"That would be my business, now, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, yours and Townes's."
Why doesn't this woman get mad? wondered Trista. Yet, she persisted. "You're always so calm. Do you take drugs to keep an even keel?"
"No, Trista, I rarely even take aspirin."
"Hmm. How old are you?"
"I'm thirty-one."
"Good grief! You're younger than Lindsay!" She sat forward in the backseat. "Dad, I never took you for a child molester!"
Raif pulled into the emergency lane and spoke softly and slowly. He never turned around, but gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. "Trista, do you want to see Parker's baby?"
"I do."
"Then, stop, or I will leave you at the next truck stop. I'll pick you up on the return trip."
"You wouldn't!"
"Care to test me?" He turned and glowered at the girl in the backseat.
Trista folded her arms and slumped into the seat, but she kept quiet.
Parker, Sheena, and Ashton came home. Carol Johnson, Sheena's mother, came to stay at their house for a while, and she encouraged Parker to schedule the trip to the Czech Republic again. She told him, "I'll take care of the home front. Go. See if you can find anything to catch Chris's killer. Chris, Larkin, and I used to do things together. We called ourselves the three female musketeers. We're missing a musketeer."
Parker observed, "There was a fourth if I recall the story. Have you thought about recruiting Neely? Uncle Raif loves her, but I think she feels a little out of place. I mean, Trista has been downright hostile toward her. From what I've seen, Neely adores Uncle Raif. The family accepted me so readily. I hope they accept Neely. Uncle Raif deserves to be happy."
"I'll do that, Parker," Carol said. "As for my daughter-in-law, she thinks Neely is trying to take Chris's place. Trista is still mourning. She can't be objective right now. She'll get there eventually. It might help if Raif actually said, 'I do,' to the woman. She has waited patiently for him; but if he doesn't hurry, he might lose her, especially if Trista continues to make her life miserable."
So, Parker got a flight, and Ray and Larkin drove him to the airport.
Raif had tried repeatedly to talk to Trista about his relationship with Neely. Patrick accepted Neely as part of his father's life. He realized that his father needed someone, and Patrick liked Neely. He even joked with Raif that he wished Neely preferred younger men. Raif playfully told him to back off. Patrick knew his father. He knew that the only reason Neely was not his stepmother yet was because Raif was petrified of losing the woman he loved again. And, yes, he was fully aware Raif loved Neely. Patrick even argued with Trista on his next visit home.
"He's a hypocrite!" shouted Trista.
"What?" Patrick asked in confusion.
"He's sleeping with her, Patrick. What's the difference between them and Townes and me?"
"Let's see," said Patrick finally losing his own patience with his sister. "You were, and still are, a child. Grow up, Trista."
"She's not Mom!" Trista yelled.
"No, she's not," agreed Patrick with a shake of his head. "She's Neely. Trista, Dad's not trying to replace Mom. Do you know how many times I've seen him crying? He loved Mom so much. He still does. But he has the capacity to love someone else. Don't drive Neely away. Dad needs her. If you'll give her a chance, you'll really like her. I already told you this. She's really nice."
"Patrick, if he wasn't sleeping with her, I might not be so angry."
"Trista, she's staying in the guest house. What evidence do you have that they're sleeping together? Dad slept on her sofa in New Orleans."
"Do you really believe that?" She snapped her hands to her hips. "Maybe they haven't slept together all the time, but they have. I know it. Patrick, Dad's a good-looking man. I can understand a woman wanting him, but it's just hypocritical. You know, adults can get pregnant, too."
"For God's sake, Trista!" He gripped both sides of his head. "I'm sure if Dad and Neely did sleep together, they had sense enough to use protection. Frankly, it's none of your damned business!" God! What am I doing yelling at my pregnant sister? She's a frigging baby herself.
"Townes and I used protection, too. It doesn't always work!"
"Good grief, Trista. Just stop being so mean about it."
"Whatever!" huffed Trista as she stomped back to her room.
He called after her. "Bratikin, sorry I yelled. I love you."
"Yeah, yeah." She waved him off without turning around.
Patrick went back to New Orleans and wondered what Trista would think about him if she knew about his life in the big city.
When Raif got in from work, he called Trista downstairs.
"What do you want, Dad?" she asked in a surly voice.
"Please, just stop," Raif said as he held a hand up like a shield. "I needed to let you know I have to go to Baton Rouge tomorrow. I've been summoned. I have to meet with the Louisiana Building Commission so we can finally put this inferior building and embezzlement fiasco to bed. I might have to spend the night. I'll be gone before you get up, and I didn't want you to worry."
"Are you taking Neely with you?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Well, I thought you might need a little booty call."
"Trista!"
"Good night, Dad. Don't worry about what I think." She stalked off back to her room.
During the time Neely had been living in the Gautier guest house, she and Raif had not slept together. She was uncomfortable with the tension she seemed to be causing between Raif and Trista. When Raif knocked on the door around ten, Neely was stunned. She barely cracked the door.
Raif sighed. "I need to see you before I go to Baton Rouge tomorrow. I would ask you to go with me, but I'll be tied up with business the whole day. Neely, I need to be with you. I need to feel you close to me."
"Did you have another fight with Trista?"
"There are no fights, just snide, rude comments."
"Raif, maybe I should go back to New Orleans."
"No!" Raif panicked at the thought. "I love you, Neely. Trista will come to grips with it sooner or later. Please, don't leave me."
"Raif, I would never leave you. I love you. I would simply be living in a different town until things get better."
He begged, "Don't even suggest it. Let me come in."
"Raif, I don't want Trista to hate me."
"Damn what she thinks!" said Raif angrily.
"You don't mean that."
"No, not completely," he groaned. "I'm being selfish right now. For the first time in my life, I'm truly being selfish. I want you. I need to feel your body next to mine. I will beg if I have to."
"Raif." Neely hesitated. "Oh, all right. Come in." She stepped back and allowed him entrance.
In her room, Trista watched the entire scene and stayed up all night to see when her father left.
At dawn, Raif sneaked back into his own house in an effort to avoid a confrontation with his daughter. He met her face to face, a wicked trick after the treat he had just left on a nasty, stormy October 31st.
"You fucking hypocrite!" spat Trista like a cobra spitting venom.
"Excuse me? Since when do you talk to me like that?" Raif snarled.
"Since you are a fucking hypocrite!" She suddenly took a swing at her father, connecting with his jaw. "How dare you come down on Townes and me for having sex? You're doing the same thing. Mom would be so disappointed."
"Leave your mother out of this." Raif's voice was choked as he held his face, too stunned to respond in a logical manner.
"You obviously are. Thank God that slut is in the guest house and at least not in Mom's bed."
Raif drew his hand back to slap Trista across the face. In all the years, he had only spanked her twice. He pulled his hand back and bit his knuckle. Oh, God! This is not me. I almost slapped my daughter. I would never hit my child like that.
"Hit me! Go ahead!" Trista yelled.
With great
deliberation and in a soft whisper, Raif said, "It's time for you to find your own place to live. Once this baby is born, you will find an apartment. Townes will pay for it. I have had absolutely more than enough. Get out of my way. I need to shower and hit the road." He started to the master bedroom.
Trista ran after him and pounded him in the back. He turned around and latched his arms around her upper body, pinning her arms to her sides. "Stop it, Trista!"
Still struggling, she screeched, "You're hurting me!"
Raif let her go. "You're going to hurt your baby if you don't calm down." His voice broke as he said, "I can't do this anymore. Maybe you can stay with Terry and Carol for a while." He walked away.
She stared at her arm. I'm gonna have a bruise. My daddy put a bruise on me.
In the shower, Raif bawled like a baby. "Oh, God. I didn't mean to do that. What do I do?"
That all-too-familiar voice floated across his mind. "Suck it up, Buttercup. Raiford Lance Gautier, get it together. I'm doing all I can to guide you."
A few minutes later as Raif drove off in a downpour, unwanted tears on his own face, Trista stared furiously down the driveway.
Trista Gautier Johnson was determined to get rid of Neely Rivers. She snatched an umbrella and marched to the guest house. Neely, wearing baby-doll pajamas, opened the door, thinking Raif had forgotten something.
"We need to talk," said Trista, pushing past Neely and walking inside.
"What do you want to talk about?" asked Neely, a little perturbed. She stood with the door still open several seconds before realizing Trista was not leaving. She closed the door with a deep sigh.
"How dare you come in here and insinuate yourself into my mother's place?"
"That's not the case, Trista. Your mother is dead, and I'm very sorry for that. But Raif is alive. I love him. That's all I need to say to you."
"Then, you can listen. My father can do better than a trashy, slutty tattoo artist."
Neely's eyes grew wide. "I am not a slut. Your father is only the second man I ever made love to of my own volition. Little girl, get a clue."
"So, at least you admit to sleeping with him."
"Yes, Raif and I have made love, but there's nothing dirty or sordid about it."
"I know somebody as young as you cannot be in love with my father. God! He's old enough to be your father! Is that what you're after—a sugar daddy? Dad's loaded. So, are you after his money?"
Neely shook her head incredulously. "I love Raif. I would love Raif if he were living on the streets. Your father is extraordinary. Don't you realize that? Know this, too, Trista: I am not looking to be your mother, but being a friend would be nice."
"So, you want to marry my dad, then?"
"If Raif proposes to me, I will say, 'Yes.'"
"Well, keep hopping in the sack and get pregnant. He'll marry you for sure then. It's the only option in his old-fashioned mind."
Tears suddenly sprang to Neely's eyes. Trista noticed. She had hit a nerve. "I would love to give Raif a child, but I can't," Neely whispered. She wiped her eyes. "I can never have children thanks to being raped by five thugs and being sexually assaulted with a foreign object. Do you know how much I envy you? You really need to go back to the house now before this storm gets worse. I won't leave Raif no matter what you say to me. I love him, Trista."
For a moment Trista was speechless. Neely had never gotten angry, but she was hurt. Being unable to have children cut her to the quick. Trista did not know about Neely's attack. No one had told her the story.
Suddenly, lightning struck a tree nearby, plunging the cottage into darkness. The clouds were so black, it felt like night.
"I need to get back to the house," Trista said.
Neely said softly, "Maybe you should stay until the storm is over."
"Why would you invite me to wait the storm out here after the things I just said to you?"
"You're Raif's daughter."
"Still, I'm going back." Trista clutched her side. "Ouch!"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm sure. Ouch! Oh, my God! Neely, help me."
"What's wrong?"
"My water broke. It's a month too early."
Neely steered Trista to the sofa. "Sit down," she instructed. "I'll call 9-1-1."
The house phone was out. Neely had no cell reception. There was no way to call for help.
Outside, lightning flashed, torrential rain fell, and a power line between the cottage and the main house snapped.
Trista looked at Neely and worried. Oh, why was I so mean to this woman? What if she won't help me? Trista was terrified.
Neely covered her mouth in sheer panic that she wanted to hide from the girl. Is this my fault? All this tension with Raif. Lord, show me what to do.
Neely said gently, "Trista, lie down on the sofa. I can't get any help. We might have to do this alone. I'm gonna get towels and boil water. It's a good thing that the stove is gas."
Like the lost child she was, Trista whimpered, "Neely, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean."
Neely stroked Trista's hair. "Little girl, I'll take care of you. Don't worry. I don't hate you, darling. I know you've been through a lot. Trust me."
"Okay," Trista sniffled. "I want my daddy. I can't lose my daddy too."
"Oh." Tears threatened to spill from Neely's eyes. "I don't want to steal your father from you. Never. I wish I could get him, but I guess I'll have to do right now."
Neely headed to the kitchen and bathroom. She paused in the doorway. She realized the child on the couch was so angry because she was afraid of losing her father. Neely rounded up supplies she would need—the water, towels, a pair of scissors, and a chip clip that would have to suffice for clamping the umbilical cord.
The weather stayed stormy. Neely lit several hurricane lamps. Six and a half hours later, she delivered Christine Shay Johnson.
Two more hours passed before Neely was able to make a phone call.
Late that night, Trista was able to get a land-to-ship call to Townes, and Raif entered Trista's hospital room in distress. His daughter slept in the bed while Neely dozed in a chair. This was a sight Raif had never thought he would see.
Neely woke and came to him. She whispered, "Shh. Let her sleep. She's fine, and the baby's fine. The baby is premature and will have to stay a few days, but she's healthy. Trista talked to Townes. He won't be back for two more weeks. They named the baby."
"What do they call her?"
"Christine."
Tears dripped down Raif's cheeks. "It's a good name."
"That's not all. It's Christine Shay."
"Seriously? Your middle name?"
"Yes. Trista told me you want her to move out."
"I was angry when I said that."
"I know. Don't you dare send her away! She's scared, Raif. She's scared of losing you."
Her mother's voice waking her with, "Thank you," Trista moaned, "Dad?"
Raif took his daughter's hand and sat on the bed. "Yeah, baby. I got here as soon as I could."
"Neely took care of me."
"I know."
"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm fine with Neely. I was wrong about her, but you're still being hypocritical. Like you said, 'Truth is truth.'"
Raif looked at Neely. "Yeah, I guess you're right, baby. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"Dad, do you still want me to move out?"
"No, baby. I was angry when I said that. I'm sorry too. I'm so sorry I bruised your arm. I didn't mean to hold you so tightly. Please forgive me."
"You what?" said Neely, the shock heavy in her voice.
"Stop," said Trista. "I won't be the cause of a fight between the two of you. I know I pushed you too far, Dad. I mean, I hit you, but it's over. I forgive you. Will you forgive me for being such a monster?"
Raif pulled his daughter's head onto his shoulder. "Yes, I forgive you. I love you, Trista. I wish I could give you the world and keep you beside me as my little girl forever, but you're a grown woma
n now. Besides, Neely is going to need your help."
"Why?"
Raif stood and turned to Neely. He reached into his pocket. "Because I want her to marry me." He pulled out a box and opened it to show a thirteen-diamond cluster engagement ring. "I love you, Neely. You've made me live again. Will you marry me?"
Neely covered her face with her hands and cried. Raif gently pulled her hands apart. "Will you marry me?" he asked again.
Neely nodded. "Yes. A thousand times, yes."
Raif held the ring in his hand. "There are thirteen diamonds because we are both lucky thirteen's. I had it designed just for you." He slipped the ring on Neely's finger and took her face in his hands and kissed her. She slipped into a warm, safe embrace.
"Excuse me," said Trista. "May I say something?"
"Only if it's, 'Congratulations,'" Raif replied.
14
Knight Moves
Eau Boueuse had been hit by a tornado. Luckily, there had been no fatalities and the damage had been minimal. When the electricity was finally restored, the doctor released Trista, but for the next week, baby Christine stayed in incubation and the new mother made trips to the hospital every two hours to feed her daughter. Neely usually drove her and the two bonded.
Once the baby came home, Trista fell to helping Neely plan a wedding. "How big do you want it?" asked Trista.
"I don't have any family and only three close friends. Like you said, I'm sort of the Bohemian type. I want something simple, but meaningful."
"Neely, I'm sorry about the things I said about you. I think I used you as a scapegoat. I was so angry about my mother that I had to lash out at someone." The girl's voice came out strangled. "I miss my mother, Neely."
Neely took Trista's hand. "I know you do. I never got to know my mother. My memories of her are just little flashes. She died of breast cancer when I was three. My dad never married again. He raised me all by himself. When I was twenty-three, he had a massive coronary and died in my arms before the ambulance could get to him. I miss my father. I will have no one's arm to be on when I walk down the aisle."
Broken (The Raiford Chronicles #3 Book 1) Page 10
