out. Brooks had long since offered to pay off the balance for me, but I was vehemently opposed to accepting any more of his money, and thankfully he didn’t push. I rewarded myself for the accomplishment by taking Brooks out for a fancy dinner.

  We celebrated our one-year anniversary, which we loosely calculated as “a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving,” about nine months after we moved to Tahoe.” Elliott was spending the night with Theo, so we got dressed up and went to Cafe Fiore.

  “This reminds me a little bit of the first time you took me out to dinner,” I said after we were seated at a small table in the corner. “Italian food, intimate setting.”

  “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to shoot me down at the end of the evening,” Brooks said.