Place Your Betts (The Marilyns) (26 page)

How could he make Betts understand all that his mother had endured for him? Giving up what he’d wanted was the least he could do for her. “She told me that she couldn’t go back to the ‘hospital’ again…it would kill her.”

Betts studied him for a while. Gabe kept his head held high and didn’t break eye contact. Taking responsibility for his transgressions was the least he could do for her. He’d cowered in the face of adversity, while she’d stood strong and had taken the brunt of the pain. As long as he lived, he’d never forgive himself.

“What happened to her?”

“My father left her alone for a while. Then the big house burned down, my father got arrested, and then he died.” He shrugged. “A little over a year later, she died.” That’s how he’d found out about Tom—his mother had written him a letter and left it in her safety deposit box.

“So you saved her…good.” Betts sat stone-faced. She tried to pull off a casual shrug, but it was jerky and forced. “It doesn’t matter. I take full responsibility for my mistakes. I should have seen the writing on the wall. Not taking my phone calls or answering my letters was a pretty clear indication of your feelings. Love makes you blind and, in my case”—she laughed, but it sounded hollow—“stupid.”

Had she loved him?

He swallowed hard. Right now, he’d never wanted anything more. But “loved” was past tense. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Any feelings she’d had for him would have died a long time ago, he’d made sure of that. The empty wasteland that was his life after she’d left seemed like a picnic compared to what he’d put her through. That horrible night, she’d come to the house sopping wet and alone to tell the man she loved that she was going to have his baby, and he’d thrown her to the wolves. The beer in his stomach heaved, and he thought he was going to be sick. Gabe took a deep breath and closed his eyes until the churning in his stomach settled.

Could she forgive him?

No.

The only woman he’d ever truly loved would hate him forever, because what he’d done was unforgivable.

His heart shriveled to the size of a pea. He wanted to shake her and force her to understand. That night had affected him too. Of all the things he’d done in his life, that was by far the worst. All these years, he’d justified his behavior because he’d been saving his mother. Now, he could no longer cling to that lie.

Betts had made some mistakes—she wasn’t blameless—but he’d forced her into the situation by not standing by her. Choosing to keep her baby or give it away must have been hard. Would she have made a different decision if Gabe hadn’t caved to his father?

Gabe stood and walked to the door. “For months, I replayed your phone messages just to hear your voice.” He couldn’t look at her. “Every word you ever wrote me is sitting in a metal lockbox in the attic. I pulled out your letters when I missed you so much that I needed to touch something you had touched.” He hit the door button. “Love also makes you sentimental.”

Gabe walked out into the moonlight, and Betts didn’t stop him. He had no right to think she would.

Tom Swanson was big man on campus. People were going out of their way to talk to him, girls who’d never looked at him twice made a point to smile and wave, and guys who’d ignored him since kindergarten high-fived him in the hall.

All because of Kaitlin.

Love did strange things to a man. He wanted to do things for her, impress her, and making her smile made him smile. It was fantastic. She loved him. She said it all the time.

Last night, she had wanted to go all the way, but her parents had been expected home at any minute. Maybe this weekend? Tom could wait because she was worth it.

As he walked to the cafeteria for lunch, Kaitlin waved and ran up to him. She kissed him lightly on the mouth and pulled him to her table. The cheerleaders and some of the football team gathered around a long table at the back. The cool table. His table. Lance Stringfellow sat on the other side of the room and did nothing but glare at Tom. Just to piss Lance off, Tom slipped his arm around Kaitlin, slid his hand down her back, and rested it on her back pocket.

It was immature and possessive, but he didn’t care. Tom knew for a fact that he was the only one who’d ever been in those pants because last night Kaitlin had confessed that she hadn’t gone all the way with Lance. But she wanted to with Tom. Pride was a beautiful thing.

“Tom.” Cheyann Fair shot him a pout. “Kaitlin won’t let you help me with my physics homework. Tell her you can.”

“Sorry. I do what I’m told.” As he held the chair out for Kaitlin, she brushed her breasts against his side before she sat down. Tom dropped into the chair next to her.

“What’s Betts Monroe really like?” Stanley Roeminger shoved a handful of fries in his mouth.

“She’s cool. Funny. Nice. Normal.” Tom had always liked Stanley. The all-state defensive tackle had been nice to Tom since the sixth grade when he’d let Stan copy his homework. What Stan lacked in intelligence, he made up for in loyalty.

“Why is she living out by you?” Linde Price dipped a carrot in some ranch dressing and bit in.

“She and my dad are old friends—”

“They used to date.” Kaitlin leaned forward. “Can you believe it? A famous country star used to date his father?”

“How come nobody knew it until now?” Cheyann smiled at Tom. Why was she leaning forward so her shirt gaped open?

“It was a long time ago. They’re old. Who knows?” Tom looked away. Kaitlin caught his eye and squeezed his thigh. He squeezed hers back. She laced her fingers through his. Eating lunch one-handed would be challenging, but he’d manage.

“It must be nice having someone that famous living so close to you.” Cheyann winked at Tom.

He smiled at Kaitlin again while she glared at Cheyann.

“Can I meet her?” Stanley threw a fry up in the air and caught it in his mouth.

“Sure. She’s home most of the time. Doesn’t go out much because she likes her privacy.”

“Don’t we all know it.” Cheyann rolled her eyes. “My dad is convinced that the Methodists have tapped our phone. He insists that we use code words—like instead of saying Betts Monroe, we call her the clean laundry…you know like, have you seen the clean laundry today?” She shook her head. “It’s so stupid.”

“I know what you mean. My daddy’s a member of the Lions Club, and they’re talking about setting up checkpoints on all the roads leading into town. They’re only gonna let townspeople and native Texans through.”

“Someone could parachute in.” Stanley threw another fry up into the air, but it missed his mouth and landed in Linde’s ranch dressing.

“I don’t think that’s likely.” As Tom fumbled one-handed with his lunch sack, Kaitlin grabbed the bottom, and together they unrolled it. They were a team.

“What did you bring?” Kaitlin eyed his lunch. She had a salad with no dressing—exactly the same thing she’d brought yesterday. Her mother didn’t let her eat very much. Tom smiled. Last night he’d talked her into eating a DQ steak finger basket and an M&M Blizzard, and he’d enjoyed watching her eat every bite.

“I don’t know. I was gonna buy today, but Betts handed me this on my way out.” Tom upended the bag. A mountain of ziplock bags rolled out. “Looks like a couple of roast beef sandwiches, an apple, a peach, some chips, two different kinds of cookies, and a coke.”

“Dang, that’s a feast.” Stanley eyed the sandwiches.

Tom tossed him one. “Here.”

“Really? Thanks, man.” Stan snatched up the bag. “You are so lucky to have someone to make you lunch.”

Kaitlin leaned close to Tom’s ear. “His mom drinks, a lot. She’s toasted most of the time.”

Tom nodded. Maybe he’d ask Betts to pack two lunches. He slid the cookies to Kaitlin. “Looks like oatmeal raisin and peanut butter. Help yourself.”

Kaitlin stared at them and swallowed. “I can’t. After last night.”

“You have cheerleading practice after school today. You need your strength.” Tom opened the bag. “I highly recommend the oatmeal raisin.”

“Okay.” Kaitlin took the cookie and bit in. Her eyes closed as she chewed slowly. Bliss was the only way to describe the look on her face.

“Your mom’s gonna shit a brick.” Cheyann smiled and her eyes contracted to reptilian slits. “The great Kaitlin Smith eating something other than salad. The world must be coming to an end.”

Kaitlin dropped the cookie and looked down.

Tom squeezed her knee. “I hope not. Kaitlin’s coming over for dinner tonight. Betts asked me twice this morning to make sure. Something about wanting Kaitlin’s opinion on a new song Betts has been working on.” He glanced at Kat. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. She wants to know when you can show her some store where you bought some boots. She wanted to know when you were free?”

Kaitlin’s shoulders straightened, and her chin went up. “Oops, I forgot about the boots. I can’t wait to hear her new song.”

“Think she’ll give credit to you for helping her on it? She might even tweet about the new talent she just discovered.” Linde’s eyes were the size of bowling balls. “That’d be so cool. You’d be famous.”

“Naw.” Kaitlin rolled her eyes. “Betts probably just wants a fresh pair of ears.”

“But you’re a good singer.” Linde was on a roll. “What if you ended up singing backup for her? Then you could write some of your own songs and open for her.” Linde looked at Tom. “What do you think?”

“Who knows?” Tom shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” What did he know about the music business? Betts thought he had talent and had listened to him and never made fun.

It was good having Betts around. When she was in the same room, the old man looked about ten years younger and smiled a lot. Tom noticed these things now that he was in love. Not to mention, the house remodel—there was nothing cooler than coming home to an almost brand-new house. And the new TV in his room was nothing to shake a stick at. Betts Monroe was just about the best thing that had ever happened to Tom Swanson. Except for Kaitlin.

Sleep hadn’t come easily last night. Betts stared in the bathroom mirror at the dark circles under her eyes. Crack spackle wouldn’t cover those suckers, but she patted on more concealer anyway. At least her eyes weren’t puffy. Tears hadn’t been the problem. An overactive mind had kept her staring at the ceiling most of the night. Betts brushed on face powder and blush then outlined her eyes and swiped on mascara.

Did it matter that Gabe had really loved her? Hurt, anger, and guilt had been her constant companions these seventeen years. She’d worked harder and fought her way to the top partly because she needed to rub his nose in her prosperity.

But he hadn’t really thrown her away because she’d meant more to him than just a piece of ass. Would she be where she was today if she hadn’t used her anger to prove him wrong? Her hatred had been like a Band-Aid holding her broken heart together. But he had loved her.

Would he again? Could they come together and be a family for Tom? The yearning for a future with Gabe began to outweigh the guilt and pain she’d lived on by insisting that it couldn’t have been.

In the last twelve hours, her world had tilted off its axis and was out of focus. Gabe had loved her. How many times had she dreamed that he would come riding in, sweep her off her feet, they’d get married, and live happily ever after? Her first trimester, that fantasy had kept her going. By the third, it had dissolved into hate, and that hate had filled the void left in her heart after Tom had been taken away. Now, learning the truth was like learning Santa Claus wasn’t real or realizing that her personal idols were just plain old people. One of her foundations had been knocked out from under her, and she was off-balance, stumbling around.

And what did she expect would happen now? Would they pick up where they’d left off? Could he love her again? Hope rose like a phoenix from the ashes. They couldn’t go back and change the past, but did they have a future as husband and wife? A family?

Maybe. The hot rollers—gone cold—banged against her shoulders. At the same time, they had too much history and not enough. Picking up where they’d left off was out of the question, but coming together out of mutual respect and a love for their son wasn’t.

Gabe hadn’t said that he still loved her. But he’d kept her letters? She closed her eyes and sighed. She had zero long-term relationship experience. There had been men here and there, but she’d made sure she never stayed too long or got too close.

Betts unzipped the light peach cotton dress and stepped into it. This was her color, and the tight bodice that bloomed into a full, pleated skirt was very feminine. She wasn’t dressing for Gabe but herself. That was a lie. She was dressing for Gabe.

In quick succession, she unwound the rollers and popped them back on their individual spikes. She tried her hair up in a ponytail, but she looked like she was headed for a school dance. Coiled at the back of her neck made her look ten years older. In the end, she combed her fingers through it and shook it out. The shaggy layers fell into place in what her stylist had called “wind-blown casual.” Whatever that meant.

She was trying too hard, but she couldn’t help herself. It was like she was sixteen again and getting ready for a date with her boyfriend. Only he wasn’t her boyfriend, and she was older and supposed to be wiser. Did it make her weak to want him again? There was more than just her heart at stake; her life with her son hung in the balance. Betts press a hand to her stomach, trying to settle the nerves arm wrestling inside. It was time to shove all her chips into the middle of the table and trust that Gabe would deal her the cards she needed to win. But her life wasn’t a poker game.

Betts checked out her reflection in the full-length mirror that served as a closet door. She was still young by current standards and took pretty good care of herself, but her body was a far cry from the supple teenager Gabe had cared for. Had he noticed her hips were rounder and her breasts were lower?

Gabe had gotten better with age, and she’d just gotten…older. Figured.

Betts slid in a fancy pair of filigree earrings, stepped into some beaded, leather flip-flops, and went to check on supper.