by Brenda Novak
“He did. Said she blamed herself for the rift between us.”
“That surprises me.” Unclasping her hands, she wiped her palms on her jeans. “Maybe she was closer to him than we thought,” she said, just to see how her brother might respond.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem to place much importance on her comment. “Maybe,” he agreed. “But the bottom line is that we couldn’t get along. And I’m sure it wasn’t all her fault. Some of it was my own insecurities and immaturity and how much I resented her control and manipulation.”
“Don’t gloss over the pain she caused. That was at the root of everything.”
“But which came first, the chicken or the egg? I was a difficult kid. Could be I provoked her.”
“She beat Rocki, too, when she was Annabelle.”
“She didn’t beat you.”
“I came last, and I was dead set on staying out of her way. You defied her.”
“That’s what I’m saying. I kind of asked for it.”
“There were certainly times... But she was the adult, and she went too far.”
He didn’t seem entirely convinced.
“It’s true,” she insisted.
“I’m willing to accept my share of the responsibility. The helplessness was the worst, feeling I couldn’t take control of my own life. Doing so has made a big difference.”
“We all have to set boundaries.” She took his hand. “So...does this newfound optimism and strength mean you’re not tempted to relapse?”
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind at least once a day.” He offered her a rueful and yet endearing smile. “But I can overcome the temptation. I don’t need to escape the life I’m living. I’m becoming more and more satisfied with what I’m doing and who I am.”
She wished that was enough to reassure her. But he didn’t know that everything he’d come to terms with was about to be upended. “Still, Mom’s death and all of this with Landon...that’s not going to set you back?”
“I don’t get it, either.” He shrugged as if his reaction was inexplicable. “I’m concerned. I’m sad. I’m angry. I’m determined. I’m dealing with a lot of emotions. But I’m okay in a way I’ve never been before.”
What she knew would probably reverse all the progress he’d made. With a heavy heart, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Then that’s the ray of sunshine we hang on to.”
She just hoped it would carry him through.
17
“I WANT TO see you. Have you decided yet?”
Nancy shouldn’t have answered Keith’s call, but she’d felt such a surge of excitement when she saw his name that she’d picked up despite her better judgment. Now her eyes inadvertently shifted to the bags of lingerie she’d left on her kitchen table. She planned to take everything back. She’d thought that might help her resist him...
But those things hadn’t been returned yet.
“It’s not even six o’clock, and you’re already asking for an answer?” she said.
“Do I have to wait until a certain time?”
“We just had lunch a few hours ago.”
“So? What are you doing for dinner? I’ll take you to Charleston.”
Oh, boy. He was pouring on the charm. Nancy didn’t know a woman who could refuse him when he did that. But she had to learn from experience. Had to guard her heart. “I was heading over to my father’s. I make dinner for him and Jade every Saturday.”
“Great. I’m in.”
She hesitated. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?” If anything, she’d expected him to try to convince her to cancel. He’d never been interested in her family, hadn’t cared to spend any time with them—which was part of the reason her stepfather had warned her not to get involved with him. According to Martin, that kind of behavior said a lot about a man, as well as that man’s level of interest in a woman.
Her stepfather’s logic had been sound, but nothing she’d been willing to hear back then. She was determined to be smarter this time, since Keith had proved him right before.
“No, I’m serious. What’re we having? Any chance you’re making that Mexican steak dinner you used to make?”
She hadn’t intended to make her Mexican steak dinner, but it was easy enough to do. She could change her plans. But why would she? The fact that she’d even consider it made her mad at herself. She was already trying to please him. “No. I’m making my taglierini dish.”
“The one with tomatoes and garlic?”
She’d often cooked for him. Although she’d enjoyed it, she’d also felt she’d had to cook to compete with the professional chef his mother had hired at Coldiron House. Josephine’s standards were so high—for everything—Nancy had felt she’d never measure up. And Josephine had made it abundantly clear that she agreed.
Still, Nancy had tried, had given it every effort, and there’d been times when she’d succeeded in making life a great deal easier for Keith. She was just surprised all of that hadn’t meant anything to him in the end.
It said something that he remembered those meals, though. “That’s the one.”
“I like that, too. When should I come over?”
“To eat or to help with the cooking?” she countered.
If the challenge put him off, he didn’t show it. “To help, of course. I’m ready now if you want.”
“Fine. Come pick me up.”
“I’m on my way.”
He hadn’t balked at anything. Nancy was smiling when she hung up, even though she wasn’t sure how her stepfather would react to having Keith in his house.
* * *
Landon walked into the house before supper. But he didn’t kiss Rocki or tease her as he usually did. He didn’t pull her down on the couch with him, either. He showered, did a few things outside, judging by various noises around the house, and came inside when she called everyone to the table.
Although he was quiet throughout the meal, he also seemed a little less defensive than he’d been before. It probably helped that Rocki hadn’t said another word about his trip to Fairham. She’d showered, put on her makeup and made pot roast. Although Zac was home, Chloe was still out. Rocki knew their son would go to his room and play on his computer after dinner—weekends were the only time she allowed computer games—which would give her and Landon a few hours alone. She was looking forward to clearing the air, to finally understanding what he thought and felt. How was he the injured party if he was also the one who’d lied?
She couldn’t answer that question, but she promised herself she wouldn’t be accusatory. Although he’d been acting strange ever since her mother’s Christmas party, he’d been much worse the past week. They needed to find common ground again, needed to get back to where they’d always been. Her marriage had never felt fragile to her before, but everything she’d taken for granted suddenly seemed to be in jeopardy. Was Landon unhappy with her? Had she missed signs she should’ve seen? Had he fallen out of love? If so, when? Was this serious enough to tear them apart? Or something they’d be able to work through?
With a shake of her head, she tried to pull herself out of the doldrums. Of course they’d be able to overcome their problems. A marriage as good as hers didn’t collapse in a few days—or even a month.
“The pot roast is delicious, Mom. I love it when you make this.”
Rocki smiled at her son. “I’m glad. I also made a chocolate cake.”
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “Is it someone’s birthday?”
“No. I just thought it’d be nice to have dessert for a change.”
Zac wrinkled his nose. “Dessert to you is usually fruit.”
“Because I happen to care that refined sugar and processed food aren’t healthy for you. Mothers are like that, you know. Besides, you like fruit.”
“Not as much as I like cake—especially when it has tons of frosting!”
Landon glanced at their son’s plate. Zac was avoiding his carrots and peas and filling up on bread. Normally, Landon would’ve said something, but tonight he didn’t, and Rocki ignored it, too. She was trying to stay positive, which was something of a chore, since Landon wasn’t contributing to the conversation. She struggled to carry it herself, to keep Zac occupied so he wouldn’t feel the strain. She asked about his visit with his friend and where they’d gone skateboarding. Then she recounted a story she’d seen in the paper about a dog that had saved his human—a five-year-old child who’d fallen through the ice into a lake.
Relieved when Zac finally carried his plate to the sink and went to his room, Rocki stood up to clear the table.
Landon helped her do the dishes. But they danced around each other as if they were polite strangers, careful not to touch. Rocki hated the strangeness of it all, wished she could smash through his sudden reserve. Where was the man she’d married?
As soon as they finished, he went into the living room and turned on SportsCenter. He was avoiding her. She wanted to follow him, to turn off the TV so she could try talking to him again. But Zac was still awake and could possibly hear if the conversation erupted into another heated argument.
Forcing herself to leave Landon alone, she went into the bedroom and picked up a mystery novel. She usually loved to read, but tonight she couldn’t concentrate. The lines blurred together until, mercifully, her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.
* * *
At worst, Nancy had expected her stepfather to be unfriendly to Keith—at best, remote. But she had seriously underestimated Keith’s ability to win people over. Martin Dellinger had melted like butter on a hot sidewalk, and it had taken only a few minutes, just long enough for Keith to shake his hand, sit down with him on the couch and begin a conversation about the Gamecocks, her father’s favorite college football team. She could hear them trying to remember which players would be returning, who would start, if the coach would be replaced, if they’d have a better season. Keith had mentioned helping her cook, but she hadn’t been serious when she’d acted as if she was counting on that. Taglierini didn’t take long, and he’d just get in her way, so she’d insisted he visit with Martin while she made dinner.
Jade came home from a friend’s house not long after Nancy had started pressing the garlic cloves that went into the pasta sauce, and made a beeline for the kitchen.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” she whispered as the kitchen door swung shut behind her.
Nancy put a finger to her lips even though the men were in the other room and her sister was speaking softly. “Nothing. We’ve decided to be friends. That’s all.”
“Friends? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Of course it does.”
“Then what’s he doing here?”
“He’s here for dinner. What do you think?”
“He doesn’t need to be here for dinner. He has a housekeeper who cooks.”
“Pippa doesn’t work on weekends—not unless he makes special arrangements with her.”
“So that means he’s helpless? He’ll starve without you?”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “I’m guessing he didn’t want to eat alone.”
“He could always eat with his sister! Last I checked, she lived on the island, too. And she has kids he might enjoy seeing. Yet he chose you.”
“I don’t know why he asked to come!” she finally admitted. “It’s a mystery, okay?”
“He wants to be with you!” Jade said. “Admit it!”
Nancy didn’t need her sister working against her. She’d be foolish to get her hopes up. She couldn’t win Keith’s true affection. She’d already tried everything—let him live with her, slept with him, cooked for him, lent him money. None of that had made any difference. He’d been with her before only because he was hitting rock bottom and had no one else. Why would he choose a simple flower arranger, who had no money or influence to speak of, when he was now on top and no longer needed that kind of support?
With a scowl to show she disagreed that this meant anything at all, Nancy went back to pressing garlic. “No. Not in the way you think.” He’d expressed sexual interest, but even that didn’t mean anything. He’d slept with her before. Now that he’d stumbled back into her orbit, he wanted to fall into bed with her again. He wasn’t geographically near the women he’d been sleeping with lately—and Keith liked sex too much to go without it.
“He’s never come over here before,” Jade said.
“He’s trying to make up for being such a jerk.”
“That’s sweet.”
She shrugged. “He’s basically a nice guy. He just isn’t the type to settle down. And that’s the only type I’ll be satisfied with. We’re looking for different things in life.”
“Anyone can fall in love and change their plans, Nance.”
She put the garlic in a skillet and began to brown it in olive oil. “Not Keith.”
“Yes, Keith.”
“Apparently you’re more of a dreamer than I am,” she said as she washed the garlic press. “He lives in California and won’t be here long. These days he’s a wealthy man in his own right, with a company to run. Not to mention he’s handsome and charismatic and—”
“And you love him,” she broke in.
Nancy turned off the water. “Stop it, Jade! He could have anyone.”
“So what? No one else is as good as you,” her sister said.
All of Nancy’s pique flowed out of her body like air from a punctured balloon. “Come here.” She pulled her sister into an embrace. “What would I do without you?”
“You’d forget how great you are, that’s what,” Jade teased.
Movement at the door caught Nancy’s eye. Keith had just poked his head in the room. “Am I interrupting something?”
Jade pulled away. “I was just telling Nancy about this new technique of giving a blow job that makes the pleasure so intense it melts a man’s bones.”
Nancy sucked in her breath so fast she nearly choked. She couldn’t believe what’d come out of her sister’s mouth—and yet she should’ve expected something outrageous. Leave it to Jade. Jade didn’t feel comfortable with displays of emotion; shocking Keith put her back on stable ground.
Keith coughed in surprise. Then his lips twisted into a crooked grin. “I’d say that’s good information to have. Who was telling you about that?”
“A couple of gay friends. They claim to have perfected the technique. But it’ll take a lot of experience to get it right,” Jade said as she headed for her room. “Too bad Nancy rarely has an opportunity to practice.”
Nancy covered her face. “I’m going to kill her,” she mumbled into her hands.
“Don’t do it before she finishes teaching you that technique,” he said, and ducked as she threw a garlic clove at him.
* * *
Landon sat, bleary-eyed in front of the TV, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Thanks to Pippa, everyone now knew he was the last person to see Josephine alive. That was damning enough. If they found out any more...
He tried to imagine the embarrassment and humiliation his family would suffer. The betrayal. Rocki would never speak to him again. Once she learned that the truth extended far beyond what she already knew, she’d abandon him. The kids would, too. And the agent of his destruction, that damn picture he’d taken while he was drunk, could still be out there, somewhere. He’d insisted Josephine delete it from her phone. He knew it was gone from there, but the fact that he’d sent it in the first place made him sick with anxiety. He’d spent the past several days in an utter panic, hardly able to function, fearing someone might stumble upon it.
God, how had he let his life spin out of control? How
had he done the terrible things he’d done? He’d always considered himself “a good guy.” His mother, his father, his wife and children—everyone believed he was a good guy.
Bile rose in his throat as he realized just how soon they could be disabused of that notion...
He thought of Rocki in her bedroom, reading or whatever, and felt infinitely grateful that she hadn’t followed him into the living room. He couldn’t even look at her right now, couldn’t face the devastating truth about how far he’d fallen and the price they’d all have to pay.
“Daddy, will you read this for me?”
Tired of being away from home, Chloe had decided not to stay the whole weekend at her girlfriend’s and had come home shortly after Rocki disappeared into their bedroom. When he heard her voice, the guilt he’d been feeling became that much worse. His daughter didn’t deserve what he’d done. No one in the family did. Why hadn’t he been more careful? Kept his thoughts and desires in check?
He stared down at his hands as if they’d betrayed him on their own...
“Daddy?”
Chloe sounded confused. And she had reason. He hadn’t even looked up at her, wasn’t thinking straight, wasn’t acting normal. But he couldn’t act normal when it felt like he had a semi parked on his chest.
After he took a deep, calming breath, he switched off the television and forced himself to face her. “What, sweetheart?”
“Mom’s asleep and I’d rather not wake her. I think she might’ve had a hard day. So I was hoping you could read over my English paper. I really want to get a good grade in this class.”
She fought for a good grade in every class. She was a straight-A student, part of the student government and should be a strong contender for “kindest person in the school,” because she had more empathy in her little finger than most people had in their whole bodies.
“Of course,” he said, but her paper was an autobiography that praised her parents, gave thanks for her loving home and shared her dreams—which would soon be crushed beneath the selfish desires that’d somehow, inexplicably, snuck up and taken control of him. His eyes burned as he read and reread each paragraph.
