by J. D. Mason
She knew that it was. Time was so short, and soon it would be gone and … and she needed to find it before it was too late. In frantic haste and without realizing why, she headed for a door, and suddenly, she was outside. Was it here? The darkness was suffocating and thick. She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t. It was here. Out here. It had to be. But where? Oh, Jesus! Where?
Buried.
“What?”
The dirt under her feet started to soften, like mud, but warm.
Buried. Deep.
She looked down at her feet, but of course, she couldn’t see them. It was too dark, and the ground was starting to swallow her.
Abby suddenly opened her eyes.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” she said over and over again, blinking and bracing herself, trying to get her bearings. It took several moments for her to grasp where she was. Abby choked back panic and fear and confusion. The sun was just starting to come up, and after a few moments, she realized that she was standing outside in her backyard.
Ever After
“I MUST SAY,” OLIVIA Gatewood said admiringly as Robin entered the room and sat down, “your pictures do not do you justice, dear.” She smiled and clasped her elegant hands together.
“I must say the same about you, Mrs. Gatewood.” Robin smiled.
Jordan’s mother was stunning. Her silver-streaked hair was cut short and flawlessly styled. She was draped in a multicolored silk chemise that brought out the golden glow of her beautiful complexion.
Robin had been summoned.
“Thank you for agreeing to visit,” Mrs. Gatewood said as the server set a tray down between them with two delicate teacups and saucers and a small porcelain pot. “Do you take sugar and milk with your tea?”
“No, ma’am.”
The invitation had come quite unexpectedly. The only thing that made sense was that Jordan had told his mother about her. In the past month, Jordan had been more attentive and committed to making this relationship work than he had been in all the months of their relationship previously, and no one was more surprised than Robin.
The server poured the tea and waited patiently as Olivia surveyed the presentation and then dismissed her with a polite “Thank you. That’ll be all for now.”
She picked up her saucer and cup, carefully brought the warm liquid to her lips, tasted it, and then sighed.
“I suppose that you were taken aback by my invitation?”
Robin smiled. “A bit, Mrs. Gatewood, but pleased by it.”
She laughed. “Please. Call me Olivia,” she insisted warmly.
Robin had grown up around women like this. She remembered being a small child and watching her grandmother entertain her friends over tea poured in porcelain cups with lumps of sugar dissolving in them.
“Yes, Olivia,” she responded.
Olivia carefully placed her drink down on the table and casually leaned back, crossing one lean leg over the other. “I will get straight to the point, Robin,” she said, squinting her lovely eyes slightly to express the seriousness of her intent. “When I found out that my son had been spending time with a woman consistently for more than a few weeks, my curiosity was piqued,” she said playfully. Olivia laughed.
Robin laughed softly, too. “I certainly understand.”
Robin took a sip of the tea. It had a lovely floral scent and flavor to it. “Jasmine?”
Olivia nodded. “My favorite. I’ve seen pictures of the two of you in the papers and on that tablet computer he bought me. The two of you make a lovely couple.”
Robin marveled at this polite and engaging woman. A year ago, Olivia Gatewood had put two bullets in her son’s back, and Jordan had nearly died. The papers had said she’d had a psychotic episode. But Robin would never know it from sitting here with her now.
“Thank you, Olivia,” she said, genuinely touched.
The woman’s expression softened. “Ever since the death of his wife, he’s been lost and lonely.”
Robin nodded her acknowledgment.
“I’ve hoped that he would meet someone, maybe fall in love and give me some grandbabies.” She smiled.
Robin, surprisingly, blushed.
“Like any mother, I want more than anything to see my children happy.”
“Of course,” Robin agreed.
“Is he happy with you?”
Robin was caught off guard by the question and the abrupt but subtle change in the woman’s demeanor.
“I believe he is. Yes.”
Happy wasn’t quite the right word to use for Jordan’s current state of being with Robin. He was resigned to this relationship. But that was none of Olivia’s business.
Olivia’s stern gaze pressed hard on Robin. “How come I’m not convinced?”
Robin’s expression must have spoken volumes.
“Yes, dear. Let’s stop being polite,” Olivia said casually. “I know my son even better than he knows himself, though he never sees fit to give me the credit I deserve.”
Robin’s own defenses were suddenly on high alert. “So, you asked me here because you screen all your son’s love interests?”
Olivia laughed. “If I believed he loved you, you likely wouldn’t be here.”
Robin quickly weighed her options. She could sit here and go at it with a senior citizen, or she could leave. She picked up her purse to go.
“Not yet,” Olivia said sternly. “I’m not finished.”
“Maybe I am,” Robin retorted angrily.
“And I thought you were different,” she said curtly. “The problem with Claire—lovely, sweet Claire—was that she had no backbone to speak of. She was a jellyfish, one that my son trampled on regularly, and yet she stayed, she loved, she sacrificed for him until she was empty. I was just about to give you some credit for having a spine, beautiful Robin.”
It was true. Olivia Gatewood was insane.
“Of course I can see the disdain he feels for you behind his eyes, even when he’s smiling. You don’t see it because you choose not to,” she said smugly. “Perhaps you believe that he can grow to love you over time, that he will forget how you trapped him into this relationship.”
“What makes you think that I had to trap him?” she said defensively.
Olivia looked as if Robin had just insulted her. “I know the look all too well, Robin,” she said, sounding surprisingly solemn. “It was the same look in his father’s eyes when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.”
Robin felt as if this woman had kicked her in the stomach.
“I’m not so old, girl. And despite what everyone wants to believe, I am not so crazy. Jordan emulates his father in ways he doesn’t even realize. He’s idolized him without meaning to. He worships him, and sometimes, I swear, they share a soul.”
“Why did you ask me to come here?” Robin asked, clenching her teeth.
Olivia casually picked up her teacup again and took another patient sip. “If you’re going to play this game, you’ll need to be diligent. Allow him his frivolities and toys. Courage is key, Robin. Remind him to respect your position in his life,” she warned. “But know that the more you tighten the leash, the harder he’ll buck against you.”
“You’re talking about affairs? You’re telling me to let him have affairs?”
“I’m telling you that he will have them. I’m telling you that if he doesn’t love you now, he never will.”
“Excuse me for asking, Olivia,” she challenged, “but wasn’t your husband killed in the house of his mistress?”
If Olivia Gatewood wanted to play dirty, then Robin would get down in the mud with her.
Surprisingly, Olivia’s demeanor softened. “You believe that I’m the last person you should be listening to about relationships.”
“I do.”
Olivia sighed. “Hindsight is the best teacher, Robin. And I have more lessons behind me than I do ahead of me. You are certainly a lovely woman who apparently is determined to be with my Jordan. And I certainly hope that it pans out, for
his sake.”
Robin stared at her like she actually was crazy. “What exactly are you saying, Olivia?”
“Contrary to what he believes, I don’t want to see him dead. And trust me, neither do you.”
Robin needed to get the hell away from this woman.
“I don’t know what you have on him, but whatever it is, I would suggest that you make sure that all your demons are hidden well.”
“I have no demons,” Robin said bitingly.
Olivia smiled. “No, dear. Of course you don’t.”
Ordinary Pain
“ONCE AGAIN, YOU HAVE OUTDONE YOURSELF.”
Jordan and Robin had just finished having dinner at Lamont’s, one of the best, if not the best, seafood restaurants in Texas. He led the way out onto the enclosed patio afterward, where they were immediately met by one of the servers.
“Two cognacs,” Jordan ordered. “Please.”
Robin purred like a cat, then sat down luxuriously on the tufted velvet sofa, crossed her legs, and twirled a strand of her hair around her finger.
“It’s been a lovely evening, Jordan,” she continued. “You’ve been your usual attentive, engaging, and generous self.”
Jordan took his drink from the server and took a sip as he stared out the window. “Thank you,” he said to Robin.
“So, after this, you’ll take me back to my place, walk me to the door, and kiss me good night, I suppose.”
Jordan didn’t bother to respond. She knew the drill.
“Don’t you ever want to make love to me, Jordan?”
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been expecting this topic to come up in conversation. Still, he wasn’t interested in discussing it. Jordan took another sip of his drink and turned slowly. Robin was a vision of beauty slinked across that sofa.
“You’ve got a noose around my neck, sweetheart,” he said with a slight smile. “It’s not so easy to get it up under that kind of pressure.”
“For another man,” she said seductively, “I’d have to agree.” Robin stood up, made her way over to him, and pressed against him until he leaned back against the window. “But for you”—she ran her finger across his lower lip—“let’s just say, I think it’d take a lot more than a noose to keep you down.”
Jordan couldn’t help but to stare at her in disbelief. “I am giving you the performance of a lifetime, Robin. You wanted the world to see you on the arm of your knight in shining armor, and I am showing you off like the queen you are. Surely, you understand that patience is needed here. Baby steps. You don’t rush something that you want to last forever.”
Robin took a hesitant step back, then turned and went back to the sofa, sat down, and sipped on her cognac. She had him where she thought she wanted him, but maybe she was starting to see that Jordan wasn’t exactly the prize she thought he was. And she certainly wasn’t the prize he’d hoped for.
“Do you still think about her?” she begrudgingly asked.
“Yes.”
She looked at him. “The least you can do is lie about it.”
“There’s no place for lies between you and me, Robin,” he said dismissively. “We’re building this relationship on trust,” he said sarcastically.
“That being said, I would love to know what it was that you saw in her?”
Robin’s jealously shadowed her lovely face.
Jordan thought and chose his words carefully before finally responding. Abby soothed that beast in him that Robin had awakened and that he’d hoped he’d long since buried. Jordan could let his guard down with her because she bore him no ill will. She had no agenda other than to love him, and she wasn’t the enemy. She was like Claire in that regards, only instead of taking those qualities for granted the way he’d done with his wife, Jordan had a second chance to embrace and relish them.
He glanced at Robin and realized that she was studying him. “She had nice jugs.” He shrugged.
Robin didn’t seem to find his answer funny. But no matter. What Jordan saw in Abby was none of Robin’s damn business. Neither was the fact that he missed the hell out of Abby. Jordan had made a deal with this devil, that he’d stay away from the woman he loved for the rest of his life, but with each passing day, he knew that it was fast becoming an impossible promise to keep.
“I met your mother earlier today,” she said, clearing her throat and effectively changing the subject.
“So I was told.”
She looked surprised that he knew.
“Does she screen all your women?” she asked sarcastically.
“She does the best she can.”
“Still a momma’s boy even after she tried to kill you?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“What if I were to tell you that I don’t think your mother is crazy? What if I were to say that I think she knew exactly what she was doing when she shot you?”
“I’d say that you are a very astute woman and as brilliant as you are beautiful.”
“And yet, she’ll never see a day inside a courtroom for attempted murder. You Gatewoods are experts at skirting the law. Aren’t you?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said casually.
“But I know enough.” She tilted her chin slightly. “Don’t I?”
Jordan stared at her.
“I want marriage, Jordan. I want a ring and an engagement. I want a big wedding with all our family and friends in attendance.” Robin paused and waited for him to … what? To protest? To draw a line in the sand? “I want to honeymoon in Bali, and I want children.”
“I want those things, too. Just not with you,” he said.
The three drinks he’d had tonight were finally starting to catch up with him, thankfully. That icy stare of hers would’ve chilled another man to the bone. Jordan had cognac to warm his.
His insult registered a bull’s-eye with his date.
“You need to tread lightly, Jordan,” she warned.
Robin was pissed. Robin’s feelings were hurt, but he didn’t give a damn. Jordan was sick of playing this role for her. Robin had crawled into the hornet’s nest, and if she insisted on pushing this agenda, then she’d have to contend with the stings.
“You came for me,” he responded maliciously. “Maybe you need to truly understand what that means.”
“Are you calling my bluff? Do you think that I won’t follow through on my threat to expose you?”
He studied her. “I’m wondering how far that threat of yours will get before it blows up in your face, Robin.”
She had her theories, her speculations of Jordan’s involvement in Lonnie’s death. Jordan had a team of the best attorneys at his disposal, acquaintances in all the right places, including the media and the Dallas Police Department, who could turn her little story into a fairytale with one phone call.
She stood up and walked over to him. “Is marrying me so distasteful that you’d take the chance and risk everything just to be with your little country mouse? Do you really think she’d take you back now?”
“I’d take the chance just to be away from you.”
Robin turned, walked back over to the table, picked up her glass, and took another sip of the caramel-colored liquid. Slowly, she turned to him. “We should start having children right away,” she continued with tears glistening in the rims of her eyes. “I don’t want a big wedding,” she said with resolve. “Something small. Intimate.”
“What part of it’s not going to happen don’t you understand?”
She rushed over to him and stopped. Her hand came out of nowhere and landed hard against the side of his face. “You selfish sonofabitch!”
Jordan glared at her. “I’m the sonofabitch that you wanted.”
“Was she supposed to have been your savior, Jordan? That sweet little thing, innocent and naïve about the kind of man you really are?” She leaned in close enough for him to feel the warmth of her breath against his face. “Did she even know the kind of evil that you’re truly capable of?” Robin leaned back and laug
hed. She stared quizzically at him, as if seeing him for the first time. “I think I get it,” she said introspectively. “You showed her the Jordan that you wanted to be. Mr. Clean Slate and Second Chance. You nearly died but didn’t, and now life has taken on new meaning, and you finally get the chance to reinvent yourself, to redeem yourself. Abby Rhodes was a means to an end. A prop. You were brand new with her. Is that it?”
She stepped back, walked back over to the table, and picked up her glass. “Cheers, Jordan,” she said, raising it in a toast. “Cheers to having the audacity to believe that you are the good guy, the man of her pathetic, little dreams. Cheers for believing that you almost had everything you dreamed of.”
She’d done it again. Robin had managed to find that nerve he believed he’d thoroughly tucked away and never have to tap into again. Jordan had demons, plenty of them. And, yes, there were things about him that Abby could never know.
“But I’m who you deserve,” she admitted bitterly. “You and I are two peas in a pod,” Robin continued. “The sooner you realize that, the sooner you’ll open up and allow yourself to accept it.”
Jordan’s phone rang. It was Phyl, and he put her on speaker, for Robin’s benefit, of course.
“Yes?” he answered, pulling it from the inside pocket on his sport coat.
“Hey, Mr. G.” Phyl sighed. “Sorry to be calling so late, but I finally managed to finish that report you asked for. I just wanted you to know it’s your in-box.”
“Thank you, Phyl. Get some rest.”
“Yep. G’night.”
He hung up.
Two peas in a pod. That they were. Only Robin had a way of resting on her laurels that Jordan never could manage to do. One-upmanship. He’d always been too competitive for his own good, and he’d always been too stubborn to lie down in defeat, even when it was clearly obvious that he had lost. But he was a fighter. Fighting was what he did and would always do until he took his last breath.
Water
“FOR THE LAST TWO NIGHTS, I’ve been staying at the hotel,” Abby explained, sitting on Marlowe’s couch in her living room. “I don’t sleepwalk, Marlowe,” she said earnestly. “I never have in my life, but I woke up outside in the backyard in my panties and T-shirt, and I had no idea how I’d gotten there.”
