by ANDREA SMITH
“You know that cup of eggnog you asked Taz to get for me?”
She nodded.
I told her what he’d brought to me and what he’d called it.
“Oh, that’s fucking wrong on so many levels,” she hissed. “Come on. Let’s get you a glass of wine.”
“No wine. I need something stronger.”
She followed me into the kitchen where I put some ice in a glass and found the decanter of tequila. I poured a healthy couple of shots into the glass.
“You aren’t going to drink that straight, are you?”
“Of course not,” I replied, tossing a cut lemon wedge into it. “There.”
I chugged it down quickly, then took the lemon wedge out and sucked whatever tequila it had soaked up out of it.
“Slow down; I’ve seen tequila make you crazy.”
“I’m hoping it makes me homicidal tonight,” I retorted, pouring another shot over the ice.
“Seriously, I mean it.”
“Okay, okay.”
I went to the fridge and got a pitcher of orange juice out, pouring a small amount into the glass.
“Happy? Now it’s a Tequila Sunrise instead of just straight tequila.”
“Come on then,” she said. “I met a couple of young cadets from Quantico. Your mom introduced me to them. I guess they were in some class on surveillance that Slate was teaching this past month. They are hot.”
Darcy had me by the hand, leading me into the family room towards the back of the house.
“Right there,” she nodded towards the fireplace where a couple of guys were standing, dressed casually in Dockers and sweaters.
“Am I right?”
She didn’t give me a chance to answer, dragging me over to where they were conversing.
“Darin, Patrick, this is Lindsey. Slate’s her stepdad,” Darcy said, practically pushing me into them. How many eggnogs had she had?
“Hi, Lindsey, I’m Darin Murphy,” the dark-haired one with amber eyes said, holding his hand out to shake mine.
“Pleased to meet you, Darin,” I replied, shaking his strong, firm hand. He was definitely hot in a dark and dreamy sort of way.
“And that makes me Patrick Dunn,” the other one said.
Patrick was tall, slender and had a mass of dark blond tousled hair, along with big light blue, almost gray eyes. He bore a resemblance to the character Dr. Spencer Reid from the television show, “Criminal Minds.” I wondered if he watched the show.
“Merry Christmas, Patrick,” I said smiling at him.
“Has anyone ever told you—?”
“I know what you’re going to say,” he chuckled. “And yes, they have. I don’t see it, though.”
“Are you training to go into the BAU segment of the FBI?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “I have to finish my Master’s, though, and then on to my Doctorate. It’ll be a while.”
“Well, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of nut cases left to go around,” I said, laughing loudly.
I felt Darcy elbow me.
What?
“I’m sure you’re right,” Patrick replied, giving me a strange look. “What about you? Do you attend college with Darcy here?”
“Yes, I do. I’m working on my B.S. in Economics.”
“I see,” he replied, nodding.
He thinks I’m in a boring program of study. I can tell.
“Darin says that he’s going to be an undercover agent,” Darcy said, giving him one of her sexy little smiles.
Oh God, she wants him. I knew that look. Darin seemed to like her back. Great.
“Is that right?”
“Yes. It’s been my dream for a while. Your step-father’s kind of my role model, you could say. He’s great.”
“How old are you, Patrick?” I asked, not bothering to care how that sounded.
“I’m twenty-two,” he replied.
“Perfect,” I said. “Would you mind getting me another tequila sunrise from the wet bar downstairs?”
“Sure, no problem,” he replied, taking my now-empty glass.
Darcy was busy talking quietly to Darin…laughing at his jokes, and putting her hands on his arms and shoulders.
Yep, they were definitely doing the mating dance.
The alcohol seemed to be going straight to my head. I remembered then that I hadn’t eaten much all day, just nibbling here and there while helping Mom.
Speaking of which, I hadn’t seen either Mom or Slate since coming downstairs a half an hour before.
That thought had no sooner left my mind than I saw Slate come into the room, looking around. He saw me and motioned for me to come over.
I wondered if he knew I was working on getting drunk. I did my best to walk a straight line over to where he was standing.
“Got a minute, Lindsey? Your mother and I’d like to see you in our room for a few minutes.”
Hmmm?
“Sure,” I replied. “Darcy, would you tell Patrick that I’ll be right back?”
“Sure thing,” she said, still totally mesmerized by Darin.
I followed Slate down the hallway and around the corner to the master suite. Mom was sitting on the bed looking totally upset about something. She was dabbing her eyes with a tissue. She’d been crying and it appeared she’d been crying hard. Slate closed the door behind us.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“My father—your granddaddy suffered a massive heart attack late this afternoon. He passed away about an hour ago. They were at the airport, getting ready to fly into Dulles to surprise us for Christmas. Mom said it happened just like that. One minute they were preparing to board the plane, the next minute, Daddy was gone.”
She began to weep loudly. I ran over to her, putting my arms around her.
“I can’t believe it,” I sobbed. “I can’t believe Granddaddy is gone…that we’ll never see him again.”
Within moments, we were both sobbing and trying to console each other. I knew Slate was out of his element with emotional things like this.
I didn’t know a lot about Slate’s background, but I knew that his father hadn’t been a man that had earned his respect. My mother had shared that much with me.
“What about Grandma?” I finally thought to ask. “Who’s with her?”
Mom dabbed her eyes again, trying to stop the flow of tears.
“Oh, Mrs. Marshall their neighbor at the condo in Fort Myers came and picked her up at the airport and is staying with her. Daddy’s body has been released to a mortuary in Indianapolis. Mom can’t get a flight at the moment because of the holiday.”
“So, when?”
She can’t get another flight until the day after Christmas,” she sobbed. “Mom’s stuck in Fort Myers for the next two days with no family, virtually all by herself. This is so terrible.”
Slate could take no more. He was on his feet in an instant, hovering over Mom.
“Shh, baby,” he soothed. “You don’t worry about that. I’ll leave this minute and drive all night to get her and bring her here, okay? Taz will go with me.”
“Oh Eric,” she said, clutching him, “I want you here with Bryce for Christmas. Besides that, it’s at least a fourteen to sixteen hour drive down and back. By the time you got back, it’d almost be the 26th anyway.”
Her body was racked with sobs. I’m sure Slate felt helpless, something that didn’t come easily for him.
I suddenly had a thought.
“Mom,” I said, “Fort Myers is close to Naples, right?”
“Yes,” she said, still sobbing.
“Maybe I can help. Slate, I need your phone to call someone.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. I dialed Kyzer’s cell phone number, praying that he’d answer. It was Christmas Eve, and he might be out at some holiday event or party. It was a long shot, but it was all I had.
My heart lurched when he answered. I knew he wouldn’t recognize Slate’s
number, so I identified myself.
“Kyzer,” I said in a voice that was full of hope. “I really need your help. We’ve had a terrible loss in the family. Is your family’s plane and pilot available?”
“Lindsey,” he said, his voice now full of concern, “what happened? Tell me what you need.”
chapter 13
Once again I found myself alone with Taz. This time, it was in my mother’s Mercedes. He was driving. We initially rode in silence to the private airport where my grandmother was due in on the private jet that Kyzer’s family had dispatched at my request. I was amazed at how responsive Kyzer was to my request for this major favor.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss, Lindsey,” he’d consoled over the phone. “Please hang tight. I’ll call you back in a few minutes with the details, okay?”
“Thanks, Kyzer,” I’d replied, holding back my tears. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you for this.”
“There’s no need. You’re a very special friend and this is what friends do for each other.”
True to his word, Kyzer had phoned back fifteen minutes later and provided the details of where the plane would be waiting. Their pilot had filed a flight plan they were clear to take off as soon as someone could get Grandma there.
Slate had then phoned Mrs. Marshall who assured him she would get Grandma delivered safely to the small, private airport.
Slate hadn’t wanted to leave Mom. She wasn’t in good shape emotionally. He’d asked Taz to drive me to the airfield to pick up my grandmother. I was extremely uncomfortable being with him on this particular mission. I wasn’t about to break the silence.
“So,” he finally said, “are you doing alright, Lindsey?”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
The truth was, I couldn’t imagine never seeing Granddaddy again. I was worried that Grandma wouldn’t be able to go on without him. He was her everything.
“Somehow, I don’t believe that,” he replied.
“I mean that I’m as well as can be expected. I just lost my grandfather; the only grandfather that I’ve ever known. I’m worried about my grandmother. She was so dependent on him for everything. I can’t fathom her being able to cope without him.”
“I’m really sorry, baby,” he said softly.
“No. Don’t say that,” I said, not masking my irritability whatsoever. “I don’t need you trying to be nice or civil to me. I particularly do not want you to call me ‘baby’.”
“Lindsey, please,” he started, “I want to explain about what happened a few weeks back.”
What was there to say? He’d made it perfectly clear to me that he ‘didn’t do virgins.’ My God, he acted as if my being a virgin had made me damaged goods. How screwed up was that?
“Taz, as far as I’m concerned, you said it all that night. There’s nothing more that you could possibly say that would make your treatment of me any less deplorable. I can’t deal with anything other than getting my grandmother and helping her and my mom get through this, got it?”
The rest of the trip was in silence. Taz had respected my need to focus on comforting my grandmother and my mother.
Once we picked her up, I consoled her the whole way back. She seemed to have morphed into a solemn state of shock. Not weeping or wailing; she was eerily quiet and reserved.
Taz helped her out of the car and up to the house. My grandmother seemed to respond to a male presence. It somehow gave her a sense of security. I could see that. I got her suitcase out of the trunk and headed to the front door.
Slate was at the door, taking it from me. I could hear Mom in the kitchen, sobbing together with Grandma.
Everyone had departed. I looked at my watch it was after 1:00 in the morning. I suddenly realized it was Christmas. I glanced over at the Christmas tree that we had all decorated the day before. There was nothing underneath it. Bryce would be up bright and early, expecting Santa to have made a drop.
Taz was getting ready to head out. He said something to Slate about seeing him in a few days.
“Taz,” I said, getting his attention, “would you mind helping me carry the Christmas presents down and placing them under the tree for Bryce?”
“Shit,” Slate said, “I totally forgot about that. I can handle that, Lindsey.”
“We’ve got it,” Taz spoke up, following me up the stairs to my room where they were stashed.
It took several trips, but Taz and I managed to get them all downstairs and arranged underneath the tree. It was just the two of us in the living room now. Slate had joined my mother and grandmother in the kitchen.
“Thanks,” I sighed, as we finished and he stood to put his jacket on. I was wiped out. I was worn out…totally exhausted. He sensed it.
Before I could object, he was there pulling me into his strong arms, his long fingers smoothing my hair. He just held me, and rocked me back and forth. He comforted me and I didn’t resist it. I blinked tears back as I buried my face against his chest.
I felt his lips brush against the top of my head, softly kissing my hair; whispering to me that everything would be alright. I tilted my head up to face him. He lowered his face to mine. His lips captured mine in a soft, gentle kiss. And then he was gone. I didn’t know when I would see him again, and that hurt.
chapter 14
I lay awake in my bed upstairs. I kept looking at the clock, wondering when blessed sleep would finally come.
The first time I glanced over at it, the digits read 2:09 a.m. That’s when I could hear Mom and Slate making love in their room below mine. I suppose it was a comforting thing, more than anything else. Mom needed to feel alive and Slate certainly made her feel that.
Grandma had taken one of her ‘nerve’ pills and was sleeping soundly in the other bedroom upstairs. She was all cried out for the moment. Mom was all cried out as well. She’d been comforted by Slate. Grandma had been comforted by all of us. I was lacking in comfort at the moment.
I glanced over at the clock again: 2:48 a.m.
Fuck this.
I got out of bed and quietly slipped into a pair of jeans and a sweater. I hadn’t even bothered to wash my make-up off earlier. That was something I did religiously, but not tonight. I’d simply collapsed into bed in my underwear once it was clear everyone was crashing.
I ran my fingers through my hair and slipped on a pair of side-zippered boots. I slipped quietly down the carpeted stairs, thankful that the set of Mom’s car keys Taz had tossed to me earlier were still in my purse. I grabbed my bag and headed out into the pre-dawn hours of Christmas morning.
I started my mother’s car and backed out of the driveway. I knew exactly where I was going and what type of comforting I needed.
As I pulled my mother’s Mercedes up in front of Taz’s place, the reality of what I was doing sunk in.
Suddenly, all the resolve along with the sprinkle of courage I’d mustered upon setting out on this twenty minute drive suddenly dissipated.
Holy crap.
What if he totally rejected me once again? Could I handle double rejection from the same guy? Worse yet, what if he wasn’t alone? Oh God, I hadn’t even considered that before I set out on this pathetic quest for comfort.
I reiterated in my mind that comfort was really all I wanted from Taz at the moment. Those strong, warm arms wrapped around me at the house before he left had been soothing, comforting and, for some odd reason, felt caring.
I gathered my courage once again, and walked up the steps to his front porch. His apartment was dark with the exception of a dim light from a lamp further back in the apartment. It was probably in his room. Was he up?
I rang the bell and heard it chime from within. I sucked in the cold, December air as I waited to see what reaction my middle of the night visit would evoke. From somewhere inside, a light switch was hit, illuminating his porch light.
God, I felt like I was standing under a spot light looking fairly pathetic at this point. I heard the
lock on his front door click, and the door was pulled open.
“Lindsey? What the hell?”
He pushed open the storm door, holding it ajar so that I could step inside into the warmth of his apartment. I noticed he was wearing a pair of grey sweat pants with a drawstring and a tight, black tee. His PJ bottoms hung low on his hips, his T-shirt clinging to his muscular chest and firm belly.
“Are you okay?”
“No, Taz,” I whispered, coming to stand next to him in the entry hall, “I feel so sad right now and so alone. I’m sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night. I don’t want to be alone. Will you hold me?”
I saw his face, his beautiful face soften as he understood. He shut the door behind me and took me once again into his strong arms.
“Of course I will, baby girl,” he murmured, pulling me tightly against him. “Come here.”
He helped me off with my jacket, wrapping his arm around me as he walked me into the living room. He switched on a lamp next to the sofa and pulled me down next to him on the sofa. His eyes were searching mine. He was searching for a clue as to why I was here. It was difficult for me to understand why I was. How could I possibly explain it?
“Can I get you something, a glass of wine maybe?”
I knew it would at least nudge me in the right direction. Maybe it would even give me the boost of courage I needed in order to tell him what I really wanted.
I nodded.
“Okay,” he said, patting my knee consolingly. “Sit tight.”
He returned moments later with a glass of white wine, offering it to me. I took the glass and downed the contents, setting the empty glass down on the coffee table.
I turned to look at him. I swallowed nervously my hands folded neatly in my lap. He was watching me expectantly.
“Taz, with the loss of my father, for all intents and purposes, and now with the loss of my grandfather, it occurred to me that I have lost every single man that cared about me, that loved me. I have no one.”
“That’s not true,” he interrupted. “You have your mother. You have Slate.”
“It’s not the same. My mother’s in need of comfort. Slate’s there for her. I had no one to comfort me when Daddy did what he did. Slate cares about me because he cares about my mother. It’s not the same thing. I feel so much loss.”
