Keeping Claudia (Toby & Claudia Book 2)

by Suzanne McKenna Link

  For his sake, I put a lid on my enthusiasm. “You guys at the Monkey? Why didn’t you come say hello?”

  Ray kicked at a discarded plastic cup on the ground. “I d-didn’t wa-want to intrude.”

  I thumped him on the shoulder. “Dude, don’t be like that. Get in. I’ll drive you home.”

  With the duo in the back seat, I got back on the road and motioned in Eddie's direction.

  “Claudia, this meatball is Ray’s younger brother, Eddie.”

  “Younger, much better looking, brother.” Eddie’s arrogance was met with a curt, incoherent retort from Ray, but under Eddie’s boast was the truth. Eddie was a sturdier, better-looking version of Ray, and he didn’t share Ray’s speech impediment. All through high school, I teased Ray about his constant, disheveled appearance, but Eddie seemed to make up for it. His dark brown hair looked to be recently cut. His clothes were not only clean, but it appeared he'd put consideration into the outfit. If I wanted to rag on him, I would've told him he smelled like he'd taken a bath in his cologne. Still, the pungent scent was a hundred times better than the body odor I’d often badgered Ray to do something about.

  Eddie leaned forward and put a hand on Claudia’s shoulder. “You must be a music fan ‘cause you’re way too pretty to be hanging out with this loser.”

  Claudia bit back her smile.

  “Eat my ass, you little shit.” I laughed and smacked his hand away from her. “What've you been doing with yourself?”

  “Graduated last week—barely.” Eddie sat back, owning his near-failure with pride. “Now I’m gonna enjoy the summer.”

  “Y-you ne-need a job,” Ray stuttered through a grumble of annoyance.

  “What do you want to do?” Claudia asked.

  Eddie shrugged. “Haven’t given it much thought—something with a decent paycheck.”

  Claudia opened her mouth. I saw the lecture on her lips—it’d be something about diligence and focus—but catching her eye, I subtly shook my head. I’d known Eddie most of his eighteen years. Her words would fall on deaf ears.

  “If I hear of anything, I’ll let you know,” I said.

  “Why don’t you drop me off first?” Claudia said. “That way you guys can spend some more time together.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Absolutely. I’m beat anyway.”

  Out front the immaculate oatmeal-colored Chiametti house, I left the Jeep running and walked Claudia to the front door. We often ended nights out canoodling on one of the cushioned wicker chairs on the wide, covered porch of her two-story house, but with Ray and Eddie waiting, tonight there'd be none of that.

  “Thanks for being so understanding. I know you’re not a fan of Ray or his family.”

  She had good reason—namely Diane, Ray and Eddie’s mother, and the little bedroom action we almost cooked up one night—not my finest hour.

  “Eddie doesn’t seem to be the most motivated kid, but he’s sweet. His cologne is a bit strong and, boy, are those some tight jeans,” she said. “But I suppose he’s harmless.”

  I hooked her waist and tugged her to me. “Hey now, don’t you be paying that weenie or his ass any attention.”

  “I won’t.” She smiled up at me. “But it’s hard not to notice that unlike Ray his kid brother actually seems to have a personality.”

  “Hey, easy on my boy.” I playfully poked her in the stomach. “Ray’s had it harder than Eddie. His stutter has always held him back. He might not be as socially appealing as his brother, but Ray’s a good guy and my best friend.”

  The animosity between them was no shocker. When Ray had first met her, he’d grabbed her ass—a bold move for the painfully awkward, tongue-tied kid. She had spit fire and laid into him. At the time, I’d laughed, but despite his stutter, Ray wasn’t an idiot. If he’d tried that now, he knew I’d break his arm. But Claudia wasn’t one to forget something like that.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her fingers wiggling into mine. “I want to like all your friends, Toby, even Ray, but from where I stand, Ray lives an insular life. It’s hard to get past that when he won’t look me in the eye.”

  “He’s uncomfortable around girls. All girls. Based on his past experience with you, I’m pretty sure he’s nervous. Give him a chance. You'll see, he’s really not all bad.”

  “If you say so,” she said, with a heave of her shoulders.

  “Hey, tomorrow marks one whole month for us.” I held up a finger. “You up for a little anniversary celebration?”

  “Definitely,” she said.

  It was silly, but I would throw a damn party for every milestone if it meant she was celebrating it with me. “Come over to the house. I’ll make us dinner.”

  “Tennis, then dinner,” she countered. “And I’ll bake dessert.”

  “Do I look like the kind of guy who plays tennis?”

  “Do I look like the kind of girl who goes out to loud, obnoxious bars?” she asked with an impish grin.

  “Touché. I’ll play tennis but only if you bake me something chocolate.” Catching her waist, I drew her to me for a long goodnight kiss that left us both wanting for more.

  I waited until the door shut before pulling out my cell and looking up the definition of ‘insular.’

  We crossed town with Ray sitting shotgun and pulled up outside the weary-looking gray, prefab house. Eddie man-hugged me from the backseat and hopped out of the Jeep.

  “Stay out of trouble,” I called after him.

  “Like to, but trouble is my middle name.” He gave me a ball-busting grin. Ray made a snorting noise.

  Glad to finally have him alone, I turned to face Ray and asked, “So, how’ve ya been?”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “I tried calling you a few times, but I didn’t get through.” It was the truth, but that had been months ago. Over the last year, I’d been pretty much laid low, licking my wounds, and hadn’t made much of an effort to connect with him.

  “After I got out, I got a new phone. Pay-as-you-go.” He showed me a small, cheap cell phone.

  Ray had gotten a reduced sentence for his involvement in the attack of a Dominican man two years ago. He’d spent six months in the slammer for obstruction of justice and a stint in rehab for a second, unrelated drug possession charge for weed.

  “How was it being in lockup?” I asked.

  “Ain’t gonna lie. It sucked.”

  The last time we’d spent any length of time together was around the time Julia died. Not wanting to open the door to that warehouse of memories and emotions, I pointed to the old beat-up white Nissan Sentra parked on the cracked and neglected cement driveway. “What’s up with your car?”

  “It needs brakes, but I’m too low on funds right now to fix it.”

  From the looks of it, it had been sitting for quite some time. An assortment of straggly weeds had sprouted up around the tires.

  “Maybe I could take a look at it,” I said.

  He nodded but didn’t make an appeal for my help.

  Curiosity got the better of me. “What’s your mom up to these days?”

  “Met a biker guy and moved in with him.” Ray looked out the window. “Dude can’t stand Eddie and me. Couldn’t wait to m-move her into his place.”

  “No shit?” I thumbed my chin. “You okay with that?”

  “No. She f-fucking saddled me with that little turd.” He motioned to Eddie, sitting on the front steps, talking on his cell. “He’s a spoiled SOB, always jawing at me ‘cause I want him to h-help out around here. I swear he d-don’t know how to wipe his own ass. I k-kick him out at least once a week.”

  “Damn, Ray. He’s just a kid. So what if he buys his jeans from the girls department? They’re way better than those ratty sweatpants you got on there, Holmes.” I eyed the sweatpants in question and shook my head.

  “Yeah, w-well I got a shitload of other prob-problems to d-deal with than my effing w-war-wardrobe.” His face reddened simultaneously with his tongue failure.


  Considering how his family had gone down in flames, his father hadn’t been a part of his life for many years and now his mother had abandoned ship, the bitterness in Ray’s tone shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. It always seemed no matter what was going on in our lives, Ray was usually upbeat, like a puppy, ready for whatever was next.

  “So you pretty much got the place to yourself. That’s cool,” I said, attempting to lighten the conversation.

  Ray nodded, a trace of a smile on his face. “Yeah, would’ve killed to have the house to myself years ago, but now it’s just kinda… l-lonely. Ya know?”

  We both looked at the drab house. I did know. My family was gone, and I was alone in my house, too.

  After a moment, Ray fidgeted in his seat, hesitating to leave the Jeep. “Faye, I hate to ask, but could you front me a f-few bucks? I’m dead broke, and I won’t get my unemployment check until n-next week.”

  “Unemployment? How come you’re not working?”

  “Time in the j-joint doesn’t look good on a job application.” He shrugged. “It’s easier this way.”

  Seeing him like this was a good reminder that when I was having a tough time of it, there was always someone else who was worse off. I took my wallet out, pinched a fifty, and pushed it at him. He stared at it as if it had miraculously dropped from the sky.

  “Thanks. I’ll p-pay you back, I sw-swear.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Ray.” Feeling awkward with his gratitude, I changed the subject. “Hey, you see Rob Pace at the Mad Monkey tonight? He’s running the place.”

  “Yeah. Still an asshole,” he said. “He s-start with you?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “He likes our band. Wants us to interview for a house gig. I was like what the fuck, dude? You forget the way you treated Lacie?” I hadn’t said her name out loud in years, and still it managed to pinch the insides of my chest.

  “They ever f-find him responsible for what happened?” he asked.

  “No, but I know he did something. I won’t ever work for him.”

  “Hell no,” Ray said. “How ‘bout we do s-something this w-weekend?”

  I felt bad having to turn him down.

  “Can’t this weekend. I’m working overtime and have plans with my girl.”

  “You’ve always w-wanted to be with her, haven’t you? She’s l-like the mega lo-lottery, and you kept b-betting the numbers until you won.”

  I was taken aback at Ray’s observation. With a self-conscious laugh, I scratched the back of my head. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “I hope you can make some time for me in between the p-pages of y-your love story, ‘cause I miss hanging with you, bro.”

  His openness corkscrewed inside me, messing me up more than I would ever admit. I missed him, too. With Ray, it was never forced. It just was easy. I could be myself. I shouldn’t have left him high and dry. I shouldn’t forget the things and the people who got me through the most difficult times in my life.

  Like I’d done many times in high school, I noogied Ray in the arm. “Don’t be getting all sentimental on me, bro. We’ll hang. Text me your new number, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  He smiled, the first real one of the night. “Okay, cool.”

  As he was getting out of the Jeep, I stopped him. “Hey, Ray, you know what the word insular means?”

  He shook his head.

  I tapped the screen of my cell phone and read the definition out loud. “It means uninterested in cultures, ideas, or people outside one’s own experience; narrow-minded; small town; shortsighted,” I told him. “And you and me? We’re not going to be like that.”

  Chapter 4 • Claudia

  There was a warm, light breeze down at Foster Avenue Park, Sayville’s bay front recreational area. I locked my car, two tennis rackets slung over my shoulder, and made my way to the fenced-in tennis courts.

  I unsheathed my old high school racket and twirled the rubberized handle between my palms. Since returning home, my schedule had been unnervingly open. I wasn’t used to so much free time so I’d made playing tennis a new habit and persuaded everyone I could onto the court with me—Dad, April, my cousin Jeannie, and finally, Toby.

  He didn’t live far, just on the northwest side of town, a simple five-minute drive, but more than fifteen minutes passed before his red Jeep zipped into the parking lot.

  He waved as he climbed out of the car. I waved back and surveyed the other women in the park who sat chatting in small groups of twos and threes while their children noisily climbed the play structure nearby. After last night at the bar, I was fascinated at the way people reacted to him, women in particular.

  They didn’t fail to deliver at the park either.

  Heads turned and conversations briefly stalled. Dozens of eyes trailed his loping, easy gait. Even my neighbor, old Mrs. Nicolls, who was old enough to be our grandmother, leaned a little heavier on her cane as she craned her neck to check him out.

  As her eyes followed him, she saw me and lifted a hand in greeting. “Claudia, hi!”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Nicholls. It’s good to see you out and about.” I waved back, but my attention quickly returned to Toby. The sliver of annoyance I’d felt at his tardiness metamorphosed into anticipation as he drew closer. His lips curved into a smile that reached his blue-grey eyes. And dang if those eyes didn’t seem eternally lit with a flicker of mischief.

  My pulse quickened, and my stomach did cartwheels. It flummoxed me that he could make my body react in such a manner.

  “Toby Faye,” I chastised with effort. “You’re late.”

  Not responding to my grievance, he scooped an arm around my waist and pulled my body up against his.

  “I am totally digging that little dress. You look super adorable… and sexy,” he whispered into my ear, the smell of spearmint gum on his breath.

  His touch and compliment sent a tingle down my spine, but I pulled away and smoothed down the fabric of my white tennis dress. “What, this old thing?”

  A relic from high school, my old tennis outfit was form-fitting and sporty and left no doubt of my curves, but I was dressed appropriately for our game, unlike him, dressed in long silky basketball shorts, high top sneakers and a T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, exposing half of a life-like armor tattoo that traversed the upper part of his right arm to the back of his shoulder.

  I handed him my father's ancient tennis racket and fluttered my eyelashes at him. “I hope it won't be too distracting.”

  He barked out a laugh, stepped back, and swung the racket. It was technically a perfectly executed backswing. “I must really be hot for you because we both know this is going to be a disaster.”

  “I know nothing of the sort,” I said, popping open a plastic sleeve and spilling the three fluorescent tennis balls into my hand.

  Toby had warned me that he'd never played tennis outside of the mandatory week in school gym class each year, making the last time he’d stepped on the court at least four years ago, but I wasn't worried. He was in good shape, agile, and was one of those guys whose natural reflexes made him adaptable to play any sport even if he’d never played it before.

  Tennis and golf were the only sports I'd ever played. People with natural athleticism like his roused my competitive nature, but he didn't act even the slightest bit superior about his ability. And seriously, watching him was hypnotic. No girl could look across at those finger-mussed, tawny waves, that angular tan face, and those solid, toned limbs, and stay focused on competition. Even someone as single-minded and focused as I was.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take it easy on you.” I tossed two balls to the corner of the court and thumbed the fluorescent yellow fuzz of the third, pleased that in knowing the sport I had the advantage.

  “No need. I'm up for going at it a little rough.” The playful teasing flustered me enough to send heat to my cheeks and other places, too.

  I shook my head. “I don't think I've ever met someone who loves an innuendo as much as you.”


  “You’re the one connecting the dots,” he claimed innocently.

  This prevailing repartee perfectly defined the current state of our relationship, the intense attraction that simmered between us. We were engaged in an ongoing sexual war of sorts. We were unfairly matched, however, as I was like a new recruit and he like a skilled general in command of superior forces with a prowess that threatened to crush my defenses. I was challenged to give into the temptation and raise my white flag on almost a daily basis, but I resisted. Though I fought to hold onto the fort and my chastity for the past month, I had no intention of winning the war.

  I would surrender eventually, just not yet. Not until I was sure what we had was real.

  I tossed the ball up into the air and served it over the net.

  “I was thinking—” I said.

  “That’s always dangerous,” he quipped as he returned the volley.

  If he’d been closer, I would’ve elbowed him in the ribs. “Seriously, moving forward, I’d like you to meet my mother. Can you ask for time off from work before I start classes this fall so we can fly to San Diego?”

  While I called New York, more specifically the south shore of Long Island, home, my mother had relocated to the West Coast five years ago after my parents’ divorce. Toby had yet to meet her.

  “The summer is crazy busy for the construction trade, and being less than a year with the company, I won’t get the time off.” He returned a volley near the line. I had to run to return it. “And I imagine the band will pick up some gigs, too.”

  “Okay, then how about your brother?” I persisted. “How about we take a ride to Otisville to visit him?”

  “That’s no place for someone like you,” he said, brows furrowed. “Place is full of thieves and murderers.”

  “But your mother visited him. You took her there.”

  “Was I supposed to ignore the request of a sick, dying woman who wanted to see her eldest son?” Toby swatted the ball hard. I dashed back a few steps but gave up. It went way over my head.

  “Other than your Aunt Joan, Al is the only family you have. I want to meet him.”