Second Thoughts (28 page)

“I don’t know how much longer your luck is going to hold,” she added, and the four people exchanged quick goodbyes. “I can understand your not wanting to tell anyone where you’re going,” Kristy told Connie with her hug. “But I hope you’ll at least tell us where you’ve been when you get back.”

Connie and Derek exchanged secretive smiles.

Derek and Kevin traded car keys. Derek looked dubious when relinquishing his. “Don’t worry about it,” his brother said airily. “You take care of my van; I’ll take care of your convertible.”

The snazzy red convertible was a sharper-looking honeymoon vehicle, but the nondescript green sedan was a better getaway car and had won hands down. It was packed and waiting three miles away in a supermarket’s parking lot. The van would get them to it, and its owners could then pick up their vehicle at their leisure.

Kevin walked with them to the service door leading into the parking lot, then clasped an arm around each of them and drew them close. The hug was a tight one. “It better take this time,” he whispered, sounding both gruff and choked. “I’ve gotten dressed up twice for you guys, and I don’t intend to do it again.”

Then his gaze strayed to his wife, and he again checked her out with the eyes of a hungry man. Abruptly he shook himself, as if forcing himself back to the present, released the two people and pointed at the door. “Now get the hell out of here. Go. And for Pete’s sake, at least try to stay out of trouble.”

* * *

One week later, in red cotton shorts and a halter, Connie was stretched out on her back on a padded lounge. If she were any more relaxed, she’d be snoring. Derek, wearing khaki shorts and an open sport shirt in vivid orange and green, stirred on the lounge beside hers.

The day was balmy, the crash of waves thunderous and soporific. In the background, in one of the guesthouses behind them, Willie Nelson was on the road again. She heard Derek slip his shirt off. “Whew. I need a cold beer. How about you?”

“Umm.” She barely managed a negative gesture.

“Anything?”

“Umm.” She managed one more shake of her head.

“You’ve got a serious control problem there. You need to learn to channel all that energy.”

When he returned, he sat and stared at the ocean while sipping his beer. She remained dreamily comatose. Voices grew near, and then chairs scraped as their neighbors joined them on the community terrace.

“Could really go for a root beer,” said one voice.

“Bring me back some ice water,” said another.

“I miss Chris,” said a plaintive voice near Connie’s elbow.

She couldn’t count the number of times Petey had said that since they’d arrived. He was a grown-up living in a lonely child’s world, and Connie’s determination to engineer a play-date between those two kids before Christopher got much older was again reinforced.

Opening her eyes, she gave him a lazy but commiserative glance. Wearing his Bart Simpson t-shirt, well-worn jeans and scruffy sneakers, he looked like the kid that he was.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Moose said. He stared wistfully at the ocean. “Wouldn’t mind having a baby or two on my lap right about now. I could take them wading, and maybe build sand castles and stuff.”

Max laughed as he returned with the drinks. It still seemed strange to hear him laugh, but they’d found that he was a lot more relaxed at his new home on the Mexican coast. “Somehow, it’s hard to imagine a honeymooning couple dragging along three kids.” He handed a glass of water and ice to Moose. “But I am glad they chose to spend some time with old friends.”

“Perfect wedding gift,” Derek said. He sounded like a man at peace with the world and his place in it. “A honeymoon to die for. Beautiful location, great neighbors, cozy cottage. Thanks, Max.”

“Umm,” Connie agreed.

“Moose, may I have that glass for a minute?” Derek asked.

Warned by a sixth sense, Connie sat up—but not fast enough. Half the glass of ice and water splashed across her bare midriff. She yelped, swiped her arm across her stomach, and glared at her husband.

He handed the glass back to Moose. “Thanks. Left you a little bit.”

“That’ll wake you up in a hurry.” Max grinned at her. He wore an oversized sleeveless undershirt which showed off tanned skin, baggy beige shorts, and brown sandals with wide straps.

He added, his gaze taking in the two of them, “And that cottage is yours any time you want it. Just let me know, and I’ll keep it free. Made the same invitation to my old buddy over there. If he ever gets around to needing a private little place for two.”

Moose was silent.

Connie was still glaring at Derek. But once she became aware of the big man’s silence, she turned toward him and drew her sunglasses down onto the bridge of her nose. His Hawaiian shirt had splashes of orange, green and gold, similar to Derek’s, and he wore it over khaki shorts the same style as Derek’s, but each garment was several sizes larger.

“Well?” she asked pointedly.

Not meeting anyone’s eyes, Moose smiled self-consciously at his diminished drink. Then he blushed.

“All right!” Connie brought her open palm down onto Derek’s bare leg below the hem of his shorts, just sharp enough to sting.

“Ow!” He jumped, and then gave her a steady stare.

She put sweet insincerity in her smile. “Sorry. Got this serious control problem. My enthusiasm sometimes gets away from me.”

She looked back at Moose. “When?”

But he still wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes. Sounding and looking ridiculously shy, he mumbled, “We’re working on arrangements. Or at least she is. I’ll be happy with anything.” Awkwardly, he glanced at Max. “But I told her I want to arrange the honeymoon. And I’d like to take you up on that offer, Max. Thanks.”

Max looked like a proud parent. Regarding Moose with a happy half smile, he sat back in his chair, crossed his ankles and folded his hands across his stomach. “Any time, old buddy. You name it.”

Connie was sitting directly opposite Moose. She waited, biding her time, and watched his gaze light everywhere but on her. “Well, big guy,” she drawled, really dragging it out, “you must know by now. Can she, er…uh, cook?”

He turned pink. He directed his gaze at the sky. He asked plaintively, miserably, “Uncle Dare, can you shut her up? Muzzle her…something…anything?”

Her grin grew. “I take it the answer is affirmative?”

Fortunately for her victim, her stomach rumbled. It sounded as loud as a wave crashing on the beach. She made a face, placed her hand on her midriff, and glanced sideways at Derek.

His face split into a grin. “Time for dinner, Mrs. O’Reilly?”

“Evidently. How long? And what is it?”

“Depends. What do you want?”

“Been eyeing that eggplant for two days.”

Max gave her a curious look. “What’s that?”

“That purple thing,” Moose said. It didn’t appear that he even tried to repress his shudder.

“Give it a chance,” Connie told him with a smile. “The way he does it, it’s all tomato-ey and cheesy. You might like it.”

Petey stood up. He didn’t appear any more interested in dinner plans than he’d been in wedding plans. “Max, can I go watch TV? It’s time for the comics.”

“Sure. Did you practice saying your Spanish words today?”

“Three times. They’re getting easy.” He hesitated, looking pained. “You can give me some more if you want to.”

“Tomorrow’s soon enough. Go watch your comics. You’re learning a lot just through TV.”

“That reminds me,” Moose said as Petey left. “The comics. That’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Max. Again. There’s got to be a better place for SteelMan than in your underwear drawer.”

Max shrugged off his friend’s concern. “No one around here even knows I’ve got the thing. If I initiated security measures, then they’d guess I’ve got something valuable. SteelMan’s got a good home. He’ll be just fine right where he is.”

Derek excused himself and went inside to work on the eggplant but returned so quickly Connie guessed he’d prepared it earlier and had simply put it in the oven. She wondered what he would’ve done if she’d said she wanted hamburgers.

She also became aware of the change in Max’s mood. His expression seemed strained as he stared at the ocean, glancing occasionally at Moose, then her and Derek, then back at the surf. She wondered what was bothering him, and how long it would take for him to spill it.

She apparently wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. The atmosphere on the deck became quietly expectant. Then it seemed that Max caught it, too, because he said, carefully avoiding everybody’s eyes, “About SteelMan. I’m thinking I might have to sell him. And it’s only right to let you guys know, considering the risk you went to in stealing him back for me in the first place.”

Three gazes fixed on him, in various degrees of surprise and disapproval. Connie was the first to speak. “Sell SteelMan? Why?”

He squirmed, still not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Well, Moose is getting married, and he lent me a lot of money to buy this place. I don’t—”

“Shut up, Max.” Moose looked relieved. “Like I told you, I follow my own investment advice, and I’m good at my job. I’m fine. This place is paying for itself, just like you figured, and you can continue paying me back in installments. Don’t even think about selling SteelMan to pay me back.”

“I can’t speak for my partners in crime,” Derek said. “But I went to too much trouble to get that book back. I’d rather lend you the money than see you sell it. SteelMan is…is…well, he’s family.”

“That he is,” Connie agreed in her schoolteacher voice. “Derek and I broke the law that night.” She glanced at Moose. “With family.” She paused and looked at Max. “And for family, whether we’re related or not. Every time I think about it I still have difficulty believing we got away with everything we got away with. It’s just not right to sell that comic book. Please don’t.”

Max studied his feet inside the aged pair of brown beach shoes. “Well, okay, I guess. What can I say? Seems I’m seriously outnumbered here.” Looking up, he gave them an exaggerated shrug. “So it looks like SteelMan stays where he is. Right there in my undershorts.”

A brief, pained silence followed, during which no one looked directly at anyone else. Squinting, Derek stared at the cobblestone floor. Connie swallowed hard, pushed her tongue against her teeth, and looked at the patio doors. Moose watched the ocean, his face going through contortions. He lost it first, guffaws exploding out of him, and the newly married couple
instantly followed suit. Whoops of laughter rang across the terrace.

“What?” Max said, gaze traveling from one person to another. “What did I miss?” Then his face reddened. “Oh.” His eyes closed, and his face scrunched up. “Oh.”

Connie removed her sunglasses and wiped her streaming eyes with the back of her hand. “Oh, for crying out loud. Never have I laughed so hard, fought so hard, or been so scared, not until the day SteelMan entered my life.”

She drew in a long breath. “Talk about the good old days. Life certainly has calmed down since then.” She caught Derek’s eyes, and added with sweet mischief, “Lately, one might even say it’s become downright tame.”

“You think?” Derek leaned toward Moose. “May I have that glass of water back, please?”

Connie jumped to her feet with more haste than grace. At the sliding glass door, she
got a thought, paused and turned back. The glass had changed hands, but she thought she was out of range. “Uh, Max, you do understand you don’t have to sell the book in order to find out its value? I tried checking once, didn’t get anywhere, but it’s gotta be worth more than five thousand bucks.”

Max nodded soberly. “Yep, it is. I thank my lucky stars every day that Hayworth didn’t take me up on that ridiculous price tag I put on it. When I finally got around to looking into it, I double-checked, then triple-checked, and I still can’t believe it.”

He said nothing more. Three gazes remained on him.

“Well?” Connie asked. “Do we have to beg?”

“Max,” Moose said patiently.

Derek settled back into his chair. “Mr. Maxwell, any minute now, you’re going to get the rest of this glass of ice cubes in your lap. Now, just how much is that book worth?”

After taking a long slug of root beer, Max said mildly, “Around a hundred and eighty grand.”

Silence.

Moose broke into a slow smile. “It just keeps getting better and better. We didn’t steal a measly five thousand bucks. We stole a hundred and eighty big ones.” He made a loud smacking sound. “Damn, we’re good.”

* * *

Connie stepped inside their cottage and stood aside for Derek to enter. The key was proving difficult to pull out of the lock. He got it, pushed the door closed, and crossed the room ahead of her. Watching him, she leaned her back against the door, remembering the day she’d married this man for the second time.

Once they’d e
xited the van in the huge lot, hand in hand they’d headed for the green sedan in the next row over. Then he dropped her hand so his arm could wrap around her shoulders and he pulled her close. “It’s not legal yet,” he whispered.

Twisting her head around and up, she gave him a look that was probably quizzical.