by Shyla Colt
“Ha. No, I’m with you on the walk. They always have cool things in the shops, and you just can’t leave without hitting up the chocolatier.”
“Where are you putting all this food?” I scan her fit frame, astounded by the amount she’s packing in. I like a girl who isn’t afraid to eat.
She shrugs. “In my hollow leg according to my dad.”
“I think he’s right.” I take a sip of my beer and study her on the sly.
“This was exactly what I needed today. Thank you.”
“You feeling better?” I ask, careful to keep my tone light.
She takes a healthy bite of the brownie and frowns. “For the most part.”
“There’s something still bothering you, though.” I gently nudge her toward spilling her guts. All it takes is a little interest and the illusion that she’s choosing to tell me versus me prying.
She sighs. “It’s the situation itself. It’s just sort of ... still there, this unfinished thing lurking in the background waiting to pop up.”
“Have you decided if you’re going to do the lineup or agree to testify if it comes to that?”
“No.” She bows her head. “To be honest, I’m afraid.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I hate that it’s true. But it is.”
I take another bite of my food as I roll the words around in my head. If I answer this wrong, she may clam up.
“I think either way we’ll be afraid. But by testifying and identifying one of these bastards in a lineup, we can take some of our power back. Believe me. I thought about turning a blind eye and walking away, too.”
“So why aren’t you?”
“Doesn’t jive with me. It feels too much like saying it was okay to shit on me. That I’ll take whatever’s handed to me. Nah. I need to do this for me, or I’m never going to be able to move forward. Do you think you’ll be okay if you don’t?” I struggle to place my own wants aside and focus on her well-being. Without her, the case will be weaker. There’s a reason the D.A.C. keep getting away with murder. They’re intimidating.
“I don’t know.” Her face wrinkles up in disgust. “I hate being so wishy-washy.”
“Well, do you think it’ll be worse than it is now?” I ask posing the question differently.
“That’s the question I’m trying to answer.” She stabs the dessert with her spoon. “I’m not indecisive. This flaky crap is pissing me off.”
“Hey, give yourself time. I can’t tell you what to do, but I can promise you I’ll be beside you every step of the way.”
“They called me about a potential lineup. That’s why I feel rushed.”
I lean into her across the table. “What did you say?”
“That I’d get back with them.”
“And are you?” I hold my breath as I wait for her response.
“Yeah, I am. You know what? Screw this. I’m going to do it.”
I reach across the table to squeeze her hand. “I’m with you. How do you feel?”
She sighs. “Better.”
We finish off our food, and I pay the check. Grabbing my hand, she pulls me out of the restaurant.
“Do you like art?” she asks.
“I’m not opposed to it,” I reply.
“Great, we’ll hit up the WorkRoom first.”
We step inside the store, and my eyes are automatically drawn to the bright black track lights highlighting the tables full of interesting wares. The space isn’t large—every inch seems to have a part to play—yet, it’s not overly crowded. They’ve mastered the art of marketing. My eyes are drawn to the beige hat boxes full of small toys and trinkets. I gravitate toward them with Rolly, Payton, and Ashley in mind.
“I forgot you have littles in your family. We’re still waiting for one of us to break the seal, so to speak.”
“They’re not really little anymore. The kids have grown so fast. I’m dealing with pre-teens, but Rolly is all about interesting toys.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“’Cause he’s cool like his old man.”
“There’s a thin line between cocky and confidence, Mr. Hemnway.”
“It’s fortunate I know how to walk between the two, isn’t it?” I wink and return my attention to the items as she heads over to what I call the smell good section. I find a cup and ball game with a red, green, and yellow strip. Rolly would love this. A few more searches finds a teal metal worked frame for Ashley, and a wooden carved keychain for Payton. She returns with a few boxes of diffusers in a pink box.
“One for me and one for my sister, Riley. She’s all about fragrances, crystals, and vibes. You’ll get the picture when you met her. She’s a massage therapist and Reiki Master.”
“She does some form of martial arts?”
She laughs. “No, it’s a sort of spiritual alignment.”
“Like the whole Chakra thing.”
“Exactly. I’m actually kind of impressed you knew that much.”
“Hey, I’m cultured.” I puff out my chest.
“Oh, I didn’t doubt it for a minute. Here.” She wiggles her hands.
“What?”
“I’m getting the gifts. You got the dinner, so it makes us even.”
“No. I can buy my own.”
“I know you can. But I want to do something.”
“You had dinner with me.”
“That doesn’t count.” She narrows her gaze. “Let me do this.”
“Why?” I ask, curious about her persistence.
“’Cause I don’t like to owe anyone.”
Her eyes flicker with pain. Someone dicked her over. “Good thing you don’t.” I refuse to let the ghost of anyone else intrude on what we have going. “My gifts will never come with a string attached. Relax and let me woo you, sassy.”
Her lips quirk upward. “Woo?”
“Yeah, can’t a man woo a woman anymore?”
“I’m shocked you even know that word,” she drawls.
“You’re going to have to learn to stop underestimating me, sassy.”
“I am, believe me.”
“IS THIS WHERE I WALK you up to your door?”
I cut the engine and unbuckle my seatbelt.
“No, this is where we end our night with a kiss.” I pop her buckle and pull her to my side. She meets me halfway, and I sample the taste of decadent chocolate and Quinn. She moans and I dart into her mouth, taking control as I cup the back of her neck. Her breasts press into my chest, and her arms wrap around my neck. I nip her bottom lip, and she gasps, arching into me. She’s glowing in the moonlight streaming into the cab. I suck in air as we rest our foreheads against one another.
“I should go,” she whispers.
“Yes, you should.” We said we’d take things slow, but all I can think about right now is her legs wrapped around my waist while she rides me. “You’re a temptation I’m having a hard time resisting.”
“You say the sweetest things, Ollie,” she says breathlessly as we untangle our limbs and exit the truck.
I walk her to her car and brush her lips briefly with my own. “If anything happens, whether it’s valid or not, I want you to call me, okay?”
She glances down.
I tip up her chin. “Quinn, I’m serious.”
“Yeah, I know you are.”
“We’re in this thing together, sassy.” I run my knuckles down the side of her face, and she leans into my hand.
“Yes, we are.”
After a second, I step back and open the door as she climbs in and places her bags on the passenger seat.
Chapter Six
Ollie
“Mom?” I walk inside the house and scan the area. It’s our habit to get together every few weeks for Sunday brunch, just the two of us. We have a family dinner once a month with everyone, but this is our sacred time. Since the robbery, she’s made it her business to check on me two and three times a week. I understand why, but it’s driving me up the wall.
“I’m in the kitchen, baby.�
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I follow the sound of her soft voice to the island where she’s drinking a cup of tea. Her brunette hair is streaked liberally with gray and the crow’s feet around her eyes and mouth are deeper.
“How are you feeling?” she asks. The kindness in the blue eyes so similar to my own gets me in the gut.
How can I stay mad at her for caring?
“I’m a lot better. Physical therapy is going well, and the soreness is fading. I’ll get the green light to return to work in another week or so.”
She frowns so deep her brows nearly kiss. Here we go. “Should you be rushing back?”
“Mom, I’m going stir crazy. There’s only so much television and books a person can consume for entertainment.”
She sighs. “You never liked to stay in one place doing the same thing for too long. From the minute you were old enough to do things alone, you were always on the go. I wasn’t surprised at all when you left home to go skate around the world.”
“It was my passion. I had to follow it as far as I possibly could, or I always would’ve wondered. Besides, college wasn’t for me. I could never thrive there. Not when I had no direction. I would’ve been going to please you, and in the end, it would’ve been a waste of good money.”
“And I knew that. It’s why I never spoke a word against your decision. It was an incredible opportunity to see the world and do what you love. I was proud of you. I’m still proud. I hope you know that.”
My stomach drops. This sounds like a build-up to bad news. “Mom, are you okay?”
“I am.” She swallows. “When I got the call you’d been shot I thought of all the things I hadn’t said or didn’t say enough.” She sniffs and I walk over to pull her into a side hug. She’s finally breaking down and opening up. I knew this moment would come eventually. In the hospital, she held it together to be strong for me. Now that I’m on the mend, it’s a different story. I know my mom better than anyone else. She hides her feelings until it’s safe in her mind to let go.
“I’m okay, Mom.”
“I was so scared. And your father ...” Her voice shakes. “You should’ve seen his face when he came in. I think ... I think he wants to repair your relationship.”
I roll my eyes. “Mom—”
“No. It made me realize I did you a disservice never encouraging you to iron things out. What he did to me was despicable, yes. But it’s between him and me.”
“Mom, with all due respect, Dad can eat a bag of dicks. It was more than the cheating. We never meshed. I didn’t fit in or live up to his expectations, and he never let me forget it. That’s the base of all our animosity.”
I release her. I knew my dad had come around. I was half awake for one occasion. It had done nothing to soften my heart where he was concerned. It felt like some last-ditch effort to set us straight in case I kicked the bucket.
“Why are we even talking about this?”
She glances at the floor.
“Mom?”
“Because I asked her to invite you here. I knew you wouldn’t answer my calls or come if you knew about the arrangement.”
I glance toward my father who’s coming down the hall toward me.
“You’re damn straight. Really, Mom? I expect this from him, not you.”
“This is about what’s best for you,” she says.
“I’m fine exactly how I am.” I grit my teeth.
“I won’t be here forever. I need to know you have a support system if something happens to me. That robbery reminded me of how unpredictable and short life can be. We need to heal this family.”
I shake my head. “I can see where you’re coming from, Mom. I know you feel this is what needs to happen, but I’m not interested. It’s all water under the bridge.”
I turn to look at my father. He’s aged well over the years. His hair is a salt and pepper medley woman like, and the wrinkles that stand out make him appear more distinguished. He’s kept his six foot two frame trim. Dressed in a pair of khakis and a crisp white button-up shirt, he’s more relaxed than I remember him being growing up. I have to hand it to his new wife, Kathy. She’s gotten him to loosen him up. That it came at my family’s expense is the thing I can’t forgive.
Why not just divorce? What purpose did cheating serve? There was no love lost between the two, clearly. My parents’ dealings with one another were luke-warm, at best, and icy toward the end. I’d hate to try to guess how many women there were before he landed on Kathy.
“Are you going to punish me for the rest of our lives over the things I did wrong?” my father asks quietly.
“Let’s not pretend it was a small thing. You didn’t miss my big games, but you did you cheat on my mother, humiliating her in front of the entire town who knew damn well what you were doing, and put me down every step of the way.”
“No, I tried to mold you into someone set up for success.”
“At the expense of my happiness? We both know I wasn’t cut out for the doctor or lawyer route, so why force the issue? Because it hurt your pride that I wasn’t like you.”
“Oliver, there were a million other things you could’ve done. You had limitless potential. I knew that, so I made sure you had the grades and the extracurricular activities that would allow you to pursue a college degree, or at the very least get you into a trade school.”
“Or neither of those two options, because we see I took an alternative route.”
“Which was a huge gamble.”
“That paid off,” I counter.
“Luckily for you, yes it did. For a million others it didn’t.”
I roll my eyes. He takes me back to being a pre-teen living under his roof dealing with his stifling rules.
“Listen, we’ll never agree on how to succeed in life. I understand that. The difference of opinions is no reason why you and I can’t have a meaningful relationship.”
“I really can’t do this right now, Dad,” I say as I blow out my breath and look up at the ceiling.
“Then when?”
My phone rings and I latch on to the distraction. I pull it from my pocket, and the blood drains from my face.
“I have to take this,” I say as I walk past him and out on to the back patio.
“Detective Kunes?”
“Mr. Hemmingway, I think we have our man. Can you come in for a lineup tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
“How does noon sound?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll see you then.”
Vindication is so close I can almost taste it. I return to the house where my father is standing closer to my mother than I’d like. I never thought he paid for the humiliation he caused us, or the way he’d done her wrong. It bothered me. It was like the story where the villain prospered, and the hero died. Only, Mom didn’t die, she simply shut down and hardened her heart to another chance a love. The similarities between us is staggering. She had a busy life full of family, friends, and activities, but I can tell she’s lonely. I want more for her than a life lived alone. She deserves to be loved by a man who’ll appreciate her.
“Mom, I’m not sure what you’re expecting of me here.” I cross my arms.
“I know you hate to be cornered, so I’ll put this out there and leave it. All I want you to do is think about fixing this with me,” Dad says.
I open my mouth to shred him to pieces, but stop when I see my mother’s hopeful gaze.
“Fine, I’ll think about it. Are we done here?”
“Yeah, we’re done. Thanks for trying to help, Deborah.” He squeezes her shoulder and heads for the door. I watch him leave, confused by the exchange.
“You want to tell me when you both got so friendly again?”
“We have three children together, Oliver.”
She’s pulled out the full name. I should proceed with caution. However, the emotions churning inside of me like a whirlpool blow any shot I had of doing that out of the water.
“And?”
“And it’s ti
me you make your peace with him and what happened. I did.”
“What the hell, Mom?”
“I know why you sent Allie away. You’ve always been resistant to anything long term. Your father and I are to blame for that. I tried to let you work through it on your own. But seeing you go through this healing process alone soured my stomach.”
“Mom, it’s not even like that.” I hold out a hand to stop her.
“Are you sure? You two have a child together, and she’s a sweet girl—”
“Yes, when she wants to be. We’re too incompatible to work long term. That’s why I cut ties with her. Leading her on isn’t good for me, her, or Rolly.”
She blinks. “Oh.”
I smile. “I’ve been holding out on you. I’m seeing Quinn.”
“The girl who saved your life?” Smiling, she sits up straighter in her chair.
I laugh. “Yeah. We wanted to keep it to ourselves and see how it panned out before we let others know.”
“Oh, this is wonderful. You’re serious about her?”
“Very.”
She sighs. “That makes me immensely happy. You’re forty-one. I don’t want you to be alone like me.”
“Mom, you’re still young,” I protest. I hate the defeated look on her face.
“It’s kind of you to say that. Back to you. I think it’s time to settle this thing with your father. He was beside himself at the hospital. Crying, demanding answers, and looking every one of his sixty-five years. I don’t know when I saw him so shaken.”
“Really?”
“Honey, he may never have understood you, but he’s always loved you. You butted heads because he wanted to give you a good life, and in his mind, you’d never allowed him to do that. When you rejected everything he believed and stood for, it was personal for him.”
Her words paint his side of the picture. I mull it over. Not ready to be swayed, I sigh and scrub my face with my hand. Things are never as black and white as we want them to be, and the hostility between us takes energy I don’t feel like extended any longer.
“I hear you, Mom. I’m going to work on this. I need you to bear with me, though, ’cause I’m not where you are in the process.”
