She’d made every classic mistake it was possible for a woman to make. She didn’t have even one credit card in her own name. She wasn’t on the deed to the elegant home she’d shared with Trey in a posh golf course community outside Jacksonville. All of the investments were in Trey’s name because he was the one with the multi-million-dollar income as a star quarterback for a professional football team with numerous endorsement deals. She’d trusted Trey instead of looking out for herself, a mistake she couldn’t forgive herself for.
Idiot, she muttered under her breath as she turned over.
By the time the divorce was final, her reputation had been shredded in the local press. Trey’s PR firm had leaked enough information to the Jacksonville media to raise speculation about whether she had been unfaithful to him with a fellow teammate. Trey had come off looking like the injured party, while she’d been portrayed as a gold-digging hussy.
Hayley gritted her teeth, which added to the throb in her head. She forced herself to relax. It was over and done with. She couldn’t go back and change it. She could only learn from it and not repeat the same mistakes in the future.
Which meant she had to keep her distance from Ray whether she wanted to or not. Disaster lurked on the other side of getting involved with him. She was sure of it. She was also sure of one other thing. She wouldn’t survive a second time.
Besides, she reminded herself, her plans did not include staying in Florida. She wanted to get as far away as possible and leave her past behind. And that included any threat Carlos might present in the future. She doubted he’d travel to California to make her pay for what he perceived as her meddling in his affairs. She hoped he wouldn’t bother looking for her, even in this tiny north Florida town. Protecting herself also meant she could protect Fletcher. And that would be the best possible outcome for both of them.
The medication began to work, and she could feel herself floating, her limbs becoming almost numb, the tightness in her head easing. She fell asleep.
Hayley came awake to the muffled sound of a questioning male voice. She glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand, gasping when she saw it was almost five o’clock.
The migraine medication worked when she kept it down. It worked by knocking her out for several hours, giving the headache time to dissipate. Even though she was groggy and loose-limbed, the pain was gone.
She sat up slowly and reached for her robe. Wrapping it around her, she crept down the short hallway on bare feet and peeked around the corner into the living area.
Ray had his back to her and was staring into an open cupboard. He’d set Fletcher on the counter behind him and was peppering him with questions. “Tuna fish? How do you feel about tuna fish?” He glanced over his shoulder at the boy. “Do you even know what tuna fish is?” As usual, Fletcher didn’t respond. Ray turned back to the cupboard. “SpaghettiOs? I bet you like those. They were invented for kids your age.” He moved a few cans aside. “Whole kernel corn. Green beans. Peaches.” He took the can of peaches out and set it on the counter. “I know you like peaches. There’s tomato soup in here. What do you think, Fletch? My mom always made me tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich after I was sick. Hayley might like that. If she ever wakes up.”
Hayley moved silently across the living room. “She’s awake.”
Ray spun around. They stared at each other for a minute. It occurred to Hayley that she might be looking better than she had this morning but still far from her best. She hadn’t thought to stop off in the bathroom and run a brush through her hair or put on some lip gloss. Oh well. She reminded herself she wasn’t trying to impress or attract Ray anyway.
Fletcher started to slide off the counter, and Ray helped him down. The boy moved to Hayley’s side and looked up at her. Hayley hugged him to her, patting his shoulder. She bent to kiss the top of his head while he clung to her legs. Barely audible whimpers of either distress or relief escaped his small body. “It’s okay, Fletch. I’m all better now.” He held onto her longer than usual. She ran her fingers through his dark hair and rubbed his back. “It’s okay, sweetie.”
After a bit, he emitted a long sigh. She could sense the tension drain out of him, and he eased his hold on her.
She sat at the table and pulled Fletcher into her lap. “Did you have fun today?”
Fletcher nodded enthusiastically. “Did you go to McDonald’s and get a cheeseburger?”
Fletcher shook his head. He held his hands out and flexed his fingers.
“Chicken nuggets?” Hayley guessed.
Fletcher nodded.
“Did you play on the playground?”
Fletcher nodded again.
Hayley gave him a quick hug. “I’m glad you had a good day.” They both looked at Ray who’d been watching them the entire time. “Can you tell Ray thank you for taking such good care of you today?” Hayley said softly into Fletcher’s ear.
Fletcher slid off her lap and crossed to wrap his arms around Ray’s legs. He looked up at him and made a sound in the back of his throat.
Ray put a hand on top of Fletcher’s head. “You’re welcome. We’ll do it again sometime, okay?”
Fletcher nodded and looked back at Hayley. “Want to play with your Legos?” she asked him. “Or see if Sponge-Bob is on?”
Fletcher came back to her and put his hand her shoulder and stared at her face. Seeming satisfied that she was back to her normal self, he went to turn on the TV. After he found the channel he wanted, he dumped a plastic container of blocks onto the coffee table.
Hayley’s gaze met Ray’s again. “Thanks for taking him today. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Nah. He’s pretty good at entertaining himself. You’re doing a good job trying to teach him manners. Even when he doesn’t speak, he’s good at getting his intentions across, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is. Now what’s this I hear about tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches? Sustenance for the invalid?”
Ray lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “My mom’s cure-all after a bout of just about anything.”
Hayley situated herself on one of the stools on the other side of the counter. “I’d offer to help, but every time I make a grilled cheese sandwich I burn it. I don’t know why. I can’t seem to control the heat.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Hayley blushed at the suggestion in Ray’s tone. Ray didn’t look away.
Hayley decided to make a joke of it. “I guess I generate so much heat when I’m in the kitchen, everything burns.”
“Or maybe you’re just a lousy cook.” Ray grinned at her.
“Hey.” Hayley affected outrage. “I thought you liked my cooking. What happened to ‘no one burns frozen pizza the way you do’?”
“I was being nice.” Ray’s grin widened.
Hayley scowled. “I thought I told you to stop being nice to me.”
“You did. It’s not going to happen.”
They stared at each other across the expanse of countertop. Undercurrents swirled below the invisible connection between them. Hayley bit her lip, not sure what had happened, not certain of herself or her ability to resist Ray’s appeal.
She blinked and shifted on the stool. The moment passed. Ray, too, seemed to regain his bearings. He held up the can. “Tomato soup with your sandwich?”
Hayley nodded. “Sure. I think I’ll go get dressed.”
She sped back to her bedroom and threw herself across the bed, hugging the pillow to her. She buried her face in the soft down and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Something she hadn’t planned on had been set in motion, and she might be powerless to stop it. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t try.
Chapter Six
Ray knocked off work early and went home to take a shower. His open-air wood shop was ideal for the work he did, but this time of year, the heat became almost unbearable.
He dried off and dressed in his usual polo shirt and baggy cargo shorts and flip-flops. In the driveway sat an unfamiliar dark blue sedan. A black woman wit
h an overly generous hourglass figure wearing a gray pantsuit picked her way across the gravel drive toward it from Hayley’s side of the duplex.
The woman climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. Ray went to the kitchen and got a cold drink out of the refrigerator, perusing the contents while he was at it, trying to decide if there was anything in there he felt like eating. He had a pound of ground beef. Maybe he’d fire up the grill and put together some cheeseburgers.
Back in the living room, he turned on the sports channel. The blue sedan still idled out front. He set his soda can down and walked out to the car. The woman lowered the window and gazed up at him from behind oversized sunglasses.
“Can I help you with anything?” Ray asked.
“I don’t think so,” she replied in a raspy southern drawl. “Unless you know the whereabouts of your neighbor, Hayley Christopher, or when she plans to be home.”
Ray took in the no-frills model of the car the woman was driving, a stack of official-looking files in an open, soft-sided briefcase on the passenger seat and the ID card which he couldn’t read hanging from a strap around her neck.
“I’m Ray Braddock,” he told the woman, giving her his friendliest smile. “Hayley’s landlord. And friend,” he added. One of the woman’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I don’t know her schedule, but she’s usually back home around this time or shortly after. You’re welcome to wait at my place,” he invited, his curiosity piqued.
“Oh no, that’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t. It’s against regulations.”
Ray stepped back a bit, shifting his stance. Perspiration broke out on the woman’s upper lip and forehead as the car’s air conditioner tried to keep up with the heat and humidity creeping in from the open window. “Oh, sure. I understand. I thought I’d offer you a cold drink and a more comfortable place to wait. But, yeah, I understand. Rules and all.” He grinned at her again. “Well, I’ve got a cold soda waiting for me. I’m sure Hayley will be here. Sometime.”
He started back to his house. The car engine turned off and the door opened.
The woman exited. “Excuse me, Mr. Braddock.”
He turned back. “Ray. Please.”
“All right. Ray. Maybe I will step inside for a few minutes. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all. As long as you don’t mind if I decide not to answer them.”
Once inside, she turned down his offer of a soda but accepted a glass of ice water. Ray muted the television, and they took seats at right angles to each other on the sofa.
“I’m Callie Maxwell, by the way. Department of Child Welfare.” She handed him a business card embossed with the Florida state seal and the DCW logo on it and her contact information.
Ray nodded in acknowledgment and set the card on the coffee table.
“How long have you known Ms. Christopher?” Callie asked.
“Not long. A few weeks.”
“Long enough to form an impression?”
Ray met her gaze head-on, wondering what she was getting at. What kind of information was she fishing for? “I’d say long enough to form an impression, yes.”
“And?”
Ray took a drink of soda and said nothing. If she wanted specifics, she could ask specific questions.
Callie took a delicate sip of her ice water. “May I ask what impression you’ve formed?”
“Certainly.”
Callie waited for him to elaborate, and when he did not, she sat forward. “Is there a reason you’re making this more difficult than it has to be?”
“Is there a reason you can’t ask a direct question?”
“Excuse me, I thought I had. What is your impression of Hayley Christopher with whom, by your own admission, you’ve been acquainted with for a few weeks?”
“I like her. I think she’s smart and tough and she has a good heart.”
“Have you also had the opportunity to meet Fletcher Mariano?”
“I have.”
“And?”
Ray raised an eyebrow at her and took another drink of his soda.
Callie let out a soft little sigh. “What is your impression of Fletcher Mariano?”
“Seems like an okay kid to me.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual about him?”
“Like what?”
“Have you heard him speak?”
“No.”
“And you don’t find such behavior unusual in a child his age?”
“To tell you the truth, Callie, I haven’t had much opportunity to be around children his age since I was one. It’s possible, isn’t it, that if a child Fletcher’s age doesn’t speak, perhaps he has nothing to say? A lot of adults could take a cue from kids like him, don’t you think?”
The corner of Callie’s mouth went up, as if she were trying not to smile. “No doubt,” she agreed.
She seemed to carefully consider how to word her next question before she spoke. “Do you think, based on your brief acquaintance with Ms. Christopher, that she’s a fit guardian for Fletcher?”
“Sure. She’s as good as anybody else.” Oops. That hadn’t come out the way he’d planned. “I mean, uh, it looks to me like she takes as good of care of Fletcher as she can.” Yikes, the hole was getting deeper. “She does her best.” Shut up, Ray. Shut up, he warned himself. “Isn’t that all anyone can do?”
Callie Maxwell sat up straighter and bristled a bit. “Despite the negative publicity of the past few years, the Florida Department of Child Welfare does maintain standards of care for those under its jurisdiction. Making one’s best effort, while admirable, does not necessarily mean the standard has been reached.”
Callie stood, leaving the glass of water on a coaster. “Thank you, Mr. Braddock, for your time and for the water. You’ve been very helpful.”
Great, Ray thought. He’d somehow managed to piss off the DCW social worker. Hayley would hate him if his words somehow worked against her application to be Fletcher’s foster mother.
“If there’s anything else, any more questions, anything I can do—”
“You’ve done more than enough,” Callie informed him as she stepped through the door and out into the late afternoon heat. “Thank you again. Ah, there’s Ms. Christopher now.”
Sure enough, Hayley’s Mustang turned into the drive. Ray gave a half-hearted wave and stepped back inside, figuring the less he was seen the better.
An hour later, Ray had his grill fired up and laid three hamburger patties over the flames. Hayley’s sliding door opened and she came toward him. She looked sexier than usual in snug-fitting, knee-length exercise pants and a matching, form-fitting, V-neck top. She had on sneakers, and her hair was bound up in a messy bun from which lots of wild tendrils had escaped.
Ray licked his lips. Man, he could look at her all day and not get tired of it. “Hi there.”
“Hi.” Her purposeful stride stopped a few feet short of where he stood. They stared at each other for a several awkward moments.
Ray turned to the grill and adjusted the temperature. He turned back to find her watching him. “You want a cheeseburger for dinner? Or were you planning to burn a chicken pot pie later?”
“No. I mean yes. Uh, I haven’t decided. I was wondering what my social worker was talking to you about.”
“Nothing much. She asked if I knew you and I said I did. What was my impression of you, if I’d met Fletcher, stuff like that. She wasn’t there very long before you came home.”
Hayley chewed the inside of her lip for a moment. “What’d you tell her?”
“How about if I bring these burgers over when they’re done, and I’ll tell you all about it?”
“O-okay. I’ve got some macaroni and cheese I could make.”
“Sounds good.” Ray turned back to the grill, lifted the lid and flipped the sizzling meat.
“It’s the kind from a box. It doesn’t take very long if I use the microwave.”
He looked at her again. “I’m
sure it’ll be delicious.”
“I’ll try not to ruin it, if that’s what you mean.” She turned to go back inside, and Ray watched until the door slid closed behind her. His mouth watered. But it had nothing to do with anticipation of cheeseburgers and macaroni.
The hamburgers were mouth-watering, if Ray did say so himself. And Hayley’s macaroni and cheese, though thick and sticky, was edible. Ray didn’t care what he was eating as long as he got to do it at the same table as Hayley. And Fletcher. Even without the gift of speech, Fletcher could communicate well. As soon as they were done, Fletcher brought out a Candyland game and offered it to Ray.
“Ever since Molly taught him, it’s his new favorite thing to do. I bought it at a garage sale for fifty cents.”
“Okay, buddy, let’s see what you’ve got.”
“You two go on and play. I’ll clean up in here. And if you don’t mind, maybe I’ll shower before I give Fletcher his bath.”
“I don’t mind.”
Ray turned on Sports Center with the volume low and helped Fletcher set out the board, cards and game pieces.
Fletcher chose the red piece and went first, moving the little plastic man deliberately to the green square.
He looked up at Ray. Ray gave him a thumbs up. “Good job, buddy.”
Fletcher ducked his head. Something flickered in his eyes and across his face, gone almost as quickly as it came.
They’d finished the game by the time Hayley reappeared in a pair of baggy running shorts and a tank top. Ray had turned up the volume on the TV and was explaining the nuances of a baseball game to Fletcher.
“Okay, Fletch, time for your bath.”
Fletcher looked up at Ray, and Ray swore he knew what the kid was asking even though he never opened his mouth. “You got any boats in by the bathtub, kid?” Ray knew he did. He’d seen them the day Hayley was felled by a migraine. Fletcher slid off the couch and grabbed Ray’s hand. Ray stood, catching Hayley’s eye and mouthing, “Is it okay?”
“Sure, go ahead. Don’t forget to wash behind his ears.”
Hayley took Ray’s seat and mindlessly flipped channels, listening to Ray’s voice from behind the bathroom door. She couldn’t make out all the words, but she heard explosive sounds, as if he’d engaged Fletcher’s boats in sea combat.
A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2 Page 6
