by Karen Cimms
“Well?”
The frustration he’d been feeling that morning had taken over his arm, and at the rate he was beating the eggs, Devin might end up with a soufflé for breakfast.
“I just got a call from my producer. The single’s gone platinum. They’re expanding the tour.”
“That’s great. I’m confused, though.”
His mouth quivered as he poured the foamy mixture into a hot pan. “It’s all I ever wanted. But without your mother, it doesn’t seem important anymore. I’ve been hoping she’d hear the song on the radio and call or text me. Anything.” He shook his head and shrugged. “Well, at least you and I are cool now. I know I can’t go back and fix all those times I fucked up when you were a kid, but you know, I like where we’re at now.”
Devin set his cup down. “I’m proud of you, Dad. You weren’t always the best, but you sure as hell weren’t the worst.”
“A lot of good that does me. What’s that saying, too late smart? Whatever I am, I’m too late.”
“Maybe not.”
“It’s almost a year, and we’ve heard nothing from her. At least Tom says she’s okay. I would’ve lost my mind by now if I didn’t know anything. Some days I’m so fucking pissed that she left, but most of the time, I miss her so much I don’t care. I just want her back.”
Devin plucked a piece of toast from the toaster and slathered it with butter. “When does the tour start?”
“Not till the end of the month. I have to be in Portland by the twenty-fourth.”
“Oregon?”
“Maine. I’ve got two dates there, then Boston, New York, a few gigs in Pennsylvania, then Baltimore. I’ll be home for Thanksgiving. I guess we’ll go to Rhiannon’s, and then I head out again the following Tuesday.”
“Rhiannon’s, huh? I’m not eating tofurkey.”
“At least we’ll be together.” He poured himself a second cup of coffee.
Devin took a bite of his toast, then cleared his throat. “Look, you’re going to be pissed, but I’m going to tell you anyway.”
“I get that you want to spend Thanksgiving with Danielle—”
“It’s not that. It’s Mom.”
The hand carrying his cup paused halfway to his mouth. “What about her?”
“I know where she is.”
It was possible his heart might have stopped. “What?”
Devin pushed the plate of eggs away and glanced nervously at him from across the counter.
“I know where she is.”
“I heard that. Where?”
“She’s in Maine.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw her back in August.”
He slammed the cup down so hard coffee sloshed out, burning his hand and splashing onto the counter.
“You’ve known where she is and you didn’t say anything?” His voice was getting louder. “Does Rhiannon know?”
Devin shook his head. “No. Just me. Mom still doesn’t think she’s ready to deal with everything, and I promised not to say anything.”
“You mean me. She isn’t ready to deal with me.” He wanted to throw the mug across the room. “You need to tell me where she is.”
“I will,” Devin said, pulling out his wallet. He removed a slip of paper and handed it to him. The few words were jumping around, but Billy zeroed in on the most important one. “Cumberland? How far?”
“Just outside of Portland. About six, seven hours.”
He shoved the paper into his pocket and felt for his keys and his wallet. He stormed down the stairs and grabbed his helmet and jacket from the shelf near the back door.
Devin followed. “What’re you doing? You’re going now?”
Billy kicked the screen door open. “What the fuck do you think?”
He pounded down the walkway, Devin and the world around him a blur. There was one thing in his mind and one thing only.
Katie.
Half an hour later, he was soaring up Route 80 when he veered the Harley onto the shoulder and into the grass so hard he nearly upset the bike. His heart was racing. He was having trouble breathing. He yanked off his helmet and tossed it onto the grass. Leaning forward, he took in huge gulps of air.
He couldn’t believe it; he was having a fucking panic attack.
If he could slow his breathing, maybe his heart would follow. He walked toward a cluster of trees, ignoring the roar of the highway. When he’d calmed himself enough to speak without panting, he pulled out his cell phone.
Devin answered after four rings. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
Nothing. Shit.
“I shouldn’t have lost it like that. You did the right thing. You were protecting your mother. I’m proud of you. She raised you to be a good man.”
A few seconds of silence. “Thanks.”
“We were making progress. I hope I didn’t blow it.”
“I understand.”
Billy chuckled halfheartedly. “Do you? ’Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
“I get it, Dad. You’re worried.”
“I’m trying to do better. I am.”
“That’s the only reason I told you. If I hadn’t believed you were trying so hard and if I hadn’t seen for myself that she’s doing better, I never would’ve told you.”
“Is she . . .” He tried to speak around the rock lodged in his throat. “Is she really doing better?”
“Yeah. She is.”
“Good.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “I guess I’ll see for myself soon enough.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Hurt her again, and you and I are done. You understand?”
A sob escaped when he opened his mouth. “Understood.”
He tucked his cell phone into his pocket and dropped to the grass. He pressed his palms against his eyes to stop the tears, but it was no use.
The hurt and fear of the past ten months rushed him all at once. When he reached his destination, it might mean the end of months of living on edge and a chance to rebuild their marriage—or it might mean the end, once and for all. Either way, he had to be ready. Yet here he was, less than thirty minutes down the road, and he was already having a meltdown.
He wiped his face with the hem of his shirt and climbed back on the bike. He slipped on his helmet, adjusted the mirrors, and roared off toward the unknown.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“It’s going to rain.” Kate stood in the doorway leading into the house from the garage and watched Billy empty the contents of the dustpan into the garbage. “Do you want to bring your bike in?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Are you hungry?”
He ran a hand over his stomach, and she followed it with her eyes, her face growing warm at the memory of her own hand touching the skin beneath his T-shirt.
“Kind of. I haven’t eaten since this morning, but I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. Let me see what I can whip up.”
She was poking around in the refrigerator when he came inside.
“I’m trying to see how creative I can be. I don’t get much comp—” She averted her gaze, but not before she’d caught the look of hurt in his eyes. “Not that you’re company. It’s just . . .” Shut up, Kate. Just shut your mouth. She tried to smile but wasn’t quite sure she’d pulled it off.
“Anything is good. Toast, crackers. Just something to put in my stomach.”
“I can do better than toast.”
He sauntered into the dining room, stood in front of the patio door, and whistled softly. “This is amazing. What a view.”
For some reason, it made her happy that he liked it, which surprised her. She stopped rummaging long enough to follow his gaze.
“It is, isn’t it? You should see the sunrise. It comes up right over those trees. It’s beautiful.”
“May I?” Her legs felt rubbery when he smiled. “May I see the sunrise?”
She duck
ed her head back into the refrigerator and made a big show of pulling out a container of organic greens and a cucumber.
That answered the question of where he was staying.
“I guess,” she said, focusing on the salad ingredients and not the achingly beautiful man standing in her kitchen, “if you can get up early enough.”
Billy opened the slider and stepped out onto the deck. It was still clear enough to see the yard below, the garden, and the drop-off to the cove.
“Where’s the water?” he asked when she stepped out beside him.
“It’s low tide. By the time you get up, the tide will have come in, gone out, and come in again. It’s comforting. No matter what else happens, the tide comes in and goes out, and no matter how barren and muddy it looks, in just a little while, it will be beautiful again.”
“It’s beautiful now.”
He wasn’t looking at the view.
“Wait, you’ll see,” she answered, as if he were.
Billy scanned the rocking chairs on the deck, the colorful mums in the large containers, and the pool below. “A built-in pool?”
“Comes with the house. C’mon, I’ll give you a quick tour.”
She showed him the living room and took him downstairs and through the family room. They were headed outside when her cell phone began to ring.
“I’ll be right back.” She darted for the stairs. “I have a feeling this is someone I’ll want to speak with.”
“Go ahead. I’ll just poke around.”
She reached the phone just as it stopped ringing. Devin. Just as she suspected. She dialed his number.
“Hi, Mom!” He sounded forcibly chipper.
She dropped onto the edge of her bed. “Start explaining.”
“I guess he made it.”
“Why is your father here?”
“Look, Mom, I’m sorry I— You know what? I take that back. I’m not sorry.”
Trapped. And unprepared. She couldn’t deal with Billy yet and he knew it. “You promised.”
“And I meant it, but things have changed. We’ve changed.”
“I’m not ready—”
“Yes, you are,” he insisted. “And he’s ready. This can’t go on forever. You need to sit down and talk. You two aren’t the only ones in limbo here. Do you have any idea what it’s been like watching him the last ten months? At least he hasn’t been sitting around feeling sorry for himself—”
“Oh, I’m sure of that,” she answered snidely.
“Stop it, Mom. You wouldn’t let me say anything when I came to visit, but you need to listen now. He’s changed.”
She sighed. “You know what they say about leopards.”
“Bullshit! I’m not talking about leopards. I’m talking about my father. I’m talking about a man who’s done all the hard work this past year. He almost died when you tossed him out last summer. He OD’d on heroin. If I hadn’t found him when I did . . . Let’s just say we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Given the shape you were in back then, I probably wouldn’t have a father or a mother. Which is why we never told you.”
Jesus! Heroin? The room had begun to spin, her life somehow whirling past her along with it. Had she been that clueless? She groped for a pillow and crushed it in her arms, holding on for dear life.
“All he wanted was you. He kept asking for you, but I refused to let anyone call you. I’d had it with him by then. After you left, he was lost. We all were. He went straight into rehab, and then he made a deal with the DA and served his time. He’s been clean and sober since. He even goes to AA every day. I’m proud of him, Mom.”
“I didn’t know—”
“Of course you didn’t. And it’s okay, because you had to do what you had to do. I’m proud of you too, but it’s time you started facing reality. You have a family, and every one of us loves you, and we want you back. Even if you don’t want to be married anymore. That’s your business. I think Dad is finally at a point he can deal with that now without falling apart. If I didn’t believe that, I’d have never told him where you were.”
She gripped the pillow tightly. Maybe Devin was right. It was time to make a decision. She owed it to Billy, and she owed it to her children.
Most importantly, she owed it to herself.
“Are you okay?”
She cleared her throat. “I will be.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“No. But I’ll listen, and I’ll talk. That’s all I can promise.”
“That’s all I ask.”
She sat in the dark after hanging up, trying to gather her thoughts. Could Billy have changed that much? She had. Anything was possible.
There was a soft tap on the door. “Katie?” Billy pushed it open. “Everything okay?”
She released the pillow and set the phone on her nightstand. “I was talking with a very tall stool pigeon.”
“Did you tell him I made it?”
“Yeah. I told him several other things too.”
He chuckled. “I can imagine.”
“He told me a few things as well.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Billy stepped into the room and held up a plastic grocery sack. When its contents moved, she frowned.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Some old guy came to the door and said to give these to you. He said you’d know what to do with them.”
She peeked into the bag and rolled her eyes. “Harold.”
He opened the bag wider. “Which one is Harold?”
She laughed, and some of the tension slipped away. “No. Harold is my neighbor. Jeff’s father.”
“I introduced myself, but he said he already knew who I was. Then he shoved the bag in my hand.” He cocked an eyebrow. “He also said to tell you not to set them free.”
She laughed again and began moving toward the kitchen again. “Long story.”
“Doesn’t he know you don’t eat lobster?”
“Yes, but he knows you love them.”
“Wow. That was nice.”
“He can be a bit abrasive, but he’s been good to me. I’ll miss him.”
“I think he called me a damn hippie.”
“That’s Harold.”
Billy set the bag of lobsters on the kitchen counter. “Do you mind if I get out of these clothes?”
Was he kidding? “Um . . .”
“I’m still wet from getting caught in the rain, and I think I’m chafing.” He squirmed to prove how uncomfortable he was.
She felt her skin heat. “Oh. Sure. Why don’t you grab a hot shower? You can use my bathroom, and I’ll dry your clothes in the meantime.”
While he was in the shower, she pulled out a pair of cargo shorts Devin had forgotten. She also had one of Billy’s old shirts. She left them on the bed in the guest room.
She was waiting for the water to boil when he walked in wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist.
She gasped. “You startled me.”
“Sorry.”
Averting her eyes to look at anything but his toned and inked chest, she returned her attention to the lobsters crawling over each other in the kitchen sink. “I put some clothes for you on the bed in the guest room.”
“Whose clothes?” His voice turned tight.
“Devin left a pair of shorts, and I had an old shirt of yours. No underwear, unless you want to squeeze into a pair of mine.” She expected a remark about getting into her pants, but he didn’t bite.
“That’s okay. I’ll go commando.”
“We can run to the mall after we eat, but we’re going to be pushing it.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine. I’d rather spend the time with you. I didn’t drive all the way up here to go shopping.”
“Okay.” Two syllables. Even to her own ears, they seemed to be saying much more.
“I just wish I’d thought far enough ahead to grab a toothbrush.”
“That I can help you with.” She put a lid on the pot to help
the water boil faster and led him to the guest room. “There are the clothes. I think there are extra toothbrushes in the drawer in the bathroom.”
He made a face.
“Not used ones,” she added.
She flipped on the light in the small bathroom and rooted through the drawers until she found a handful of wrapped toothbrushes. “Here you go.” She held them up as she stepped into the bedroom. “You even have a choice of col—Billy!”
His back to her, he had dropped the towel and was slipping into the shorts. He zipped them up and turned around.
“Sorry.” The shorts hung low on his waist, exposing the head of the serpent inked on the sharp V below his waist and threatening to expose even more. Not that she hadn’t just gotten a bird’s-eye view of his ass.
He pulled on the shirt and sniffed the sleeve. “Do you still sleep in my shirts?”
It was embarrassing, but she felt compelled to answer honestly. “Sometimes. I only have the one. It stopped smelling like you a long time ago, but I still wear it.”
“It smells like you now.” Even in the dim light, she could see the flash of his smile. “Sweet and orangey.”
Warmth crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Her goddamn husband of twenty-four years was making her blush. Unbelievable.
“That water should be boiling by now,” she said, making a hasty exit.
He followed her into the kitchen and slipped an oven mitt on one hand. “I’ll do this.” The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile as he lifted the lid of the pot. “You’ve had enough drama for one day, and I’m too hungry to have to chase my dinner.”
She waved an index finger at him. “Just stick them in head first.”
He lifted a particularly feisty crustacean out of the bag. “Do they really scream?”
“I have no idea, but I don’t want to find out.”
Every time Kate looked away, Billy stole another glance. Twelve hours ago, he hadn’t known where she was. Now he was in Maine in a house on the ocean, and they were eating dinner. Together.
There was something different about her. Not just her hair, and she was still as beautiful as ever. She was different in other ways. Despite her initial distress at seeing him—and he didn’t blame her—he sensed an underlying confidence. It was a good thing, but it scared him. Could she have changed enough to realize life was easier without him or that she no longer loved him?
