by Lee Kilraine
And that’s what they did as Mama Cates watched and called encouragements from the bleachers. There was bitching. There was moaning. And insults, jokes, some singing, and maybe even a little crying. But they finished. And then they collapsed. They lay side by side on the track, struggling to move air in and out of their lungs while they looked up at the sky.
“We need to stretch,” she said without moving.
“I would, but I can’t move.”
“Same here. We need to stretch anyway,” she said. “Am I moving yet?”
Marcus rolled his head to the side to look. “Nope. I’m pretty sure you were bitching more than me on that last lap.”
“Guilty. This prosthesis wasn’t made to run on. It hurt like a moth—I heard that, Mama Cates! Uh, a monster.”
Marcus glanced down at Delaney’s sweatsuit-covered legs. “Why don’t you get one of those models made to run on?”
“I honestly never thought I’d run again. Ever.” She kept staring up at the puffy clouds overhead as she thought it over. It was a big commitment. Up until now, she’d been in survival mode, waiting for Greer to give up on her since she’d already given up on herself. This would be her first positive step toward accepting her new reality since the explosion. Was she ready to live again? She sat up and leaned forward to stretch her hamstrings.
Sitting up, Marcus copied Delaney’s stretching motions, still waiting for her answer. “Well?”
“I’m thinking.” She changed position, stretching out her hip flexors and then her back muscles. She had a lot to lose. But so did Marcus. “I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I’ll talk it over with them.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout! High five!” Marcus held his large hand up for Delaney’s. “Hey, don’t leave me hangin’ now.”
“Not so fast.” She stood up and brushed off the seat of her sweats. “I just agreed to take a big chance. What are you going to do?”
“I’m trying to watch what I eat.” His gaze slid away. “It’s hard, man.”
“By yourself it is. It was recently pointed out to me that trying to go it alone is pretty impossible and totally unnecessary.” Delaney watched as Marcus took his turn to consider his commitment level. “If you want to succeed, you probably need to ask your parents if they’re willing to do this with you.”
He maneuvered up onto one knee and then, with a hand from Delaney, eased up onto his feet. He shuffled over to his bag to grab his water bottle and guzzle some down.
“What’s it going to be? Are you all in or not?”
Marcus let out a heavy sigh and looked at Delaney. “I ain’t gonna fold. I’m in too. I’ll talk to my parents tonight.”
“Woo hoo! High five!” Mama Cates cheered, holding her hand in the air.
Both Marcus and Delaney looked at her. No. Just no. They looked into each other’s eyes. This no longer felt like a “high five” moment. They nodded at each other and shared a subdued fist bump.
“Take some ibuprofen and stretch tonight. Good luck with your parents.”
“Good luck with your doctor. And your boy toy.”
Delaney narrowed her eyes up at him. “You have a mean streak in you, you know that? You’re lucky I don’t, or I’d tell you all about the three-scoop ice cream sundae with chocolate and caramel sauces I plan to have tonight. With whipped cream.”
Marcus groaned.
“Oh, that’s right. I do have a mean streak. My bad.”
“Delaney,” Mama Cates hissed at her as they started toward the parking lot. “Be nice to that sweet boy.”
“Mama C, I’m not a nice person.”
“Sure you’re not,” Mama Cates said. “You’re a big, mean marshmallow, that’s what you are, Delaney Lyons.”
“Tomorrow, Marcus!” Delaney called over her shoulder as she limped along the sidewalk to the car. “All right, Mama C. Now that you’ve met bachelor number two, would you mind keeping it a secret? It’s just that this is the one place I can come to get away from everything. Marcus sure as heck doesn’t need to share my fish bowl with me.”
“My lips are sealed.” Mama Cates wrapped her arm around Delaney’s shoulders and gave her a gentle hug.
Chapter Twenty-one
Delaney sat in the car with the weight of her life resettling on her shoulders. The farther they drove from the track, the more she tensed up. Deep down inside, she was nervous about the doctor’s appointments tomorrow. Fear sat on her chest like a fifty-pound sandbag, making it hard to breathe. Fear of failing. Fear of discovering what horrible thing her mind was blocking out. Fear of getting to the root of her guilt. She wanted to slam the door on it all, slide home the triple locks, and shove a heavy dresser against it too.
“I hope you don’t mind, I thought it would be lovely to have a home-cooked family supper.” Mama C put the car in park and turned off the engine. “And Seamus wants to meet you. Greer and Quinn should be along in a bit.”
Delaney glanced out the window at the Cateses’ graceful Colonial house. Her lips tilted up automatically, looking at it. “I used to pass by your house on my way to the library. There was always the sound of laughter or screaming boys coming from it.”
“I forget that even though this was practically Greer’s second home, you’ve never been here.” Mama Cates looked at Delaney with serious eyes. “I wish—ach, no point in that, is there? We’ve fixed it now, so no time for regrets.”
“Fixed what?”
“The way things were. You were too independent for your own good, Delaney Lyons. But maybe you needed to be to survive your parents . . . and even this, the explosion, amnesia, your injuries. Not anymore though.” Mama Cates got out of the car to open the trunk.
Delaney was a little slower getting out of the car. “Ow. Mama C, I think those hair products seeped into my brain, because I’m having a little trouble following you.”
“Delaney, dear, grab those bags and follow me into the house. Don’t mind my rambling. It’s a result of raising five very active, one might even say wild, boys. I’m lucky I still have my sanity.” She hooked a few shopping bags on one arm and lifted her hand up on the trunk, waiting for Delaney to gather the others.
“Oh, Mama C, sanity is overrated. Sanity and I decided to part ways a long time ago. Sanity, bitch that she is, was dragging me down.” Delaney scooped up the remaining bags. There was so much stuff it took two hands. “Once sanity and I broke it off, life started spinning around like a well-oiled centrifuge. Now, life is a wild, scream-inducing ride, chaotic and colorful. No one expects me to follow the rules, and people leave me lots of space. Except your Quinn. He has no respect for personal boundaries. Was he a slow learner growing up?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s ‘your Quinn’ now, dear. Slow learner? His mind is quick as a whip, but not many people noticed since they were all busy being dazzled by his athletic skills.”
Delaney shook her head. “Mama C, you’ve got to help me talk him out of being an idiot. I’m a bad bet. I am so wrong for him. If I promise not to sleep with him again—no, don’t laugh, I’m serious here—will you help me steer him to a better woman? Zeena, Yvette—hell, even Barbara has more going for her than I do.”
“Bite your tongue. And, promise not to sleep with him again? Delaney, you’re a strong woman, but even you are no match for Quinn when he wants something.” Mama Cates spoke over her shoulder as she led Delaney up the sidewalk to the front porch. “I believe there is one publicly acknowledged round of monkey sex that proves my point.”
Argh. “Why’d you have to raise him to be so . . . so smart, and funny, and solid, and hot? Couldn’t you at least have had his dimple surgically removed to protect the innocent, unsuspecting women of the world? Or let his brothers beat him up a few times? Dropped him on his head as a baby? Or not signed him up for charm lessons? I mean, shouldn’t we women look out for each other?”
“We absolutely should. I’ll talk to him and see what I can do about the situation.”
Delaney expe
lled a breath and nodded. Okay, good. This was the right thing to do.
Mama Cates unlocked the front door and ushered Delaney in through the two-story foyer and into a spacious and open living space. A bright, light space that looked lived in, like a home.
“Now, let me show you where you can shower and change into some of your new clothes and then you can come find me in the kitchen.”
“Mama C, I don’t need to cha—”
Mama Cates stopped Delaney in mid-sentence with that look. That universal look mothers have cultivated through time. Growing up with her dysfunctional mother had not prepared her for the power of that look. The guilt and coercion wrapped up together with love was a diabolical weapon. “Um, sure, Mama C.” Delaney backed up a few steps. “Just point me in the right direction.”
“That’s sweet, dear. Okay, down the hall. The third door on the right is the guest bedroom. There’s a bathroom attached. Take your time. Wash up. Rest. Just follow the smell of garlic and tomato sauce when you’re done.”
The guest bedroom was a quiet haven decorated in soothing colors with sunlight softly filtering in through the lace-covered windows. Delaney threw her shopping bags onto the end of the bed, deciding a quick shower sounded good after the shopping and running. She didn’t care how many women said shopping was fun and relaxing; it was damn hard work in her book.
Upending two of the bags, Delaney grabbed the first pair of jeans and shirt she found. She dumped out a third bag to find her white cotton bras and panties. The bright-colored thong panties were static clinging to her packages of Jockeys as if they were trying to lead them astray. She pulled them off, leaving them strewn over the bed as she headed into the bathroom for a hot shower.
Of course, Mama Cates had everything a guest would need. A basket on the vanity held a variety of shampoos, pretty soaps, body wash, disposable razors, toothbrushes, and yummy-smelling lotions. Delaney tried to wash her hair and shower quickly so she would be in time to help Mama Cates cook. She looked down at her prosthesis, grimacing. Boy howdy, the docs were going to chew her out tomorrow, but it was hard to be a thorough packer when you were tipsy and being kidnapped. Her blue suitcase with her shower prosthesis was sitting in her apartment in D.C. She was going to be in big trouble tomorrow since she’d made a mess of this one between showers and running. Hopefully, Dr. Evil wouldn’t hear about it all the way up in Washington.
She dried off with a fluffy green towel and smoothed on a peach-scented lotion. After a quick blow-dry of her hair, she slipped into her plain white ribbed tank top and white boy-short panties before heading back into the bedroom to finish dressing. The jeans were dark, and while they hugged her hips and thighs, they lightly flared out at the bottom. The shirt was a simple button-up in a soft beige tone. The silky fabric made it cling to her breasts and waist. She tried to pull it away from her chest, wondering how she hadn’t noticed this in the dressing room. Oh, well, it wasn’t as if she had a set like Barbie’s on display here, but having lived in baggy sweats for the past ten months, she felt exposed.
When she made her way out to the kitchen, Greer and Quinn were already there helping with the finishing touches to a large salad and what looked and smelled like garlic knots. She totally ignored Quinn’s heated head-to-toe gaze. Well, she tried, not that it mattered. Maybe she could blame her flushed face on the warm kitchen.
“You’re in luck.” Quinn wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Ma made spaghetti pie.”
“Can I help with anything, Mama C?” Delaney’s eyes veered quickly from Quinn. The man was trying to get her into trouble.
“We’re ready to eat. Grab a dish and we’ll head to the table.” Mama Cates handed her the basket of garlic knots. “Seamus, supper’s on. Come meet Delaney.”
“Delaney, it’s good to finally meet you. Call me Pop.” Quinn’s father took the basket of rolls from her with one hand and engulfed her other in a hearty handshake and threw in a wink. “If you just ignore every male in the Cates family except me, you’ll be safe.”
Tall and muscular like a lumberjack, it was clear where his sons got their looks and charisma. “Well, to be honest, your sons are hard to ignore. Some more than others,” Delaney said with her elbow into Quinn’s side since he stood too close to her. Again.
Quinn groaned, and Seamus gave an approving grunt. “I like a woman who doesn’t giggle and melt at their feet. I’ve seen too much of that over the years with the five of them.”
“Me too,” Delaney said, which made Seamus laugh. “What are all the others doing? I don’t think I’ve seen any of the other brothers since I came back to Climax.”
Mama Cates looked up, surprised. “You should have said something, Delaney. We would have invited them all over for dinner too. Kaz and Paxton both have offices over on Main Street. Tynan runs a small construction company, mostly rehabs of older homes in the area.”
“And what about Sijan? What does he do?” Delaney asked, looking at the faces around the table. “Does he live in town, too?”
Everyone stopped dishing food on their plates to look at her. What had she said? Had she said something wrong? “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I mean, if he’s in prison or um, dead, then of course you don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry I brought him up.” She threw Greer a desperate look to change the topic.
Instead, Greer laughed, along with everyone else. “Oh, Delaney, only you. Sijan is the biggest box office draw in Hollywood. He has been for the past five years. He was up for an Oscar last year.”
“Oh. I guess those years in drama club paid off, huh?” She shrugged and scooped some spaghetti pie onto her plate.
Quinn made a mental note to send his mom flowers. Not that he’d had any doubts when he and Greer had approached her about mothering Delaney, but he’d underestimated his mom’s speed. Two hours with his mom and Delaney looked more relaxed at dinner than he’d seen her since he left her in bed this morning—aw, hell, he shouldn’t have let his mind go there. Especially not with Delaney looking so damn hot.
He grimaced, knowing he wouldn’t have her in his arms tonight. Their truce was over, at least until he could figure out how to talk her into another one. And after the scene at the diner today, he’d decided he needed to back off and give her space to breathe with everything she was about to deal with. Her amnesia and panic attacks had moved to the top of that list.
She had looked right at Major Roubillard, a doctor she’d been stationed with, worked side by side with, and not recognized him. Except some part of her brain must have. That had to be what had set off her panic attack.
“Hey, Delaney.” Greer looked like she was inspecting the basket of garlic knots for quality control. “Does the name Major Roubillard ring a bell? I think you called him Doc Gary.”
Quinn watched Delaney’s face closely. Greer must be as worried as he was about another panic attack, and it looked like she was testing the waters.
Delaney sat back in her chair, her forehead creased in concentration. With a grimace, she dropped her fork to her plate and squeezed her head with her hands. “Dammit. I’m getting pretty sick of butting my head against this blank wall.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Greer shrugged. “You got a postcard from him, is all. I guess an Army buddy, maybe.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t know.” Her hands worried the napkin in her lap.
“Sometimes the universe unfolds things in the right order, no matter what we want to happen,” Seamus tried to reassure Delaney.
“That’s absolutely true.” Mama Cates reached over and patted Delaney’s shoulder.
“Maybe I can ask my doctor to hypnotize me when I see her tomorrow.” Delaney rubbed her forehead. “Shock therapy, voodoo, something. I’m tired of living in this fuzzy limbo.”
Greer sympathized. “I know it’s hard, but remember what your doctor told you. The brain works on its own time frame after trauma.”
“Own time frame? It’s like my brain’s stuck in a mini ice age.” Delaney stood up, picking up dishes t
o clear the table. “Glaciers pass by me in the fast lane.”
“Y’all sit. We’ve got it.” Quinn quickly grabbed up some dishes and followed her. He used his body to bump her out from in front of the sink. “Here, I’ll rinse and you can put them in the dishwasher.”
“You’re such a control freak.” She stuck her hands out, waiting for the first dish.
They worked as a team until all the dishes were cleared. Quinn turned to her, drying his hands on a dishtowel. “Ma invited you to stay with them for a bit. At least until we catch whoever vandalized your house.”
“Oh. Between losing it at the diner and our sleepover, I forgot someone was trying to run me out of town.” Delaney ran her hand across her forehead.
“I thought you’d prefer here since our truce is over. Unless you’re interested in extending it?” Today had been a stressful day for her, and tomorrow wouldn’t be easy either. “I could be there to hold you if your nightmare hits again.”
“Better not.” Her gaze skittered away from his.
Whoa, wait. What was that? Something had flashed across her face, and he’d swear it had looked like fear. “Are you worried about the nightmare?”
He bent his knees, trying to look into her eyes, but she made an abrupt about-face for the dining room. He reached out, grabbing her hand, wanting to make sure she was all right. “Delaney . . .”
Turning to face him, she pulled her hand slowly from his and wrapped her arms around her middle. “There’s more to the dream that I didn’t tell you. . . .
“I see children, pretty little girls with huge brown eyes looking up at me, reaching out to me, laughing, calling my name. I feel so happy to see them. My friends are standing next to me. Then they’re gone and I’m covered in blood and I . . .” Delaney looked directly into Quinn’s eyes, and the pain in hers shattered him. “I think it’s my fault they’re dead.”
