A Place to Call Home

by Jessica Berg

  “Okay, I’ll be right there.” Dominick waved her off.

  Molly sauntered away, hips swaying to the music.

  Dominick cleared his throat and finished his beer. He jammed his hands through his hair. “Molly O’Shannessy is —”

  “Looks like Molly needs you on the dance floor,” Grace interjected and escaped to the dance floor. Much to her embarrassment, the song switched to Kaci and JoJo’s love song, “All My Life.” Standing all alone on the dance floor, she wished a hole would open up, suck her into an abyss. She weaved through the couples again, searching escape.

  She wanted to go home, wherever that was. Before she reached the edge of the dance floor, a firm hand she knew all too well captured her right hand.

  “You need to stop walking away from people. It’s rude.” Dominick’s breath fell warm and minty on her cheek.

  “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

  “Do you mean that?” Dominick’s eyes flickered in the strobing lights.

  No! Her lungs hiccuped. Light-headed from his touch, she yanked free from his grasp. “Please, I need to sit.”

  “Hold on to me.” He clasped her hand and pressed her to his hard body. His arms wrapped around her, and his large hands rested possessively on the small of her back. He swayed gently to the music, his steps taking them around the dance floor.

  “You look stunning tonight.” His voice, hoarse and soft, whispered in her hair.

  “You clean up well too.” At his chuckle, desire simmered through her body.

  “You will inflate my ego with such compliments.”

  She smiled into his shoulder and breathed him in. Her fingers itched to trace the fine hairs on the back on his neck. But she kept them intertwined and locked in place. The last time she’d danced had been with … needing to escape, she wriggled from his grasp.

  “I didn’t mean to step on your toe. Won’t happen again.” His smile stalled. “What’s the matter? You okay?” His finger played with a curl.

  Her skin tingled, begged for more. She pulled away from his touch. “Drink. I need a drink.” Staggering to her chair, she placed the cold glass on her forehead and closed her eyes. She gulped her drink and searched for Phoebe on the dance floor. Nothing. She did catch sight of a ticked off Molly scolding an equally angry Dominick. Lover’s spat. Jealousy fueled her panic. She spotted her pink-clad sister slow dancing with Noah. Maneuvering through the swaying couples, she seized her sister’s arm.

  “Hey! I’m dancing here.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head out. Can you get a ride from Noah?”

  Phoebe slid a hand down her side. “I’m looking so fine, my friend, I could make him do anything.”

  “How many drinks have you had?”

  Phoebe giggled and hiccupped. She held up two fingers, stared at them, giggled, and held up two more. “Five, I think … or was it six … ” Shrugging her shoulders, she gave Grace a tiny finger wave and swayed back to Noah.

  Grace escaped the crowd, the noise, the joy. There had been no joy at her wedding. The June summer night hugged around her and blew humid, sultry air in her face. A nasty blister from her black strappy heels would hurt like the devil tomorrow, but she was in no condition to drive. She stalked out of the parking lot and down the sidewalk.

  Every click of her heels clipped out the letters of his name, “D-o-m-n-i-c-k!”

  “Oh, shut up,” she cursed at her shoes.

  A pickup rumbled behind her. She ignored it and continued walking along. The truck pulled next to her, and the passenger window opened. Dominick leaned across the seat and called out to her.

  She ignored him, held her head high, and continued walking.

  Dominick swore. “Would you please stop?”

  She stopped. Turning sharply on her high heels, she planted her hands on her hips. “Did you swear at me?”

  “Yes. Sorry. I need to talk to you.”

  Grace spread her stance and braced herself. “Okay. Talk.”

  “Can I give you a drive back to your hotel?”

  “Talk or I start walking again.”

  He cursed. “Anybody tell you you’re a stubborn woman?”

  “Several times.” She started walking. A truck door slammed. Excitement coursed through her body. An arm snaked around her and pulled her against a solid chest.

  “Grace, please let me explain.” He cupped her chin and tilted her face. “Molly is just an old girlfriend from high school, who still doesn’t seem to understand that I dumped her more than a decade ago. If you haven’t noticed, I avoid her whenever possible.” He wouldn’t let her jerk away. “It’s you I care about. Ever since you walked into my life, I can’t get you out of my head. You intoxicate me.”

  His lips sipped at hers. She clung to him, her breathing shallowed, her heart raced. Her blood pulsed through her body as he pressed harder against her. Did his blood match hers, rip through his body like a torrent?

  “You’re shaking.” He broke off the kiss, his lips only a whisper away, and curled a piece of her hair around his finger. He released the curl and trailed his thumb along her exposed collar bone.

  Light-headed and dizzy, she struggled to keep to her feet. Desire shot through her body, pooling low in her stomach. “I … um …” Panic. Grace pushed hard against him. Caught off guard, he landed hard on the pavement, his head crunching against the curb.

  “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” She dropped next to him and started checking for broken bones.

  He groaned, opened one eye, his voice husky. “If you keep checking me for injuries, I can’t be held liable for what I’ll do.”

  Her hands stopped mid-thigh. Never taking her eyes off his, she kept her hands there. “I’m sorry I pushed you. I panicked.”

  He rubbed his head. “I’ll have a good-sized lump and a mother of a headache tomorrow.” Sighing, he slouched against the curb. “What’s going on between us?”

  She let him go, fiddled with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing.”

  “You call this nothing?” He captured her chin, tilting her face. “Your eyes, your kiss, your laugh. Don’t tell me you don’t experience the rush.” Resting his forehead to hers, he murmured her name, that one syllable stroked by a husky, deep voice. A purr formed in the back of her throat.

  She escaped his caress and stood to pace out an argument, one that didn’t sound as stupid as she knew them to be. She glanced at him. His hair, mussed and bed-head looking, fell casually over his forehead. He’d lost his vest and tie somewhere throughout the night, and he wore the shirt half open with the sleeves still rolled. Sitting on the side of the road, leaning against the curve, wearing a serious expression, he belonged in a Calvin Klein shoot. Unable to concentrate while looking at him, she continued her pacing. Her heels echoed a sharp tattoo through the empty street.

  “I don’t know you,” she blurted. “You’re just a guy I hired to do a job. This wasn’t supposed to get complicated. You should be nothing to me. I need you to be nothing to me.” She held up a hand to stop Dominick from interrupting her. “You don’t know me either except that I’m scared of slimy fish and squirrels and like the color blue. You know I’m slightly crazy and am related to a woman crazier than I. But guess what?” She flung her arms out in frustration. “There’s a lot more you don’t see, all right. My past … my ex not only tore my heart out, he also stomped on it and set it on fire. I’m not sure I can ever —” She swallowed the oncoming tears. “You might not like what find, and I’m not willing to take that risk.”

  He jumped to his feet, cupped her face in his hands, the callouses a rough sensation. “That’s who put that lonely look in your eyes. If I ever meet him, I’ll put my fist through his face.”

  She fought her twitching grin but said nothing.

  “You think you’re the only one with a past? You must have me confused with the model boy of the community. I am far from it.”

  “Doesn’t matter, this isn’t happening. Can’t hap
pen.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “Myself. Okay? Happy now? I can’t —”

  “I want to be there for you, Grace. I want to help you through this. I want to help rebuild your life. But I’ll respect your decision. Tell me right now you want me out of your life, and I’ll never bother you again.” His thumb caressed her wet cheeks, his warm gaze held her in a trance.

  Emotions and her several whiskey diets clouded her judgment, making it hard to formulate a single idea. He brought kindness, understanding, warmth to the table. She brought mistrust, a bruised heart, a terminal of baggage. He deserved better.

  Through her tears, she studied his shiny black dress shoes. “I can’t do this.”

  Her rejection slapped his face. His hand jerked, and his fingers traced her skin as his hand trailed away. Without another word, he jumped in his truck and drove off down the deserted road. Grace stood in the middle of it, looking after his taillights, the red blurring in her vision.

  ***

  Refusing to glance in his rearview mirror, Dominick turned the volume up in his pickup, Metallica drowning his hurting heart with a little “Enter Sandman.” By the time he pulled into his driveway, his heartbeat had slowed even though the sting of her rejection still stung.

  After paying and dismissing the babysitter, Dominick tip-toed into Lilly’s room and sat next to her bed. Her blonde curls lay askew on her pink pillow, and her little mouth twitched into a pouty pucker. Under her closed eyelids, he knew the color blue that lay behind them. Cornflower blue so pure and innocent, they mirrored the heavenly skies.

  Watching his little girl sleep was the best time of his day. Sometimes he sat there for hours, drinking in her innocent features. Surprised by wetness on his hand, he put a hand to his face. Tears. He ducked his head, gave up. Memories he had kept on a tight leash broke free. No longer dammed, the tears came, bringing with them the onslaught of memory.

  “Hold your fire!” Dominick raised his hand in a closed fist. This mission was going south and fast. The small, thatched house in the middle of nowhere Brazil was more a fortress than a hut made of grass and sticks. He was the Big Bad Wolf for goodness sakes. But he knew who was inside. An insane man, marked by the U.S. government, who knew he held the upper hand. He had Dominick’s wife and child.

  Sweat beaded and ran rivers down his body. Wiping sweat from his eyes, he studied the structure. Getting Carlos was not the problem. Getting Carlos without losing his wife and child was a whole other animal. Gunfire erupted from the hut. A searing pain cut across Dominick’s upper arm. Sucking in a quick breath, he checked his wound. Not fatal. Looking through the dark jungle, he spotted his men and gave the sign. As one united front, they slithered on their bellies, using their night vision goggles to guide them. They were now within a couple of feet from the building when all hell broke loose.

  The door to the thatched hut burst open, and Carlos stepped out—with a hostage. Dominick’s heart imploded. Holding a three-month-old Lilly in front of him for protection, Carlos pointed his gun into the dark forest. “I want a helicopter. Now!”

  Dominick knew the orders. Do not negotiate with terrorists. Ever. Nausea churned in his stomach. Black hatred filtered over his heart like a dense fog. Carlos would kill his baby girl and wife if his demands weren’t fulfilled. He steadied the scope, lined up the crosshairs for the kill shot.

  Through his goggles, a figure approached Carlos from behind. Dread stabbed his heart as his mouth opened in a silent scream. NO! In a green haze, Carmen raised a knife over her head and brought it down between Carlos’s scapulas. With a shout, Carlos dropped Lilly and whirled around to encounter his attacker. Through Lilly’s screams and Carmen’s cries, Dominick locked in on Carlos’s back and pulled the trigger. Simultaneously, Carlos pointed his gun at Carmen and shot, the two explosions intertwining in the thick jungle air.

  Dominick dashed to his baby girl and swept her up in his arms, snuggling her against his uniform. Kicking Carlos’s dead body away, he grabbed his wife and crushed her limp body to his. Still alive, Carmen touched Dominick’s cheek. Tears pooled in her eyes as Lilly cried.

  He laid Lilly in Carmen’s arms for the last time and held on fiercely to the two most precious things in his life. Not until his wife’s gurgling gasp did he let go. With an animal-like cry, he lowered his wife to the ground. He kissed her still-warm lips and gently shut her eyes. He’d never gaze into them again.

  “Daddy?” His head jerked. His wife’s eyes stared back at him. No, his daughter’s eyes. “Why are you crying, Daddy?”

  He snatched his baby girl from her bed and held her tight. Lilly, his life, his rock. “Oh, baby girl, I’m just remembering your mamma.”

  Lilly’s pudgy little hands touched his cheek. “Mamma’s in Heaven, right?”

  “Yes, baby girl.”

  She wriggled loose from his tight grasp. “I’m not a baby anymore, Daddy. I’m a big girl.”

  “No matter how old you get, sweetheart, you’ll always be my baby girl.” He whisked her up into his arms, spun her around the room, and laid her gently back on her bed. “Goodnight, my sweet princess.”

  She kissed his cheek and snuggled under her Tinkerbell sheets with Mr. Bear. “Love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you more.” He walked out and gently shut Lilly’s door and trudged to his room. His empty bed taunted him. Stripping naked, he poured himself into his bed and prayed for no dreams. He dreamt of Grace.

  Chapter 16

  The week, filled with continued renovations and additions, sped by. Grace and Phoebe showed up every day to find more and more things fixed and complete. The furniture shipment arrived, and they spent the majority of their time organizing and decorating their own bedrooms. Dominick had ignored her. Grace reminded herself she didn’t care. It’s what she wanted in the first place.

  Needing a break from the monotonous sounds of saws and nail guns, she spent an hour gathering what was left of the summer wildflowers from the pasture behind the house. On her way back to the house, she caught sight of the man she’d been trying hard to avoid. Her fear of being approached needless as he barely glanced in her direction. Too afraid to examine her loneliness over his reaction, she cloistered herself in her room and spent the entire afternoon pressing the purple and yellow flowers. After they were done, she’d display them in wooden frames she had already made from wood from the old corral behind the house. Soon they’d adorn the blue walls of her sanctuary.

  Finished, she hung white curtains embroidered with a delicate pattern blooming with cornflowers and sunflowers. The late June breeze, whispering through the open windows, gently played with the curtains. Sinking onto the soft white comforter embroidered with the same cornflower and sunflower design of the curtains, she hugged a pillow covered with a matching sham to her chest, a familiar loneliness crept around her middle and squeezed.

  She risked an analysis of her life. She still owned a cat that wouldn’t care if she bit the dust, she still owned a used Buick LeSabre that had been temporarily replaced by a dilapidated, rusty pickup truck, and she still owned this house. What have I gained? Nothing. Husband, father, trust, hope, and the ability to emotionally give herself freely to another person were gone. Grace wept into her pillow. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep living her life in the red.

  ***

  “Can you believe it’s been a month since we bought this old thing?” Phoebe lugged her suitcase up the front steps of the porch.

  Grace hefted her suitcase up the stairs after Phoebe. “I can’t. This is crazy.”

  Work still progressed on the house, but their bedrooms were finished and decorated, and the kitchen, completed yesterday evening, was ready to prepare meals in. The girls did a happy dance outside the threshold of the resurrected house and grinned at each other. Even though the noise of power tools and hammers, and curses still filled the air, they were home.

  “I wish I had a hat.” Phoebe twirled around her suitcase.

  “Why?�
��

  “I now have a place to hang it.”

  Grace chuckled and motioned for Phoebe to go through the door first. Phoebe grinned and wheeled her suitcase into the house. After several trips, they and their possessions were securely settled in their new digs.

  Phoebe perched herself on her soft pink comforter. “This is the best day ever. I can’t wait to put my clothes away and set up my pictures.”

  “Pheebs?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When do you think it is okay for me to … you know … start … dating again?” Grace picked at a minute speck of nothing on the pillow she clutched to her chest.

  “It all depends on you, what you want. You deserve to be happy, and you deserve a good man.”

  “I’m not sure. Kevin made me feel undesirable. He never touched me.” Grace fought the tears. “I don’t think I can trust anybody ever again. I gave Kevin all of me, and what did he do to it? He ripped my heart out, stomped on it, and then burned it. I can’t do that again. Put my heart out there.”

  “But part of you wants to, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. I’m terrified. Scared to trust and scared I might have ruined it with the only man I could’ve trusted.”

  “Dominick?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. What am I supposed to do with him?”

  “I have a strange feeling Dominick is a patient man. He looks like a man not afraid of waiting and a man worth waiting for.” Phoebe peered at her sister. “And how did you ruin your chances with him?”

  “At Lauren and Bruce’s wedding, he promised to leave me alone if I wanted nothing to do with him …” She stared out the window.

  “And?”

  “I told him I didn’t want him.” She burst into tears. “Tell me what I need to do to make this right with him.”

  Phoebe pulled her into a hug. “How do you feel about him? Tell the truth.”

  “I honestly don’t know. I have all these feelings fighting inside me. One minute I want him. The next minute I’m so frustrated with myself I’d like to throw him out a window. Sometimes I love him.” Her breathing hitched.