Beyond the Quiet: Romantic Thriller

by Brenda Hill

  “How about if I sweeten the deal,” Ben said, as relaxed as if we were simply in a friendly conversation. If I hadn’t known he was such a consummate salesman, I would’ve sworn he didn’t really care if he made the deal or not. And, just like the typical client, I sweated, worried about making the right decision.

  “What if I upped the offer by another three-thousand?” Ben said. “Say, in cash, to help with the inconvenience of moving so quickly. That would bring the total up to your asking price. Now what do you say?” He sat back in his desk chair, tipping it back so far I worried it would flip over, but he patiently waited for my response, effectively using the age-old salesman’s technique of making the offer sound great, then keeping silent. The adage used to be, “The first one who speaks, loses,” and even knowing the game, it was working on me. I reacted just like a novice—fearful of committing so soon, yet afraid of losing the cash.

  “Damn, Ben. No wonder you’re so successful,” I told him. “But I need some time to think straight.”

  “Don’t take too much time. I want your answer by tomorrow or the deal’s off.”

  ***

  On the way home, Terry and I discussed the pros and cons of Ben’s offer.

  “If I take it, we wouldn’t have to bother about showings,” I said, driving east on Yucaipa Boulevard. “I hate trying to keep the house straight for people tromping through all the time. But the biggest consideration is the opportunity to pay off Stan and Maggie. Oh, how I want them out of my life, and the sooner the better.”

  “I know that’s what you want, but are you sure that’s the wisest thing? Don’t forget, they’re your daughter’s aunt and uncle, and it’s going to be difficult for her if her mother and her father’s family are at odds.”

  Caught by the red light at Oak Glen Canyon Road, I thought about his words, but exhaust from the city bus in front filled the car and my stomach rolled.

  “I know you’re right,” I said, my hands tightening on the wheel, “but I’m not sure I’m that noble.” Damn, wouldn’t the light ever change? I felt a tightening of my neck and shoulder muscles and the beginning of a headache. “Perhaps one day I’ll be able to forgive them. But not now.”

  I rotated my head left and right to ease the pressure, but my temples were throbbing. I couldn’t wait to get home and out of my clothes. A nap would be heaven. I didn’t want to think about packing and moving, and I certainly didn’t want to think about forgiveness.

  ***

  At home my stomach felt knotted so I fixed a light supper of scrambled eggs, toast and sliced tomatoes. Terry zapped some bacon in the microwave, but I didn’t think my stomach could take anything greasy.

  “I still don’t know what to do,” I told him, munching on dry toast and taking a big drink of a diet cola, hoping the fizz would settle my stomach.

  “Honey,” he said, helping himself to the bacon, “I’ll support your decision whatever it is, and you know I’ll help.”

  Leaning over the table, I gave him a light kiss. “I appreciate it, but how can I work and get packed and moved at the same time?”

  “I’m a great packer,” he said. “Don’t worry. You do your thing at work and I’ll do the packing. It won’t be so bad. At least you don’t have an attic full of stuff and your garage is pretty clean.”

  While Terry cleared the table, I wandered the condo, assessing my belongings. After Mac’s death, Shanna had helped me sort Mac’s things, and about the only items I kept were family pictures, the boxes of cards, and a few personal items such as his wallet and cufflinks. Now, I just wanted rid of it all. After everything that had happened, I wanted to dump Mac’s things into the garbage, but there was Shanna to consider. And Kyle. Perhaps one day he’d like his grandfather’s jewelry, and Shanna, I’m sure, would want the pictures and cards. I made a mental note to ask when she called. If she called. I was beginning to wonder if the letter had been a good idea after all.

  Terry came up from behind me and slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. I leaned back against him.

  “So many decisions to make, so much to do,” I said. “I just want to run away from home.”

  “You can’t run without me, you know.” He nibbled my neck, and while I felt a delicious tingle, the strain of the past few days kept me from enjoying the kisses. I couldn’t relax.

  “You need a massage.” Arm around me, Terry led me to the bed. “Strip down to your underwear and lie on your back. Or, you can take it all off, but you’re liable to get more than a massage.”

  I’d never had a massage. In all my years of marriage, Mac had never offered to rub my feet or back. Sometimes, after standing all day at an open house, I’d feel achy all over and I’d ask him to rub my feet. I made sure I took a shower before asking, but even then he’d make it so clear he found the chore distasteful that I quit asking and rubbed my own feet.

  Now, the prospect of a foot rub was more tempting than the best sex in the world. In just my bra and panties, I lay across the bed.

  “Scoot down to the end so I can reach you,” Terry told me, returning from the bathroom with my body lotion.

  I did so and waited, not knowing what to expect. He started with the fingers on one hand, gently working every inch to my shoulder, then moved to the other hand. After he massaged each hand and arm, he started on my feet, rubbing my heels, my ankles and even between my toes. He had me to turn over, and he concentrated on my shoulders, working his way to the base of my skull. His warm, slippery hands massaged and kneaded the tightened muscles until I moaned in pleasure. I couldn’t believe what I’d been missing all my life.

  “You should make an appointment with Dr. Cole in Redlands,” he said. “He’s my chiropractor, and he’s the best.”

  “Umm,” I answered. When he stretched out beside me, I felt liquid all over. “Want the favor returned?”

  “Later. I want you to relax and feel better. You have some decisions to make and you need to make them tonight. I’ll heat some hot cocoa and we can talk.”

  Damn, I loved that man. No wonder his wife hadn’t wanted to let him go.

  I jerked upright. Where had that thought come from? I didn’t want to think of Terry’s wife. She was a shadowy figure in the background, an unwanted presence I didn’t want to acknowledge. When I heard Terry approaching the bedroom, I slipped on my robe and shoved all thoughts of her aside.

  ***

  We sat in bed and sipped cocoa. “Okay,” Terry said, “let’s settle this so you can relax and get some sleep. What do you want to do? Without worrying about anything else, what does your first instinct tell you to do?”

  I snuggled against him and sighed. “Take the offer and run.”

  “Then that settles it. All the rest we’ll figure out as we go.”

  “But all this stuff . . .”

  “You let me worry about it. I’m more than a pretty face, you know. I’ll get it packed.”

  “But where would we stay until the house is ready?”

  “There’s my apartment,” Terry said. It’s a small one-bedroom, but it’ll do for now.”

  “Funny, but I’d forgotten about your apartment. But what if we don’t get the house?”

  Terry shrugged. “Then we’ll find another. Or, if you don’t get the house, you might consider following through on your original plan to move to Minnesota. I’d be willing to make the move. Hell, I’d go anywhere with you.”

  I set the cup on the nightstand. “I’m not sure I want to do that now, not while things are so tense between Shanna and me. Besides, I have a job here.”

  “You could get a job there.”

  “But I know everyone here, the lenders, the mortgage brokers—”

  “You could get to know them in Minnesota.”

  “But I’d have to start from scratch there, and we’d have to find a place to live . . .”

  “Honey, you’re talking about details. Where you live isn’t nearly as important as how you live. I’d like you to remember that.”


  “But there are so many things to consider.”

  “Of course there are, but nothing we can’t handle. What’s more important? Staying in one place because you’re worried about what could happen, or grabbing onto what you want and working out the details as they come? If Shanna were a baby, or even still living with you, then yes, you’d need to be concerned about everything affecting her.

  “But honey,” he went on, “that’s not the case, and isn’t it about time you grabbed some happiness for yourself? As for Shanna and the baby, how can you make them happy if you’re not happy yourself? Live life. Don’t be afraid of it.”

  What he was saying sounded good, but since it was foreign to everything I had ever done, I wondered if I could do it. But I suddenly realized I wanted to. Very badly.

  “I don’t think I’m ready to move to Minnesota now,” I said. “I just want our house in Forest Falls, a house where you and I could start fresh, without anything from the past hanging on. We’ll make it into our home.”

  Sitting up, I looked around the bedroom, at the bed Mac and I had slept on for years, at the special dresser he bought because it had the small top drawers for his jewelry and personal items.

  “I’d love to get rid of everything, except our new sofa, and start fresh. Just buy what we want for the new house.”

  “Sure would make my packing job much easier,” Terry teased.

  Now I was getting excited. “We could have a moving sale this weekend and what we’ll make from that should help toward the new furniture. We could . . . I suddenly remembered the open house I’d scheduled. “Damn. I have to work this weekend.”

  “You just called it in today, didn’t you?”

  I looked at him. “Of course! Maybe Ben hasn’t notified the paper yet.” I’d call him first thing tomorrow morning. I still had some questions, but I could handle them as they came. For the first time in my life, I was going to grab what I wanted and worry about the details later.

  I was moving to Forest Falls.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The next morning I called Ben to reschedule the open house in Banning for the following weekend.

  “How soon will you know if I won the bid?” I asked, knowing I sounded like an excited rookie buyer. In a way, I was. This would be my first purchase as a single woman.

  The HUD house I wanted was still in the bidding process, but would close in three more days. Since I would be an owner/occupant, my contract would take priority over investors, but as nice as the house was, I felt sure I would have a lot of competition.

  “Relax, Lisa,” Ben said. “I have a friend at the HUD office and he’ll call as soon as they open the bids and declare a winner. Give it four days, max.”

  “Four days?” I exclaimed. “Now I know how our clients feel.”

  I couldn’t believe how badly I wanted the house. It was amazing: I’d had such doubts, but now it was all I could think of. After talking to Terry last, I’d grabbed him and we drove by the house. It was too dark to see much, so it was like having your Christmas present all wrapped up with a pretty bow under the tree, but being unable to open it until that special day. And now I couldn’t wait.

  “Don’t worry,” Ben said. “Your contract is solid.”

  “I’m concerned, Ben. You know the bank started foreclosure proceedings on my condo and I’m not sure HUD will like that on my record.”

  “I’ve talked to my friend about it, so don’t worry; I’ll take care of everything. I have a stake in this as well. I’d say about a month, six weeks at the most, and you’ll be ready to move in. Then tell your friend you need a vacation.”

  ***

  The next few days passed in a flurry of activity. We filled the house with boxes of various sizes and labeled them, “Keep,” “Donate,” and “Shanna,” and went from room to room, filling boxes or separating items for the moving sale. I decided to get rid of everything except for the dishes, pots, pans, and linens I bought while watching the home shopping channels during sleepless nights after Mac died. While they may have been impulse buys, I still liked them.

  While sorting and packing was a lot of work, it kept me too busy to think of anything else. It was only when I took a break that I allowed myself to wonder why Shanna hadn’t called. Surely they must be back from their vacation by now and had picked up the mail. She must know that I was eager to hear from her.

  “If she doesn’t call in the next couple of days, I’m flying out there,” I told Terry. Now that Shanna knew the truth about her father, it was important that she knew how much I loved her. I’d made it clear in the letter, but I had to make sure she knew how I felt.

  The next day when the phone rang, I ran to answer, almost tripping over a roll of wrapping paper, hoping to hear her voice. But it was Ben.

  “The house is yours, kiddo. Congratulations! The closing will be in one month, but don’t forget, you have to be out of the condo in nine days.” To help with the inconvenience, he offered the three-thousand dollars he’d promised a little early.

  “Not only will I fork over the three-thousand,” he continued, “but if you want to come on in, I can advance your commission for selling the HUD house.”

  I was out the door before he could hang up and change his mind.

  Terry and I celebrated with dinner at Red Lobster, then we came home and had our own celebration. We took a bath together, complete with candles set around the edge of the tub just like in the movies.

  ***

  Even though we put the moving sale together in a hurry, it went even better than I’d hoped. Most of the furniture sold in the first three hours, and the smaller items trickled out over the weekend. I sold the china that I had stored in the cupboard for years, stemware, although pretty enough, that I’d seldom used, and household accessories and decorations that had been given to Mac and me during our marriage.

  Terry contributed some things he’d had in storage, including two metal detectors and a baby grand piano. When he told me he’d always wanted to learn but never got around to it, I talked him out of selling it, telling him he could learn now. I’d always loved to listen to piano music and I didn’t care if it was someone practicing or if it was a concerto.

  Sunday evening we gleefully counted the money. Eying the neat stack of bills, I felt as proud of myself as if I’d personally printed the money. We made enough to buy appliances for the new house, and with the expense money Ben had given me, we could have it painted. Smaller things we could pick up later.

  Now that the clock was ticking, we decided to stay at Terry’s apartment after vacating the condo, so the next two days we made several trips, loading both cars with boxes to place in his storage space. The only items I wanted to keep handy were clothes and personal things, including a couple of hardback novels I’d always kept on my bedside table for when I had trouble sleeping, and my favorite twenty-pound marbled geode bookends. Terry also insisted I bring my .45 pistol, especially since Rick might still be around.

  When I pulled onto my street for one last trip, Terry was a half a block behind me. While the past few days had been exciting, I was exhausted and looked forward to getting the last few things moved.

  As I approached my driveway, I saw a Ford Expedition sitting outside the garage. Stan’s car. I could see Maggie through the passenger window.

  How dare they just show up without any notice. With the rush of moving, I’d almost managed to forget about Jenna, but now it all came back. Pulling to the side of the street, I called Terry on my cell.

  “I’m too tired to deal with them now,” I told him. “I’ll just drive on by.”

  “Honey, what’s that going to accomplish? You might as well hear what they have to say.”

  “I heard enough that day at Jenna’s.”

  “You have to face them eventually,” he said. “Might as well get it over with.”

  We sat in the street while I decided what I wanted to do, Terry’s Lexus behind my Toyota, both engines idling. Stan and Maggie must have spott
ed me because they got out of their car and stood waiting.

  Flashes of the wonderful times we’d all shared ran through my mind and I felt like crying. They had been more than in-laws to me; I had truly loved them. I’d shared my life with them and they’d shared theirs with me. For the first time in my life, I had felt part of a family.

  Which made their betrayal even more bitter.

  Terry was right—I might as well talk to them. I pulled up alongside of their car.

  My cell phone rang. “Honey,” Terry said, “want me to disappear for a bit?”

  “I have nothing to hide. Besides, I want you with me.” Without another word he pulled up behind me.

  Getting out of my car, I could see Stan and Maggie watching Terry, their eyes curious. I didn’t owe them an explanation, so I didn’t introduce him.

  “So it’s true,” Stan said. That was all he said, but his disapproval was clear.

  “So what’s true?” I asked, knowing full well what he meant.

  “You’re involved with a man.”

  “I don’t think either of you is in any position to make judgments about anything I do.” The anger bubbled, but I tried to stay as calm as I could. I just couldn’t lose my composure in front of them.

  “You could have waited a decent time after Mac’s death.”

  “A decent time?” I echoed. “You’re a fine one to talk about decency. At least I didn’t have an affair while I was married.”

  Maggie flushed, but my words didn’t seem to faze Stan.

  “You have Shanna to consider,” he went on. “She’s pregnant and having a difficult time coping with her father’s death.”

  This was the gentle bear-like man I’d loved? And who I’d thought had loved me?

  “I can’t believe you’re talking to me about consideration for Shanna,” I said, so angry I trembled. “Just where was the concern for her all those years when you knew her father was making babies another woman?”

  Neither spoke. Cheeks red, Maggie kept her head down. Watching her, I couldn’t help but be reminded of all the times she’d held and comforted me. Suddenly I wearied of the entire thing and just wanted it to end.