His Ordinary Life (24 page)

A brisk breeze tossed stray pecan leaves across the street. Tick leaned against his dusty pickup, parked at the curb, and Del lifted a hand in a wave as he pulled into the driveway. He pushed the door open and stepped out of the SUV, stretching to work the kinks out of his spine.

“Sorry I’m late,” he called, moving to open the hatch. “Traffic was backed up on the interstate. You been here long?”

“Ten or fifteen minutes.” Tick levered away from the bed of his truck. “Get everything taken care of?”

“Yeah.” Del pulled the first of the cardboard boxes taking up the cargo area. Pretty sad that he’d packed up his apartment in one truckload and ninety percent of the stuff was clothes and insurance manuals. Balancing the box on his hip, he sorted through his keys to find the shiny new one that opened the kitchen door.

Tick glanced at his watch. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“It’s Thursday.” Del grinned and headed up the walk to the back of the house. “Gymnastics, karate
and
a trip to the grocery store. We have plenty of time.”

The kitchen door swung open and home enveloped him. He took a deep breath, the scents of citrus and roses mingling with the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. The house sat silent, waiting, but sunlight streamed through leaded glass and sparkled on the white countertops. He closed his eyes. He’d missed this the last four days while he’d tied up everything in Atlanta, so much that he was home a whole twenty-four hours earlier than he’d planned.

“You going to stand there fantasizing all afternoon, or are we going to get this done before Barbara gets home?” Tick’s wry voice pulled him back to reality.

Setting the box beside the island, he shook his head. “Just help me unload this stuff, would you?”

Del glanced at his brother as they ambled back to the SUV. “How did the arraignment go?”

“Nothing surprising.” Tick shrugged. “Both of them put in a not guilty plea. McMillian offered Monroe a plea bargain if he’d roll on Rawlings, but no deal. Can’t get a statement out of either one of them.”

“You really need one?”

“Not with the way this case is falling together. Between Keimond Jones’s statement and what the GBI’s computer forensics guy pulled out of the school computer, we’ve got motive for Cassie Howard’s death and the attack on Jones.”

“So Rawlings really was fixing grades for money?”

Tick nodded. “And not just Barbara’s classes either. Chemistry, trig, you name it, and we found it. The Howard girl’s attendance record had been altered, too. According to Jones, Rawlings had gotten involved with her sexually. When he tried to break it off, she threatened to tell.”

Del grabbed the next box and tugged. “So they killed her.”

“Yeah. And blackmailed or intimidated Jones into helping Monroe dump the body. Only problem was Blake showed up, looking for Jamie Reese to go hang out, and scared them. They needed him quiet.”

Nausea pushed into Del’s throat, his stomach turning over. He still had a hard time thinking about how close they’d come to losing Blake. He let the box rest on the bumper and ran a hand over his face. “We’re lucky they didn’t just kill him, too.”

“You have no idea.” Tick’s mouth thinned to a tight line. “But you shouldn’t have to worry about either of them for a long, long time. McMillian is prosecuting Monroe as an adult, and without their cooperation, he’s going for the maximum sentence. He’ll get it, too.”

“Good.” Del didn’t have room for forgiveness yet, even knowing the circumstances of Monroe and Rawlings’s childhood. It didn’t excuse what they’d done to his son, to Keimond Jones, to Cassie Howard. Maybe when the angry red surgical scar faded on Blake’s body. But he doubted it.

“Does Jay know Blake went back to school today?”

Del nodded. “He said Blake obviously took after you.” A pleased grin flashed across Tick’s face and Del smirked. “Stubborn as hell.”

Hauling another cardboard carton out of the cargo area, Tick eyed Del. “You better hope Barbara still likes surprises.”

Grinning, Del grabbed his box again and moved toward the house. “Trust me. She’s gonna love it.”

“Give me that!” Lyssa’s indignant screech bounced within the confines of the 4-Runner and Barbara winced. A low ache pulsing at her temples, she glanced in the rearview mirror, in time to see her older-by-seven-minutes daughter make a grab for the note Anna held. “Anna, I mean it. Give it back, right now.”

“Oooh, I’m scared.” Anna giggled, making googly-eyes at her sister and dancing the intricately folded piece of paper in the air. “Who’s it from? Kevin?”

“Mama, make her give it back!” Lyssa’s voice deteriorated to a plaintive whine.

“Mama, please.” Blake stirred in the front seat, lifting his head from the headrest. Exhaustion dragged at his pale features and a spurt of guilt pinched Barbara. She shouldn’t have given in to his insistence that he was ready to return to school, just a week after his release from the hospital, although she’d understood his desire for his life to return to normal. “Tell ’em to be quiet.”

Braking for a stoplight, Barbara lifted her gaze to the mirror again. “Anna, give back the note. Lyssa, stop screaming.”

Anna flicked the note into her sister’s lap with a disgusted movement. Face set in an expression of extreme satisfaction, Lyssa poked her tongue out at Anna. Huffing, Anna turned away, staring out the window.

Quiet descended. The light turned green, and Barbara breathed a sigh of relief, easing into her left turn. Three miles to the house. Three minutes and she could turn them loose. Or send them to their rooms and forbid them to set foot out until dinner. Oh, that sounded good.

“When’s Daddy coming home?” Lyssa kicked the back of Blake’s seat.

He yelped and jerked upright, holding his side. “Brat! Mama, she did that on purpose—”

“Enough.” She injected a hefty note of stop-it-or-else into her voice and in the mirror pinned Lyssa with a stern look. Lyssa dropped her eyes guiltily, slumping in her seat. Flexing her fingers around the steering wheel, she took a deep breath. “Tomorrow. He said he’d be back tomorrow.”

And it couldn’t get here soon enough. She missed him, and hearing his deep voice in the dark late the night before had made the wanting worse. She sighed. Sunday night, when they’d been wrapped around each other on the couch, the kids asleep, they’d laughed and sighed over plans for their future. Driving with one hand, she rested her elbow on the door and her head on her hand. Barbara wanted her husband back.

She slowed to turn onto their street and massaged her aching forehead with her free hand. A familiar dusty Z71 waited at the curb.

“Why’s Uncle Tick at the house?” The words quavered as nervousness invaded Blake’s voice.

“I don’t know.” Barbara squashed a spurt of anxiety. Today had been Mason and Brian’s arraignment. Surely nothing had gone wrong there. But why else would Tick be here, waiting for them?

She cleared the slight curve with the big oak that shielded the house from view. Her pulse picked up. A gleaming Volvo SUV sat in her driveway. A rush of excitement ran through her and pooled in her stomach.

“Daddy’s here!” Lyssa’s voice echoed that exhilaration and Barbara barely had the truck stopped before the girls were out, racing up the walk to the front door. Blake followed more slowly, still favoring his side, but Barbara glimpsed a flash of his pleased grin. Pulling the keys from the ignition, she climbed out.

The front door stood open and she sighed, envisioning waves of air conditioning rolling out. They’d abandoned her to the groceries, too. Stalking to the rear of the 4-Runner, she opened the hatch. A cargo load of blue plastic shopping bags waited for her.

Oh, heck, forget the groceries. She’d send the kids back after them; then she’d kiss their father senseless. She grabbed a handful of bags and headed for the house, anticipation bubbling and simmering.

The living room was empty and she pushed the door closed behind her with a foot. Three backpacks lay in a haphazard path between the couch and the kitchen. She stepped over Blake’s and followed the sound of excited voices.

“Thanks for the help, guys,” she said and dropped the bags on the counter by the refrigerator. Tick lounged against the counter, one foot propped over the other. Standing at the island, an open can of soda waiting, Del grinned at her, an arm around each of the girls. Blake leaned against a stool, shirt hiked up to show his father and uncle his scar.

Del looked wonderful, his hair neatly trimmed, his jaw smooth, a French blue buttondown making his eyes darker. Her breath stalled and she smiled, heart slowing then speeding up again. “Hi.”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “Hey.”

“You’re early.” The inanity drove her crazy. All she really wanted to do was throw herself into his arms, but she remained rooted to the spot, unable to think, unable to do anything but drink in his presence.

His grin widened. “Is that a problem?”

“No.” She shook her head, smiling.

He released the girls and stood. “Y’all go bring in the groceries.”

Tick straightened. “Come on, Blake. We’ll supervise.”

In a flurry of giggles and smiles, the girls trooped out. Tick and Blake followed more slowly, leaving them alone. The front door slammed.

Del crooked a finger at her. “Get over here.”

Three steps and he enfolded her in his arms, his mouth on hers, and she was burning up, pressing closer, devouring him. Laughing, she pulled her lips from his and buried her face against his throat. The sharp, clean scent of soap clung to his skin. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Hey, Barbara Gail, are you allowed out on school nights?”

Tempted, she sighed and kissed his collarbone. “Hmmm, I don’t know…although all my homework’s done.”

“Tick said he’d watch the kids.” He tipped her face up and kissed her again. “We can sneak out like we used to.”

She ran her hands over his chest and around his rib cage, loving the solid feel of him. “Sneaking out got you into a world of trouble, remember?”

He cut the words off with another kiss. “Sneaking out got me everything I ever wanted.”

The front door creaked open, querulous voices filling the silence. Del pulled back with a rueful grin. “We might better make a quick getaway before that fussing gets on Tick’s nerves.”

Blake dropped two bags on the floor. A jar of spaghetti sauce rolled across the polished tile, and he grinned. “Uncle Tick says we’re ordering pizza and watching a movie.”

“No olives on the pizza.” Anna made a face. “Or banana peppers.”

Lyssa poked Blake’s shoulder. “And you don’t get to pick the movie.”

“Who says?” Keeping his injured side well away from her, Blake wrapped an arm around her neck and rubbed his knuckles across her head. She tried to stomp his foot and he laughed.

“Y’all stop before someone gets hurt.” Del’s voice lowered to a stern note. He jerked his chin at Tick and held up a hand. “Keys.”

With a grin, Tick dug in his pocket. Metal jingled as he tossed his key ring in Del’s direction. “Don’t be too late. Some of us have to be on duty early in the morning.”

“Put the groceries away.” Barbara glanced among the kids. “Make sure homework is done before—”

“Mama.” Blake’s expression was long-suffering. “School’s out after tomorrow, remember? We don’t
have
any homework.”

“Be good for your Uncle Tick. No fussing. Blake, you might want to go to bed early. And if we’re not back before—”

“Barbara.” Del sighed and grabbed her hand. “Tick can handle it. Come on.”

She let him pull her outside. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and bypassed his SUV for Tick’s truck. He tugged the driver’s door open and stepped back with a courtly flourish.

“Why are we taking your brother’s pickup?” She smiled and slid across the seat.

“Because.” He settled behind the wheel and reached out to tow her close to his side. “Trust me, Barb.”

With a giddy sense of anticipation burbling in her veins, she relaxed and did just that. He took her to dinner and she laughed over his choice of restaurants—the little local burger-and-ice-cream joint they’d frequented as young lovers. She curled into his side in the booth and they lingered over dessert, a caramel sundae. When they stepped outside and walked across the parking lot, the sun was dipping behind the trees.

She dug her elbow into his ribs once he turned onto the rural highway leading out of town. “I suppose now you think we’re going parking.”

He laughed, pure happiness in the sound. “That’s the plan.”

“Del, you’re not serious—”

“Barb.” He moved to lay his arm along the seat, steering with one hand. “
Trust me
.”

He took a right onto a long-neglected red clay road and her breath caught. She laid her hand above his knee and he grinned, teeth flashing white in the dimness of the cab. He negotiated around a couple of deep rutted wash-outs and swung into a grown-over path. Underbrush swished along the sides of the truck.

The path opened up on a small clearing and the headlights picked out the gaping miniature canyon of the abandoned lime mine. Del braked, shifted to park and killed the engine.

Memories and expectancy mingled in Barbara’s heart, anticipation fluttering through her stomach. He turned sideways, the fine cotton of his shirt whispering against the truck seat, and brushed his mouth over hers. “Come on.”

Crickets chirped in the falling night, a couple of frogs joining in the chorus. Muggy humidity lingered in the air, but the promise of cooler temperatures hovered. She watched as he vaulted onto the truck bed and spread out a sleeping bag, the sweetness of the past overlaid with the promise of the future. When he extended his hand to help her climb up, his engaging smile held a hint of the shy one worn by the seventeen-year-old boy who’d first stolen her heart.

Once they lay on their backs, the starry night opening above them, he wriggled his shoulder blades. “I don’t remember this being so darn uncomfortable.”

Laughter lurked in his voice, and she giggled, resting her head on his shoulder, her hand on his abdomen. She entwined her foot with his calf. In the depths of her mind, she could hear the boy and girl they’d been, talking in soft voices under a sky just this sparkling and fine.

Del brushed a long finger along her cheekbone. “This is where we started, isn’t it?”

She nodded, loving the warmth of him against her. “Once upon a time…”

“As long as it ends with happily-ever-after.” He touched the curve of her mouth. “You’re the story of my life, Barb, you and those kids.”

And he was the story of hers. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to begin living each ordinary, wonderful moment of it. She levered up, resting on her elbow.

“I love you,” she murmured against his mouth.

“Oh, baby, I love you, too, so damn much it hurts.” Even in the dark, she could see his eyes glowing. He shifted, trying to get a hand into his pocket, and laughed at the awkwardness of their position. “I have something for you.”

She stared at the small gray velvet box he placed in her palm. He grinned at her. “Open it.”

With trembling fingers, she lifted the lid. A familiar gold band winked at her, nestled against a small, equally familiar diamond solitaire. She blinked away tears. Her rings. “Oh, Del.”

“And this goes with them.” He slid another ring between them, a thin gold band with channel-set diamonds glinting in the starlight.

“I…” Her throat closed and she wrapped her arms around him. “I love you.” She laughed against his cheek and he hugged her close. “You’re wonderful.”

“Give me your hand.” He moved to sit, cross-legged, and Barbara followed. She laid her palm in his and watched as he slid the bands on, his hands shaking visibly.

With the rings in place, she folded her fingers around his. “Perfect fit.”

His grasp on her was almost painful in its intensity. He delved his free hand into his pocket again and she caught the glimmer of gold before he placed his wedding ring in her palm.

She brushed away the tears dampening her face and reached for his left hand. They laughed as she fumbled with the band. It slid smoothly over his knuckle into place. She turned it once, twice, her chest tight with a crush of emotion.

“I love you. Cherish you. Honor you.” He cradled her head and brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’ll be what you need. I’ll be your partner. I promise.”

She touched his chin, swallowing a sob of pure joy. She looked at him and he stared back, his eyes deep and dark and serious. “I love you. I need you. Want you by my side, always. And I’ll be—”

He dipped his head, catching her words with his mouth, but she didn’t miss his reverent whisper.

“My life.”