Keep Me Wanting

by Angela Addams

  I nod. Got it. We’re golfing. I take the club and position myself.

  “Square your shoulders over your hips.” He nudges my elbow. “Lock these up.”

  I do as he says. “Shawn’s working with a crew. If you can’t take them all down, there will likely be retribution.”

  Detective Chandler adjusts my stance. “The entire time you’ve been doing time, I’ve been watching and waiting. Shawn, he’s slippery. I think that has a lot to do with your brothers’ help.” He touches the club. “When you swing, move your entire upper body, keep things locked, and put all your power into it.”

  “Keep my eye on the ball, got it.” I nod. “Cormac’s interested in a deal.” I swing and miss. Fuck.

  Detective Chandler moves in again and tweaks my stance. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” He steps back. “Go ahead, take another swing.”

  I do as he says, keep my eyes on the ball, and when the club connects, the vibration shoots right up my arm. The ball moves like a rocket, and I lose sight of it quickly.

  “Great shot!” Detective Chandler whoops.

  I smile as I hand him the club.

  “We’ll be out here until noon. Lunch is at one. If Shawn has a guy on us, he’ll see we’ve been busy.”

  “So how do we get your guys to the right place at the right time?”

  “Leave that to me.” He lines himself up with a new ball and takes a swing. The crack of the club connecting with the ball shatters the silence once again.

  “I can’t even see where that one went.”

  He’s grinning as he pulls out his phone. “The resort has an app for scorekeeping.”

  “Scorekeeping? Is this a competition?” I’m smiling as we head back to the cart.

  Detective Chandler climbs in the passenger side. “Damn right it is. You drive. I’ve got to enter our scores.”

  And that’s how he does it.

  I’m not sure who he’s texting, but in between shots, Detective Chandler feeds someone the information I share. Location. Time. Etcetera. It looks like he’s keeping score. We play at making it look real. Even going as far as talking about the Maggie situation.

  “I want you to know that I do really care about your daughter.” We’re on the green as he calls it, and the hole is visible. It’s like mini-golf at this point. Something I have played in my life but not very well, apparently.

  “That’s good to hear.” He grunts as I miss my shot. “Keep your eye on the ball, son.”

  “I told her I’d dance with her.” I shrug when he looks up at me. “At the reunion party today. She said she always has to dance with the little kids.”

  “And with me,” he adds, sounding dejected. He rubs his hand down his face. “She’s really upset.”

  “I know.” I point to my face. “I’m sure the makeup job won’t cut it at the reunion, but I’d like to make it up to her if I can. I’d like to give her a dance that she’ll remember.”

  Detective Chandler shakes his head. “No makeup in the world is going to pass my wife’s inspection, and we don’t want her finding out what the hell is going on.” He sighs. “But maybe you can dance with Maggie still.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Detective Chandler motions for the club. “I’ve got an idea that might get us both out of the dog house.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Maggie

  This reunion has turned out to be the most depressing event of my life. Liam not being around is one thing; it sucks, but being alone is familiar territory for me. Worse than that is the feeling of betrayal that sits in my chest like a lump of poison. I know that he and my dad both think they were doing what was in my best interest, but really, what they did hurt me more than the truth ever could have.

  Liam should have been honest about why he came, given me a chance to say no. I know he believed he was doing the right thing, but really, he had an ulterior motive to being here with me. He had a job to do for his asshole brother. I was part of that job—worse, a loser with no boyfriend, ripe for the taking, believing that he really wanted to be with me.

  I want to hate him.

  Except his actions don’t match what my brain is saying. He’d made this weekend about me. He’d told me over and over that he wanted me to be happy. And he’d succeeded in that right up until last night.

  So I’m dwelling on that cluster of a mind fuck and on the fact that Dad was caught up in it, too. He let me carry on with Liam, let me remain blissfully unaware of the truth and act like I was proving something with Liam being here. I got so caught up in it that I actually thought we might have a future together. I feel so stupid because of that. And Dad didn’t consider that when he put his own investigation ahead of me, setting me up as a fool. There is nothing in the world that feels more shitty than that.

  Charlotte moves in next to me, a plate of appetizers in her hand. “Here, eat something.”

  The banquet room we’re in for the final gathering is massive. Set up like a wedding reception, Grandma has spared no expense. Each table of six is draped with a vibrant red cloth, a gorgeous centerpiece on each with lilies and cascading green leaves, there’s a quiet melody wafting from a live band, and people are dancing. The room has a walk out to a long balcony where barbecues are set up. Delicious scents of food being grilled floats in on a slight breeze, but despite that, I have no appetite. There are seventy-five guests now and no more party games. Grandma has a speech planned to honor Grandpa, and then there will be eating, some dancing, and a whole lotta drinking for me.

  At least I’m not seated at the kid’s table even though I’ve already been asked twice to mind a baby who might be my cousin twice removed or something like that. People see a twenty-something female and immediately think she wants to get the feel of a baby on her lap. I don’t mind kids, don’t get me wrong, but I really just wanted today to be about having fun with Liam.

  “Is Liam with the guys, too?” Charlotte is eating a piece of cheese, her eyes darting all around the room. “Dad dragged Doug off with Uncle Bernard about an hour ago. Not sure what they’re up to.”

  “Huh?” I snap my attention back to her. “Uh, no, he’s gone.”

  Charlotte looks at me. “Still?” She frowns. “Is everything okay?”

  No, everything is definitely not okay. For a second, I forgot that Charlotte doesn’t know. She thinks Liam really is my boyfriend. She thinks that his family problems are my family problems, too, you know, like a real couple’s would be. I open my mouth, ready to confess, when Amelia comes waddling into the hall.

  And when I say waddling, I mean legs spread wide, arms arched out clearly avoiding rubbing her sides, walking like she’s riding a whale or something. Her skirt is billowing around her, and she’s not even wearing shoes.

  Charlotte gasps. “What happened to you?”

  Amelia is covered in the telltale pink hue of calamine lotion. Her cheeks, her neck, her arms…even her feet.

  She shoots a glare at me. “Didn’t know there was poison oak in the woods.”

  I cover my mouth. Charlotte nudges me almost hard enough to knock me off the chair.

  “Did you get it everywhere, Amelia?” Charlotte is trying not to laugh, but her voice cracks.

  I’m horrified as the pieces start to click together. Charlotte said that Amelia and Teddy snuck off into he woods last night; the poison oak is all over the sides of the trails. Holy shit!

  Teddy walks in, his legs set wide, just like Amelia. He makes his way toward us, a grimace on his face.

  “What did you guys do? Get on the ground and roll in the stuff?” I ask.

  Amelia shoots me another hard look. “How was I supposed to know what it looks like?”

  A hysterical kind of laugh bursts out of me.

  “Ladies,” Teddy says. “Can’t say this was the best idea we ever had. I was tempte
d to put on one of Amelia’s skirts just to keep the fabric off of my skin.”

  Amelia glares at me, her words a quiet, furious whisper. “Seriously, Maggie, you could have said something.”

  My mouth drops open. I am utterly speechless. Wait, this is my fault? “I did tell you that we didn’t have sex out there.”

  A bubble of laughter escapes Charlotte. It’s obvious that she’s doing her best to keep herself from making a scene. “Oh, Amelia,” she says. “You snuck out into the woods after acting like Maggie and Liam committed a felony with their scandalous behavior that didn’t even happen, and now it’s her fault that you paid the price? As if she’d warn you about anything!” She wags a finger. “Seriously, if there were ever an example of karma, this is it!”

  I can’t contain my laughter a moment longer. It bursts out of me like a fountain. I am a horrible person, but still… H-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s! Charlotte is snickering, too, quietly and with her hand over her mouth.

  Amelia huffs, attempts to cross her arms, but then stops herself. “Assholes!”

  “Come on, sweetie, let’s go get a drink.” Teddy makes a move to touch Amelia’s back, but she sidesteps him with a hiss.

  “Don’t you dare!”

  I go round three with another fit of laughter. The good, belly-hurting type. This exactly what I need for my heart and my mind.

  Charlotte is shushing me while trying to keep herself from laughing too loudly. I know I’m probably making a scene, but I’m laughing so hard that I’m crying, and the crying feels damn good. Like a release of all the pent-up emotions I’m carrying.

  “If I can have your attention please,” my mother says, her voice amplified by the mic she’s holding. “We’re about to get things started, so if you can take your seats…”

  There’s a hush over the crowd, the white noise dying almost completely. I pull myself together somehow as everyone moves to their seats, facing the dance floor where my grandma has joined my mom. I glance around for my dad but can’t spot him anywhere.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Grandma says, her voice clear and powerful over the mic. She’s always been a strong woman. Brave. Forthcoming. Reliable. The fact that she pulled together this massive undertaking to bring the family together is a testament to her tenacity and strength. Even with Grandpa gone, even though I know his death left a massive hole in her heart, she still achieved his dream of a gigantic family reunion, and in that, she’s honored him beyond, I’m sure, his wildest dreams.

  “This reunion wasn’t my idea,” Grandma says, echoing my thoughts. “It has been, by far, one of the best ideas I’ve ever followed through on, though. One of Harold’s pastimes was researching legacy. And family, as you know, was one of the most important things to him. He spent years and years, a lifetime, really, searching for extensions of his family’s lineage. He employed countless hours hunting down ancestry charts and historical timelines. Many of you probably know this about him, of course, most recently because of the letters he sent to some of you introducing himself as one of your family line, as a long-lost relative. What most of you don’t know is that he spent an equal amount of time compiling the branches of all of the family into this…”

  Aunt Geri and Chrissy step away from the back wall, carrying a long tube of fabric between them. Once they reach Grandma’s side, they let it unfurl to reveal an intricately detailed tapestry. A gasp rises across the room. Grandpa has documented all of the branches of the family line, hundreds of names, hundreds of lines intersecting and joining them all. It’s breathtaking. He was always artistic, always experimenting, but this…this is the most beautiful thing he’s ever created.

  “Harold devoted his adult life to creating this and died before he was able to complete it. He wanted so much for us all to get together at least once in our lifetimes. He wanted so much to see all of you together and to show you this visual representation of our relation to one another. I wouldn’t have been able to find you all without his hard work on this.” Her voice cracks, but she continues anyway. “Finally, after so many years of planning, I can say that his wish has been fulfilled. It would have been wonderful if he could have been here in person, but I know”—she touches her heart—“that he’s here in spirit. Harold, darling, they’re all here, a lifetime of hard work paid off.”

  The room explodes in applause. Some people are crying. My heart is clenching hard, and tears burn the backs of my eyes. I can’t cry, though, because if I do now, I won’t stop. This is too heavy. I forgot the point of this weekend because I made it all about me when, really, what this reunion is all about is family.

  “One more thing,” Grandma says, her eyes scanning the room before landing on me. “We weren’t expecting Harold to have a stroke. He was healthy, fit, active, and full of life, but it happened, and then everything changed. Life stopped for all of us for a time. Harold, he was a bootstrapping kind of man. He didn’t let things stop him from moving forward, and so we have moved forward. We’ve honored his memory and will continue to.”

  Her voice quivers a little. “What I’m trying to say is that you really don’t know how much time you have to spend with your loved ones. Life is so very precious, and so is the time you are given. You must live it up to its fullest potential. Always.”

  The room explodes again with applause and hooting and hollering. Grandma is smiling again, and so am I because I feel, for the first time in hours, that everything might actually be okay. If Grandma can keep going, so can I.

  “I’ve been told that Fred has something planned?” Grandma says, looking to my mother. “A performance? Oh! How wonderful!”

  The shades on the windows are being drawn, the lights turned down low. Suddenly, the banquet hall resembles an evening ball rather than an afternoon barbecue. The band starts playing a slow, soft melody, and suddenly Mom and Dad come waltzing across the floor.

  Dad is wearing a mask, simple in design but obscuring his face, and Mom looks captivated by him. Her eyes locked with his, their bodies moving in unison. They are always dancing. Even when there’s no music. Dad will twirl her around the kitchen out of the blue or Mom will move in behind him, wrap her arms around his waist, and just sway. From the time that I was a child, I remember them doing this.

  Whatever this is, Dad’s performance, it softens my heart to him because I know he only dances because he knows Mom loves to. It’s romantic, and it’s the reason I wanted a partner this weekend because I knew, at some point, Mom and Dad would dance…and then, like at weddings, everyone would dance. Granddad loved this about them, too. He always told me that one of the reasons he knew Dad was the man for Mom was because he’d take her dancing, and they always looked so perfect together, which they do. Right now, in this moment, they’re doing something that would make Granddad happy to see.

  “I guess Dad got his masquerade ball after all,” I say to Charlotte. “Mom can’t be pissed about this. It’s way too romantic.”

  The mask adds to the mystery of it all and sets the mood. My heart literally feels like it’s defrosting. Dad lied to me, yes, but everything he’s done for me in my life has always been with my best interests at heart. He might have gone the wrong way about it where Liam was concerned, but would I have wanted him to ruin my chance at happiness this weekend? No. Liam being a Doyle shouldn’t be a deal breaker for me. We can’t help who our family is or how they behave. Liam is a good man, despite his brother. I know this in my heart.

  I sigh as I look around the dance floor. It is way too romantic. Couples start to join them. The dance floor begins to crowd. Even Grandma is being twirled around…by a mask-covered Uncle Bernard.

  And then Doug comes, a mask covering his face as well, and holds out his hand to Charlotte, who gets up with a giant smile on her face and joins the other couples on the dance floor.

  At some point, I’m going to have to dance with a kid. I just know that’s going to happen. I look over my shoulder
to see if I’ve been spotted by any of the young guests.

  “Can I have this dance?”

  His voice is muffled, but I could never mistake it.

  I whip my head around. Liam is there, right in front of me, his hand extended. He’s wearing a dark suit that’s cut to fit his frame perfectly. He’s wearing a mask, like Dad…like Uncle Bernard and Doug…and it’s covering the worst of his bruised and battered face.

  “Maggie?”

  My heart melts into a puddle. I nod and take his hand.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Maggie

  Of all the thoughts going through my mind, it’s this one that is the loudest.

  He came back!

  Once the shock of seeing him in real life fades, I’m bouncing inside…seriously, like a giddy schoolgirl being treated to a shopping spree or something.

  He’s holding me just as Dad is holding Mom. Close, our bodies pressed together, twirling around the dance floor, somehow not banging into anyone. Our eyes are locked.

  He presses me even closer, his hands splayed over my hips. Strong hands. Familiar hands.

  “I know you said not to come back.” His voice is deliciously gruff and washes over me in a way that gives me a chill.

  “Yes, I did.” I thought I’d never hear his voice again.

  “But you also said you didn’t want to dance with the kids.” He gives me one of those breathtaking grins of his. “I owed you this dance, Maggie, and I’m not the kind of man who breaks a promise.”

  He leans closer to me, his lips brushing against my ear.

  “Especially when that promise is made with a naked woman under me.”

  My body heats from head to toe, and I melt in a wholly different way. All I can do is sigh when he nuzzles my neck.

  “I wanted to make sure you had the weekend of your life.” His tone has turned serious once again. He pulls back a bit so I can see his eyes. “I didn’t mean for things to happen the way they did last night. I didn’t want my family shit to ruin things for you. I hope—” He pauses. “I just hope this will make up for a little of it.”