The Bed She Made

by Elicia Hyder

  It was over… again.

  Somehow though, despite that they had finally laid their feelings for each other bare, exchanged ‘I love you’s’, and even implied a final goodbye, she felt that the connection between them still wasn’t broken. She thought that maybe as long as they both were breathing it never would be completely over. And in that too, she hoped she was wrong.

  19

  Christmas Eve Party

  Journey hadn’t been the same since David called and said he was no longer coming to visit for the holidays. Marcus hadn’t missed the marked disappointment she was so desperately trying to hide. He tried not to dwell on it since he had, after all, given his blessing on David’s return to their lives. But he would be lying to himself if he tried to believe for one second that the power that David still possessed over his wife didn’t bother him. Truth be told, if David would have been in the state of Georgia when she told him, with tears in her eyes, that David still loved her, he might have run the man over with his patrol car and then shot him for good measure. He had told David as much over the phone the next day.

  Rationally, Marcus reasoned that he had enough to keep him busy without worrying about a conversation that he had been expecting to come for almost a decade. It was done, so he decided to let it go. Besides, David was half a world away, and he knew he would probably have to cheat to beat David in a fight.

  The week before Christmas, Brian Drake’s trail reappeared through Emerson, and U.S. Marshals had moved in from Atlanta to apprehend him on behalf of the DEA. Drake was slick though, and he evaded them at every turn. He was able to scatter to the shadows like a cockroach when a spotlight lit up. Marcus was hell-bent on finding him. He was determined to make headlines again and secure his future with the department.

  With the pressure of the Drake case looming over him and the strain of the pending holidays, it was all he could do to not fall into a coma when he returned home late each night. Two days before Christmas, when he got home, he found his wife lying on the bed with a glass of wine in her hand and her handgun in its holster on the nightstand. He glanced curiously around the bedroom before dropping his bag near the closet and pulling off his jacket.

  “Hi honey,” he said cautiously. “Whatcha doin’?”

  She flipped the channel on the television with the remote control. “Just waiting on you to get home,” she answered. “How was work?”

  “Busy,” he said. “What’s up with the gun?”

  She took a sip from her glass. “Don’t you remember what today is?”

  He thought for a moment. “Christmas Eve, Eve?” he asked.

  “Steven’s release day,” she reminded him.

  He paused as he was unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh yes. How could I forget?” He stripped off his shirt and took his gun out of its holster. He cleared the chamber and placed it on top of the dresser. “Are you still worried about that?”

  She reached over and tapped the Taurus with her fingertips. “Not a bit,” she answered.

  He eyed her carefully. He couldn’t remember the last time she had given him anything more than a fake half-smile. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here all day. Did you go out at all?”

  She nodded. “I picked up the food for the party tomorrow night, but I still have some prep work to do in the morning.”

  “I forgot all about the party,” he admitted as he sat down on the bed to untie his shoes.

  “Do you have to work?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Not unless I get called in. I have a couple of cars sitting on Barbara Drake’s house to see if her son shows up for the holidays, but if nothing happens, I’ll stay home. I have off for the next few days.”

  She nodded. “Good.” After a moment, she spoke again. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking today.”

  He couldn’t help but be a little worried about that statement from her. There was no telling what her brain had been mulling over all day. “Go on,” he said. He kicked off his shoes and stretched across the bed so he could rest his head on her stomach.

  “I think I know how Brian Drake got linked up with the Aryan Brotherhood,” she said.

  Those words got his attention. He rolled over and looked at her. “I would love to know that answer.”

  “Steven,” she said.

  He raised his eyebrows hoping she would elaborate.

  “You told me that Steven assaulted that deputy in prison to probably get protection from a white supremacist group,” she reminded him. “He’s involved.”

  Marcus was shocked that he hadn’t yet considered that. “Makes a lot of sense,” he said.

  She turned her eyes toward him. “You follow Steven, and you’ll find his brother.”

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling fan. “Damn Journey, maybe you should be the detective. I had decided to watch the family but didn’t put the Aryan thing together till you just mentioned it.” He laughed. “I’m impressed.”

  “I want you to catch that bastard, Marcus,” she said with an icy chill in her voice.

  He grasped her hand and kissed it. “I will. I promise.” He rested her hand on his chest and let out a slow breath. “How has Genna been today?”

  “She pulled up on the coffee table,” she said almost smiling.

  He laughed. “Really? Did you video it?”

  “No,” she answered and turned her attention back to the television.

  He groaned. “Baby, I need you to cheer up. It’s Christmas.”

  She placed her hand on his head. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s just been a rough day.”

  “No more from David, I assume?” he asked as he twisted a button on her pajama shirt.

  She just shook her head.

  “I love you,” he said with his best pouty face.

  She gave him a phony smile. “I love you, too.”

  He had an idea. He pushed himself up and offered her his hand. “Come with me.”

  She groaned.

  “Come on,” he insisted, stretching his hand further in her direction.

  She finally placed her hand in his, and he pulled her off the bed. He took her glass of wine, finished what was left of it, and placed it on the nightstand beside her gun. He led her into the living room where the Christmas tree was still glowing. The scent of fresh pine was almost overwhelming.

  He searched for a moment until he found the box he was looking for. He picked it up and offered it to her. “Here, I want you to open this early. I was going to wait till Christmas morning, but I think you need a little Christmas spirit tonight.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You have to open it, silly.”

  She took the small, rectangular box from him. He led her to the sofa and pulled her down onto his lap. Carefully, she peeled away the wrapping. She removed the lid from the box and pulled out the blank, white envelope inside. She turned it over in her hand before raising the flap and sliding out a piece of paper. He carefully watched her eyes as she read, and to his delight, her face brightened.

  She laughed for the first time in weeks and covered her face with the paperwork. “Mexico? Are you kidding me?”

  He reached up and pulled her long hair back behind her shoulder. “I remember this irrational young girl who always liked to run away when she was upset. I figured this time we could run away together for a little while.”

  She giggled and melted into his arms. “Why are you so good to me?”

  He rubbed her back and kissed a spot of bare skin on her neck. “Because you’re mine and I can.”

  “When are we going?” she asked, looking back at the travel papers.

  “In February. I already took the time off of work and arranged for Nana and Poppie to keep Genna for the week,” he said.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. “I promise I won’t be sad anymore.”

  He pointed at her seriously. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he said. “No more moping ar
ound, feeling sorry for yourself, and being worried that a convict is going to burst down our door.”

  “No more,” she agreed, nodding her head.

  He tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her deeply. They hadn’t kissed that way in far too long. Her nails scratched across his shoulders, making his entire body tingle. He hooked an arm under her legs and secured the other behind her back. Lifting her in his arms, he carefully stood. He kissed her all the way to their bedroom and kicked the door closed when he carried her inside.

  · · ·

  Kara was the first of the guests to arrive at the party that evening. She had promised to come early to help Journey get things set up, but Journey was almost finished by the time she got there. It had been Kara’s idea for the party to be semi-formal dress and though Journey had bucked the idea in the beginning, she was glad for it when Kara sashayed into the kitchen. She looked spectacular in a fitted red satin party dress that was cut low on the top and cut short on the bottom.

  “Wow,” Marcus said, looking up from where he was mixing bourbon into the eggnog.

  Kara did a model’s turn in the kitchen. “Thank you!”

  Journey shook her head and sighed. “Once again, I feel underdressed next to you.” She was wearing the short navy dress she had worn to the last police banquet.

  Marcus leaned over and nibbled on Journey’s bare shoulder. “Personally, I think you’re overdressed,” he said.

  “Oh, get a room,” Kara teased. “Why are you letting Marcus mix the booze? Do you want this to be a party or not?” she asked, taking the bottle from him and turning it completely vertical over the punch bowl.

  “Hey!” Marcus shouted.

  She shooed him away with a well-manicured hand. “I’ve got this. Why don’t you go get dressed?”

  He looked down at his jeans and white button-up. “I am dressed,” he said.

  She looked him up and down and frowned. “Go get dressed again.”

  Journey covered her mouth so she didn’t burst out laughing. Marcus looked at her with his mouth hanging open and then pointed at Kara. “She’s mean.” He looked down at his clothes, then back at Journey. “Do you think I should change?”

  Journey pressed her lips together.

  Kara pushed him toward the hallway. “That’s a yes,” she said. “Go.”

  Journey laughed, and he swatted her on the butt as he passed by.

  Journey stepped over beside Kara and looked up at her. She laughed at their height difference. “You’re like ‘Attack of the 50ft Tall Woman’,” she said, glancing down at Kara’s huge red heels.

  “You just need to put some shoes on. That’s a cute dress,” she said.

  “Not as great as yours. That thing is spectacular.”

  Kara dunked her finger into the eggnog and licked it. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

  Journey shook her head. “Not at all. You look gorgeous. Where’s Justin?”

  Kara groaned. “At his stupid shop. Some guy’s wife bought him a bike, and Justin has been working day and night to get the thing done in time for Christmas.”

  Journey’s eyes widened. “Is he coming tonight?”

  Kara rolled her eyes. “If he doesn’t, I’ll kill him.” She looked around the room. “Where’s Genna?”

  Journey nodded toward the steps. “Upstairs asleep. I’m hoping she’s down for the night, but being that it’s so early I kind of doubt it.”

  Kara grinned mischievously. “I want to go wake her up.”

  Journey pointed at her. “Do you have a death wish?”

  Kara poured two glasses of eggnog and handed one to Journey. She held it up for a toast. “Merry Christmas, chick.”

  Journey smiled and clinked her glass. “Merry Christmas.”

  Half of the party guests had shown up by the time Marcus finally came back down the hallway. He was wearing the same suit he had worn at their wedding.

  Journey laughed. “What have you been doing in there?”

  He straightened his jacket. “I came out once, but Kara intercepted me in the hallway. She told me no and sent me back in.” He looked down at the suit. “I finally put this thing on since she’s the one who picked it out for our wedding.”

  Journey hooked her arm around his neck and kissed him. “You look smokin’ hot, babe,” she said.

  He smiled and slipped his arms around her waist. “Maybe I should wear it every day then,” he suggested.

  “Journey, your sister is here!” Kara called from the front door.

  She grabbed Marcus’s hand and pulled him through the living room. The party was on the wrap-around porch outside. Marcus had decorated the porch in the front and the large deck in the back with white Christmas lights. He had put out big kerosene heaters, even though the evening was pretty mild.

  Elena was walking up the front steps in a black dress with her hair shorter than Journey had ever seen it. More impressive than her new hairstyle, was the man who was holding her hand. He was tall with long brown hair and a salt-and-pepper goatee. He was wearing boot cut jeans, a Rolling Stones t-shirt, and a blazer. Journey had only heard about her sister’s new boyfriend over email and in phone calls, but she liked him immediately.

  “You made it!” she cheered, embracing her sister. “Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas,” Elena said. “The house looks great!”

  “You look great! I love your short hair!”

  Elena laughed. “I look like the high school version of you!”

  “Nah, it would have to be blue or pink,” Marcus teased, stepping forward to give Elena a hug.

  “Merry Christmas, brother,” she said.

  She pulled away and turned to her boyfriend. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Derek, this is my little sister, Journey, and her husband, Marcus. This is Derek Gilmour.”

  Marcus and Derek shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Derek,” Marcus said.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Kara sang as she danced toward them.

  Elena cheered. “Kara, I haven’t seen you since the wedding! You look amazing!”

  Kara had to bend down to hug her. “Your hair is awesome!” Kara exclaimed.

  Marcus nudged Journey in the side and nodded to Derek’s pants. “Why does he get to wear jeans?” he whispered.

  Journey giggled and elbowed her husband in the stomach. Inside, the house phone was ringing. Marcus moved in the direction of the door, but Journey grabbed his arm. “I’ll get it, babe,” she said, smiling a little too wide.

  He cut his eyes at her. “Why?”

  She shook her head and kissed his cheek. “Hey, Kara!” she called. “I need you in the house!”

  Kara followed Journey back inside. The phone stopped ringing. Journey looked up at her. “Out in the garage, in the extra refrigerator, are a bunch of champagne bottles. Can you grab them and bring them in for me?”

  Kara cocked an eyebrow. “Since when do you drink champagne?” she asked.

  Journey shook her head. “I don’t, but other people might.”

  “Alright,” Kara said, walking toward the garage door.

  Once she was gone, Journey walked over to the stereo that played through the speakers outside on the deck. She put in a homemade CD and pressed play.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” she heard Kara yell in the garage.

  Journey cringed and laughed as she ran to the front door. “Marcus!” she whispered as loud as she could.

  He looked over. “Yeah, babe?”

  She pointed back toward the driveway where she saw Justin’s truck pulling in the drive. “Go help him!” she said as loud as she dared.

  “What?” He asked over the music. “I can’t hear you!”

  She pointed again. “Go help him!’

  He looked toward the driveway, and when he started, obediently, down the stairs, Journey went to the garage just as Kara stepped back into the kitchen shaking her head furiously. “What the hell happened out there?” she yelled at Journey. “I can’t get to that st
upid fridge. There’s too much crap in the way. Make Marcus get it.”

  Journey shook her head and grabbed Kara’s hand. She pulled her back toward the garage. “Come on. I’ll help you. I sent Marcus to put a sign down by the road.”

  Kara groaned as they walked back to the garage.

  Between them and the champagne was a maze of boxes, tool chests, hunting gear, bicycles, and Marcus’s motorcycle. Kara put her hand on her hip. “How did you even get it over there?” she asked.

  “Marcus crammed all this stuff in here today when I told him to clean up the house for the party. I guess he didn’t realize I would need to get to the fridge,” Journey explained. She started moving boxes out of the way and slowly cleared the path across the two-car garage.

  “Well that’s freaking stupid,” Kara grumbled as she pushed a rolling tool chest toward the wall.

  Ten minutes later the girls finally reached the refrigerator. “Your husband is a moron,” Kara said as she yanked the refrigerator door open.

  Journey sighed. “I know.”

  Kara passed two bottles to Journey, then loaded the other three into her arms before kicking the door closed with her heel. Journey led the way back into the house. “Where do you want these?” Kara asked.

  “Just put them on the bar for now,” Journey answered.

  Journey placed her bottles on the counter and quickly shuffled out onto the deck. Kara’s parents, Jann and Rod, were there. So were Justin’s parents and his older sister, Leanne. They were all standing in a line on the grass, each holding a blown up photo of Justin and Kara together from Christmases past. Marcus was at the end of the line holding two photos. Journey rushed down the steps and took one from him. Justin was nervously tugging at his suit.