(Dream Man 03) Law Man (29 page)

“I don’t understand how your mind works, baby,” he said softly, also leaning into me. “How you twist shit around but that was not your life then and it isn’t your life now. Instead of you sitting there looking at anything but me, thinkin’ I’m gonna judge you for shit that was never in your control, you should be sitting there proud in the knowledge that you got the fuck out and made somethin’ of yourself, made somethin’ of your life.”

“I –”

He shook his head, his fingers tensed even deeper in mine and I clamped my mouth shut.

“I’ve told you this before and I’ll say it again. In my job I see a lotta shit, a lot, and it is rare, Mara, unbelievably, fuckin’ rare that any kid is born to a life like yours and has the strength to get the fuck out and make something of themselves.”

“I sell beds, Mitch,” I reminded him. “I’m not the president of the free world. I don’t even have a college education.”

“Who cares?” he asked back, quick as a flash.

“I don’t own a house.”

“Either do I,” he pointed out.

Hmm. This was true.

“Do you know who your father is?” I asked and his eyes flared.

“Yeah, and you’re gonna know him too because you’re gonna meet him.”

I shook my head. “Don’t you see, Mitch? I don’t even know who my father is.”

“Again, honey, that says nothin’ about
you
. Again, you were born to that. You didn’t take that away from yourself. Your mother took it away from you.”

I tried a different strategy. “Do you have a college education?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered and my eyes started sliding away again.

That got my hand another jerk.

“Eyes back to me,” he growled in a way my eyes went back to him. “Me havin’ a college degree means I live in a different zone than you?”

“And your mother wears twinsets,” I reminded him.

He blinked. Then he stared at me.

Then he shook his head and his lips twitched before he said, “Sweetheart, do you not see that shit’s whacked?”

“No,” I pointed out the obvious.

“Well, it’s whacked,” he returned.

I leaned deeper toward him and looked him straight in his fathomless, beautiful eyes.

“Two weeks ago, you walked through a window to my world and you lost your mind, Mitch. You took one look at Bill and the state of Billy and Billie’s lives and you lost your mind. That is my family. That is my life. And you don’t understand this because it isn’t your life but there is no way to escape it. There is no way. Because it haunts you. It’s your cousin in jail and facing prison if he survives to his trial. It’s his kids in your house, one worried about her Daddy when he’s done nothing to deserve it, the other worried about everything when he should be worried about getting to the next level on some video game. It knocks on your door and shouts the unit down so your neighbor has to confront it in the breezeway. It’s a beautiful, kind man looking into you and finding you have a juvie file. It never goes away. It’s always there. It isn’t history. It’s in my blood. It’s
me.
”

“No, Mara, two weeks ago, I walked into
your cousin’s house.
I did this after I had dinner with a beautiful woman and two really good kids and I lost my mind because that assclown didn’t give a fuck that his kids ran away and hadn’t had anything to eat all day. His house was a disaster and he was drunk and stoned and he didn’t even flinch when his kids saw him that way. I lost my mind because their clothes didn’t fit and their shoes were comin’ apart and he had vodka and smack and smokes. And I lost my mind because he didn’t apologize to you that you had to drop everything and look out for his kids and you did it in a way that I knew you were a practiced hand and I knew you were a practiced hand because he’s an assclown.”

I stared at him as he lifted our hands, unlaced our fingers but kept hold of my hand, tight, palm to palm, fingers wrapped around and his eyes locked with mine.

“But it was three and a half weeks ago I walked into
your
world. A clean apartment, nice furniture, flowers on your bedspread and I found out you only own a hammer. I found out you have no clue that men buy mattresses and beds from you because you wear tight skirts that show off your great ass. Because you got legs that go on forever. Because you pin up your hair and all this makes them stand by beds and mattresses and they buy them from you because all they’re thinkin’ is that they want you with your hair down, their hands on your ass and those legs wrapped around them
in
that bed
with them
. That bed could be made of nails and they wouldn’t give a fuck. They’re all about buyin’ a fantasy and you rake in your commission but have no fucking clue.”

Ohmigod. Did he seriously think that was true?

“Mitch –”

“And I found out you have great taste in music and the reason you’d barely look at me for four years is that you’re pathologically shy.”

“Mitch –”

“And it’s cute.”

“Please, Mitch –”

“And this was great fuckin’ news because you bein’ shy meant you were into me which meant I finally was open to make a play.”

“Stop it,” I whispered.

“But it was seein’ those two kids respond to you and how you responded to them that made me understand it was worth the effort to take on what I knew would be the frustrating task of extracting your head outta your ass.”

“Stop it.” This time I said those two words on a hiss.

“I already knew you looked great in shorts, great in a bikini, you were a great cook, worked hard and your friends love to spend time with you.”

All thoughts flew from my head and I blinked at him, mortified. “You’ve seen me in a bikini?”

He ignored me. “So I made my play.”

“When have you seen me in a bikini?”

“And now we’re gonna make a deal.”

I blinked again and stiffened. “What deal?”

“We’re gonna go back to the place I got you this last week. You’re gonna loosen up, come out of your cocoon, for good this time, and give me a shot. And I’m gonna take that shot and use it to convince you that you are not what you think you are but instead what everyone else knows you to be.”

I yanked at my hand in his but he only held on stronger.

“Let my hand go,” I requested on a demand.

“No,” he denied. “Agree to the deal.”

I stared at him then reminded him, “You do know that you taking that shot comes with two kids, a fucked up cousin who has the Russian mob after him and whatever Mom and Lulamae dream up. They might be functional alcoholics and over the years they may have killed an alarming number of brain cells through a variety of mood-altering methods but when they’re on a tear, it can get ugly,” I paused, “or,
uglier
.”

“Mara, baby, open your eyes for long enough to remember I’ve been livin’ this alongside you the last week. I’m totally clued in, sweetheart, it’s
you
who isn’t.”

That was when it hit me.

He had been. Mitch had been living this with me the last week.

No, that wasn’t exactly true. He hadn’t only been living it with me; he’d been taking care of things for me and for the kids. I’d been too busy, too tired and too freaked out to realize the fullness of his assistance. For over a week, without Mitch, I would never have made it. I’d had a very short taste of going it alone and it exhausted me in a way I knew would seep into my bones. I’d have had to take time off. I would have had to load up a sick Billie and wake up her brother so I could go to the drugstore to get her Tylenol. In fact, I wouldn’t have even known to
get
her some Tylenol.

Though, I probably would have called Roberta and learned that.

Still, it would have been harder without him.

A lot harder.

Exhausting.

I stared at Mitch. He’d done all that without complaint, without looking tired, without getting pissed, without me asking. And through all that, he also took care of me, snuggling with me on the couch when I needed to zone out. Making me chili. Making me breakfast right along with the kids. Turning off my alarm so I could sleep in.

What sane man in the whole of the United States of America takes on a pathologically shy, Two Point Five woman who only owns a hammer? A woman who doesn’t know there’s a valve to switch off the water? A woman who runs away on what was, apparently, your first date and stands you him up on your second? Then suddenly she finds herself the guardian of two children and has a family that was sent to earth straight from hell because even the devil himself didn’t want to spend time with them?

“You’re a very unusual man, Detective Mitch Lawson, and I think maybe this is because you aren’t totally sane,” I blurted because the words bubbled up inside of me and forced their way out before I could hold them back.

When they did Mitch blinked then he threw his head back and laughed.

I watched him laugh thinking that was proof he
was
insane at the same time thinking the same thing I always thought when he laughed. And that was that he looked unbelievably good when he laughed.

When he stopped laughing, he leaned toward me and lifted our hands toward his mouth.

“Are you sayin’ we have a deal?”

“No.” I shook my head and the humor fled from his face so I hastily explained, “I play this game with you Mitch, it’s not only me playing it. Two other people are involved.”

“Remember, Mara, I know that.”

“This doesn’t work, then they –”

“I ever give you cause to think I’d fuck you over
or
them?”

“No, but –”

“What I have with you and what I want to have with you is exclusive to what I have with each of those kids. What they have from me is what they’ll always have from me, if they want it, whether I still have something with you or not.”

I felt my throat close and wet hit my eyes.

God, he was really a great guy.

“You like them,” I whispered.

“They’re good kids,” he replied.

“They like you,” I told him.

“I know.”

I pressed my lips together, swallowed and then pulled in a deep breath to control my tears before they spilled over and ruined my makeup.

Mitch watched this without a word.

Then he asked, “Do we have a deal?”

“You and me are against all the laws in the universe,” I explained.

“No, you and me are against all the laws in twisted, fucked up Mara World but I’m gonna straighten out Mara World so, answer me, do we have a deal?”

I bit my lip. I considered this deal. And I knew it would be me who was insane if I made it.

Then, because I
was
insane, I whispered, “We do if you promise me one thing.”

His hand tensed and his eyes stayed locked to mine. “What?”

I kept whispering when I said, “When you figure it out and move onto a beautiful life, don’t regret the time you wasted on me.”

He stared at me a second then closed his eyes, turned his head and brought our hands to his lips. He just rested them there and he did this for what seemed like a long time.

Then he slid my knuckles across his lips, opened his eyes and faced me.

Then he whispered back, “I promise I’ll never regret being with you, Mara.”

I nodded. “Then we have a deal.”

That was when our antipasti arrived.

* * * * *

We shared a three course meal. Mitch had another beer and I had two glasses of wine

During our meal Mitch didn’t let me descend into a freak out about making a stupid deal that would lead to heartbreak and, likely, me spending the rest of my days reading the works of Sylvia Plath (and the like).

Instead, I learned that Mitch had been born in Pennsylvania and his father had moved them to Colorado when he was five. I also learned Penny was his older sister and he had a younger sister named Judy who was a physical therapist at a rehabilitation center in Vail.

He further shared the scary news that he’d been engaged to his high school sweetheart who stayed his sweetheart through college. He went on to share the crazy news that he broke it off with her when he became the cop he wanted to be and he didn’t go to work for her Daddy at his bank like she wanted him to do and she started to get bitchy.

He also shared the infinitely
scarier
news that he moved into our complex because it had a gym and a running trail but he expected only to be there a couple of years while he saved to put down on a house. This news was infinitely scarier because he stayed there because he liked the gym, the running trail and seeing me in shorts or catching a glimpse of me next to the pool wearing a bikini in the summer.

As this knowledge threatened to break the hold he had on my freak out, Mitch deftly steered the conversation to music and movies. However, he lost his hold upon finding out I was an action movie freak then promptly declared I was the perfect woman because I had a great ass, long legs, “fantastic fuckin’ hair… and even better when it’s down”, liked baseball, “though… the Cubs… uh, baby” (this muttered on a teasing grin) and I also liked to watch things blow up.