by JB Lynn
“Great ideas, thank you.”
I watched him and Armani discuss possible decorating ideas for the next ten minutes, feeling more than a twinge of jealousy. I had no interest in planning the shower, but I did wish I was the one Zeke was laughing with. I knew it was silly, especially since, as I’d told Armani, I knew I wasn’t his type, but it would have been nice to have been the recipient of his charming attentiveness.
After he’d taken copious notes of Armani’s suggestions, he focused on me. “Have you thought about a gift?”
“That I’ve got under control.” I’d known what I was going to give Alice when she got married since we were fifteen.
“What’s a good gift to give at a bridal shower?” Zeke asked Armani.
“Well,” she said slyly, “I usually give lingerie.”
Zeke held up his hands in surrender. “Are you trying to get me killed? Have you seen her fiancé? Nice guy, but on the jealous side. You don’t want my boyish good looks to be messed with, do you?”
Armani giggled. She actually giggled. Why did every woman I know have to succumb to Zeke’s charm?
“Give her something off the registry,” I said.
The smiles dropped off their faces at my sharp tone.
“What’s wrong?” Armani asked.
“Nothing. He’s right. If he gives Alice some sort of lingerie, Lamont will get the wrong idea and beat the crap out of him. He’s better off just getting something off the registry.”
“And leave the lingerie to Loretta?” he teased gently.
I couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “You know her too well.”
He brushed the hair off my face, skimming my cheek.
My heart rate sped up.
“I know all of you,” he said, looking into my eyes with an intimate intensity.
My stomach fluttered. I forgot to breathe as I got lost in those blue eyes of his. I wondered if he knew that I’d carried a torch for him all those years earlier. I wondered if he had any idea the effect he still had on me.
“Pick,” Armani ordered, breaking the strange spell Zeke had cast over me.
She held out her bag of Scrabble tiles to Zeke. He took one.
“Take six more,” she told him.
“I don’t have time for a game. Maybe next time?”
“It’s not a game. Pick six.”
He looked to me for guidance.
“She’s sort of psychic,” I told him.
“Not sort of,” she muttered.
“She has dreams and visions and reads Scrabble tiles.”
“So pick six more.” She shook the bag at him, making the tiles click against one another.
Obediently he pulled six more. She held out her good hand and he dumped them into her upturned palm.
“I need to think about these for a while,” she said. “I’ll tell Maggie what they mean at the end of the day and she’ll tell you.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ve never had my fortune told before.”
“I’m not a fortune teller. I’m a psychic.”
Zeke flashed her a smile. “Well either way, it’ll be a first for me.” He turned his attention back to me. “Anything else you need from me?”
I hadn’t been aware I’d needed anything from him until he showed up.
He pressed a kiss to my cheek as he stood up. “Places to go. People to see.”
“What do you do, Zeke? For a living,” Armani asked.
“A little bit of this. A little bit of that.”
Armani frowned. “What does that mean? You’re unemployed?”
“Leave him alone,” I interrupted. “He works at The Big Day.”
“No I don’t.” He sounded surprised. “You think I work at the bridal shop?”
I looked up at him. “You don’t?”
He shook his head.
“But . . . Why the hell were you there then? And how’d you find the perfect dress for Alice?”
“You really think it’s the perfect dress for her?”
“Yeah, she looks gorgeous in it.”
“She looks gorgeous in just about anything.”
I winced. It wasn’t easy having a best friend that everyone thought was stunning. I’d long ago resigned myself to the fact that she’d always outshine me, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting.
Seeing my discomfort, Zeke hurried to say, “I didn’t mean—”
“Why were you there?”
“I was there to see somebody else. It was just luck that I ran into you.”
I’d known Zeke a long time and could have sworn I saw something falter in his usually easy smile, but before I could press him about it, we were interrupted.
“Ladies.”
I barely suppressed a groan as I turned to see Harry standing a few paces away.
“I was just wondering whether you were planning on attending this afternoon’s training session.” Harry looked to Armani for an answer, seeming to take care to not make eye contact with me.
“Are there going to be cookies?” Armani asked.
Harry nodded slowly.
“Chocolate cookies?”
Harry’s eyes widened and his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he nodded again.
“Then we’ll be there,” Armani said. “Right, Chiquita?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll let you all get back to work.” Zeke said, moving quickly away from the table in the direction of the parking lot.
“Me too.” Harry beat an even hastier retreat.
“Thanks for your help, Armani!” Zeke called.
She watched him go. “You’d be a fool to pass that one up, Maggie.”
“I told you. I’m not his type.”
She rolled her eyes. “You also thought he worked at a bridal shop. I’m thinking you don’t know him as well as you think you do. You should definitely get to know that man better.”
SOMEONE I DON’T want to get to know any better is my father, and yet, after work, instead of going to visit Katie, I found myself in the waiting room of East Jersey State Prison, where he currently resides. He’s a permanent guest of the state for robbery and murder. The murder of a cop’s wife, who happened to be working as a teller at the bank he was robbing, might very well be an unjust conviction. I had believed my dad had done it, up until last month when he’d confided he hadn’t. I sort of believed him. It didn’t mean he wasn’t a crook, though, and a lousy husband and father.
Alice would hear none of that, though. Ever since he’d saved her from her monstrous stepfather she’d always seen him as her personal knight in rusty, dented armor, which is why I found myself waiting to see him. She’d begged me to take her for a visit before she got married.
“Are you bringing a date to the wedding?” Alice asked, nervously eyeing the guard in the corner of the visiting room. I’d warned her that she’d be patted down, but the professional groping had unnerved her.
“Nope. Going solo.”
“Because Loretta said you might be bringing that cop.”
“I’m not.”
“You could. He’s hot.”
“And he’s got a hot temper.”
“So would you mind being Zeke’s date? He’s not bringing anyone either. I told him he could, told him we’d be cool with it, but he said he’s not going to. Maybe you could dance with him a couple times.”
“Maybe.”
Alice smiled, a far-off look in her eyes. “There was a time you’d have killed for a chance to dance with him.”
I winced inwardly at her choice of words. “You would have too.”
Before we’d found out he was gay, we’d both had teenage crushes on Zeke.
She laughed. “How far we’ve come.”
Glancing around at the gray walls of the prison, I didn’t think that where we’d ended up was any better than where we’d been.
My father appeared on the other side of the Plexiglas partition. He lowered himself into a chair so that he was eye level with us.
“Mr. Lee!” Al
ice squealed with delight.
He beamed back, looking like a benevolent department store Santa Claus rather than a convicted felon. “Such a nice surprise. You’re more beautiful than ever, Alice.” He switched his gaze over to me. “It’s good to see you, Maggie May.”
I tilted my head in Alice’s direction. “She wanted to see you.”
He nodded, his joy fading, accepting that his daughter hadn’t wanted to see him.
“I’m getting married, Mr. Lee.” Alice displayed the sparkling engagement ring Lamont had put on her finger.
“Congratulations.”
“And I’m pregnant!”
“That’s wonderful news.”
“We’re very excited.”
“You have a lot to celebrate.” Leaning forward, he looked to me. “What about you, Maggie? Has Katie given you any reason to celebrate?” His affection for his granddaughter was evident.
I nodded slowly. “She’s opened her eyes a couple of times.” Just the once when I was there, but she’d done it a few more times when my various aunts were visiting. “The doctors are cautiously hopeful.”
“Cautiously hopeful is good.” He relaxed a bit in his chair. “So tell me, what else is new with you two girls?”
“Zeke is back in town,” Alice gushed. “He’s helping with the wedding. He’s a godsend.”
“I actually wanted to ask you something,” I said, interrupting her waxing poetic about my frenemy.
A flicker of surprise flashed in my father’s eyes. He wasn’t accustomed to me asking anything of him. “Shoot.”
“Did Theresa ever mention Dirk’s sister, Abilene?”
“Why?”
“You can’t just answer the question?”
“It’s out of character for you to ask,” he countered.
“Forget I asked.” Folding my arms over my chest, I glared at him.
“He didn’t say he wasn’t going to tell you,” Alice interjected, playing peacemaker. “He just asked why you were asking.”
I really didn’t want to tell them, but I really needed to know if Theresa had said something that might help to swing the odds in my favor in the upcoming custody battle. “She’s suing me for custody of Katie.”
“She can’t do that,” Alice said.
“She is. So, Dad.” I emphasized the name to remind him that he owed me something. “What did Theresa say about her?”
He pulled on his white beard thoughtfully. “Dirk was afraid of her.”
My stomach soured. Dirk may have been a jerk, but he’d never struck me as a man easily scared. “Why?”
“She has a lot of power, a lot of money.”
Two things I definitely didn’t have.
“You can’t let her take Katie,” my father said.
“I know.”
“You have to do whatever it takes to keep her.”
I nodded, wondering if that would involve killing Abilene.
“According to Theresa, the woman always hated Dirk. She destroyed his toys when he was a kid, wrecked his relationships as they got older. He moved across the country, from Vegas to here, just to get away from her. Did you know she managed to get their old man to name her as head of the family business, even though Dirk had worked his butt off for ten years?”
I shook my head, feeling a twinge of guilt for how I’d regarded Dirk when he was alive.
“This Abilene woman is dangerous, Maggie.” Dad took a deep breath. “Maybe you could ask the bit . . . the witches for help.”
Alice sucked in her breath. Like me, she knew that my father usually referred to my aunts as “the bitches.” Like me, she knew he despised them and would never ask them for help. Like me, she now realized how big a threat Abilene must be.
“And what do you think a control freak, a nymphomaniac, and a recovering addict are going to be able to do to help?” I asked.
“Leslie’s clean?” Dad’s eyes grew round with astonishment.
“She was the last time I saw her a couple of days ago.”
“That’s amazing. Good for her.”
“Good for her, bad for the rest of us.”
“She’s a bit . . . touchy right now,” Alice chimed in helpfully.
“Bitchy is more like it,” I corrected. “But the point is, there’s not much they can do to help. I know they’d want to, but if this Abilene has as much money and power as you say, I can fight her, but I’m not sure I have a chance in hell of winning.”
Chapter Eleven
“WHICH WAS PRETTY much what the lawyer said,” I told God, filling him in on what was going on. The lizard perched on the top of his terrarium listening intently.
“When did you go to a lawyer?”
“I left work an hour early, saw the lawyer, and then took Alice to the prison.”
“Quite the day.”
“So the lawyer’s number one suggestion was that I move back into the bed-and-breakfast.”
“Food?” Doomsday panted hopefully from where she lay against the fridge.
I hadn’t known she was even paying attention to the conversation. Instead of trying to explain to the mutt what a bed-and-breakfast is, I tossed her a biscuit. “She said—”
“She being the lawyer?” God asked.
“Yes. She said that if I moved back in with my aunts, it would illustrate that I have a stable home and support system to bring Katie back to.”
“Stable?” God snorted.
“I know. I know. But the lawyer seemed to think it was the strongest weapon I’ve got against this Abilene Plude.”
Doomsday rested her heavy head in my lap. “Back move never.”
I looked to God for translation. He shrugged.
“I don’t understand, sweetie,” I told the dog. “What do you mean?”
“Back move never lady umbrella.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake,” God groused. “When are you going to learn how to construct a proper sentence?”
“Leave her alone,” I muttered. “I know what she meant.”
“Care to share?”
“I told my Aunt Susan I’d never move back.”
“Never say never.” He imparted it like it was the greatest line of wisdom ever imparted.
I wanted to smack him. Instead I said, “She hates dogs.”
“Oh . . .” God said worriedly.
“Hate Doomsday?” the dog asked.
“She hates dogs in general. Not you in particular.” I realized that wasn’t terribly soothing, but I had to tell her the truth.
“Hate Doomsday?”
“You did chomp on her umbrella,” I reminded her.
She immediately lay down and rolled over on her back. “Sorry! Sorry!”
“I know you are.” I absentmindedly rubbed her belly.
“So it’s going to come down to choosing between Katie and the beast?” God asked, eyeing the dog.
“No.” I buried my head in my hands. “I don’t know. We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I don’t even know whether I’m going to consider moving in with them or not. I mean what would be the point if I’m going to lose Katie anyway?”
The lizard started pacing the length of his enclosure. “But you have to position yourself in the best possible way to win the case.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Happen Doomsday what?” the dog whined.
She looked at me with those big brown eyes, so sad, so scared, and a vise tightened around my chest. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Alone Doomsday?”
I looked to God for help, but he had turned his back on us. It looked as though his shoulders were heaving. The little guy was as fond of the big dog as I was.
“An impossible choice,” I muttered, brushing away the tears that spilled down my cheeks. “It’s not fair.”
“Not impossible,” God said, his voice strained. “Not impossible, just ridiculously difficult and unfair.”
Doomsday got up from the floor and put her head in my lap. Licking my tears from m
y hands, she said, “Okay.”
I didn’t know what she was trying to tell me, but I threw my arms around her and squeezed as tightly as I could. “Everything will work out.”
“Liar,” God whispered.
THE NEXT MORNING, after another night of insomnia, I went to meet Patrick at his favorite cemetery.
I’m not sure why he’s so fond of the cemetery, maybe because it’s calm and quiet. I think it’s kind of creepy. Doomsday, who I’d taken along for the trip, thought it was a wonderful spot. She ran around happily, sniffing headstones and chasing squirrels.
Seeing her so joyous increased my sense of guilt. What would happen to her if I moved in with aunts? She deserved a good home.
Patrick pulled up in a mud-splattered green Jeep.
“Patrick! Patrick!” Doomsday panted, running over to greet him.
He greeted her enthusiastically, bending down to pet her. “Hey there, beautiful.” He smiled at me over her.
I did my best to smile back.
Worry flickered in his gaze, but all he said was “Hungry?”
“Yes!” Doomsday barked. “Yes! Yes!”
“She is,” I told him.
He chuckled. “I think she’s always hungry.”
Reaching into the Jeep, he pulled out a white paper bag and proceeded to lay an impromptu picnic breakfast on the hood. On a bed of paper napkins he placed a couple of sandwiches, a Styrofoam container of bacon, and two fruit cups.
“Can you get the coffee?” he asked, tilting his head toward the interior of the Jeep.
I did, thinking I’d never had a man in my life take care of me the way he did. He’d probably make a great owner for Doomsday, giving her the kind of home she deserved.
When I emerged from the vehicle holding two cups of coffee, he was feeding the dog a strip of bacon, further cementing the idea in my head.
“You’re spoiling her,” I said.
“I think she had a rough life. She deserves to be spoiled a little.” He threw a piece of bacon and the dog chased after it happily. “You look like you had a rough night.”
Self-consciously I smoothed my hair, wondering how bad he thought I looked. “I had trouble sleeping.”
“Something on your mind?” He handed me a sandwich wrapped in foil.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
