by Arlene James
A normal life. To Laurel that meant a life alone. Peeking in at him near dinnertime, she saw that he had not done more than step out of his shoes and throw off his coat before tumbling facedown onto the bed. He had clearly worked himself to the point of exhaustion over these past few days, and she knew that she ought to be grateful. She was grateful, and yet she could not help wishing that their time together could have been longer. But her “normal life” beckoned, and she reasoned that the sooner she got back to it, the better for everyone.
Edward woke around two in the afternoon, showered, shaved, changed and gulped down a turkey sandwich, talking hurriedly the whole time about a Kate Ballard and possible leads and affidavits from Danny Hardacre, which meant they would not be pressing charges. Now if only the maid would cooperate, he muttered. But it was all terribly confusing to Laurel. Beginning at the beginning, she tried to question him.
“Who,” she asked, following him down the spiral staircase to the entry, Barry on her hip, “is Kate Ballard?”
He paused in the dual act of digging the car keys out of his pocket and reaching for the doorknob to give her an odd, almost censorious look, and dropped the bombshell. “She’s the new attorney who’s taken over your case.”
Laurel rocked back on her heels. New attorney. “But I thought you were handling everything.”
He made an impatient sound and said, “I’ll still be in it up to my elbows, but Kate’s making the tough decisions now. Look, she’s had more experience at this sort of thing than I have, and she’s a damned fine attorney. I wouldn’t have turned it over to her otherwise. It’ll be fine. It’s best this way. Trust me.”
She bit her lip and nodded. Yes, she trusted him. If she was disappointed or hurt, it was her own fault. How many times had she been in this same spot? Looked like she’d learn one day not to hope for too much. Funny thing was, she hadn’t thought she had.
He went on about something else, but she found it too difficult to pay attention and merely batted back tears. Finally he caught her face in his hands and lifted it for a brief, cool kiss, saying, “I have to get back to the office. Kate’s downtown shopping for an immediate court date. We want to catch Kennison off guard, but there’s still much to do if we’re going to be prepared ourselves, and as far as I’m concerned, the sooner this is over with, the better. Don’t you agree?”
Gently she extricated herself from his grasp and nodded. “Yes, I see that now. You’re right, it’s time to get back to a normal routine.”
He murmured something about everything happening so fast and there being no time for long explanations, but she put on a brave face and told him that he should just get to it then and not worry about her. He went out the door saying that he’d known she would understand. He was thankful, it seemed, that she wasn’t going to try to hang on to him when all was said and done.
Been there, done that, she told herself resolutely, and she had learned from the experience. God knew she had.
She called Fancy at the diner and explained that it was safe now for her to return to her own apartment and her job, the restraining order having been served. Fancy agreed to come for her at the end of her shift, and Laurel began packing the things she and Barry had brought with them.
Edward took the stairs two at a time, whistling. He was tired but satisfied, even excited, and to think that he had Kate and none other than Danny Hardacre to thank for it. Danny had done considerably more than stipulate his own complicity with Abelard Kennison in the matter of Laurel’s divorce settlement. He had let Kate alternately charm and bully him into telling everything he knew about Abelard Kennison’s dealings, and he knew quite a lot. Hardacre had first-hand knowledge, for instance, about two other cases where Kennison had persuaded elderly clients into setting up trusts controlled by himself or a handpicked minion. He had then proceeded to milk each estate dry, leaving the supposed inheritors broke and confused. He had names, dates, strategies, and he was willing to tell them all in a bid to keep his license to practice. In addition, Pamela Scott, Bryce’s former maid and girlfriend, had also given them a detailed and very damning statement. It was, figuratively speaking, the mother lode, and Edward could not have been more pleased. It was all over now but the shouting, and he couldn’t wait to tell Laurel. She would be as delighted as he and Kate, and that being the case, they were due a small celebration. He had agreed to meet the Ballards at a local supper club and, pending Laurel’s permission, had arranged for the Sugarmans to keep Barry for the evening. He meant it to be more of a personal celebration than even the Ballards or Sugarmans might suspect, and he was eager to begin the festivities.
He was just about to take a chance on disturbing the baby by calling Laurel’s name when he spied the note taped to the top of the stair rail. A shiver of unease passed through him. Why had she gone out? Hadn’t he told her that a restraining order was no guarantee of safety? He couldn’t actually remember if he had or not, but he knew that this note did not bode well for his peace of mind. Carefully he peeled it off the railing and held it up to the light, expecting to find a hastily scribbled message saying that she would return from the corner market in ten minutes or less. Instead, it was a carefully penned note.
Dearest Edward,
You were right about getting on with our normal lives. I certainly cannot go on living here on your goodwill indefinitely, and my job at the diner cannot be held open for me much longer. As I am well enough and the legal pieces seem to be falling together, no good reason exists for me to continue as I am. You can, of course, find me at the apartment or reach me via the diner or Fancy. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have truly been my White Knight. I’ll never forget you.
Laurel
He could not quite comprehend that she had gone back to her old life until he read the note through again, and even then he merely looked around him at first in a kind of emotional stupor. She had left him. After everything, she had left him. He sat down heavily on the top step to think what to do next, but what was there to do? He looked down at the note crumpled in his hand, and all the cogs and wheels of his mind seemed to grind to a slow, paralyzing stop. When next he looked up, the house was dark, and a deep, angry desperation settled over him. Surprisingly, he could think of only one place to go, only one thing to do. Blindly, he stuffed the note into his coat pocket and stumbled down the stairs and out the door.
Parker stepped down into the large, dimly lit room and looked around. Sitting at the bar, Edward tossed back a jigger of straight bourbon and followed it with a swig of cold lager, watching as Parker scanned the pool tables and electronic game machines before spotting him at the bar. The expression on Parker’s face told Edward that he had been looking for him for some time, but Ed was too far-gone to much care. He pushed the shot glass in the bartender’s direction and ordered another shot With a glance in Parker’s direction, the pretty little blonde named Cathy complied. Ed tossed it back while Parker removed a flip phone from his pocket and dialed a number, speaking briefly before folding up the phone and stashing it.
“Broke mine,” Ed said sluggishly as Parker walked up to the bar. “Damned thing kept ringing.”
“Yeah? How come you didn’t just answer it?”
“Why would I want to do that?” Edward said, and swallowed a big mouthful of beer to cool the burn in his gut.
Parker smiled at Cathy and leaned over the bar to give her a peck on the cheek. “How you been, Cath?”
“Same old same old,” she said brightly. “How’s the family?”
“Couldn’t be better. Well, Ken has been worried about this big galoot”
Cathy sighed. “Yeah, me, too.” She cocked a hip and cracked her chewing gum. “I haven’t seen him like this since…Nope, I. haven’t ever seen him like this. Somebody pulled his chain, huh?”
“Must have,” Parker replied noncommittally, stepping over the stool next to Ed and taking a seat. He shook his head when Cathy laid a napkin down in front of him. Shrugging, she turned away and began pol
ishing the glasses brought in from the dishwasher in the back. Edward ignored them both and nursed his beer. After a moment, Parker took some peanuts from the basket at Ed’s elbow, popped them into his mouth and said, “Well, is this déjà vu all over again or what?”
Ed tapped his shot glass on the counter to get Cathy’s attention and ordered another. She looked at Parker. “You driving him?”
“Yeah.”
Ed said nothing as she filled the glass. He was already fairly drunk, but not nearly as drunk as he intended to be. Parker ate a few more peanuts and said, “Want to talk about it?”
Ed sucked up half the bourbon and took a deep breath. Fishing in his pocket, he took out the crumpled note and tossed it onto the bar. “Nothing to talk about.”
Parker smoothed out the note and bent his head over it, reading it by the meager light. Finished, he pushed it away with his fingertips and smoothed an eyebrow. “I thought you two were getting married. That’s what Kate said anyway.”
“Yeah, well, I thought so, too,” Edward said, slamming back the last of the bourbon. It went down hard, and he shuddered when it hit his stomach and started to roil.
Parker scratched his head. “So, um, when did you ask her?”
“Ask her who?”
“Laurel.”
“Ah. What was the question again?”
Parker rolled his eyes and carefully said, “When did you ask Laurel to marry you?”
Ed frowned and waved a hand, feeling decidedly woozy. “I didn’t ask her. She asked me. Remember? That was the whole damned deal. She asked me!”
Parker nodded, clearly having trouble putting it all together. “Okay. So, um, when did you agree to it?”
Ed tried to think that one over but quickly gave it up. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know when you agreed to marry her?”
Ed shook his head impatiently. “Look, it wasn’t like that, all right? I didn’t say, Oh, by the way, I’ve thought it over, and I will marry you, after all.’ I didn’t say that.”
“What did you say, then?”
“I didn’t say anything! No. I mean, I didn’t have to say anything.” He swallowed beer and sighed. “Actions speak louder than words, you know—and that’s all I have to say about that.”
Parker rubbed the back of his neck like he was getting a headache or something. “So what did you do that let her know you wanted to marry her?”
Edward couldn’t believe he was hearing this. He looked Parker squarely in the eye—or as squarely as he could manage with his neck starting to feel like it was rubber—and said, “You don’t really expect me to tell you that I made love to her, do you?”
Parker’s mouth compressed like he was trying to hide a yawn or something, and he quickly turned his head away, saying in a choked voice, “No, no. Wouldn’t dream of demanding details.”
Ed nodded decisively. “‘Course not. Anyway, it doesn’t make any difference. She left anyway.”
Parker inclined his head. “Well, maybe she didn’t understand exactly what you were telling her when you…you know.”
Edward snorted and wondered briefly which of the two beers in front of him was his, or even which hand was his, for that matter. He shook his head, and the two beers became four, so he closed his eyes. “Whadda you mean, she didn’ unnerstan’?”
Parker sighed and confessed, “I’ve discovered an odd thing about women, old friend. They have to be told point-blank what’s on a fellow’s mind. Even now I find myself explaining to my own wife, in minute detail, just what it is I mean. And who, I ask you, could know me better than Ken?”
Edward peeked out from beneath heavy eyelids, pleased to see only one of Parker on the stool next to him. “She made it sound like it was me,” he said, and when Parker looked at him like he’d grown a second head, he added, “In the note, that stuff about ‘normal lives.’ I didn’t say that. Well, I did say it, but not like that, not like she should go back to what was her normal life before our normal life that started when she came home with me, and for sure then when she let me make love to her. See?”
Parker started a nod and ended with a shake. “Nope. Uh-uh.”
Edward rolled his eyes and nearly fell backward off his stool, catching himself at the last moment. Something new occurred to him. “Hey, you ‘member that night we was in here jus’ before Darla’s custody hearing?”
Parker laughed. “Yeah. I remember you told me I had to tell Kendra that I wanted her to stay. You implied, in fact, that I had to do more than tell her, I had to make her believe it, even if it meant seducing her repeatedly. At least that’s the way I took it.”
“So what’re you sayin’?”
“I’m saying, maybe she just hasn’t gotten it yet. Maybe Laurel needs now what Kendra needed back then. Maybe you just have to spell it out.”
“You mean I should ask ‘er t’ marry me?”
Parker shrugged. “Why not, if that’s what it takes?”
Edward frowned at the empty bottom of his glass. He’d heard somewhere that you could drown in an inch of water, but only, he supposed, if you didn’t want to. That’s how this stuff usually worked, and since that was the case, he might as well drink it. It was kind of like getting married—she only wanted you to until you wanted to, too. He shook his head and said something he’d never thought he’d ever say. “I liked it better that she asked me. It was kinda nice, her askin’ me, you know? Made me proud. Scared the hell outta me, but it was nice, too, even when I thought she was nuts because she asked me, unnerstan’?”
Parker was hiding a yawn again. “I understand,” he said, reaching up to pat Ed’s shoulder. Unfortunately, that was all it took to tip Ed forward off his stool. Fortunately, he was out before his head even hit the bar.
Chapter Fifteen
“Rise and shine, partner. You’ve had all the rest and recuperation I can give you.”
Edward groaned and rolled over, hitting the floor with a foundation-shaking thud. Laughter echoed and reverberated inside his head, which he tried to hold together with his hands. If he ever made sure it would stay in place, he’d get up and throttle whoever was doing this to him. Where the hell was he anyway? Gingerly he cracked open one eyelid, moaning when pain lanced his head in a bright ray of light. He was dying. No other explanation of sufficient import existed—until he remembered the bourbon and beer he’d slugged back at Patrick’s Place last night. Was it only last night? Had to have been. He distinctly remembered sitting next to Parker at Cathy’s bar station and being asked if he’d told Laurel that he wanted to marry her, like you could tell that woman anything. He snorted at the idea, and pain shot up his nose and exploded inside his skull. Damn.
“Okay, pea brain, let’s try this again.”
He vaguely recognized the voice, not that he cared to. Then numerous hands reached down and tugged him up off the floor onto…a couch. When his head stopped swimming, he cupped his hands around his eyes protect y and carefully opened them. Kendra and Parker stood in his alrect line of fire. He groaned, understanding at last. “Couldn’t you have taken me back to my place?”
“And do what with you?” Parker asked. “Lay you out on the dining room table? Have you ever tried to lug two hundred and fifty pounds up a spiral staircase? It was all I could do to get you this far.”
He remembered none of what it had taken to get him here to Parker’s multipurpose room. The very last thing he remembered, in fact, was wondering if he was going to drown in the bottom of his glass—and telling someone how proud and happy he’d been that Laurel had asked him to marry her. Remembering it all now, he leaned forward, elbows on knees and supported his hanging head with his hands, groaning. “Somebody get me water and aspirin, please.”
They were thrust into his hands almost immediately. Steeling himself, he put his head back, shoved the aspirin into his mouth and thirstily drank down almost the whole glass of water, which began to roll around in his gut and threaten to come up.
“Here.” Kendra dump
ed saltines into his hands.
Blearily, Edward stared down at them. “What are these for?”
“Nausea,” she said. “Well, they help with pregnancy-related morning sickness, I thought they might help with hangovers, too.”
Willing to try anything, he was chewing the first one when it hit him. He jerked his gaze up, the pain in his head somewhat less than blinding. “Hey, are you having morning sickness?”
Kendra grinned, and Parker slid an arm protectively around her shoulders. “Is it great or what? I’m going to be a dad again, this time the regular way, and Darla is just as thrilled as we are.”
Edward smiled, on his way to a chuckle, consequences be damned, when a wave of envy so strong that it brought tears to his eyes hit him. He lurched forward, groaning to cover his embarrassment, and saw a pair of women’s feet in pale gray, twoinch heels cross his view.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you!”
Oddly, he knew those feet, or rather, the shoes, and he knew that voice.
“Your father will be ecstatic when he hears!”
Edward groaned again, inwardly this time. This was all he needed, Kate to view his ignominy. He sighed and rubbed his stinging eyes with the backs of his hands. The babble of three happy voices died away, and the squared-off toes of those extremely uncomfortable-looking shoes inserted themselves once more into his eyesight.
“Think you can manage now?” she said. “Actually, you’d better be able to do more than that. We have a court date, my friend.”
Edward moaned. He wanted to tell her to take that court date and shove it But he wasn’t going to. This was Laurel’s life they were talking about—Laurel’s and Barry’s. His throat closed up momentarily at the thought of that boy. He guessed he’d started thinking of the little redheaded scamp as his. True or not, he felt the loss dearly. He couldn’t help thinking what a similar loss would be like for Laurel. No, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to her. He cleared his throat and managed to ask, “When?”
