His Ordinary Life (14 page)

With his thumbs, he caressed her shoulders. “I love it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to do this.” He lowered his head, his mouth feathering over hers. “Or this.” Again, he kissed her, molding his lips to hers. A remembered fire burned through her veins and she pressed closer. He chuckled against her mouth. “Or maybe this.” His tongue made a teasing foray inside before he lifted his head. “Did I get any of that right?”

She smiled. “Oh, quite a bit.”

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, and he pulled her into a close embrace, his face buried in her neck. “God, I love you.”

Barbara froze, the words echoing. It was too soon, with too much of the past still between them. She flattened her hands along his back and rubbed her cheek against his hair. “Oh, Del, not yet.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make it any less true.” He sighed and tightened his arms. Straightening, he looked down at her, his gaze dark and serious. “I won’t say it again until you’re ready to hear it. And I won’t let anything else happen to him, Barb. Or to you or the girls. I swear it.”

How would he stop it, when they didn’t even know whom to be wary of? She shivered, the sensation of an unknown threat hovering in the artificially cool air.

He fingered a strand of her hair. “I don’t think I should go to Tick’s tonight. I want to be in the house with you all.”

She hesitated. She wanted him there, too, but memories of that morning assaulted her. Could she have him that close and not give in to temptation?

A wry grin quirked at his mouth. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Please, Barb. I swear, I won’t sleep at all if I’m at Tick’s wondering what’s going on at your place, if y’all are safe.”

She nodded. “You can stay with the girls, but I want to be here.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she forestalled him. “Tick said he’d have a deputy outside. We’ll be fine. And I wouldn’t be able to sleep at home, wondering if he was okay. He’s still my baby, Del.”

“Okay, we’ll do it your way.”

Something told her he wasn’t only talking about their sleeping arrangements.

“Dr. Mackey says he’s recovering as expected. He’s young and strong, so that means his body should bounce back more quickly.” Juggling a pizza box, Del unlocked the back door. He glanced at his daughters, concern dimming Lyssa’s eyes, Anna staring at the deck floor, her backpack dangling from a listless hand. No need to tell them what else Jay Mackey had said about remaining worries of possible infection and renewed bleeding. He forced what he hoped was a reassuring grin. “He’ll be home before you know it.”

“Promise?” Lyssa’s small voice stopped him dead.

He placed the pizza box on the island with undue care and looked up to find Anna’s unreadable gaze on him. She had his eyes, all three of the children did, the dark chocolate brown he shared with his own siblings, the eyes he’d inherited from his father. Memory shimmered over him, looking into his father’s unfathomable gaze, telling Daddy Will was gone, and seeing that same inscrutable look.

With a deep breath, he shook his head. “I can’t do that. Sometimes things happen that you didn’t plan on. It might take him a little longer to get well.” He reached out to ruffle Lyssa’s smooth hair. “You wouldn’t want me to make you a promise I couldn’t keep, would you?”

“Of course not,” Anna replied for her sister. Scowling, she shifted her bag to her shoulder. “I’m not hungry.”

Lyssa edged toward the door, apology glowing in her sympathetic gaze. “Is it okay if I call Lauren? I’ll eat later.”

“Go ahead.” He pushed the words past the lump of regret lodged in his throat. Talking about not breaking promises, when he’d broken the most elemental one. Damn it, when would he learn to think before speaking? He cast a sideways glance at the counter, remembering Barbara wrapped around him. When would he learn to think, period? Even as badly as he’d wanted her, if he’d had half the sense God gave a gnat, he’d have stopped, pulled his mouth from hers, made her listen to what he had to say. About Blake. About how he felt about her.

He was still a sucker for her, as much as he always had been. Tick was right—only she didn’t even have to say “jump”. One look, one touch, a smile, and he was ready to do whatever she wanted.

Cordless phone pressed to her ear, Lyssa wandered in, retrieved a soda from the refrigerator and headed out to the pool area. Del let out a long sigh, his stomach clenching. He needed to talk to Anna and the prospect was more daunting than he wanted to admit. Another road without a map. Another conversation he couldn’t afford to mess up.

Leaving the pizza box on the island, he walked through the dining room and down the hall. The doors to the children’s rooms stood open, Blake’s empty and waiting for him. Del’s throat closed, and clearing it, he turned to the girls’ room.

Lying on her bed with an open book before her, Anna didn’t look up. Del rapped a knuckle on the doorjamb. “Anna Nana? Can I come in?”

She shrugged, her gaze remaining on the book. “I guess.”

He glanced around the room before sitting on the edge of Lyssa’s bed. Blue and white pom-poms spilled over the top of the white French provincial bookshelf. Karate trophies and medals marched along the top shelf with books and photos taking up the shelves below. He nudged a cheerleading shoe with his toe, wondering how to start this conversation. He cleared his throat again and looked up to find Anna’s enigmatic gaze on him. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely.

Anna pushed the book aside and sat up, feet tucked beneath her. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip. “What did you want to talk about?”

Don’t screw this up. Think about what you need to say.
“About you and me. About me and your mama.”

She narrowed her eyes, a mutinous expression tightening her mouth. She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

He didn’t either. Trying to appear relaxed, he forced a smile. “I think we need to, though, don’t you?”

She dropped her gaze, picking at a loose thread on her pale pink comforter. “I dunno. You can’t make me.”

“Anna.” He waited until she lifted her gaze to his. “One of the reasons your mama and I aren’t together anymore is because we didn’t talk when we should have. I know you—”

“You made her cry.” The accusation in those dark eyes cut.

He nodded, remembering the scene Anna had walked in on, the shimmer of tears in Barbara’s gaze, her efforts to hide them. “I did. I’ve done a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”

Looking away again, she snatched up her pillow and hugged it, rocking slightly. “She cried the night I was sick and asked her to call you. Afterwards. I heard her. I’m really mad at you.” Tears hovered in Anna’s voice and he wanted to close his eyes, to block out the anguish on his daughter’s face. “I know.”

“Daddies aren’t supposed to leave. We needed you. Mama couldn’t help Lys with her math like you did. Blake’s been such a jerk since you left. And even though Uncle Tick took Lys and me to the Daddy and Daughter Spring Fling dance at school, it wasn’t the same.”

He did close his eyes then, momentarily robbed of breath. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

There was absolutely nothing he could do to erase the failures or Anna’s hurt. He couldn’t even make promises of how their lives would be different in the future. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then opened his eyes. He raised his head, locking gazes with his youngest child. “I can’t change any of that, Anna, as much as I wish I could.”

“I know.” Her voice hushed, she hugged the pillow tighter.

He let several seconds fall between them. “So where do we go from here?”

She shrugged. “We go forward. We can’t go back.”

A roadmap. She was offering him a path to follow. He stared, a lightness in his chest he’d almost forgotten could exist. An irresistible smile tugged at his mouth. “Yeah, we can do that, can’t we?”

A long pause stretched between them. Anna fiddled with the furry fringe on her pillowcase. She didn’t look up at him. “Why did you leave us?”

The body blow of a question, delivered in an impossibly small voice, left him winded.

He dragged in a deep breath, burning his lungs. “You know, adults don’t always do the smart thing. We…I acted without thinking. No, that’s not true. I thought, but I only thought about myself.”

Using her lashes as a veil, she glanced at him. “Did you stop loving Mama?”

Did you stop loving us, too?
The silent question hovered beneath the spoken one. He swallowed, bound by his promise to Barbara that the kids wouldn’t know they were considering a reconciliation. And how to explain to his thirteen-year-old that loving her mother had never been the problem, but thinking that Barbara no longer loved him?

“No.” He shook his head. “No matter what, I’ll always love your mama. She’s…your mother. That’s important to me. But love, adult love, can change and…”

She was eyeing him now, biting at her lip again. He was screwing this all to hell. He rubbed damp palms over his knees and tried once more. “Your mama and I love you, all three of you.” He reached out to cradle her chin in his palm. “I love you, Anna. Nothing,
nothing
, will ever change that.”

And I’ll never leave you again
. If Barbara gave him a real, solid chance, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to all of them.

“I’m telling you, it’s the weirdest teaching day I’ve ever had.” Melanie dug into the fast-food bag and pulled out two hamburgers, passing one to Barbara.

“What do you mean?” Barbara unwrapped the still-warm bundle and an early evening breeze flirted with the edges of the paper wrapper. They had the hospital patio to themselves, and in Melanie’s familiar presence, some of the tension gripping the base of her neck evaporated.

“The kids are too quiet. You know that whole thing about the calm before the storm? It’s like that. Lots of quiet gossiping in the hall, conversations that just die when an adult walks by.” Melanie lifted the top bun of her burger and peeled off the pickles.

“Is that normal?” Tick asked over Barbara’s head and she jumped. Lord, she hated how quietly he moved. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she resisted the urge to glare. He indicated the third chair at the table. “May I join you?”

Suppressing her irrational resentment, she nodded. “This is my friend Melanie Williams—”

“We met earlier,” Melanie said, her smile polite and a little chilly. “When he pulled Robbie Laurence out of my lab to interview him.”

“Robbie?” Barbara asked, askance. An honor student, Robbie was one of the most respectful young men she’d ever met.

Tick shrugged. “He was on campus the same time Blake was Wednesday afternoon.”

Melanie sipped her soda. “Along with three hundred other kids.”

“And I’ve talked to fifty percent or so of those today.” Tick pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. Barbara lifted an eyebrow at him and he grimaced, putting them away. “And if they know anything, they’re not saying it. Not to teachers or counselors, and certainly not to me.”

The fear gripped Barbara. What if they never found whoever was responsible for hurting Blake, for killing Cassie? She pushed her hamburger to one side, what little appetite she had gone. She couldn’t face years of this, wondering where the threat was, wondering if Blake was safe.

“I’ve had tons of kids in and out of my room today, though,” Melanie said. “Asking about Blake and about you, wanting to know if they can come see him.”

“He can’t have regular visitors until he’s in a regular room.” Remembering Tick’s belief that the attacker would attempt to visit him, she shivered. She probably knew the person, had maybe even taught him or her. Was it one of Blake’s friends, someone who’d been welcome in their home?

Relax, Del said. He’d keep them safe. She wanted to believe him. She did. But one question echoed in her mind.

How could he keep them safe when they had no idea where the threat lay?

“You didn’t answer me,” Tick said. “Are the kids acting normally?”

Melanie shrugged. “Sort of. The ones who usually confide in us are—the girls want to cry over Blake and Cassie. The boys are quiet, but a lot of them have questions. Mason Monroe stopped by this afternoon to see if I’d heard anything. And Jamie Reese, of course. He wanted to know when he could visit.”

Barbara tried to smile. Both boys had called the night before, as well as half of Blake’s homeroom class, checking on him. All these children she’d had in her home over the years and she would never look at any of them the same again.

She turned to her brother-in-law and attempted to keep her voice steady. “Did you find out anything at all?”

“At this point, nothing that seems important.” He covered her hand, giving a brief squeeze. “But it’s all about taking those insignificant leads and putting them together. We have a small time period when Blake was injured. We can target Cassie’s time of death. The forensics guy over at the Moultrie crime lab got us a DNA profile from the skin under Blake’s fingernails. It’ll come together.”

Eyes closed, she nodded, utterly terrified at what those clues would reveal.