Abrupt Changes: A Second Chance Romance (O-Town Book 3)

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Abrupt Changes: A Second Chance Romance (O-Town Book 3) Page 17

by Karen Renee


  “He was accused of kidnapping the first time he tried to keep her at his place,” Clint put in. I looked at him and he shrugged. “It’s the rumor on the street, that he kidnapped a kid back in the day and was never charged. Now it makes sense.”

  “The day after your father came clean about his... indiscretion was the day Tommy met with us for Libby’s IEP meeting. I only worked a half-day and he saw me in the parking lot. He knew something was wrong. We went for coffee, and...”

  She trailed off, and I didn’t need to hear anything further.

  On the one hand it wasn’t my business, but on the other hand part of me was dying to know how long she had the affair. Just as I decided it didn’t matter, Clint pressed for more.

  “It was more than a one-time thing, wasn’t it?”

  I stared at him. “How is that relevant?”

  “It was on and off for nine months,” Mom said, and I turned my glare at her.

  “What?” I breathed.

  “That visit at the grocery store was the last time I saw him. Your father had quit working for him the week prior to that run-in because he’d figured out not only that Tommy was getting into illegal affairs, but he suspected something between Tommy and me.”

  “Jesus,” I whispered, shoving my hands into my hair.

  “It was twenty-six years ago, Raegan. I would tell you I’m sorry for what I did, but really, it was between your father and me. You and Wynnie never knew anything different than the fact we loved you girls very much.”

  My hands fell out of my hair, and I shook my head. “He didn’t come ’round after Dad died? I mean that was what? Eight or nine years later?”

  An angry glint hit Mom’s eyes, but her voice was calm. “No. By then, he’d met and married his wife, Carla, though they never had children, which is sad.”

  “The daughter died, didn’t she?” Clint asked.

  Mom nodded. “Yes. About a month after things started with us. It’s probably why it lasted as long as it did. Libby’s death hit us both hard because tragically, it could have been prevented.”

  I dragged a hand down my face trying to process all of this information.

  “Raegan, look at me,” Mom ordered.

  I glanced at her.

  “Don’t judge me.”

  “I’m not, Mom. It’s just... I can’t believe Dad did that to you. I know how damned much that hurts.”

  She shook her head at me. “You can’t think any less of your father, either. Takes two to make a marriage work, and we both did things that hurt our marriage. Luckily, we were able to get things back on track and overcome our mistakes.”

  “Not many couples are able to do that,” Clint muttered.

  Mom’s chin dipped in agreement. “You’re right.”

  Clint took a seat next to me on the couch. “Well, Tommy’s willing to put a man on the house. You’re getting up and around better every day. I can get Brock or Gabe to spend the night, unless you think you’re good on your own.”

  She squinted at Clint. “You really think someone will come around here again, with both you and Tommy looking after us?”

  Clint’s lips pressed together for a moment. “I think it’s better to isolate Raegan. My house isn’t necessarily safer, but it is my home turf, so—”

  “You’re more at ease,” Mom interrupted.

  After a shrug, Clint whispered, “Yeah.”

  Mom nodded. “Whatever you think is best, but I wouldn’t want to impose on Brock or Gabe.”

  I stood up and they both looked at me. “I guess I’ll go get my bag ready.”

  I SET MY BAG IN THE corner of Clint’s bedroom with a sigh. He was in the kitchen on his cell phone with Brock or Gabe, setting things up for Mom. I wandered into his master bath, but there weren’t any bath salts or special soap for taking a bath. As I left the bathroom, my cell rang inside my purse.

  The display indicated Angela was calling and I smiled.

  “Hey Angela!” I answered.

  “Hey yourself. I’m seriously gonna have to send out a search-and-rescue party, you don’t keep in touch, girl.”

  My mouth opened to answer her, but the phone was snatched from my hand.

  I glared at Clint, who put it to his ear. “She’ll call you right back,” he said before hitting the red icon to hang up.

  “What the hell?” I demanded.

  “She’s in New York?” he asked, his eyebrows arching.

  “Yeah.”

  His eyes widened and his tone was firm. “Do not tell her anything.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t. Tell. Her. Anything. I mean it, Rae. I trust no one at this point and neither should you.”

  “She’s in New York, and I don’t know how much a hit costs, but she wouldn’t have the money for it.”

  “If you changed your will, who would the money go to? All to your mother? None to your best girlfriend in the Big Apple?”

  I sighed as I realized he was right. Still, that was crazy talk.

  “That doesn’t mean she’d order a ‘hit’ on me.”

  “You don’t know that, and Tommy doesn’t know where the hit was ordered from, except it came from ‘out of town’. So, do not tell her anything. Got me?”

  I sighed. “I got you.”

  He handed back my phone, and I redialed Angela.

  “Girl! What is going on with you? And please tell me the face and body that go with that voice are just as damn sexy. ‘Cause I won’t lie, I think my panties got wet, him talking to me like that.”

  “Nothing is going on with me, Angela. Just getting things sorted out with Mom. How about you tell me what’s going on with you? Work still the same ol’ same ol’?”

  She chuckled derisively. “Oh, you know it. Another day another dollar. You sure you’re okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  “Yeah, I’m as okay as I can be. Every day brings a different challenge without my sister around. But I don’t want to bring you down.”

  “Rae. I am your friend. You won’t bring me down. Whatever it is you can lay it on me.”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay, Angela. I’ll call you later in the week, how’s that?”

  She sighed. “I don’t like it, but if that’s what you want, that’s good with me.”

  I ended the call, and thought Clint would still be standing there, but he sauntered out of the bathroom. I heard the tub filling with water.

  “You want a bath? I noticed you walked in here and came out just as your phone rang. Figured a bath was calling your name.”

  I smiled wanly. “Yeah, but you didn’t have any of the stuff for it.”

  He grinned. “I had a small bottle of bubbles I never gave to Laura for her birthday, so the tub’s filling now. You want a drink? Or company?” he asked with an arch of his brows.

  My lips twisted to the side. “I’ll take the drink, but I’m not the best company right now, Clint.”

  Clint

  AFTER I TOOK A FULL glass of white wine to Raegan, I slipped out of the bathroom and went to the living room to watch football.

  Tanya and her family were taking dinner over to Penny in an hour. Then Brock was going to crash in the guest bedroom overnight. It wasn’t the best situation, and I was going to owe Brock big time, but it was the best I could do on short notice. I had called Debenedetti. He offered to have one of his people watch the house from the street.

  For a man who claimed to care about Raegan’s safety, I found it odd that nobody would be watching my place, but then again, I wouldn’t have wanted that. Maybe Debenedetti knew that, but something about this still struck me wrong. From experience, I knew dwelling on it all night wouldn’t help.

  I sighed as I thought of Raegan soaking in my tub. News like Debenedetti delivered was bad enough, but the bomb her mother dropped only made matters worse. Part of me really wished she’d have let me soak with her, not because I wanted to initiate anything but because she needed some company. Though, red-blooded man that I was, I had to a
dmit I’d have tried to divert her attention with sex. It wasn’t a cure-all, but our chemistry couldn’t be denied.

  As though my thoughts conjured her, Raegan padded out of the bathroom wearing a towel. My dick swelled, but I forced myself to focus on her eyes.

  “You need something, mamita?”

  She pressed her lips together for a moment. “This will sound outlandish and crazy, but if you still have the letters Mom wrote to you, can I see them? I don’t know why I want to read them, but I do. If you’d rather I not, or you don’t have them—”

  I stood up. “I have the first two. Once I got the key from her, there weren’t many more letters because she would call, or I would drop by. Though, the letters aren’t going to tell you much. I’ll get them out while you get dressed.”

  She nodded and went back into the bathroom.

  I opened the nightstand drawer and spied the colorful envelopes paper-clipped together. I opened the first one and set it on top of the second envelope. While I waited on Raegan, I reread it wondering what she could possibly glean from it.

  Dear Clint,

  I doubt you want to hear from me, but I hope you’ll forgive this intrusion (I didn’t have your new home address, and knew you’d taken a job with Otero-Silva). Even though you and my daughter split, I still think of you as the son I never had. That sounds trite and hokey, but it’s the truth.

  Believe it or not, I miss our heated discussions about politics. Raegan can’t stand talking about Congress, and Wynnie’s not much different. So, maybe you’ll find time to send me back a note. You can even tell me what makes the Republicans so great, though bear in mind, I’ll take plenty of time to write a full rebuttal before I respond.

  Truth be told, I’m getting up there in age and I was hoping I could give you an emergency key. Obviously, Wynnie and Rae have keys already, but if I should end up like that God-awful Life Alert commercial, the girls aren’t the people I want to call first – if you know what I mean? Of course, a strapping young man such as yourself probably doesn’t want to be the first on my list of phone calls either, but you’re certainly strong enough to get me from point A to some other point so I won’t be as embarrassed when the hot firefighters show up.

  If you don’t have time for an old woman like me, I understand. If you have a girlfriend who doesn’t like this idea... well, I’d say I understand that too, but really, what kind of woman is she to frown on keeping my emergency key? Oh, look what I’ve done. I told myself not to be too motherly in this letter, and I’ve gone and done it anyway.

  Have a Merry Christmas and keep an eye out. You’ll get another missive in roughly a week.

  Sincerely,

  Penny Connelly

  With a chuckle, I wondered how Raegan would take that letter. There wasn’t anything damning in it, so it wouldn’t hurt for her to read it.

  She moseyed out of the bathroom wearing one of my t-shirts, and I bit my lip. It was the strangest damn thing to me but seeing her in my clothes made me feel like she belonged to me.

  She perched on the side of the bed a foot or so away from me. I didn’t like the distance, but I set the first letter down for her to read.

  I grabbed the envelope to get it out of her way. To speed things up, I got the next letter ready for her. Whenever I read the first one, I couldn’t bear to skip the second, so I reread it.

  12/31/17

  Dear Clint,

  Happy birthday! Postal service willing, this card and letter reached you on your special day, if not in advance.

  It’s too soon for you to have responded to my first letter – assuming you got it – but I do hope you at least banter with me about politics. Wynnie tells me people are doing their own TV shows on computers... you never know, you and I could give those Meet the Press people a run for their money.

  Anyway, I know I said it plenty when you were around, but it’s worth repeating. You get jipped on your birthday, so do whatever it takes to make it special.

  Best wishes,

  Penny

  Raegan reached out and took it from me. Her eyes widened and she gave an outraged sigh before she closed the birthday card. She shook her head and looked at me. “Can you imagine? You two streaming on YouTube or some shit. As if.”

  I tilted my head. “Yeah. I said about as much in my response.”

  She chuckled. “I’d love to have seen your response.”

  I looked to the side. “Pretty sure I still have my response stored on the cloud.”

  Her head reared back, and her eyes widened. “You’ve been keeping correspondence on the cloud for the past two years?”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “Probably longer. I don’t trust Google, but I figure I’m one out of over three hundred million people. What I have to say to Penny or anybody else doesn’t matter that much. Shit for work, that gets done on work PCs and it’s encrypted.”

  She chuckled at me, but I already had my phone out and my Google docs folder opened. I wanted to scan the letter quickly before I handed my phone over, but I was pretty sure the majority of what I wrote was shit I had already told Raegan when she first came back to town.

  “Here you go, Rae. Hope you won’t be too hard on me when you’re done reading it.”

  She took the phone from me, and I situated myself so I could read over her shoulder.

  Dear Penny,

  Thank you for your letters. I received them back to back, but from now on, you should contact me at my home address, which is on the envelope, or listed below.

  I don’t know why you don’t want one of the girls to be your first call, then again... I’m not a parent. If you read nothing else though, read this: 911 should be your first call in an emergency. That might be the former cop in me speaking, but I mean it. And I hate to break it to you, the hot firefighters have undoubtedly seen it all, so you have nothing to worry about there. However, I would be honored to hang on to your emergency key. I’m not going to tell you whether there’s a woman to frown on that. I think the world of you, but I’d hate for you to start meddling and cross a line you can’t uncross with me or Raegan.

  Speaking of Raegan, if I take your key, I will ONLY do it if you swear you will not tell Raegan. You can’t do that, then you’re on your own.

  Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no way I’d put in writing the many things that make conservatism more beneficial than liberalism. Which is to say, I don’t approve of many politicians regardless of party affiliations. The system’s messed up and needs a complete overhaul. There’s too much money tied up in it now, so that’s never going to happen. You and me doing an internet-based TV show... also not going to happen. Sorry, not sorry, Miss Penny.

  If you agree to my only condition and want me to drop by to pick up the key, save you some postage, give me a call. I’ve listed my number underneath my address below. Thank you for thinking of me.

  Happy New Year!

  She looked up at me with a sly gleam in her eye. “I can’t believe you said, ‘sorry, not sorry,’ to my Mom.”

  I turned my head a fraction. “Most appropriate use of that asinine phrase, bar none, in my opinion.”

  She giggled. “You might be right.”

  I took the letters from her. “You get anything useful from that?”

  She shrugged. “Nope. She said not to judge her, and I’m trying not to, and she’s right. It was between her and my Dad, but part of me feels like she’s wrong, too. Does that even make sense?”

  “It might. How do you think she’s wrong?”

  She sighed. “Well, Dad cheating on her wasn’t just him cheating on her. It was him cheating on all of us. And her doing the same, it was a way of cheating on the family, too. Am I wrong?”

  I moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I think you’re a little bit of both. Your parents wouldn’t have seen it that way, not at the time. But, to an extent, you’re right in that infidelity to a spouse puts the entire family at risk. Had they not been able to overcome that, you and Wynnie
would’ve been shuttled back and forth between them. So, you’re kind of right. And, I’m fuckin’ sorry you got bombarded with so much shit today, Rae.”

  She smiled at me. “It’s okay. Um, if you’re not committed to watching a particular football game, can you play some of that music your Mom loves so much? What’s his name, Astro—”

  I held my hand up. “It’s Astor Piazzollo. And no joke, you mispronounce his name it may bring Mamá here in seconds, because any disrespect to him is a personal affront to her, such is her pride in her Argentinian roots. But, yeah, sweetheart, I’ll play that for you.”

  She chuckled, and I smiled.

  Chapter 19

  To Tomorrow, Honey

  Raegan

  I SAT ON CLINT’S LEATHER sofa listening to Astor Piazzollo wail away on the bandoneón, a square-built accordion, as Juanita had proudly explained to me so many years ago. My guess was that the harsh and chaotic melodies in his songs brought me a contradictory sense of calm when my life was in turmoil. Or maybe because the music reflected how crazy my life could be, it soothed me. I never really knew, but I had refused to listen to it after Clint and I split –which was why I couldn’t remember his name correctly. Listening to it now, I realized how much I missed this music.

  Clint was in the kitchen, though I didn’t know what he was doing. He’d asked what I wanted for dinner, but I told him I didn’t care. My appetite had taken off to parts unknown after I found out someone wanted me dead. Then, to learn about so much family drama from Mom, I would be fine with a sandwich or something.

  I heard Clint’s phone ring, and it became louder as he strode into the living room.

  He hit an icon and said, “You’re on speaker, Mamá.”

  I closed my eyes. If I couldn’t bear thinking about my family, I wasn’t sure being around his family was a good idea either. That was selfish of me, and I regretted it.

  Juanita said, “Dios mio. You’re listening to Astor!”

  “Reagan’s request, Mamá. She’s had a... well, a really rough day. You think you could bring some empanadas over?”

  “I can. Now, you take me off speaker, Clint.”

 

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