by Karen Rose
“With what? Gel pens and colored pencils?”
He leaned in to kiss her again. “No. Although we could do that after.”
“It’s going to be a while before I can do anything, before or after,” she said, grumpy at the thought. The doctor had said six weeks till she was even halfway back to normal.
He waggled his brows. “I can wait for you. I’ll just keep fixing things and adding it to your bill. By the time you can again, the rest of your life will be promised to me.”
She closed her eyes, content now that he was here. “It already is.”
Epilogue
Mount Carmel, Ohio
Saturday, February 6, 2:00 p.m.
“Oh my gosh. Adam!” Standing in Mariposa House’s living room, Meredith turned in a circle, staring in delight. The room was decorated for Christmas, complete with a real tree. All the decorations had been taken down right after New Year’s, but someone had put them all back up. Complete with a fresh-cut, sixteen-foot tree. Adam had promised they’d have a Christmas after she was feeling better and after six weeks of healing and rehab on her repaired arm muscles, she finally was. He’d kept his promise.
She hooked her good arm around his neck and pulled his head down for a lusty kiss that made her wish they were back at her little house, despite the gorgeous decorations. Because she’d been cleared for sex only a few weeks before, after a long month without.
“How did you do this?”
“I had help,” Adam said, smiling down at her. He often had a smile on his face these days and that made her even happier. “I called the guy at the tree farm on Christmas Eve, told him your story, and asked if we could come back and cut another tree now. Diesel went out with me yesterday to pick it up. So you should thank Diesel, too. Just not like this,” he teased. He teased more often, too. He seemed lighter all the way around.
Meredith found Diesel pretending to be busy in the next room, when he was really giving them privacy. Over the last six weeks he’d become the brother she’d never had and she couldn’t imagine a time when he hadn’t been there. Now she tugged on the sleeve of his T-shirt until he bent his knees, allowing her to peck his cheek in thanks. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
He shrugged it off like it was no big deal. “You missed Christmas. We wanted to give it to you.”
Adam had followed her into the next room. “All the girls helped decorate. They’ll be disappointed they didn’t get to see your reaction.”
Meredith frowned. “Where are the girls?” She’d run straight into the living room after spying the tree through the window when they’d come through the front gate. She just now realized how quiet it was. The house was never this quiet.
She caught the glint in Diesel’s eyes just before Adam turned her around, so that she faced back into the living room—which had suddenly filled with people.
“Merry Christmas!” they all shouted, and that fast she was surrounded by Mallory and all the girls who lived at Mariposa House. Adam rushed to Meredith’s right side, making himself a barrier between her and anyone who didn’t remember that her arm wasn’t completely healed and tried to hug her.
“This is amazing. You girls did a wonderful job!” Meredith sniffed and smelled cookies. “You guys even baked for me?”
“No,” Mallory said. She’d started GED school right after New Year’s and was doing so well. They were all proud of her. Although Meredith still did a double-take whenever she saw her. Inspired by how different she’d looked with a wig, Mallory had dyed her hair and learned valuable makeup skills from Kate. It gave her confidence a boost, made her believe she could walk down a street and not be recognized as who she used to be—a victim.
Which made Meredith so happy she could cry.
“We don’t bake,” one of the girls said. “Miss Wendi always bakes the cookies.”
“Except when I have help,” Wendi called, coming through the kitchen doorway with a big tray of holiday cookies. She was followed by Kendra, Bailey, Scarlett, and Delores, with Faith and Kate bringing up the rear, each carrying a tray of goodies. “Parrish?”
“We’re coming!” Parrish called back from upstairs. He clomped down the stairs, dressed in a Santa suit, with a fake beard and a sack of presents over his shoulder. He was followed by all the partners and husbands, each carrying something useful—another sack of presents, a boom box, a karaoke machine (um, no, Meredith thought), a video camera, and . . . a dog?
Stone O’Bannion was carrying a young yellow lab, who looked perfectly at home in his arms.
Meredith recognized the dog right away. “Mac.” She looked over her shoulder at Adam, who was watching the dog happily. “Are we taking him home today?”
Adam nodded. “I finished fixing the fence last night. He won’t be able to escape.” He’d chosen the dog at Delores’s shelter two weeks before—or the dog had chosen him would be more accurate—but the fence around Meredith’s backyard hadn’t been tended in years and it had had some weak places. Now that the fence was whole, they could take the dog home.
“You named him Mac?” Mallory asked.
“Actually it’s Mac-’n’-Cheese, for the crayon color,” Meredith told her. “We figure no matter what dogs we get in the future, they’ll always have crayon colors to name them.”
“I picked a dog, too,” Mallory confided. Meredith knew that she’d been out at Delores’s several times a week, scouting all the new arrivals for a good fit. “She’s small, like a toy poodle size, but she’s a mutt. Delores says I can work at the shelter to earn money for her food, and Wendi says she can sleep in my bed if I keep her clean. She’s so soft, and she cuddled up in my arms and went to sleep. And my new therapist says if I get her certified as a therapy dog, I can bring her to school with me, in case I have a panic attack.”
Meredith gave her a one-armed hug. “It sounds like you’ve got a plan. Let’s go say hi to everyone.” Because Adam had already hurried over to Stone to claim his dog. The two had bonded from the first moment and it was simply lovely to see.
Dani Novak came in the front door, closing it quickly behind her. “Sorry I’m late. I got delayed at the clinic.” Mallory took her coat, revealing the delicate lacy shawl draped around Dani’s shoulders, and Meredith did another double-take. Because she’d seen that shawl before—on Diesel’s knitting needles as he’d kept vigil with her and her family during that difficult week after Christmas.
“This is beautiful,” Meredith said, touching the lace after giving Dani a hug. “Where did you get it?”
“It was the weirdest thing. It was in a wrapped box on my desk chair in the clinic. Had my name on the label, but nothing to say who it was from. It is so soft. And the color is perfect—the black with white streaked through it.” Just like Dani’s hair. “I just love it.”
She should, Meredith thought. Diesel had worked damn hard on the thing. Meredith looked across the room to where Diesel was helping Colby give gifts to the younger girls, who were thrilled to be getting presents for the second time in two months. Diesel met Meredith’s eyes, his pleading her to silence, and she sighed. Sooner or later something would happen to shove the two together.
Meredith just hoped it wasn’t a murder. Or murders. Because Wyatt Hanson had taken nearly twenty lives in a single weekend before Adam had ended his life. God only knew how many others he’d killed over the years. Others like Paula.
“Well, it’s a gorgeous shawl,” Meredith told Dani. “Whoever made it obviously knows you well. Hey, have you heard from Linnie lately?” she asked, because it had looked like Dani wanted to ask what she’d meant by knows you well.
Dani’s smile lit up her face. “Linnie is doing well. The folks up in Chicago found her a doctor right away and she’s been taking her meds. She’s not having any side effects and she’s gained a little weight. I don’t talk to her, but Shane says she’s looking into being a social worker. She wants t
o do better than the caseworker in Indianapolis who betrayed them.”
“Well, she set the bar pretty low,” Meredith said wryly. “I think Linnie can do far better than that. But I’m happy that she’s doing so well.” She tucked her arm through Dani’s. “Let’s go mingle.”
They found Wendi, who looked pleased as punch at the surprise she’d pulled off. “I didn’t suspect a thing,” Meredith told her. “How did you manage it?”
“It was mostly Adam,” Wendi said with a smile. “I didn’t know there was such a good guy under all that bitter broodiness.”
Dani sighed. “I kept telling you. But he had to prove it himself. I’m so glad he did.”
“Me, too,” Meredith said. She caught Adam’s eye because he’d been watching her, Mac lying peacefully at his feet. She gave him a look that promised future reward, shivering when his eyes darkened. She turned back to her friends, finding them smiling smugly, like they knew exactly what she was thinking. “I think he’s won everyone over,” Meredith said, pretending like they weren’t right, and that she wasn’t imagining them home in her bed. But they just grinned and she knew she’d been busted. Still she pressed on. “Bailey and Ryan like him. Alex and Daniel seemed to, too, and Papa has adopted him.” Which was a good thing, because Adam’s father continued to be horrible and his mother either hadn’t tried or hadn’t succeeded in getting away to visit her son. Even on Christmas Day. “I just wish we could have had more time with my family before they all had to go home.”
“You wish that?” Wendi said.
Meredith frowned. “Of course I do.”
“Good.” Wendi raised a toy horn to her mouth and blew. Everyone went silent, almost as if it were a prearranged signal, Meredith thought suspiciously.
Her suspicions were proven when the kitchen door opened again and Alex, Daniel, and Clarke pushed into the already crowded room. Meredith’s mouth fell open and Alex laughed. “Did you think we could miss your Christmas?” she asked, hugging Meredith’s left side as Daniel kissed her cheek.
“You look so much healthier,” Daniel said.
“You got some meat back on your bones,” Clarke said jovially. He looked behind him, stretching out a hand for the tall, slim woman who’d followed him in.
“Sharon,” Meredith said warmly, greeting her grandfather’s new girlfriend. “You two look disgustingly tan.” The Florida sun was good for them. “How did you all get here?”
“Adam called,” Alex told her. “He asked us to come.”
“Excuse me,” Meredith told them. “I’ll be right back.” She crossed the room to where Adam stood, his face filled with quiet joy. “You did this for me?”
“I’d do just about anything for you,” he told her.
Her eyes grew blurry and she blinked at the tears. “You brought my family and my friends together and all the girls. How do I thank you for this?”
“You bring everyone together, Meredith,” he said seriously. “I just made a few calls to get them all in one place for you.” He winked at her. “Besides, I’m not doing this for free.”
She laughed through her tears. “I thought we tore up my tab for all the home improvements.” She’d never had so much fun working off a debt.
“We did. But if you want to thank me for today, you can wear this tonight.” He gave her a box, wrapped in a silver bow. She lifted one corner of the box to peek inside and felt her cheeks go red.
“There’s nothing in this box.”
“I know,” he said wickedly.
Sure that her cheeks were flaming and not caring a whit, she leaned up to kiss him. “You’re lucky that I’d do most anything for you, too.”
Keep reading for an excerpt of Karen Rose’s next Baltimore novel . . .
DEATH IS NOT ENOUGH
Coming soon in paperback from Berkley!
Prologue
Chevy Chase, Maryland
Sunday, January 11, 1998, 10:30 p.m.
“Sherri, give me the damn key.”
Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s growl, Sherri Douglas closed her driver’s-side door, locked up, and tossed the key to her old Ford Escort over its peeling roof. “There you go.”
Thomas’s scowl was interrupted by the grimace of pain that twisted his bruised face as he reflexively caught the key in midair. He froze for a second, then hissed as he lowered his arm. “Shit,” he muttered.
Sherri sucked in a breath, instantly regretting her thoughtlessness. “Oh, Tommy, I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.”
He schooled his battered features and swallowed hard, pursing his lips then quickly opening his mouth because his lip was split, too.
She wanted to cry. His beautiful face was . . . still so beautiful. But hurt. Her chest ached as she catalogued every bruise and cut. She wanted to hit something. Someone. Four someones, actually. She narrowed her eyes, thinking about the boys who’d done all that damage. Hating them. Wanting to hurt them back, plus some. Her fists clenched and she shoved them in her coat pockets. Hitting them wasn’t going to help Thomas.
And her father would kill her if she got in trouble, too. Her dad wasn’t terribly keen on her dating a “white boy” to begin with. Ha. A white boy. It would have been funny had it not been so frustratingly sad. Thomas’s dark skin wasn’t white enough for him to fit in here at school, but he wasn’t black enough for her father. At least he hadn’t forbidden them seeing each other. Because Sherri would have disobeyed her father if he’d tried. But if she got expelled along with Thomas? Her father would make sure they never saw each other again.
Expelled. They’d expelled him. She still couldn’t believe it. It was so unfair.
“Don’t you ever call yourself stupid,” Thomas said quietly.
She blinked in confusion, then realized he was referring to what she’d just said. But it had been stupid to make him move so quickly. “I should have thought.” Because it wasn’t only his face that was battered. They’d kicked his arms and legs, too. She clenched her teeth, willing the tears back.
They’d hurt him. Those bastards. They’d hurt him.
Thomas shook his head. “It’s all right. I’ll live.” He walked around to where she stood and held out the car key, his expression one of weary defeat. “Sherri, please. Give me the right key. I’m too tired for games. I just want to get my bass and get out of here. Get back in the car and keep it running. You should stay warm.”
Her eyes filled with tears she couldn’t hold back. “I’m going with you,” she whispered fiercely.
His dark brows lifted, his split lip bending down. “No. You’re not.”
“I’m . . .” Her voice broke and she looked up at him helplessly. He was so big and strong and . . . good. Better than any of those bastards. One on one, it would have been no contest. At six-three, he was the tallest, best built boy in their class. But there’d been four of them. Four. They’d beaten him and yet he’d been blamed. He’d been punished. He’d been expelled.
Because Richard Linden—even in her mind Sherri hissed the entitled bastard’s name—thought he had the right to touch any of the scholarship girls. Just because we’re poor. And he’s not. And because Thomas couldn’t ignore poor Angie’s terrified face as Richard held her against the wall and groped her. And because when Thomas pulled Richard off Angie, Richard’s posse of thugs attacked Thomas and beat the crap out of him.
The principal had blamed Thomas. What a shock. Dr. Green did whatever the Linden family said because they were rich. And white. And Thomas and Angie and I are not. And to make it all even worse, somehow Richard or one of his crew had gotten to Angie, because she was denying Richard had touched her.
So they’d expelled Thomas. He’d worked so damn hard to look good to the colleges. He’d needed a scholarship or he wasn’t going. Now? He’d have to go to his local high school, the expulsion on his permanent record. Would the colleges even want him at t
his point?
They’d stolen his future. She was going to make damned sure they didn’t touch anything else of his. A blink sent the tears down her cheeks. “I’m going with you,” she repeated. “It’s just the band room. It’s not dangerous.”
“If you get caught, you’ll be expelled right along with me.” He cupped her jaw in his huge hand, gently swiping at her tears with his thumb. “I won’t let that happen to you.”
“It shouldn’t have happened to you. It’s so unfair, Tommy.” She bit her lip hard, trying not to cry any more. She knew her tears ripped him up.
He drew a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“We need to fight this. You need to fight this. You did the right thing. You protected Angie. You were the hero.”
“Fighting it won’t do any good.”
She held his gaze, desperately hoping to make him see reason. “We can sue.”
He laughed, a huff of disbelief. “What? No!”
She took his free hand in hers, twined their fingers together. Her skin dark, his a few shades lighter. “We can get a lawyer.”
“With what?” he scoffed. “Willy counts every bite of food I put in my mouth, for God’s sake. You think he’s gonna pay for a lawyer?”
Thomas’s stepfather was an abusive, nasty man. Sherri didn’t like being around him. He made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. He didn’t make any secret that he thought Thomas was inferior. Thomas, who was better than all the other men.
Thomas, who Sherri loved with all her heart.
“We can call the ACLU,” she said.
Thomas blinked down at her. “What? No. I’m not suing anyone. Nothing ever gets solved in court.”
“That’s not true.” Her voice was trembling again and she closed her eyes to fight back tears. “Tommy, this is your life.”
Wearily he leaned down until their foreheads and noses touched, a gesture he’d learned from his real father with his Polynesian roots. His real father, long dead, whose memory Thomas quietly worshipped.
