by Liz Crowe
As some random movie played later, Jeffrey fell sound asleep draped over Antony’s lap. As he settled in for the duration, pondering his own nap, his mother’s voice jolted him out of that pleasant prospect.
“So, son, why is my new friend Margot Hamilton moving back to Michigan?”
“I’m sure I don’t know Mama. Why don’t you ask her?” He shifted, wishing he could escape to the kitchen or the pole barn, anywhere to avoid having the conversation he somehow sensed on the horizon. But Jeffrey was a heavy weight and Antony knew that if he woke the kid he’d be super cranky.
“Yes, of course I asked her. She claimed it was just ‘time to go’ or some kinda nonsense I don’t believe for a hot minute.” Lindsay sipped the small pour of bourbon at her elbow, making Antony squirm under her sharp, knowing stare.
“What makes you think I know any more than that?”
“Just a mother’s intuition. Listen, Antony, I don’t know what’s goin’ on between you, Aiden, Rosie and Margot, but I have a sense that the Lord is working his well-documented mysterious ways and y’all should tread carefully. There are a lot of lives at stake here.” She reached over and tucked Jeffrey’s dangling arm up next to his body. “He’s such a sweetheart, when he’s not being a hellion.”
Antony grunted, shocked that she’d figured all that out and once again marveling at how very small and reduced she seemed, curled up in her usual chair with her bare head covered in some kind of bandana printed with horses, clutching the glass to her chest. “You all right, Mama?” The very real possibility of losing her had hung heavy over all of their lives this year. He’d dealt with it by simply not accepting that the word ‘death’ was something Lindsay Love would tolerate in relation to herself. She would keep its dark shadow at bay with the sheer force of her formidable will.
“They tell me I’m improving,” she said, keeping her gaze on the sleeping boy in Antony’s lap. “I don’t know.” She sighed and wrapped the Kentucky Wildcat emblazoned blanket tighter around her shoulders.
“I do. I know you’re gonna out live us all.” His throat was clogged with emotion and raw fear.
She smiled at him, her nose crinkling up in that way he remembered and had adored for so long. “Okay mister, nice job distracting me. So, about Margot…”
To his extreme relief, Antony heard his father come in and call out his usual “Hello? Anyone home?” that he’d done since Antony had been a little boy, anxiously anticipating his parents’ every move, especially once his little brother Kieran had been added to mix.
“In here, honey,” Lindsay called out, still looking at Antony. “Be careful, son. Be happy but please, be careful.”
He drove a floppy and complaining Jeffrey home, pensive, his heart racing at the memory of his mother’s words. If he were any kind of a real man, he’d own up to what he’d done with Margot and allow Rosie to confess to him—anything. Although the thought of being faced with what he believed about her and Aiden made him tighten his grip on the steering wheel.
The Lord working his well-documented mysterious ways was not how he viewed this, but maybe all his years in Sunday school and services would prove out—maybe this was some higher power, showing him the way. Then again, maybe he was just weak.
He tossed the boy into his bed and flipped off the light with a stern warning about not getting up. Jeffrey made a whiny noise, and then quieted. Rosie was on the couch, sipping wine and staring at the blank TV screen. Knowing it was now or never, he sat opposite her and took her hands in his. “Rosie, honey, I need to tell—”
“Mama!” Jeffrey’s sharp screech made them both jump.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then got up and headed down the hall. He grabbed her wine glass and downed it. When she lingered, he flipped on the television and found an early-season basketball game. He’d poured himself another glass by the time she emerged with her hair pulled off her face and a small smile playing around her lips. Without a word she straddled him, kissing him and bringing him to full attention. He gripped her ass and lost himself in her, willing this to be right, to be what he wanted.
She broke the kiss and slid down to her knees, unzipping his jeans and sliding her lips over his cock, teasing, licking and sucking as he watched her, fascinated by the scene as if he were watching someone else get a killer blow job. His fingers twined in her hair. His hips thrust up, moving faster as he let it take him, groaning in relief when it did. She sat back on her heels, wiping her lips and grinning.
“That was nice,” he said, breathless. She picked up the wine glass and sipped, tucking her bare feet up under her as she sat next to him, keeping her disconcerting silence. “I think I owe you a little payback. That right, baby?” Putting the glass on the table, he pressed her back onto the couch, sliding his hand into her easy-access sweats as he kissed her, loving this and loving her, but wanting something that was not this—and hating himself for that wanting.
A sharp knock at the door was followed by the doorbell, twice, in the way someone does when there is very bad news on the other side.
“What the hell?” he said, standing and zipping his jeans and helping Rosie to her feet. He opened the door, catching sight of his friend Mark the cop, his daughter with blood on her cheek and Margot, standing a little behind them, gnawing on her lower lip. He opened his mouth to ask her what the hell was going on but she shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Chapter Eleven
Margot had spent Thanksgiving alone at a movie, then at a Chinese restaurant making small talk with the owners. She moved through a kind of cloud, or fog, but one with substance that slowed down her movements and made her groggy and tired with the effort of navigating through it. She’d not spent much time nauseated, which was good. But ‘exhausted’ was her new reality. It was maddening. But somehow right at the same time.
Friday was the final day of packing—clothes, bathroom supplies and other last minute crap. Every now and then she’d stop to touch her flat stomach and cry, then she’d get over it and move forward. It was beyond bizarre but the concept of being a mother filled her with the sort of peace she’d never experienced in her entire life. Father or no father, she would manage this and her baby would have a full life—but not here—in Ann Arbor.
Her sister had been ecstatic and nonjudgmental, thank the Lord, and had already made her an appointment with an obstetrician. One of her best friends from school sold real estate and had located the perfect little house, with the ideal yard, inside the same elementary school district Margot and her friend had attended. It was all falling into place.
It had to.
There really was no other option.
She lay awake on Friday night thanks to her many naps, staring up at the ceiling of her soon-to-be ex-home, in a state she had come to love for a lot of reasons, but had to leave for one reason in particular. At some point she must have dropped off, falling directly into a dream that left her sweaty and anxious, still tasting Antony’s lips and feeling his body against her, inside her. She got up and sipped tea, staring at old movies for the rest of the night, determined not to allow the man anywhere near her, even in her subconscious mind.
Saturday morning she woke with a start and winced, having fallen dead asleep with her head propped on the couch’s arm with her neck at an awkward, painful angle. Her phone was buzzing somewhere nearby but damned if she could find it for a solid minute or two. “Hello?” she said, grabbing a half empty bottle of water and gulping it down.
“Hi, um Margot?”
“Oh, hey AliceLynn. You all right?”
“Yeah. I just remembered this was your last weekend here. So…um, I wanted to say ‘bye.”
Margot smiled and refilled the bottle. “Thanks. The movers come on Monday. Did you guys have a nice Thanksgiving?” It hurt somewhere deep in her chest to ask that.
“I guess. Rosie did this whole thing for my Grammie. The guys shaved their heads. It was weird. Kinda stupid. But in an okay way.”
&n
bsp; “Shaved their heads?” She sipped, trying to imagine Antony shaved bald. “Why?”
“Solidarity for Grammie I think.”
“Oh. Well. That’s a nice gesture.” AliceLynn stayed quiet. “So, do you have plans for your holiday weekend?” She sensed that the girl wanted to keep talking.
“Yeah, there’s this party. I don’t know. I might not go.”
“What about Jason?”
“We broke up. He’s lame.”
“Oh. Well…”
“I’m not cutting myself, if that’s what you’re worried about.” The girl’s tone grew truculent.
“That’s good, honey. I’m sorry about your boyfriend.”
“It’s all right. He was too needy. Wanted to be all… on me all the time.”
“That’s a guy thing. They don’t ever really outgrow it.” She winced, remembering how the girl had caught her in flagrante. She put a hand on her stomach in reflex.
“I am gonna miss you. I’m not really too mad at you or anything.”
“I’ll miss you too, AliceLynn. And thanks. Have you and your father talked about…”
“Oh god no. He’s busy trying to get back onto Rosie’s good side. He and my uncles made this huge scene at Grammie’s Halloween party and all their girlfriends put ‘em in the doghouse.”
“Ah, well then….”
“I’ll let you go I guess. Take care, Margot.”
“Thanks. You too. And take care of…well, you know.”
“Yeah, I do.” The girl laughed but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. Then she ended the call.
Margot sat for a long time, staring out the kitchen window, pondering her god-awful timing. With a sigh, she pushed away from the counter and found some busywork, then she went out for a light jog in the surprisingly warm November afternoon. Luckily she’d always been a bit of a loner, so all this time to herself didn’t really bother her—much. Other than the near nightly dreams of him, of Antony. Of the man she would admit to herself that she loved.
Her next to last night in Kentucky was quiet, spent in the company of a pepperoni pizza and milk—both of which she craved for the first time in her adult life. At nine thirty she tossed the cardboard box into the recycling bin and rinsed out her glass, that foggy, murky sensation taking hold of her again. Figuring she might as well finish the movie she’d started, she tucked up on the couch and immediately dozed off.
A buzzing in her dream jumped over into her conscious state, sending her tumbling to the floor in a tangle of blanket. She crawled over to the box where she’d left the phone and stared at the number, trying to make sense of it.
“Margot?” AliceLynn’s voice hit her ears, sending her into high alert at its tone. “You there?”
“Hey, um, yeah I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“I need your help. Can you come?”
She rubbed her eyes and turned off the television so she could focus. “Where?”
AliceLynn gave her an address, which she plugged into her phone’s GPS, noting that it appeared to be in the middle of a splotch of green, indicating a large park. The girl’s frantic sounding voice echoed in her ears. “Hurry. Please.”
She screeched into a parking spot and jumped out, panic filling her chest at the sight of the flashing blue lights at the other end of the lot. AliceLynn was standing in the middle of a circle of cops, wrapped in a blanket. Blood dripped from a huge scrape on her left cheek. Terrified, Margot shoved in between two of the uniforms without thinking about anything other than the girl’s teary, marred face.
“Excuse me,” she said, moving in to take AliceLynn in her arms. A group of boys were huddled off to one side, looking guilty. “What is going on here?”
One of the cops stepped forward. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but have we met?”
Margot frowned at him. “No, what difference does that make?”
AliceLynn sniffled and pointed to the cop. “Sorry. This is Mark. He’s my daddy’s friend from high school.”
“Oh, okay. So, Mark what’s going on here?”
The man frowned.
“It’s fine, you can tell her,” AliceLynn said under her breath.
“Well, there was an illicit gathering here, at the park. Some of the boys were doping the drinks, according to AliceLynn. She called them on it and they got…ugly with her.”
Margot held the girl tighter. “It’s fine. I had my…um…”
“AliceLynn pulled a knife of them,” Mark said. “Cut one of ‘em on the arm. And then she ran.”
“It’s when I got this,” she said, touching her bloody face. “I fell.”
“I told you to call your daddy,” Mark the cop said. “I don’t know this person, no offense intended ma’am.”
Margot dropped her arm from around AliceLynn’s shoulders. “Well, I’m a friend of the family.” A strange kind of emotion was filling her head now. One she didn’t like. “Why did you call me, AliceLynn?” The girl kept her gaze down on her shoes.
“You said I should call you if I needed anything.”
“Yes, but this is something your father…anyway, we’ll deal with it. Can we take her home?”
“Daddy’s not at home. He’s at Rosie’s,” AliceLynn said with a certain tone in her voice that lit a match to Margot’s fury.
“Okay, I’ll meet you there. You should ride with them.” She pointed to the cops. The girl’s jaw dropped.
“AliceLynn, your father needs to know where you were, what you were doing and with whom.” She indicated the gaggle of delinquents with a jerk of her chin. “I’m not going to shield you from confronting him, honey. But I will stand with you when you do it.” Whirling and heading for her car before she said something really awful, Margot climbed behind the wheel and followed the cop car a few miles to a tidy little white clapboard house on a street lined with similar ones with a ‘for sale’ sign on the lawn. Rosalee Norris’ house, she surmised, pulling up to the curb and steeling herself for the looming confrontation.
She met Antony and Rosie at the door, but this time when she gave her little ‘it’s not my job to shield you or my place to come between you’ spiel, AliceLynn let it fly loud and clear and in front of Rosalee just where Margot’s ‘place’ was—in Antony’s bed. Antony lurched forward and grabbed his daughter’s arm. Margot clapped a hand over her mouth and started backing away.
Then Rosie fainted.
And everything changed.
Authors’ note: If you have read “Love Garage” and wish to read a “hidden ending” for this companion novella, just click here. It’s highly recommended that you read “Love Garage” first, to get the full story of how all this works out in order to fully appreciate the ending of “Safe Love.”
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Liz
About The Author
Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is fi
nished.
Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.
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Read More Liz Books
The Love Brothers Series:
Love Garage
Coach Love
Love Brewing
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Family Love
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Sweat Equity
Closing Costs
Essence of Time
Conditional Offer
Escalation Clause
Mutual Release
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The Black Jack Gentlemen Series:
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Red Card
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The Turkish Delights Series:
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Tulip Princess
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Vegas Miracle
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It’s Not Me. It’s You.
