“Hello,” she snapped in her best go-to-Hades tone.
“What are you wearing to night?” The man was truly tone deaf.
She bit down on her lip. She’d sworn to talk to him to night, but why? Actions spoke louder than words, right? He’d left her, and other than to come back for a quick bumping of uglies, he hadn’t given her one sign that she meant a damn thing to him.
“What am I wearing? Let me check? Oh, it’s a chastity belt,” she answered. “I’m too tired to talk.”
“Too tired?”
He sounded hurt, but she didn’t care. Okay, that was a lie; she still cared, but one more glass of Merlot should take care of that problem. Who had she been to question her mother’s quick-fix methods? They were working. That fuzzy pain in her chest had dulled. She might try staying in bed tomorrow, too. She set her empty glass down and reached for the bottle.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Better than fine. I’m great!” She took a big swig of wine, this one out of the bottle. “So I’ll see ya later. Wait. I have a better idea. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And I’ll call you next time.” She paused for emphasis. “Or not. But you would understand that, wouldn’t you?” She hung up and downed another gulp of wine.
The phone rang quickly afterward, but she ignored it and went in search of a pillow to leak on. As she stepped into her bedroom, she mentally imagined a big road sign standing beside her bed.
Welcome to Painsville, it read. Where people go when love’s one-sided.
So much for her mother’s Merlot fix.
At seven the next morning, Melissa called to remind Sue she had a signing Wednesday evening at a bookstore across town. Sue promptly reminded Melissa of the time difference between Texas and New Jersey and hung up.
At eight, Sue’s mother called to remind her that they were supposed to get together at her grandparents that evening for an Elvis-meets-the-parents night. Sue reminded her mother that she had never forgotten an appointment, didn’t need reminding, and promptly hung up.
At eight fifteen, her grandmother called to remind her that she was supposed to be respectful to her mother and never hang up on her. Sue reminded her grandmother that Peggy Finley was too old to be tattling. This time her hangup was a little less abrupt.
At nine, her grandfather called to remind her that both her mother and grandmother were a little nutty but that they loved her. Sue reminded her grandfather that she knew the whole fricking family was a few fries short of a Happy Meal, and if he was smart he’d go ahead and make reservations at the nut house for the entire crew.
“But I still love everyone.” Sue hiccupped and hung up. Then she unplugged her phone. This was her official veg day, and she didn’t need any more guilt-inducing interruptions.
And that’s when her cell phone rang.
She snatched it up, checked to see who was calling. This was the last straw. It was Jason.
She slung the phone across the room and went to find another pillow to leak on.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
That evening, Sue pulled up at her grandparents’ house at the same time as a pale blue Cadillac sporting a bumper sticker that read, Elvis has left the building. Sue had known that sooner or later she’d have to face Bill in a one on one, but later would have been really nice. Later, as in maybe in twenty or thirty years. Moaning, she dropped her head on the steering wheel.
Be nice. Her mom’s plea from the earlier phone call still echoed inside Sue’s head.
Stepping out of her car, she gave the man a quick inventory, trying to figure out what her mother saw in him. While his clothes didn’t scream retro—navy slacks and a short-sleeved, white silk shirt—his haircut and Elvis mannerisms did. He had I’m the King written all over him. From the cocky shifting of his shoulders to the loose tilt of the head and the quivering thing he did with his lips. And don’t forget the shoes. Blue suede. Her grandfather was either going to croak or Bill would be pinned to velvet like a roach before the night was done.
As Sue got closer, the man shuffled his blue suedes, wiped his palms on his pants, and then pocketed his hands. Sue’s steps faltered. As a fidgeter, she recognized a fellow fidgetee. Obviously this Elvis had a case of the nerves. Not very Elvis-like, Sue thought, and continued forward.
Be nice.
“You made it.” Sue waved. She met her mother’s beau beside his car and feigned a smile.
In all honesty, she had nothing to smile about. Her heart ached so much that she’d considered going to the doctor and asking if it could be removed. The hangover she’d had this morning still had its claws in her. She’d spent a good ten minutes before she came here apologizing to her ficus plant for her behavior last night. Oh, yeah, she’d given her plant an earful. She’d cried and whined about how unfair it was her father had died; how cruel it was that Collin had lied to her all those years. And how stupid she’d been to trust her heart to Jason. How many times had Sue herself been on the receiving end of one of her mother’s Merlot quick-fixes? No one deserved that. Not even a plant.
“Hi.” The man ducked his head a little, and his pale green eyes met hers. “I…I brought fruit.” He motioned to the caddie’s open door. “A basket for you and your grandparents.”
Sue nodded. “That’s nice.”
“I bought your grandfather…a book on bugs. Your mom said he likes roaches.” Elvis appeared nervous.
“Yeah,” Sue said.
The guy’s obvious vulnerability was softening her opinion of him. His attempt to impress her grandparents gave him another point. But considering she used the one to a hundred scale and he had only two points, the man had a heck of a lot of impressing left to do. And she still wasn’t going to Graceland.
Sue met Elvis’s nervous gaze. “My grandpa has a thing about roaches. He always wanted to be an entomologist.”
“Yeah, your mom explained it.” He shifted again, pulled his hands from his pockets, and dried them on his pants. When his eyes met hers, Sue knew he had something to say, and she’d bet a monkey’s uncle that she wasn’t going to like it. “I love your mom,” he blurted.
Sue took a small step back, not wanting to have this conversation, but dad-blast it if she didn’t admire the man for being blunt. Three points. But there were quite a few to go still.
“I just don’t think you guys should rush into anything.”
The man nodded. “We’re not. I asked her to marry me, but we’re going to give it some time. I just…wanted to get my intentions out in the open.”
Sue felt better—not about Elvis’s intentions, but about her mother not rushing things. “Good.”
Elvis glanced up at the house.
Sue took pity on him. “They’re not that bad,” she said.
“Oh, I don’t imagine they are. But I haven’t been brought home to meet the parents in forty years.”
Sue ducked down to see the huge fruit baskets in the front seat of his car. “Look at the bright side. If they like you, they’ll show you mom’s naked baby pictures.”
Elvis tilted his head back, a lock of dark hair falling onto his brow and making him look even more like the King. “Your mom said I ‘d like you.”
“I wouldn’t believe everything Peggy says.” Sue motioned to his car. “You need some help with those baskets?”
“Yes, thank you.” He reached in and pulled out a bag and some yellow roses. His gaze met hers. “I brought your grandma flowers. Oh, yeah, I also got you a book.” He pulled out a hardcover and handed it to her.
“101 Ways to Murder Someone?” Sue’s smile was genuine now. “Wow, I’ve been looking for this! Thank you!” Four points…no, the book was worth about ten. It had been out of print for years. Elvis was up to thirteen points! Who would have guessed?
He smiled back, just as genuine. “I figured you would like it. Your mom gave me your books to read. I…stayed up all the nights last week finishing them.”
Okay, that got him at least another twenty points. But she still wa
sn’t going to Graceland. Nope. No Graceland.
“Thanks.” She looked back at the book he’d given her. “I’ve really been wanting this.”
“Good.” Elvis pulled out one of the fruit baskets and handed it to her. He and Sue moved toward the door, their arms loaded with fruit, flowers, and books on roaches and murder.
Sue sat down her basket to ring the doorbell. A dog barked: Goliath. From the corner of her eye, Sue saw Elvis lower the basket to cover his crotch. Smart man, she thought and used her own basket similarly. Real smart. Another ten points. The man shuffled his feet again and shot her a desperate look.
And then, somehow, it hit her. She realized why Bill was here, why he was braving her grandparents and the dog and everything that might befall him inside this house: He loved her mother and wasn’t afraid to admit it and act upon it. The fruit-selling, Elvis-impersonating Bill Delaney was just crazy enough to fit into this family.
Too bad Jason hadn’t been.
Bill cleared his throat. “Any last minute bits of wisdom you might throw my way?”
Sue thought. “Yeah. Never eat the casserole.” Goliath barked again. “And Bill?”
“Yeah?” he asked, his gaze locked on the door.
“Welcome to the family.”
Jason paced Sue’s living room. Where the hell was she, and why hadn’t she answered even one of his calls? He’d left over a dozen messages. He needed to see her. Now. Whatever he’d done, he could fix it.
You can’t fix this. A voice from his past played in his head. He’d been nine and only on his second foster home. The caseworker had shown up to collect him from school that day. He’d begged her to let him talk to the foster parents before they sent him away. Surely if they knew it was their own son who’d started the fight they would understand, but the caseworker already had Jason’s things in her trunk.
Can’t fix this. The voice came again in his head. But damn it, he wasn’t nine anymore! Sue and he hadn’t even fought. He didn’t understand.
He didn’t understand women, but he did understand pain. He felt plenty of it now. Pain always put him in the worst of moods. This morning he’d yelled at Chase and called their sergeant a presumptuous overweight toad. Oh, he’d called the guy that before, but never to the man’s face and definitely not in front of the man’s wife. Then Jason had snapped at Maggie when she called to remind him about bringing Sue by to autograph books. At lunch he’d scowled at a waitress because his French fries were lukewarm. He’d wanted them hot, and preferably hot off Sue’s plate. He hadn’t wanted to be eating alone, but she wouldn’t answer his calls so he could ask her to lunch.
He dropped onto Sue’s sofa and heard air seep out the bullet hole, giving a sigh of frustration.
As bad a mood as he’d suffered during the morning hours, after lunch he’d quit holding back and really gave the world hell. He’d had another run-in with Chase, one with Danny, and even managed to piss off the teenage attendant at Starbucks. Then Mrs. Roberts called complaining that her limo driver had doubled his price on her. In a pissed off tone, he promised he’d fix it, and then needing someone else to yell at, he took fifteen minutes to drive over to the limo service and almost came to blows with the idiot driver who’d tried to claim the woman had given him a fifty dollar tip. The woman might be nuttier than peanut brittle, but he recognized a lowlife piece of shit when he saw one.
Jason didn’t leave until the boss personally gave the driver his walking papers and he got the man’s information just in case he could talk the old woman into pressing charges.
And his mood hadn’t gotten any better when he arrived at Sue’s house and she wasn’t home.
The sound of a key turning in the lock alerted him, and he jumped up just as Sue walked in. Seeing her brought a big aching chasm to his chest. He almost couldn’t speak, his chest hurt so much.
“Where have you been? Why aren’t you answering my calls?”
“What are you doing here?”
She knelt to pet Hitchcock and avoided his eyes. How the hell had they gotten back to the can’t-look-you-in-the-eye stage?
“What’s going on?” Jason raked a hand over his face.
Sue tilted her chin back. “I wouldn’t know. I’m pretty much clueless.” Then her blue gaze met his.
Okay, she was going to look at him. But this wasn’t the look a man wanted to get. It was the kind of look that provoked one to cover his family jewels.
“You’re mad.”
“Am I?” she asked.
Mama strolled out of the back room and did a figure-eight around his legs. Hitchcock hissed. Jason ignored both cats and kept his eyes on Sue. In addition to her pissed-off expression, she looked hurt, and tired…and wonderful. All he wanted to do was hold her.
“I guess you came for your cats, huh?” Her voice came out squeaky. “Well, I can’t stop you from taking them, but I just think since Mama and the kittens are used to being here that you should just leave them for now.” Then she blinked. “Oh, Hades, she’s your cat not mine. Not that you’d be heartbroken. You haven’t even named her.”
He moved toward Sue, but she took a step back. The reaction stung. “What the hell is happening here?” he demanded.
She didn’t answer, so he continued. “What is it you want? What do you need from me?”
She shook her head. “Funny you should ask that,” she said. “Because I’ve been meaning to ask you the same question. What is going on here? What do you need, Jason?”
“Me? I…I don’t need anything. I’m perfectly fine with the way things are. It’s you that’s acting as if…as if we’re over.” Just saying it sent pain vibrating through his body. How could they be over? They had just gotten started. He’d counted on Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and Easter. He’d even done a search last night to see if they made Godiva chocolate bunnies.
“If you don’t need anything, then why are you here? Why are you standing in my living room?”
“Because I have to find out what’s wrong. You obviously need something or you wouldn’t be acting like this.” Damn, it hurt to breathe. The thought of losing her stopped his heart. “So just tell me what it is and I’ll give it to you.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Jason.” Her chin shot up.
“What doesn’t work like that? Damn it, Sue, I don’t understand any of this. I saw you yesterday morning. We had sex. I thought I made you happy.” Fear pushed his frustration up a notch. “You came three times. What? You wanted four? I offered, didn’t I?”
She stared up at him, and he saw that unfocused look in her eyes. The same freaking look that had been scaring him for over a week.
“What else could I want from you but sex?” she murmured. She pressed her palms into her eye sockets and shook her head. The next words came out muffled, but he heard them. “I should have walked when I discovered you didn’t name your cat. Jeepers! You didn’t even know its sex. When will I learn?”
“What?” he bellowed. “You’ve been going on about this forever. What is the big freaking deal about me not naming my cat or knowing her sex?” He tried to catch his breath but instead blurted another obvious statement. “This isn’t about my cat! It’s about us.”
“Go home, Jason,” Sue replied.
“Are you mad because I didn’t stay Sunday night?”
He saw tears form in her eyes. “Go home,” Sue repeated, but there wasn’t any conviction in her tone. Sure, her words were clear, but her expression said something different. Sad thing was, he was no damn good at reading expressions.
Can’t fix this.
But he had to try.
“Is that it?” he asked. “You were afraid? All you had to do was say so and I’d never have left.” He would fix this, damn it!
She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not afraid.”
While he believed her, he could tell from the look in her eyes that he was closer to getting to the truth. And then the truth stared him in the face.
“You want me to m
ove in. Is that it?”
“No. I will not just…just live with you until I go stale.”
“Just live with me? ‘Just,’ as in…you want more? Is that it? What do you need, Sue?” His heart folded over on itself when she didn’t answer him. “What is it you want? A ring on your finger? A piece of paper to frame on the wall?” He slapped his hand on a nearby chair. “Why do people do that when…when all it takes is another piece of paper to say the first paper meant nothing? People can walk out of your life just like that, Sue. It’s just paper.”
He paced once across the room and then came back to stand in front of the chair and her. “A freaking birth certificate or a marriage license doesn’t mean crap.” He hit the chair with his palm again. “When people decide it’s over, they walk away and they don’t come back. No matter how much you want them to, they just don’t.”
She turned and faced the wall. Away from him. He was losing her. Losing his right arm. He felt his entire body shake.
The words formed in his head and he couldn’t believe it. He was a one-day-at-a-time kind of guy, but she was his right arm. Swallowing, he tossed away everything he’d thought to be true about himself.
“But if that’s what you need…” He walked over, took her by the elbow, and forced her to look at him. “If that’s what you need, let’s do it. We’ll find a judge and we’ll get that damn piece of paper.”
She jerked away. Shock and tears covered her face. “No!”
He looked at her and couldn’t breathe again. “What? You don’t think I’m serious? I’m dead serious. Let’s get that piece of paper. You can frame it. Hang it on the wall. Hell, I’ll hang it for you.”
Her tears were flowing faster now, and her nose was running, getting red. He tried to reach for her, to hold her, to let her leak all over his shirt, but she shook her head. “You can’t even name your cat.” Then, pivoting on her heel, she stormed down the hall. “Leave!” she yelled over her shoulder, and she slammed her bedroom door.
As he left Sue’s house, Jason’s heart lay in a mangled mess. Words replayed in his head. You can’t fix this.
Divorced, Desperate And Dating Page 32
