A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2

by Barbara Meyers

  Ray touched her arm and heat radiated through her. He set a full wineglass in front of her and opened a beer, leaned back against the counter and took a sip. His gaze moved from Hayley to the kids and back again. “They’ll be fine. I told Molly about Fletcher.”

  Hayley took a tentative sip of her wine. “What did you tell her?”

  “That I’ve never heard him speak, but other than that, he seems like a pretty normal kid.”

  “Does he?” Hayley glanced Fletcher’s way again. He seemed to be getting the hang of the game. He drew cards and moved his game piece by himself now.

  “She asked why he doesn’t talk, and I told her I didn’t know.”

  Hayley looked at Ray. He’d crossed his arms over his chest, his beer held in one hand. He looked relaxed and not all that curious about Fletcher.

  “He’s, um, he’s not my child,” Hayley told him in a low voice. She took another sip of wine. Her nerves were humming, which might be due to Ray’s close proximity and her reaction to him in spite of all her best efforts to ignore the effect he had on her. She felt reckless, like if she didn’t stop herself in time, she’d tell him every detail of her life, lay all the ugliness out there before him and see what he thought of her then.

  “Yeah. I sort of got that impression.”

  Hayley looked to see if there was meanness behind his comment, but she didn’t find any. Ray was merely stating a fact.

  Still it stung a little. “I know. I’m not any better as a mother than I am at rescuing pizza from the oven before it burns.” She took a bigger sip of wine. She had a feeling she was going to need more than one glass to get through this evening.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean anything like that. Damn.” He ran a hand through his hair and turned to the counter behind him. He took a swig from his beer bottle and set it down to flip the steaks he had marinating on a plate.

  Hayley stared into her wineglass. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little sensitive about my maternal skills. It doesn’t come naturally to me. Not every woman’s cut out for it, you know?”

  “I guess not,” Ray muttered.

  Great, Hayley, she congratulated herself. You’re not in the door five minutes and you’re already off on the wrong foot. She stepped closer to him and touched his shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly. “Can we start over?”

  When he turned his head, his gaze met hers. “We seem to do that a lot, don’t we?”

  She dropped her hand, far too aware of the contact. She tried for a smile and thought she made it. “You know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”

  She picked up her wineglass and held it up to him. “How about a toast?” He picked up his bottle of beer. “To a friendly, neighborly evening.”

  “To a friendly, neighborly evening,” he agreed. The glass clinked. They both breathed a sigh of relief.

  While Ray tended to the grill, Hayley managed to get the potatoes into the microwave and push what she hoped were the appropriate buttons. Last time she’d attempted to microwave a potato, it had exploded. She poked her head out the sliding door to double-check with Ray about the time, and he gave his approval.

  “Good, then I can relax,” she told herself. She topped off her wine and thought about joining Ray outside. But that meant she’d be alone with him, and that, she had decided, wasn’t a good idea. Better to hang out with Fletcher and Molly until dinner was ready.

  Ray had already set his dining table, which looked like a work of art in oak. It was polished to a glossy sheen, and the chairs had beautiful carved backs. The rest of Ray’s furniture looked to be of good quality and barely used. A microfiber sectional sofa in a neutral shade of beige was arranged before the television set housed in an entertainment center that looked like it had been designed for the space. It was the same oak, Hayley realized, as she wandered the room, with the same carving on the cabinet doors. She ran her hand over it, impressed by the craftsmanship.

  The shelves held a collection of paperback fiction, CDs, DVDs and a few knicknacks. Behind a stack of CD cases she noticed a picture frame. Carefully, she edged it forward, moving the CDs aside.

  Well, that figures, she thought. The picture was a head shot of a slightly younger Ray, maybe five or six years ago, and a woman with pretty, delicate features and wispy, strawberry-blonde hair. She was posed behind him, her arms draped around his shoulders. His hands grasped her wrists. She had a chunky diamond ring on her left ring finger, and his sported a plain gold wedding band. The ex, no doubt.

  Hayley put the picture back where she’d found it, thinking at least she and Ray had something in common. In the photograph, the two of them looked happy and in love. Once upon a time, she and Trey had posed together for similar pictures. She took a gulp of wine, hoping it would banish her bitter thoughts.

  Other than the coffee table, where Molly and Fletcher were still engrossed in their game, the room held end tables, matching lamps and little else.

  Hayley wandered back to the kitchen. She looked out to see Ray standing near the smoking grill, gazing off into the distance, his empty beer bottle dangling from his fingers.

  Ignoring her earlier warnings to herself, she grabbed another beer from the refrigerator and opened the sliding door. Ray turned and watched her advance toward him. She held out the beer and he took it, setting the empty bottle on an old wooden picnic table which sat squarely in the middle of the concrete pad.

  “Need any help?” She nodded toward the grill.

  “Nah, I’d hate to have to call in the fire department.” He poked her playfully in the ribs, and she laughed. She sat down on the top of the picnic table and propped her feet on the bench seat. “You looked like you were deep in thought. I decided you needed more alcohol.”

  Ray shrugged and joined her at the table. “No point in thinking about things you can’t change, I guess.” He took a swig of beer. He held the bottle up to eye level. “Two’s about my limit. Otherwise I get—well, it’s a sad and depressing sight if I have more.”

  Hayley held up her wineglass. “Me too. I allow myself one glass in the evening. If I have two, I tend to babble about things I shouldn’t.”

  “Like what?”

  “The story of my life to date. I don’t come out looking too good as the star of my own show.”

  “Me neither, if it makes you feel any better.”

  “You’ve got an ex, huh? I saw the picture of the two of you on the shelf in there.” Hayley didn’t care if she was invading his privacy. She wanted to know what had happened between him and the woman in the picture.

  Ray coughed and stood, leaving his beer on the table. “She died.”

  “Oh!” She’d assumed if Ray was single he’d been divorced, not widowed. "I’m sorry,” Hayley told him, recovering her manners.

  “Me too.” He lifted the lid on the grill and poked at the hot dogs. Satisfied, he transferred them onto a plate he’d brought out earlier. “These steaks are going to need a few more minutes.” He closed the lid and handed her the plate. “Want to take these in and get the salad and stuff ready? I’ll be in in a minute.”

  She stood. “Sure.” She escaped back into the house. Great, Hayley. The first time he invites you over and what do you do? Ask about his dead wife. Brilliant.

  “How’s the game going over there?” she asked Molly and Fletcher. “Are you about ready to eat?”

  “Yes,” Molly replied. “Fletcher won. He’s good at Candyland.”

  Fletcher glanced at Hayley as if he wasn’t quite sure about the accuracy of that statement.

  “You guys want to go wash your hands?”

  “Okay. Come on, Fletcher. Uncle Ray has soap that smells like the ocean. I’ll show you.”

  Fletcher followed Molly to the bathroom. Hayley removed the salad from the refrigerator and set it on the table. Ray had used red placemats and plain white ceramic plates. White paper napkins.

  Hayley rescued the potatoes from the microwave. Apparently they’d survived the trip.

  Ray came in with the
steaks on a plate. “Ready?” he asked.

  “As ready as I’m going to be.”

  Chapter Four

  Hayley decided she’d be better off if she didn’t finish her wine, and she noticed Ray drank only about half of his second beer. They both switched to iced tea. Molly was a charming child, full of questions and observations, most of them directed at Ray, but she caught Hayley off-guard when she asked about Fletcher’s mother.

  Hayley darted a glance at Ray and couldn’t help notice Fletcher stiffen.

  “She, uh, well, honey, Fletcher’s mommy died.”

  Molly’s expression clouded. She fixed her gaze on Fletcher. “I’m sorry your mommy died. She’s probably in heaven by now.” She sent Ray a look. “That’s where Aunt Caroline is too, right?” Without waiting for a reply, she reached over and patted Fletcher’s hand. “Don’t worry, though. You can get a new mommy.”

  “Molly,” Ray cautioned.

  She turned her gaze on him. “He can. I got a new mommy and Fletcher can too.” She returned her attention to Fletcher. “You have to pray is all. I prayed for a mommy who lived with me, and I got Kaylee. She’s my mommy that lives with me and Daddy now. My other mommy lives in ’Lanta with Jim.”

  Ray looked Hayley’s way and rolled his eyes in a “Can you believe this kid?” kind of way.

  “God listens to kids’ prayers.” She directed this statement to the table at large. She shot another look at Ray. “If you prayed for a new wife, I bet God would get you one.”

  Ray took her comment in stride. “I don’t know, Molly. I’m not a kid anymore. Maybe God won’t listen to me.” He winked at Hayley.

  “I think he would. It just might take him longer because you’re old.” She took a bite of hot dog, chewed and swallowed. “Do you go to Sunday school?” she demanded of Fletcher.

  Fletcher looked at Hayley. “Uh, no, honey, he doesn’t. I think he’s a little young for Sunday school.”

  “He can come with me if he wants. Miss Cathy won’t care. As long as he bees quiet.”

  This brought a chuckle from Ray, and even Hayley had to smile.

  Molly helped clear the table before she invited Fletcher to watch the movie Ray had rented. Fletcher seemed happy to follow Molly’s lead. Ray set out a plate of Oreos and poured milk. They each had a small bowl of Gummi Bears as well. Molly retrieved pillows and a blanket and created a nest for the two of them on the sofa.

  “Want to go outside?” he asked after the kids were settled. “You can sneak a cigarette.”

  “Sure.”

  Ray had two cushioned chairs on either side of a small table on his front porch. It was almost dark when they took their seats. The air was warm and humid. A couple of squirrels chattered at each other from neighboring pine trees. Down the street, two boys shot hoops and traded friendly taunts. Hardly any cars went by.

  “I’ll stand guard if you want to light up,” Ray told her.

  Hayley shook her head. “I’m not addicted. Not yet, anyway. I’m a strict one-cigarette-a-night kind of girl. It’s a stupid habit. I don’t know why I do it. One glass of wine. One cigarette. After Fletcher goes to bed. Makes me feel like I’m getting away with something, I guess.”

  “Ah. Must be the rebel in you.”

  “I think it’s more like a treat. Something I deserve.”

  “You probably deserve a lot more than a cigarette and a glass of wine.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s nobody else around who thinks so.” Hayley immediately regretted the bitterness that crept into her voice, the way her comments bordered on sarcasm. “Sorry.” She softened her tone. “I didn’t used to be such a downer.”

  Ray shrugged but didn’t say anything. Hayley found she liked that about him. He didn’t feel compelled to correct her negative comments or make her feel better about herself. He let her own her outbursts. He didn’t pry into her secrets. “About Fletcher…”

  He glanced at her.

  “I’ll tell you about him. If you want to know.”

  “Sure.”

  “Fletcher is my stepsister’s son. She died a few months ago from a heroin overdose.” Hayley cleared her throat, second-guessing her decision to tell Ray about Steffie. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “Lay it on me.”

  “My mother and her father were married to each other for a while when I was a teenager. I’d always wanted a little sister, so I was thrilled. Neither of our parents was particularly good with children. Maybe we bonded over that. Their marriage only lasted a couple of years, but I always thought of Stef as my little sister, and we kept in touch. We were both living in North Florida, so we saw each other every once in a while.

  “Then I went to college in North Carolina before I got married.” She turned to look directly at him. “That didn’t work out, as you know.

  “Steffie’s dad was gone a lot and she was on her own. She did what most kids do in that situation. She got into trouble. Drugs, boys, a few minor arrests followed by probation.

  “She wanted so badly to be loved.” Hayley cleared her throat again and went on.

  “When she got a little older, she wanted to straighten her life out. I tried to help her, but she never quite got it together. Somehow she hooked up with this drug dealer, Carlos. Next thing I knew she was pregnant.”

  Hayley glanced at Ray. He was listening, watching her. “Carlos never wanted her to have the baby, and Stef had no idea how to take care of Fletcher.

  “I didn’t see them a whole lot when Fletcher was younger, even though they lived in Jacksonville. I was too caught up in my own life. When I did see Stef, I could tell things were not good. She looked horrible. She’d lost weight. There was something off about her, but when I asked about her drug use, she wouldn’t admit to anything. She’d insist everything was fine, that she was happy.

  “I didn’t know she’d started doing heroin. I’m sure Carlos got her on it. Having her addicted made her easier to control.” Hayley clenched her fists, thinking about the man who’d threatened her and warned her to stay away from Steffie.

  Ray reached over and covered one of Hayley’s clenched fists with his hand. She relaxed her fist, and he slid his fingers around hers. She took a deep breath, wanting to finish the story and control her reaction to Ray’s touch.

  “A couple of months before she died, I planned an outing for her birthday. It seems so frivolous now, but I wanted, I don’t know, to do something for her I knew she’d never do for herself. She had to sneak out of the apartment with Fletcher so I could take her to my hairdresser. I kept Fletcher entertained while she got the works.”

  What Hayley left out was how difficult she’d found keeping company with a young child. He quickly grew bored with the coloring book and crayons she’d brought him, but managed to easily entertain himself with a handful of toy cars she purchased at the pharmacy near the salon. Nor did she mention Niko, the only member of Carlos’s entourage that she and Steffie trusted.

  “When we got back, Carlos was livid. He already hated me because I tried more than once to get Steffie to come and live with me, or go into rehab, anything but stay with him. He followed me to my car and told me if I ever came near her again, he’d make me regret it.”

  Even now Hayley could recall Carlos’s hot breath in her face, the evil lurking behind his dark eyes. While a couple of the guys he hung with watched, he’d twisted her arm up behind her back, nearly jerking it from the socket to make his point. He’d like nothing better than to make her pay for caring about what happened to Stef. How, she’d asked herself for the thousandth time, had Stef ever become involved with this guy?

  She knew he’d enjoy putting his threats into action, but after an instinctive grunt of pain, she refused to cry out or give in. Instead she stared him down until Niko appeared. Although Carlos didn’t know it, Niko was her conduit to Steffie. Niko was also the only one who seemed to have any influence over Carlos. “Rough up a rich bitch like this, and we’ll have cops crawling all over us,” he reminded
Carlos. Carlos and Niko then exchanged a few words in Spanish that Hayley couldn’t follow. Seconds later, Carlos shoved her away in disgust.

  “I stayed away then, because I didn’t want to make things worse for Steffie. One day a couple of months later I found four missed calls from her on my cell phone. When I couldn’t reach her, I went over to their apartment.” She paused, squeezing Ray’s fingers. He squeezed back. She realized she hadn’t told anyone about that day. Not in this kind of detail, not in a way that forced her to relive it.

  “No one answered, but the door was unlocked. When I went in, I found Stef on the bathroom floor, a needle sticking out of her arm. She came to for about thirty seconds when I got to her. She looked at me with these big eyes, begging for something. I don’t know what. Help? Forgiveness? I didn’t know what to do.

  “All she said was ‘Fletcher. Take care. No Carlos.’ I called 9-1-1, but she died before the paramedics arrived.”

  Hayley brushed away the tears that overflowed her eyes. Stupid, stupid, useless tears. Tears wouldn’t bring Steffie back. Tears wouldn’t fix Fletcher.

  “Fletcher was locked in his room. He was crying, beating on the door trying to get out. He was dirty and hungry. I took him with me. He hasn’t spoken in the four months I’ve had him.”

  “Where’s Carlos?” Hayley looked up when she heard Ray’s harsh tone.

  “Still in jail as far as I know. He was arrested for assault shortly after Steffie died.”

  “Who’d he assault? You?”

  Hayley’s eyes widened. “N-no. Although he has threatened me, and he did come after me once. Like I said, he hates me.”

  Her friend Andre and Carlos had nearly come to blows after Steffie’s funeral when Carlos put his hands on her. Niko and a couple of others from Carlos’s posse pulled him away. No one else had heard the words he meant only for her ears. I’ll make you pay, bitch. I’ll make you pay. “To be honest, I don’t know who he assaulted or why. Carlos is an unpredictable hothead who doesn’t need a good reason for anything he does.”

  “Sounds like a hell of a guy. I’d like to meet him and beat the crap out of him.” Ray sounded so serious and matter-of-fact, it made Hayley smile.