Shore to Please

by Annette Mardis

  “Is this poker or The Dating Game?” he cracked.

  “Either one’s a gamble,” Kelsey quipped.

  Flipper grinned, but it disappeared in a hurry when he looked at his cards again.

  “This hand sucks a big hairy…whatever. I fold.” He tossed them onto his dinette table in disgust. “Anybody want a beer while I’m up?” Five hands shot into the air.

  Kelsey frowned and slapped her cards down atop Flipper’s. “I’m out, too. I’ll help you carry the drinks.”

  In the relative quiet of the kitchen, the trainer handed Kelsey a couple of cans from his fridge. He snared a few more and nudged the door closed, but his friend blocked his path as he attempted to step away.

  “I can’t blame you for being less than thrilled by what Jo said to Tara. I mean, you’re a major-league stud. You certainly don’t need any help getting dates. You can have any woman you want. We all know that. You’re a legend.”

  Flipper rolled his eyes. “Okay. Out with it.”

  “What?” Kelsey’s expression shouted innocence personified, but he wasn’t fooled.

  “I know when you butter me up like an ear of sweet corn that you have something to say I won’t want to hear. So go ahead. Get it off your most attractive chest.”

  “Okay, fine. I think you and Tara would make a cute couple. Striking, even.”

  Flipper nearly dropped the cans he held. “Are you kidding? A butcher and a vegetarian would have a better chance of getting along than we would.”

  “Maybe you could agree to disagree on the whole marine mammal thing.”

  “That might work if I sold insurance for a living. Why are you of all people pushing the issue? Her organization would love to see your job disappear along with mine.”

  “Normally, I wouldn’t want to breathe the same air as a person with Tara’s biases. But there’s something about her that’s different from the rest of them. I really think we can make her understand why our mission sets us apart from some other commercial aquariums. Besides that, I haven’t seen you this intrigued by a woman in a very long time. Not since”—she bit her lip—“you know.”

  “Go ahead and say it, Kels. Not since you.”

  “Yes, well, some things are better left in the past, right? I want you to be happy, just like Jo and I are. Like Evan and Dani. Hell, if Monica can find true love with a great guy like Cosby after all the missteps in her past, there’s no reason you shouldn’t get your happily ever after, too.”

  “That kind of stuff only happens in romance novels and chick flicks. And to other people,” he hastened to add when Kelsey wrinkled her face at him. “I’m footloose and fancy free, baby. Why would I tie myself down when there’s a veritable smorgasbord of delectable women out there for the taking, drama free? After all”—he struck a Superman-style pose—“I am Flipper O’Riley, Dolphin Trainer! Enter my orbit and try to escape my gravitational pull.” He made smooching noises at her, and Kelsey jabbed him with her elbow.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We both know you’re not the player you want everybody to believe you are. What I don’t get is why such an intelligent, dependable, tenderhearted guy would foster such a shallow, cavalier image.”

  Just then, Danielle “Dani” Davidson, an education specialist at the aquarium, burst into the kitchen.

  “Hey, what’s taking you two so…” She stopped short as if sensing she’d interrupted something serious. “Oops, sorry, but I couldn’t stand another second of their theatrics about dying of thirst. I’ll just tell them to keep their undies on.”

  Kelsey’s voice halted Dani’s retreat. “Hang on a second. Please tell this hardhead how wonderful it is when you find the love of your life.”

  “I’m hoping he’ll discover that for himself, and soon.”

  “Oh, cripes,” Flipper moaned. “Not you, too, Dani. What is it with you people? Love has clearly robbed you all of your common sense.”

  “I’m not saying being with Tara wouldn’t be a monumental challenge. But anything worth having is worth fighting for. Right, Kelsey?”

  “Amen, sister.”

  Evan Sanders, GSA’s chief photographer and videographer, stuck his head in the kitchen a moment later.

  “Did someone move the party in here or something?” he asked. “You’ve got some parched poker players out there getting very impatient for their liquid encouragement.”

  Dani slung her arm around her fiancé’s shoulders. “Evan, tell this stubborn—”

  “Enough!” Flipper ordered. “We came here to play cards, not root around in my love life.”

  Evan smirked. “Flirting with waitresses at Bikini Barb’s does not constitute a love life.”

  “Ouch. If I wasn’t holding these beers, I’d be pulling a knife out of my back right now.”

  “Always glad to be of service, good buddy.” Evan clapped his best friend between his shoulder blades, almost making him drop the ice-cold cans. “Now hurry back to the table, Dani, would you please? You’re my lucky charm, and I need all the help I can get with Jo the card shark sniffing blood in the water.”

  Dani rose to her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across Evan’s lips. “Stop chumming, sweetie, and you won’t get bit.”

  “Tell Monica to stop threatening to flash us and maybe I’ll be able to concentrate.”

  “Nobody wants to see that, except Cosby.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Evan agreed. “Been there, done that, don’t ever want to go there again. But you know Monica. She still likes having all eyes on her.”

  Flipper perked up. “If there’s the potential for bare boobs out there, especially Monica’s twin towers, why am I still in here?” He grinned when all three of them rolled their eyes. “What?”

  “You just proved my earlier point,” Kelsey chided. “It’s debatable whether it was cute in your twenties. But in your mid-thirties? Not so much.”

  He winked at her. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re lucky I have my hands full or I’d show you, right upside your thick skull.”

  “Promises, promises. Baby, don’t do that unless you intend to use it,” he advised when she stuck out her tongue.

  “You’re impossible.” She stomped back to the table.

  Evan shook his head. “Why do you bait her like that?”

  “Because it’s fun,” Flipper replied. “And because I can.”

  Dani grabbed a soda and marched from the room next, mumbling something about Peter Pan complexes.

  *

  About thirty minutes later, after Kelsey had folded yet again, she and Dani were in the kitchen refilling the bowls of pretzels, chips, and mixed nuts. As they made small talk, the subject of Dani’s houseguest came up.

  “What’s your mother doing tonight?” Kelsey inquired.

  “Watching a movie on the Hallmark Channel. Am I a bad person because I couldn’t wait to get out of the condo and have a little time away from her?”

  Kelsey laughed. “Not at all. Too much togetherness can be, well, too much. How long has she been here?”

  “This is the third week. I’m beginning to wonder if she’s ever going home.”

  “Overstaying her welcome is she?”

  “Yes and no. I told her she can have the spare bedroom for as long as she wants. I mean, she’s my mother. What else was I supposed to say? Especially after the way I badgered her to come down for a visit. But I’d hoped she’d be missing my father by now. Unfortunately, absence hasn’t appeared to make her heart grow fonder. She’s having way too much fun here without him.”

  “How long have they been married?”

  “More than thirty years. I didn’t realize until I went home to Missouri after my grandmother’s stroke that my parents haven’t been getting along for a while. My mother assures me they don’t plan to divorce. And while I certainly don’t want them to split up, I have to wonder why they’d stay together when the best they do is tolerate each other most days.”

  “What
about couples counseling? It did my mom and dad a world of good when they were having problems a few years ago.”

  “I’ve suggested it, but they’re stubborn about stuff like that. The only person they’d even consider speaking to about such a personal matter is their church pastor, and my mother said she’d be too embarrassed to bring it up. They don’t want anyone to know their marriage is on rocky ground.”

  “That puts you in a touchy situation, doesn’t it?”

  “It certainly does,” Dani confirmed. “I’m trying to be supportive, but at some point my mom needs to face reality. The only way she could afford to stay here permanently without my father would be if she lives with me and Evan, and I can’t begin to imagine that. I love my mother, but…”

  “She seriously cramps your style.”

  Dani sighed. “Does she ever. She disapproves of premarital sex and wasn’t thrilled when I moved into Evan’s condo. She hasn’t said anything more about it since she arrived, but I feel so guilty—how ridiculous is that at my age?—that I’ve kept him at arm’s length while she’s been with us.”

  “How’s Evan dealing with that?”

  “Luckily he’s been so busy working on that children’s picture book of aquarium animals that it hasn’t been as big an issue as it would’ve been otherwise. But while he hasn’t complained, he has reminded me a few times that we are engaged, I’m a grown woman, and I shouldn’t let my mother dictate my behavior. For so long I was the good girl who did whatever I could to please my parents. I don’t think they know quite what to make of the new me.”

  “I think it’s harder for daughters than it is for sons. It wouldn’t bother my brother to have sex while our parents were in the next bedroom, but I sure couldn’t do it.”

  Dani gave a wry smile. “Poor Evan. The other night he wanted to…you know, and I just kept hearing my mother’s voice inside my head. Talk about a mood killer! I know it frustrated him, because it sure left me cranky and…unsatisfied.”

  Kelsey nodded in understanding. “The first time my mom and dad visited after Jo and I rented a house together, I wouldn’t let her kiss me, hug me, hold my hand, nothing in front of them. They assured me they’d accepted my ‘alternate lifestyle,’ as they like to call it, but I could tell they weren’t entirely comfortable with it. Hell, they couldn’t even say the word lesbian.”

  “How did Jo react?”

  “Not well, which is an understatement. She came out years before we met and had long since gotten over being self-conscious about showing affection in front of straight people, not that she’s an exhibitionist or anything. She’s just comfortable in her own skin. She couldn’t, or wouldn’t, understand how I felt. We had a big fight, and she walked out and didn’t come back. I thought I’d lost her and was so miserable that after a few days my father went to the police station and told her to quit being so bullheaded.”

  “Wow, that was gutsy. And incredibly supportive. What a guy.”

  “He really is. I don’t know exactly what else was said, but Jo came back home that evening with a bouquet of flowers, apologized to me and my parents, and told me she never wanted to be apart like that again. And that’s when I realized she meant more to me than other people’s opinions.”

  “Good for you.”

  “There’s a lesson in there for you, too, Dani.”

  She furrowed her brow for a moment, and then a sly smile spread across her face.

  “You’re right. Maybe I’ll surprise Evan with a private party later tonight. My mother should be in bed by the time we get home.”

  Kelsey laughed. “That’s the spirit. Knock his socks off, girlfriend.”

  * * * *

  Jo winked at Kelsey and flashed a self-satisfied grin while raking in yet another pot.

  “Are you guys sure you’ve played poker before?” the detective taunted. “Because my ninety-year-old grandfather offers more competition than you do. Even my eight-year-old nephew could whoop all your asses without breaking a sweat.”

  “It’s not my fault,” Cosby protested. “Monica keeps distracting me.” He turned his head and planted a quick but firm kiss on her lips as she pressed her C cups against his back and tightened her hold on him.

  “She’s just trying to look at your cards, Cosby,” Evan warned. “Haven’t you learned by now never to trust a friendly woman at a poker game?”

  “Mind your own business,” Monica replied without heat. “And I’d keep an eye on your fiancée if I were you.”

  Dani bristled in mock indignation. “Stop spilling my secrets. I need to win back my wine spritzer and nachos money.”

  “When are you going to learn to drink beer or hard liquor like a real woman?” Jo demanded. “Those girly drinks you’ve become so fond of are fizzling your brain. Here.” She shoved the bottle of whiskey she’d brought toward Dani. “Take a sip of this and put some hair on your chest.”

  Kelsey snickered. “Since when do you like hairy chests, sweetie?”

  “You science types are so literal. But very sexy, too.” Jo squeezed Kelsey’s knee under the table.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, get a room,” Flipper snapped, his eyes shining with mischief. “And if you do, you have to let me watch.” Jo reached out and slugged his shoulder. “Ouch! Damn it, Barney Fife, that hurt.” She whacked him again, and he uttered another curse.

  “All right, people,” Evan admonished, “if you’re done with your comedy routine, I’m ready to take somebody’s money. Cosby, it’s your turn to deal.”

  Chapter 5

  Four hundred and a handful of miles away, in a shabby motel room on the outskirts of Atlanta, Steven Christianson slumped glumly in front of the fuzzy screen on the flickering TV, nursing a six-pack and a convenience store sausage dog slathered with mustard. He shoved his poor excuse for dinner in his mouth and mulled over his now-miserable life. Not so long ago, he’d lived in an overpriced condo in a trendy Orlando neighborhood with a gorgeous, accomplished woman who was too good for him. He’d been a rising star at work and a self-righteous man on a mission as co-leader of SWADS.

  Now here he sat, alone, homeless, disgraced, probably unemployed, especially if he didn’t get back to work soon, and hiding from a vengeful husband who’d vowed to teach Steven a lesson about taking what wasn’t his.

  Chase Childers harbored a jealous streak under normal circumstances, but he’d come unhinged when he’d discovered Jane was cheating on him. Remembering the violent scene at the Childers home that night sent a cold shiver down Steven’s spine, even separated as he was by time and distance. Will I ever feel safe again?

  When Jane had decided to leave her husband, Steven dropped by to help her pack while Chase was at the hotel where he worked as night manager. But he had come home earlier than expected, and all hell broke loose when he saw luggage in the foyer and his wife in another man’s arms. Chase had yanked them apart, pummeled Steven, dragged him outside, and left him moaning and bleeding on the front lawn.

  Jane tried to intervene, suffering a bloody nose and a black eye for her trouble. Then Chase shoved her out the door, tossed her bags out behind her, and threatened to kill her and her lover if they dared report him to the police. Steven didn’t know if any of the neighbors saw or heard the disturbance, but if they had, they’d kept it to themselves.

  Amid much grumbling from Jane, she and Steven checked into a budget motel in suburban Orlando. They each called their employer the next day to say they had to leave town for a family emergency and would be gone at least a week.

  “We can’t afford to answer questions about why we look like someone used us for punching bags or risk having our injuries reported to the cops,” she reasoned while convincing him to lie to his boss. “And it’s not safe for us to be anywhere Chase might expect to find us. He’s always acted like he owns me, and the thought of you and me together has to be eating away at him. I don’t want to be there when he explodes again.”

  “I knew he had a jealous streak, but I had no idea he was so con
trolling. How could I have missed that?” Steven meant that as a rhetorical question, but Jane, never one to pick up on nuances, answered anyway.

  “You were too busy trying to get in my pants, remember?”

  Their hiding place didn’t stay secret for long. Jane started shaking when she spotted her husband’s pickup in the pothole-riddled parking lot a day later.

  “I told you we shouldn’t have left our cars where anyone could see them from the street,” she whined. “And we should’ve ditched our cell phones so they couldn’t be tracked. Oh God, what are we going to do if he breaks in? He could shoot or stab us and be gone before the police even get here.”

  “So let’s call them right now,” Steven suggested.

  “Are you out of your mind? He vowed he’d kill us.”

  “Well shit, Jane, he might murder us anyway, so what’s the damn difference?”

  Her face drained of its color, and she shoved a chair under the doorknob, grabbed both of their phones, and ran into the bathroom. Steven heard her lock the door, leaving him to fend for himself.

  “What the hell, Jane? You’re hanging me out to dry?”

  “Somebody’s got to try and stop him if he breaks in.”

  Steven muttered a curse and picked up the room phone, but he slammed down the receiver when he couldn’t get a dial tone. He looked around for something to use as a weapon but found nothing. He paced the room for more than an hour, his nerves jumping, sneaking occasional glances out the window.

  Chase sat behind the wheel, watching, waiting.

  Jane hollered from the bathroom every five minutes, or so it seemed, demanding to know what her husband was doing. Each time, Steven fired back, “Get your ass out here and see for yourself.” Eventually, she stopped asking.

  Finally, Steven collapsed on the bed farthest from the window, resigned to whatever might happen next. At some point, he fell asleep, until Jane jostled him awake. Hands on hips, she glared at him as he blinked and tried to clear his muzzy mind.

  “Some protector you are,” she snapped. “He’s gone, no thanks to you.”