“You have custody of Fletcher?”
“Temporarily.”
“Why not adopt him? Will Carlos relinquish his parental rights?”
Hayley sighed. “I don’t know if he will or not, but even if he does, I can’t adopt Fletcher. There’s too much bad blood between me and Carlos. This arrangement is only temporary. I applied to be a foster mother so I can keep Fletcher until the dust settles. I’ve discovered that the wheels of the Child Welfare Department turn very slowly.”
She saw no point in giving Ray the details as to why keeping Fletcher would be the worst thing for both of them. If Carlos got out of jail, he’d come looking for her. He’d make good on his threat, she was sure of it. He’d make her pay for interfering not only in Steffie’s life, but his son’s as well. There was nothing Ray or anyone else could do to prevent that. Before Carlos tracked her down, she hoped to see Fletcher safely placed elsewhere, preferably with a loving, adoptive family.
This was her problem. She’d made Carlos her enemy, and she’d have to deal with it. She couldn’t risk involving a friend like Andre. He’d take up her cause without a second thought, but if he got hurt or worse, she’d never forgive herself. And a guy like Ray? He was ready to go after Carlos right now. If he knew any more details, he’d want to fix things. Get the authorities involved or approach Carlos himself. Hayley shuddered at the thought. She didn’t need a knight in shining armor to rescue her. All she had to do was keep a low profile, protect Fletcher until a family was found for him and then get as far away from Perrish, Florida as she could.
Carlos had been arrested twice since she’d known him, and somehow he always managed to obtain a get out of jail free card. Witnesses disappeared or ended up in the hospital. Evidence seemed to vanish into thin air. Carlos had friends in that tight-knit community of his. She could fight tooth and nail for custody of Fletcher before she let him go back to his father, but she’d probably end up either dead or close to it for the effort. And what good would that do Fletcher? She didn’t trust the justice system. She could only hope that this time Carlos would remain behind bars, and that he’d give Fletcher up without a fight. She stood, and since Ray still held her hand, he stood too. That put them face to face.
“Thanks for telling me,” Ray said. He stepped closer, and Hayley quivered inside, thinking he would kiss her now. Half of her trembled in fear of what that might lead to, and the other half begged for it to happen. A little voice reminded her that if she wasn’t safe from Carlos, neither was anyone else who got close to her.
Ray enfolded her in his arms and held her until she relaxed. She marveled at how good it felt. She hadn’t been hugged in a very long time. She was nearly breathless with anticipation and trepidation.
“I’m not planning to stay here. In Perrish, I mean.” Best to get her intentions out in the open, discourage anything he might be thinking about the possibilities for the two of them. “I’m moving to L.A. as soon as I can.”
“Are you?”
“Uh huh. I have a job waiting for me there.”
“It’s good to have a plan. I’m sure it will all work out,” he told her softly.
With her head pressed against his shoulder, Hayley’s mind went blank. An “Mmm,” of agreement was all she could manage.
Again that night, instead of waking up constantly, tossing and turning, his sleep interrupted by weird dreams that filled him with a sense of dread for the coming day, Ray slept well and woke with what felt like a sense of purpose.
Through his morning routine of making coffee, showering and shaving, he thought about Hayley and Fletcher. No doubt about it, he was seriously attracted to Hayley, whether he wanted to be or not. Whether he was ready to deal with that kind of attraction or not. There it was.
She was nothing like his wife. Maybe that was why she appealed to him. But one thing she had in common with his wife—she was hiding some important stuff about herself. There was a lot going on beneath Hayley’s well-shaped exterior, a lot he didn’t know and probably a lot she didn’t want him to know.
Too bad, honey, Ray thought as he wiped the last of the shaving cream from his face. I’m going to find out every last detail.
He’d leave no stone unturned. He’d know Hayley inside and out, and she wouldn’t be able to hide anything from him. Not the way Caroline had.
If Hayley was as attracted to him as he was to her, which was what he chose to believe, she fought it with everything she had. He poured a mug of coffee and rummaged in the cabinet for the box of cereal he knew he’d put there. Finding it, he filled a bowl and splashed milk over it. At the table, he pulled the newspaper toward him and scanned the sports section while he ate.
But thoughts of Hayley and Fletcher nibbled at the corners of his mind. He finished the cereal and poured more coffee, and leaned against the counter to sip it. Her ex-husband had done a number on her. She didn’t want to get hurt again.
Well then, Ray told himself, you’ll have to see that you don’t hurt her.
Vaguely he wondered if she’d meant what she said about moving to L.A. And if so, what it would take to change her mind. She said she couldn’t adopt Fletcher. Couldn’t or wouldn’t? Or didn’t want to? He wondered which it was. And whether she’d change her mind about that as well.
He knew he was getting ahead of himself, anticipating this potential future with a woman he’d only known for a couple of weeks, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t think he could describe to anyone what it had been like the past couple of years after Caroline died. Wandering from place to place, living like a zombie, almost. Dragging himself into each new day and spending every one of them wishing he could go back and change what he’d done. Things he’d said. Choices he’d made.
He’d come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t change any of it. Death had finalized his actions. His only choice was to move forward, or at least laterally. Return to Perrish, restart his business, try to live his life in a way that would minimize future regret.
He wasn’t getting any younger. Spending time with Molly made him realize how much he wanted a family of his own. And seeing Rick with his new wife, with a baby on the way, made him even more sharply aware of what he’d lost.
He’d liked being married, having a partner, someone to share life with. He’d liked discovering bits and pieces of Caroline even after he thought he knew her so well. Of course, that was before he learned she’d abused his trust.
He hadn’t thought he’d meet a woman he’d want to try marriage with again until he’d come across Hayley in the grocery store. Something about her, her and Fletcher, pulled him out of himself, made him interested. Made him care. He was ready to invest in something besides his own misery, and it felt pretty good. The truth he’d admitted to himself was that wallowing in self-pity was damn boring.
He’d watched Fletcher yesterday. The kid was no dummy. But he kept everything locked inside. Or almost everything. His eyes and his body language often gave him away. He’d seen how Fletcher interacted with Molly. Even without words, he’d warmed to her. He held back verbally the same way Hayley held so much of herself inside. But for both of them, there was a lot going on below the surface. If he scratched, Ray wondered what he’d find.
That reminded Ray of his plan to look up Hayley in his high school yearbooks. He wondered if he’d be able to find them. He went into the second bedroom and opened the closet. He and Caroline had used this room mostly for storage, although there was a futon against one wall in the unlikely event of an overnight guest. Eventually, Caroline had planned to turn it into a nursery. But she never got the chance.
His wife had been an organizational neat freak, and so the boxes were all neatly stacked and clearly labeled. The one marked Ray – School Stuff was on the bottom. Ray set the other few boxes to the side of the closet and pulled out the one he wanted. Opening it, he sifted through odds and ends. The tassel from his graduation cap. Photos from proms and homecomings and sports. Some cards from birthdays and other events. A
few notebooks and essays along with a not particularly good drawing of some fruit and a pitcher from a long-ago art class. He couldn’t imagine why Caroline had bothered saving it.
On the bottom, stacked in reverse chronological order, were four yearbooks. If Hayley had been a year or two behind him in school, then he only needed to look in the ones from his junior and senior year. The pages were stiff with age and emitted the musty, stale scent of teenage years left behind. He opened the book from his junior year first and checked through the freshmen photos. Since he didn’t know her maiden name, he ran his finger through the names listed looking for “Hayley”.
And there she was. Hayley Merritt.
Ray studied the picture of a younger Hayley. A cute kid with long, dark blonde hair and those big, blue-green eyes. She could be a poster girl for the All-American girl. A ghost of a smile played around her lips, as if even then she had secrets she wasn’t quite willing to share.
He looked her up in the back of the book to see where else she’d been featured and flipped to those pages. He smiled at the picture of her at the top of the JV cheerleading squad’s pyramid formation. She’d also joined the Drama Club.
In his senior yearbook, he found her again in the sophomore section. She hadn’t changed much, though her hair was shorter and styled differently. Her interests hadn’t changed much either, but she’d joined the track team and gone to the state finals.
He repacked the books and other memorabilia and stacked the boxes back in the closet.
As he passed his desk on the way back to the kitchen, he paused. His laptop blinked insistently, as if sending him a signal. Without a second thought he sat and opened the web browser. Once online, he typed in “Hayley Christopher” and started reading.
Chapter Five
A couple of mornings later, Fletcher surprised Ray by opening the door seconds after he knocked.
“Hey, buddy. Where’s Hayley?”
Ray scanned the living area behind Fletcher before focusing once again on the boy. Fletcher glanced over his shoulder at the hallway that led to the bathroom and bedrooms.
Ray crossed the threshold and closed the door. “You want to go tell her I’m here?”
Fletcher took Ray’s hand with both of his and pulled him in the direction of the closed bathroom door. Ray was about to knock when he heard the unmistakable sound of retching.
He hunkered in front of Fletcher. “You want to go see if there are any good cartoons on? I’ll come watch with you for a little while after I see how Hayley’s doing, okay?”
Fletcher’s dark gaze searched his and seemed satisfied with whatever it was he saw. He marched off to the sofa and the remote control.
Ray turned back to the door. The retching had ceased. He heard Hayley groan. He tapped lightly. “Hayley?”
Another groan followed by a toilet flush.
“Can I come in?”
He thought he heard her mumble something but when there was no further response he began to ease the door open. “I’m coming in.”
“Oh, please don’t,” Hayley moaned.
Too late. He was already in. The bathroom was tiny, barely enough space for two people. Hayley was wedged against the bathtub, her arm draped around the curve of the toilet seat to cushion her head. She looked like she obviously felt—horrible.
“What happened? Did you get hold of a bad pot pie?”
A response somewhere between a cough and a laugh erupted from her throat. “Migraine.”
She covered her eyes with her hands.
Ray wasn’t sure what to do. He got down on her level. “Do you have anything you can take for it?”
Hayley nodded, eyes still covered.
“Where is it? I’ll get it for you.”
“Took it. Threw it up.”
“Oh.”
He thought for a moment. He knew next to nothing about migraine headaches. “Tell me what I can do.”
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she whispered.
“Are you going to stay in the bathroom all day?”
“No.”
He could barely hear her. “Want to get back in bed?”
She nodded.
He touched her arm. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
She dropped her hands and squinted at him. “Please don’t be nice to me.”
“Okay. No more Mr. Nice Guy.” He helped her up and waited in the hallway while she rinsed her mouth. Then he made her lean on him, whether she wanted to or not. Her rumpled bed was covered in pink-and-white checked sheets and a white eyelet comforter embroidered with tiny pink flowers. The wrought iron headboard was a maze of white curlicues. It all looked girly and soft and oddly inviting.
Her bedroom could use a man’s touch, or at least a man, but Ray wasn’t about to suggest such a thing at the moment.
She shed the thin cotton robe she wore and crawled under the sheet. But not before Ray got a view of a baby blue camisole and blue checked sleep shorts. Keeping her eyes closed, she fumbled for the nightstand drawer. He opened it for her. “What do you need?”
“Sleep mask.”
He withdrew one made of hot pink silk. She grabbed it and drew it over her eyes, adjusting the elastic at the back of her head. “Light hurts my eyes,” she explained. She eased back onto the pillow.
“Get some sleep. I’ll see you later.”
She snapped the sleep mask up. “I can’t sleep all day. Fletcher—”
He pressed a finger against her lips. “I’ve got it covered.”
“But—”
“He can hang out with me. I’ve got some errands to run. A couple of things to do at the shop. I’ll buy him one of those kid meals for lunch. It’ll be fine.”
Her eyes welled up. “Please stop being nice to me.”
One tear overflowed her lid. He swiped at it with his forefinger. “Too late.” He pushed her gently back in the direction of the pillows and lowered the eye shade for her. “Get some sleep.”
Hayley came awake slowly, assessing her condition as she did. She removed the sleep mask and blinked to clear her vision. The window shade was closed, but that didn’t stop the brutal Florida sun from penetrating the edges.
She eased herself to a semi-sitting position. Her headache was reduced to a dull throb behind her eyes, and her stomach had settled. She felt a little shaky, as she always did after a bad migraine, but she was a thousand percent better than she had been this morning.
A glance at the bedside clock told her it was after noon. She pushed the sheet back, picked up her robe and made her way to the bathroom. A slow, careful pace kept the throbbing to a minimum.
“Oh God.” She cringed at her reflection. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Her hair was a disaster. Her complexion had a grayish pallor to it. The inside of her mouth tasted disgusting.
She squeezed toothpaste onto her brush and dealt with that first. Everything else could wait.
She padded to the kitchen, noticing the empty living room. It was odd to be in the house without Fletcher. He was always there. Silent. Questioning. As if gauging the varying levels of her inadequacy. She hadn’t saved his mother. She couldn’t seem to help him. As fond as she’d become of him, Fletcher made her feel like a failure.
She sniffed, hating the self-pity that overwhelmed her in her weakest moments. The truth was, she’d felt like a failure long before she’d taken custody of Fletcher. But his silence made her feel like more of one.
From the cabinet over the refrigerator, she found her prescription migraine medication. She downed one tablet with a glass of cold water. Probably she should eat something, but nothing in the refrigerator or cupboards appealed to her.
She went back to bed and snuggled under the covers. She closed her eyes, thinking how nice it was that Ray had volunteered to watch Fletcher. He should stop being nice to her. This morning she’d been barely holding it together, and when Ray appeared she was afraid even his small acts of kindness would edge her into a sob fest. He probably hadn’t understood when she’d
told him to stop being nice to her. She hadn’t fallen apart, but she found herself even more attracted to him, if such a thing were possible. That fluttery, ripply feeling that ran through her every time she was near him warned her to keep her distance. But she found keeping her distance nearly impossible. For one thing, he lived next door to her. For another, she didn’t want to keep her distance. She wanted to get closer and closer and closer.
And then what? she asked herself.
You know what.
Shades of her ex-husband swam before her eyes. Once upon a time, he’d stirred those same feelings in her. She’d fallen head over heels in love with Trey and allowed her own dreams and plans to be overshadowed by his. She’d married him, believed him when he said they’d be together forever. The star football player and the professional cheerleader. Surely that was a match made in heaven, wasn’t it?
But Hayley had watched it slowly fall apart, and she’d been powerless to stop it. The star football player wasn’t indestructible. When he stopped being a star, he didn’t need a cheerleader any more. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He still liked having cheerleaders around. Except for the one he’d married.
Hayley squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could squeeze out the memories as well. Finding Trey in bed with one of the cute new rookie cheerleaders. Watching him spiral downhill on booze and prescription painkillers. Listening as he lashed out at her, blamed her, mocked her. He’d pushed her out of their home and out of his life.
And she’d walked away with virtually nothing. After seven years of marriage, she’d managed to retain only a few pieces of furniture and her car. She’d foolishly signed a pre-nuptial agreement at the insistence of Trey’s agent right before he’d been drafted. Hayley hadn’t cared. She’d been in love. She wasn’t marrying Trey for his money, which he didn’t have at the time anyway. She’d been anxious to prove she was marrying for love.
A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2 Page 5
