All I Ever Wanted: Of Love and Madness, Book Three
Page 18
“No, I can honestly say I haven’t. But I have advised people to try every means of fixing their relationships first, especially when they haven’t even talked things over.”
“Here I am thinking I’ve finally come to some kind of decision, and you’re telling me to think some more. Tom says the same thing. Even Liz wants me to map out my reasons for and against it.”
She picked up a piece of driftwood and threw it. Charlie immediately bounded after it and brought it back. She threw it again, letting some of her frustration sail along with it.
“Maybe you’re right. I guess it’s not fair to just send him divorce papers. Although in the long run, that’s the easiest way to do it.”
“Since when was it okay to do things the easy way?”
“What I mean is, I’m afraid to be around him. I’m afraid if he doesn’t want a divorce, he’ll talk me into coming back, even if it’s not what I want.”
“Do really think he can make you do something you don’t want to do?”
“Yeah. Maybe. Probably.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, that was the most convincing thing I’ve ever heard.”
She rolled her eyes.
They had walked the circumference of the island, and as they approached the boat from the other side, they saw Harold heading in the opposite direction. Jeff called to him several times before he heard.
Harold jogged toward them, waving his arms. “If we don’t get moving, we’re not going to get back to the dock before low tide.”
The front of the Bayliner was sitting on the muddy shoreline.
Jeff checked his watch. “Oh, crap.”
He grabbed the cooler and darted into the water while Kate gathered the rest of her things. Harold climbed in and Jeff lifted Charlie, who wiggled to get free, and set him into the boat with Harold.
“You’re going to have to help me push the boat into deeper water,” Jeff told Kate. “I don’t want Dad to have to climb in.”
“I’m fine,” Harold barked, throwing a leg over the side. “Stop treating me like an invalid.”
Kate shook a threatening finger. “Don’t do it, old man. I’m already soaked up to my knees. You just hold onto that damn dog.” Charlie looked ready to bolt.
By the time they got the boat out far enough for Jeff to start the engine, she was soaked up to her thighs. Harold handed her a blanket from under the seat to wrap around her legs.
“It’s going to get chilly as soon as we get moving,” he said. “We’re going to have to fly.”
They made it to Harold’s dock with nothing but chicken bones, an empty wine bottle, and a few inches of water remaining with the tide. The three of them had to drag the boat in the rest of the way. Harold headed for the house to heed a call of nature, and Charlie bounded after him, as excited to be on dry land as he had been to set sail.
“I’ll be sad to see the boats out of the water,” Kate said, standing on the dock, hosing the muck from her bare feet. “And I’m going to miss you and your father. It’s going to be awfully quiet around here.”
“You’re really going to stay?”
“I think so,” she said with a shrug that was more casual than what she was truly feeling. “My life is here now.”
Jeff rested a hand on her shoulder. The look he gave her was sad, but sincere. “Not really, Kate. Not yet, anyway.”
She turned off the water and tightened the spigot with a small grunt. “Maybe not, but it feels like home. I think this is where I belong.”
“That may be, but you have a lot of unfinished business.”
Thinking about the mess with Billy made the heaviness of Harold’s imminent departure feel that much worse. She slipped her canvas bag over her shoulder, while Jeff lifted the cooler.
“You’re not going to have any answers until you face him,” he said as they made their way up the steep steps from the dock.
“I know. Maybe I’ll call Devin, see if I can find out what to expect if I do go back.”
She stopped talking as she made her way up the last section of steps, huffing and puffing. “Jeez, these are a killer. I don’t know how your father does this every day.”
“He’s a tough old bird.”
“Speak of the devil.”
“What took you so long?” Harold strolled toward them, carrying two empty wine bottles. Charlie trotted happily alongside him.
“If you finished off two bottles of wine, we took a lot longer than I realized,” Jeff said with a shake of his head.
“I like a little wine with dinner,” Harold answered. “Kate, honey, can you put these in with your returns? I missed these when I went to the redemption center.”
“Absolutely.” She tucked the two bottles under her arm along with the empty one she was already carrying. “What time are you leaving Sunday?”
“Early,” Jeff said. “I have to be in Ogunquit for eight-o’clock Mass. I was thinking of leaving tomorrow after the wedding, but they want me to come to the reception and say the blessing. We’ll just leave in the morning.”
A motorcycle roared past the house, prompting Harold to turn and shake his fist. “Damn hoodlum.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Just because he rides a motorcycle doesn’t make him a hoodlum.”
“No? What does it make him?”
“Ecological? Adventurous?”
“Pah!” Harold waved him off.
Kate debated giving Harold a hug, which would either annoy or embarrass him, but in the end, she couldn’t help herself. She chased after him as he made his way toward the house.
“Harold!” She threw her free arm around his neck. “In case I don’t see you, thank you for everything.” Her voice broke. “Thank you both. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
Harold’s face softened, and his arms looped around her. “You have my number, and remember, you promised to come to Boston and visit. No excuses.” He followed up with a quick pat on her back and let go. “You better go after that crazy dog of yours.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed it under his nose and across his eyes. “Damn allergies.”
Unable to speak, Kate nodded. She felt some allergies coming on as well.
Relishing the cool grass beneath her bare feet, Kate walked beside Jeff, while Charlie galloped on ahead of them. It was nearly four thirty, and the temperature had dropped since morning. The sun, partly obscured by gathering rain clouds, had dipped behind the tall pines.
Charlie disappeared behind the trees, barking over the idling of Shane’s motorcycle. She’d call him, but why bother? He’d only ignore her. If she was going to live here permanently, she would have to start tying Charlie up when he was outside or put in an electric fence, since Harold wouldn’t be around to shoo him back home when he went wandering.
“Damn dog. He must be in Rhonda’s yard. Probably won’t let the poor kid get off his bike.”
After the engine cut off, Jeff gave a loud whistle. Charlie bounded around the copse of pines that separated the two properties.
“Come here, you knucklehead!” she yelled. He ran past her, drew up behind them, and galloped back toward the house at full speed.
Jeff laughed. “I bet he’s good company.”
“When I’m not chasing him all over the neighborhood.”
Charlie disappeared, and the barking started again.
“I’m coming. Don’t rush me!” She was still laughing at her maniac of a dog as they cleared the trees.
The biker standing in her driveway was a good half-foot taller than Shane and was dressed in black from his helmet to his boots. Lost, most likely. But then he turned toward her and removed his helmet.
A shaft of lowering sunlight pierced the pines like a spotlight, illuminating the place where he stood and reflecting the mass of blond waves that tumbled gently over his shoulders.
This time, she knew she wasn’t dreaming.
Chapter Thirty-Four
When he woke that morning, Billy had no idea that by
late afternoon, he would find his wife—not only find her, but find her with another man. His heart was about to punch its way through his chest. He looped his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans, spread his fingers across the tops of his thighs, and concentrated on keeping them there. It took everything in his power to stay under control, but he’d worked too hard and waited too long to lose it now.
His eyes drank her in. His beautiful Katie! She was still thin, but she’d regained some of the weight she’d lost. Her cheeks were fuller, and the sharp angles of her shoulders and hips had been replaced with the soft, gentle curves he remembered. Her hair was shorter than he’d ever seen, but it in no way diminished her beauty.
The real difference, however, was that she had been laughing. A sound he hadn’t heard since before he’d gone out on tour with Stonestreet almost a year and a half ago. It was good to see her looking almost like herself, but it fucking killed him to see her that way with someone else.
Recognition swept across her face, and she resembled a deer in the headlights. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he should have told Devin to let her know he was coming. She moved closer, and he saw she was carrying empty wine bottles and glasses. Bile rose in his throat. Had he interrupted something?
Charlie darted toward him, raced to Kate, then back again, barking wildly.
Billy stood on the brick-paved walkway, grateful to be wearing shades. Not for the sun, but to hide any emotion he couldn’t control. She was also wearing sunglasses. He wouldn’t know what she was thinking either, although the way she chewed on her lip gave him a clue. It also made him weak in the knees.
She was barefoot. Her cropped slacks were damp above her knees. Grass clippings clung to her feet and ankles.
When she spoke, her voice was soft and low, pouring over him like warm honey. “Hello, Billy.”
He swallowed. “Katie.”
Charlie had no trouble showing his emotions. He barked and jumped and wove in and out around their legs.
“Charlie!” the three of them yelled at the same time.
He glared at Kate’s friend. With a whimper, Charlie plopped onto the grass and rested his head on his front paws, looking expectantly from Kate to Billy.
Kate’s dark glasses made it difficult to tell if she was looking at him. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her lest she disappear, but her friend forced him by setting down the cooler and extending his hand.
“I’m Jeff.” The bastard was smiling.
Jeff was shorter than Billy by several inches, and had close-cropped, sand-colored hair. He was dressed neatly, right down to an Izod polo shirt tucked into a pair of khaki shorts and a thin, woven belt that might actually have had lobsters on it. A yellow sweater was tied around his shoulders.
Who the fuck wore a yellow sweater? Or fucking lobsters, for that matter? A stockbroker, maybe. Or an accountant. Billy’s already low spirits plummeted. The kind of guy Kate should have been with all along, that’s who. Not some alcoholic musician with a bad attitude and a hot temper.
In spite of his preference for punching the guy in his crooked nose, Billy shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m sorry.” Kate looked nervous, as if she’d expected him to deck the guy. “Jeff, you’ve heard me speak of Billy. My husband.”
Billy tried to read her but couldn’t.
“Jeff’s my neighbor’s son and a good friend.”
No one moved. Billy stared at Kate. She stared at her feet. And her friend stared at him.
After an uncomfortable few seconds, Jeff cleared his throat. “I should be going. I have that rehearsal tonight. Kate? You good here?”
“She’s fine.” Billy couldn’t stop himself, nor could he hide the irritation in his voice. He only slightly regretted it when Kate’s head jerked up.
She smiled sweetly and nodded. “Please thank your dad again.” She reached up to kiss Jeff’s cheek, and Billy’s fingers curled into fists.
Rehearsal? So he was a musician. Billy assessed him again. Probably played with some orchestra.
“It was nice meeting you.” Walking backward, Jeff gave a little wave before turning and sprinting across the lawn with Charlie in close pursuit.
Billy whistled. The dog stopped in his tracks and trotted back to Billy, looking up at Kate as if she were encroaching on their territory.
“Someone’s got to teach me how to do that,” she mumbled.
The last of the sunlight had vanished. Kate stood close enough to touch, but neither of them moved. Finally, Billy slipped off his sunglasses, folded them, and tucked them into the neck of his T-shirt. With both hands, he removed Kate’s, folded them, and dropped them into her canvas bag.
He looked for a spark and found himself tumbling into eyes the color of a stormy sea, and then he smiled.
“Hello, Katie. I’ve missed you.”
* * *
Kate’s heart ricocheted against her ribs. When Billy removed her glasses, it was all she could do to stay on her feet. He didn’t touch her, but she felt warmth radiating off his hands and onto her cheeks. She inhaled sharply.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. Damn, he looked good. The lines on his face were deeper and there were a few silver hairs in his unshaven scruff, but his eyes were clear. Eyes she still saw each night when she closed her own. A thousand thoughts and memories raced through her mind, but not a single word sprang to her lips.
“I’m sorry to surprise you,” he said. “I should’ve asked Devin to let you know I was on my way, but I was afraid you’d tell him to stop me.”
Is that what she would have done? Probably. What she needed to do now was to get a grip.
“Nice bike.” She tried to keep the snark from her voice. She hated motorcycles, and he knew it. “Yours?”
“It is.” At least he had the decency to look sheepish, even if she had no right to an opinion.
“You have a license?”
“Of course.”
He hadn’t had one for the past couple of years, so why would she assume differently? She pressed the bottles closer to her chest. “Where are you staying?”
Billy’s face clouded. “I don’t know. I didn’t think that far ahead.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “When I found out where you were, I grabbed the keys and jumped on my bike. I would’ve been here sooner, but I hit rain in Massachusetts and ended up parked under an overpass for a while.”
Her mouth fell open. Still not getting a grip. “You just found out? Today?”
He glanced at his watch. “About seven hours ago.”
It would have taken him at least six, six and a half hours to get there with no traffic.
“Who told you? Devin?”
Billy nodded, but lowered his eyes. “Has he known all along?”
“No. Just a few weeks. No one knew except Tom.”
“Yeah, and the bastard wasn’t talking.”
“He was doing what I asked.”
Billy nodded.
A mosquito landed on her hand, and she shooed it away.
“Do you want to come inside?” She was afraid of what might happen if they were alone together, but she wasn’t in the mood to be eaten alive. “Or you can hold these and let me spray myself.”
“Inside. If that’s okay.”
As she fumbled through her canvas bag for the house keys, the empty bottles slipped from her arm and shattered on the brick sidewalk.
“Oh crap!”
Shards of broken glass glittered around her feet.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. “Just hand me the keys.”
Before she could protest, he scooped her up and carried her up the steps. Holding her, he squatted low enough to slide the key in the lock.
“You could put me down now,” she said nervously. “The glass is down there, not up here.”
Ignoring her, he proceeded into the house and set her down on the floor in the foyer. “If you get me a broom, I’ll clean that up for you.”
She fetch
ed the broom and dustpan, and while Billy swept up the broken glass, she stood in the kitchen, gripping the edge of the granite countertop like a lifeline. The pounding of her heart filled her ears, nearly drowning the rhythmic swish of the broom outside. She felt dizzy and for a moment, she thought she might faint. An electric current had shot through her when Billy picked her up. It was so strong he had to have felt it himself.
But what if he hadn’t? She was doomed, that’s what.
* * *
Billy was careful to get every last bit of the glass. Kate often went barefoot, and he didn’t want her or Charlie to step on a piece he might have missed. He was guiding the last shard into the dustpan when someone called his name.
Kate’s friend darted across the lawn like a preppie mobster in a black suit with a black shirt. He held out a key. “My dad forgot to give this to Kate. So she could look after the house. You know, if she’s still here.”
What Billy wanted to do was tell Jeff that she wouldn’t be able to do that since she’d be back in Jersey. With him. But he didn’t; he just pocketed the key.
“So what do you play?” Billy asked, leaning on the broom.
“Play?”
“Yeah. What instrument do you play?”
Jeff rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I studied piano as a kid, but I’d hardly call that playing.” He laughed. “In fact, I’m certain my piano teacher would definitely not call what I did playing.”
“You said you had a rehearsal.”
“Oh. Sorry. Wedding rehearsal.” He held up a white clerical collar; something that Billy had failed to notice. “I’m a priest.”
A priest? Relief filtered through his veins and he had an overwhelming desire to laugh. Fortunately, he was able to control himself. “Ah. Well, you have fun!”
He was more than certain he’d already cleaned up every last sliver of glass before, but kept sweeping until he could control the grin covering his face.
Was this actually happening?
Less than eight hours ago, he’d been sitting at the kitchen counter with his head in his hands.