A Valentine's Quest (The Valentine's Trilogy)

by Sam E. Kraemer

  Addy listened to me, nodding her head as I gave her my insights into the matter. She went back to stirring her broth, to which she'd added a lot of the fresh herbs I’d picked up at the store, and I went back to stirring the onions sautéing in butter.

  Eventually, she came to a conclusion, and she turned to me with a triumphant look on her lovely face. "I believe Miri and Tom should help them with Michael's therapy because they have the money to do it without blinking an eye, but I know Miriam Tucker like the back of my hand. She’s the type of person who would want to throw it up to them at every opportunity and then rule over their house, pointing out things she dislikes about the way they take care of their family.

  “Marisol won't allow it to happen because she’s a strong woman and she doesn’t need Miri’s criticism, but getting Miriam to agree to keep her mouth shut? I’m not sure St. Peter could get the point across."

  I stirred the onions and looked at Addy. "Well, I don’t know much about St. Peter, but I'd hope a good friend would point out to me maybe the best interests of the child were more important than being able to ride roughshod over my son’s family because I held money hostage for my grandson’s treatment.

  “I mean, Michael is the one in the middle of all of this who needs the help, and I understand Quinn and Marisol are very proud people and don’t want to depend on anyone for a handout. It’s going to be a bruise to their egos to accept the help anyway, so if she's planning to continuously throw it up to them how they couldn’t afford to do what’s best for their son without her help, they won't do it. In the end, who loses? Little Michael is who loses, right?"

  After several minutes of contemplation and stirring her stock, Addy finally nodded her head and went to the phone. "Watch the stove," she instructed as she picked up the receiver and called Miriam Tucker. The two proceeded to have a discussion, only half of which I could actually hear, so I did as Addy asked and watched the stove.

  When I heard heavy feet on the stairs, I knew it was Derek. He came into the kitchen and walked up to me. "Why didn't you wake me? I'd have loved to play around in my boyhood bedroom."

  "Gray, stir the broth," Addy reminded as she continued her discussion with Miri Tucker.

  "Right, Addy. Got it," I said, grabbing a wooden spoon to stir a pot on the stove, turning down the heat because the pot was about to boil over.

  After I turned down the burner, I looked at my handsome man, offering him a smile. "Sorry, babe, but your mom wants to get the turkey in the oven, and I promised to help her."

  "When did all this happen?" he asked.

  "I got up a few hours ago when I heard her down here. She and I have been working away, chatting together. She's talking to Miri about Michael. Did you know about it?" I asked.

  "Yeah. I told Quinn to talk to his mother but he said if they took the money, she'd hold it over their heads and…"

  "Miriam, you're being ridiculous. I'll give them the money for therapy, and I won't even tell them. I'll just put it in the mailbox, and I won't pester them. No, you don't have the right to tell them when the kids need haircuts or any of that other nonsense.

  “My goodness, Quinn's thirty years old. His hair is as long as my Derek's. It's a sign of respect to our heritage they grow it out as the old warriors did. I'd never consider telling my son, a detective with the Houston Police Department, I thought he should cut his hair. He's embracing the legacy of his ancestors, and I’m sorry to say you seem to have forgotten the way in which you were raised."

  Addy glanced over, seeing Derek standing next to me with shock apparent on his handsome face. "I have to go. It's time to make breakfast. Make this right and don't hold it against them. You'll lose more than you'll gain in this one, Miri. Happy Thanksgiving," Addy told her as she signed off and hung up the phone.

  Derek, being the smartass he could be, walked over to her and held his hand up to her forehead. "Seems normal. Are you okay? How many fingers?" he asked as he held up three.

  She smacked his hand down and turned to me. "I don't know how you put up with him." She walked out of the room without another word, and I laughed…loudly and happily. It seemed perhaps I'd learned the secret to dealing with Addy Valentine. If Grant Keyes was a stand-up guy, I might tell him, but for a little while, until I figured him out, I'd let him twist in the wind. God knew I'd done my fair share of twisting. It was nice to be off the pole.

  ##

  "Now, what is this, Gray?" Addy asked. We were in the great room watching the game on Rick's big screen, and I'd made a buffalo chicken dip along with some mushroom, goat cheese, and onion sliders. I used baby Portobello mushrooms and soaked them in balsamic vinegar and olive oil before I grilled them off. They were pretty damn good.

  "That's buffalo chicken dip. It's a cheesy dip, and it's not too spicy," I told her as she chewed. She was actually having a beer as she sat next to Rick on the couch. Derek and I were on the floor, my back against his chest as we watched the game.

  Grant wandered in with a very green-looking Cara. "What's the score?" Grant asked as he settled in a side chair with Cara on his lap. She was sipping what I assumed was ginger ale while chewing on crackers.

  "Not a surprise, Detroit's losing by twenty-one," Derek responded without looking away from the television. His left hand was on my stomach, making circles with his thumb, but as I glanced at him, I knew it was instinct. He wasn't paying much attention to me, and I didn't mind. I just loved feeling him next to me as he continued to show me love.

  I turned to Cara. "How does water with lemon sound? I've heard it helps. One of my professors is pregnant, and she drinks it all day long. She also eats those 'Lemonhead' candies. Something about stabilizing the blood sugar. Your mom has lemons in the fridge," I offered.

  Surprisingly, Grant touched her leg. "Sweetheart, it can't hurt to try. Nothing else is working. Want some?"

  She nodded as she stood up to allow him from under her. I started to get up when Derek grabbed me. "Where you going?"

  "I was going to show him where the lemons are," I explained.

  He snuggled me back into his chest and kissed the top of my head. "If he doesn't know what a lemon looks like, I feel very sorry for their unborn child. You stay right here where you belong."

  What could I say? The man was right. I was right where I belonged…in his strong and loving arms.

  Eight

  Gray

  After the quick breakfast Addy put together of French toast and sausage patties, Derek and I had gone upstairs to shower and change for dinner after everything was in the oven. My man supremely fucked me in the shower and bless him, he pulled out before he came so I wouldn't have to contend with leakage as we sat at the dinner table. I promised him a nice blowjob when we went to bed that night for being so considerate. I, however, painted the shower wall because that man's cock had radar when it came to my prostate. I felt like I came for days.

  We then changed into nice jeans and button-down shirts. We wore socks instead of shoes, knowing how much Derek’s mom didn't like shoes in her house. When we arrived in the kitchen, we interrupted a very passionate kiss between Rick and Addy.

  His hand was on her ass and she was in his arms, both of hers wrapped around his neck with a wooden spoon in her right hand. I started to push Derek out of the room, but he had other ideas.

  "Well, well. I can't kiss my man like that in front of company, but you two can get down and dirty in the kitchen? In front of the turkey, no less," he chastised as he pointed to the turkey tented in foil on the counter.

  Addy pulled away from Rick, who was smiling to beat the band. She, however, had a look of annoyance on her face. "You're a jackass, you know that? Your father was just showing appreciation for the meal Gray and I put together. Do you show him any appreciation?" She pointed that wooden spoon at Derek then me, and I kept my mouth shut at the amount of appreciation the man had shown me…about nine inches worth. It was his mother, after all.

  "As a matter of fact, I just did, Mom. We take very g
ood care of each other just like the example you and Dad set for me." He turned to me. "I'm appreciative, right?"

  I smiled and pulled him down, gently kissing his lips. When we pulled away, I grinned at him, looking into those beautiful brown eyes. "Yes, you are very appreciative. No worries there," I told the man I loved before I turned to his mother, seeing her gentle smile as well.

  Addy said, "At least I raised one of my children right."

  Before Rick could admonish her for her comment, as I thought he was about to do, Grant walked into the kitchen in a pair of khaki slacks, a blue button-down shirt, and a navy sports coat with bright brass buttons. It was expensive, definitely, and as he looked around, he had a look of concern and embarrassment on his face. "Oh, I see now what Cara meant by casual. If I can beg indulgence, I'll run upstairs and change," he requested.

  "We're not that fancy here," Addy began, coldly. Before she could say anything else, Rick had her in his arms with his hand on the back of her head, forcing her face into his shoulder.

  "You look very nice. It's nice you dressed up for us. We should probably have done the same to show Addy and Gray the respect they deserve for the great meal we're going to enjoy, but at the end of the day, we're a lazy bunch, and we like to be relaxed. Have a seat," Rick offered as he pointed to a chair at the table.

  Grant sat down, and I could clearly see how uncomfortable he was, so I took a deep breath and dove in, hoping I didn't take two steps backward when it came to Addy Valentine. "How's Cara feeling? Can I make you a drink? We have wine, beer, and spirits if you're interested," I offered.

  "I, uh, I wouldn't mind a vodka rocks with a twist, if you have it," the man stated quietly, obviously on unsure footing.

  "Sure thing," I offered in return as I walked over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out the vodka to make the man a drink. I peeled the rind off the lemon with a paring knife before I spiraled it and dropped the bright yellow twist into the glass I’d placed in front of him. Grant nodded his thanks, offering a polite, but nervous, smile.

  I turned to see Addy with a snarled look on her face. "Do you indulge in hard liquor often, Mr. Keyes?" In that moment, I wanted to be a fly on the wall for the discussion the previous night when we’d been at the Tuckers’ house. I'd bet it was a doozy.

  Grant Keyes nearly choked on the sip of his drink, so I handed him a paper napkin to wipe his mouth. "No, Mrs. Valentine, I don't but it's a special occasion and if I've offended you, I'm sorry. Seems I can't exactly meet the curve here because the rules seem to constantly change."

  His apologizing to her wasn't going to win him any points I could see immediately, just like standing up to her wasn't going to win her over. I was just figuring her out, and I'd been around for several months. Apparently, he'd been around a while as well, but Cara hadn’t brought him around her parents for the very reason we were witnessing, I was guessing.

  Grant hadn’t had the privilege of meeting the parents, and with the news they'd dropped the night before about a baby? I was pretty sure he was going to be treated like shit for years to come, that was if he even lasted in the family.

  I elbowed Derek, who hadn’t said a fucking word, the coward. I looked at Rick and cocked an eyebrow. "Not a problem, Grant. I might join you. Gray would you mind?" he asked as he pointed to the vodka in front of Grant. I nodded and made another drink, handing it to Derek's father.

  The two men toasted, and as I turned to Addy, I could tell she wasn't happy about the situation, so I felt the need to do something. I cleared my throat, "Derek, why don't you and Rick set the table, and Grant, maybe you should go check on Cara. Dinner should be ready in about half an hour," I explained.

  They scattered like dust in the wind, and when it was just me and Addy, she was so mad she was shaking. "Now, Miss Addy, you're a fine Cherokee woman. Don't let that Yankee get the best of you. Tell me what to do so we can get this grand meal on the table," I suggested, trying like hell to diffuse a volatile situation if I’d ever seen one.

  Finally, she nodded and we got to work putting the food on the table. When everyone was seated, Addy sat down next to Rick and held out her hands. “Let’s say grace. Grant, as the newest member of the family, would you mind?” I glanced at Derek to see he was just as surprised as me, and when Rick started coughing, I had to bite the inside of my jaw not to laugh.

  Grant swallowed and began speaking. “Heavenly father, thank you for this day and the food prepared for the nourishment of our bodies. Please protect all of us as we go our separate ways. Amen.” I turned to see Addy’s face was glowing and Rick was about to fall on the floor laughing. Obviously, Grant Keyes wanted away from the family and wasn’t above asking for a blessing to get him the hell out of the line of fire. I prayed plates and glassware didn’t start flying. Amen.

  ##

  Dinner was full of small talk about mundane bullshit instead of the topic weighing on everyone’s mind, thankfully. Rick was talking about the insurance business, God love him, and I think only Grant and I were listening. The two men discussed the impact hurricanes and other natural disasters had on the climbing insurance rates, and I was actually surprised to learn when a hurricane hit the east coast, my insurance rates, if I had anything to insure, would rise to cover the spread, so to speak. I wasn't exactly thrilled to hear about it, but it was yet another life lesson I was to learn.

  Cara hadn't said a handful of words throughout the whole meal, and the way she was shifting food around her plate was understandable if she was sick all the time. She wasn't looking her mother in the eye, but Addy wasn’t really speaking either. If I was a betting man, I’d suspect there was some guilt in the mix on both of their parts, but I wasn’t stupid enough to remark on the matter.

  My Derek, however, was totally oblivious to all the matters at play at the Thanksgiving table because he was just happy to be spending time with his family. Without any consideration for the politics at hand, he walked out onto that plank without a lifejacket, and I wished I’d have stopped him. "So, Cara, when's the wedding? We'll both need to make plans for time off to come home…I mean if you're inviting us."

  Derek was just joking, but apparently, it was ill-timed because suddenly, Cara began sobbing. She ran out of the dining room and up the stairs, and we all heard the bedroom door slam violently. I saw Rick look around the table, and he wasn't happy at all when he turned to look at his son. "Derek, was that meant to be antagonistic because your sister’s wedding isn’t going to be…" he began.

  Grant held up his hand. "Mr. Valentine, Derek and Gray weren't here last night, so they're unaware of the wedding plans. I don't mind him asking. I'm hoping Derek will agree to be an usher at the ceremony.

  “I also hope he and Gray will respect my parents’ unease with alternative lifestyles and not flaunt their relationship at the wedding. I mean, my family is paying for the entire nuptial weekend, so it would be disrespectful for you to give inordinate displays of affection with all of my family’s friends in attendance.

  “Believe me, I’m fine with their choices to be in a relationship together, but my parents aren’t so open minded. It’s not meant as anything discriminatory or hateful, but maybe you can stay at one of the other hotels in town?" the man stated as he looked at the two of us, his patronizing tone and smile meant to mollify us into accepting the invitation to hide our love from his precious family. It wasn’t exactly to my liking, but I kept my mouth shut because it was Derek’s family.

  Grant then turned to look at Derek. "The wedding is set to take place at my parents' country house in Connecticut. My mother's been slaving away at creating the perfect afternoon party at their estate. As you know, time is of the essence, so the date has been set for the Saturday before Valentine's Day, hopefully before Cara starts to show.

  “I'll send texts to everyone regarding the event’s agenda, and accommodation information. We've rented out a nice B&B for most of the guests who won’t be staying at the house, but of course, you two should feel free to seek your own a
ccommodations so you’re not uncomfortable with being around my family and friends," Grant explained.

  The conversation wasn’t heading in a conciliatory direction, and I felt uneasy about it so I decided to leave the room. "If you'll excuse me for a minute," I offered as I rose from the table and hurried upstairs.

  Once I was in the second-floor hallway, I knocked on Cara's bedroom door, hearing her sobs echoing off the walls inside. Something wasn’t right with regard to her relationship with Grant Keyes, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it. Of course, as I'd witnessed in my own family, nobody in the Valentine family was going to address the monkey in the corner, outright.

  "Go away," I heard a tearful voice. I opened the door anyway and walked inside, closing it behind me. I rested my back against the door, my hands on the doorknob in the event she really wanted me gone. Seeing her full out sobbing on her bed, curled up into the smallest ball she could, I knew she needed to talk, so I relaxed a little.

  "That's probably not good for your baby," I stated as I crossed my arms over my chest, continuing to observe her demeanor.

  Cara looked over to where I stood and gave me a little grin through her tears. "Which part? The part where my parents hate my fiancé? The part where I fucked up my pills and got pregnant? The part where I'm going to have a wedding in Connecticut with people I don't know and none of my family will attend? The part where I'm sure I'm going to be a severe disappointment to Grant's parents who we're flying up to meet on Saturday? Yes, I'm sure none of it is good for my baby," she told me as she rubbed her non-existent bump.

  "Then stop it. Stand up for yourself, for hell’s sakes. If you don't tell Grant what you really want with regard to a wedding, then what kind of life are you going to have with the man, Cara?"

  She laughed without humor. "It's easy for you and Derek. You guys don’t have the pressure Mom puts on me. I’m expected to be a successful lawyer and give her grandchildren. Nobody expects these things from you."

  I walked over to her and pulled her small frame on my lap. "Do you not remember the fight we had last night with your mother, you and me? Derek and I want a baby sometime, and your mother wants grandchildren but doesn’t want them from us. This little one? Addy’s probably over the moon about this baby, Cara, but she’s confused about everything, I’d guess," I told her as I placed my hand on her stomach, "but your future husband is a bit intimidating and demanding. You know your mother doesn't like to be treated with disrespect. Hell, you grew up with the woman so you know that better than me. Grant tends to come across with the attitude of his way is the only way, and you know Addy. That’s not going to fly with her.