Shooting the Moon (15 page)

“Hey, how’d it go?” Kim asked, slamming her car door and rushing up the walkway.

Lauren put on her best poker face. “Good,” she said. After the telephone conversation in which Kim had accused her of acting giddy, she hesitated to elaborate. Giddy was nothing compared to how she was feeling tonight. Tonight she felt as if she was experiencing her first crush.

“So? Tell me what happened. I passed Harley on my way in and waved at him, but I don’t think he saw me.”

If he was as shaken as she was by what had almost happened, Lauren could understand that kind of obliviousness. But a near kiss was probably nothing to a man who could have almost any woman…. “We swam earlier. He took us out for Mexican food. We came back here, threw some darts and read with Brandon. Then Bran fell asleep and Harley went home.”

“That’s it?”

Lauren held the door for Kim before heading inside. “Well, not exactly. Things heated up for a little bit when Damien stopped by earlier.”

“
Damien
stopped by? Does he think you two are back together or something?”

“I don’t know. He claims he’s trying to be my friend, but he’s being pretty aggressive in giving me advice and insisting I take it.”

“What sort of advice?”

Lauren walked into the family room, where she sank onto the soft leather sectional that arced around the big-screen television; Kim joined her. “He told me not to let Harley come around, that I’ll regret it later. He says someday I’ll thank him for his advice, but I’m not feeling much gratitude at the moment.”

“Damien loves you, Lauren.”

“Damien and I aren’t even dating anymore. He doesn’t have the right to tell me to do anything. And I resent the fact that he’s taking my father’s side.”

“Your father knows Harley’s been seeing Brandon?”

“I haven’t talked to him since yesterday morning, but I told him I thought we should allow Harley to meet his son. He probably has a good idea of what’s going on,” she said, picking up the remote and turning on the television.

“Wait a second.” Kimberly crossed the room and turned it off. “He didn’t get angry?”

“He accused me of acting like Audra,” Lauren said, putting down the remote and folding her arms.

“Oh, boy. That isn’t good. I’ve never heard him do anything but sing your praises.”

Lauren grimaced, hating the reminder that she was doing something terribly wrong by abandoning her proper role as “the good daughter.” “I’m entitled to my own opinion,” she insisted. “I don’t have to agree with my father on everything.”

“Does Damien know the two of you argued?”

“No. He just knows my father wouldn’t be happy with Harley hanging around. When he came over today, it was almost as if he thought he could win me back by stepping into my father’s shoes and becoming the voice of reason
and good judgment. He kept saying I wasn’t thinking clearly, that when I returned to my senses I’d regret what I was doing, and on and on.”

“Where was Harley when Damien was saying all this?”

“We were at the pool. I was lying on a chaise, Harley was swimming with Brandon.”

“Did Harley know what Damien was saying?”

Remembering the cannonballs, Lauren finally cracked a smile. “I think he had an inkling,” she said, then she waved Kimberly over to the couch and told her all about the engineered splashes, the confrontation that followed, how quickly Brandon seemed to be bonding with his father and the tattoo on Harley’s shoulder blade. The only part she left out was the very end, when Harley had almost kissed her. She didn’t want anyone to know about that.

“So what do you think your father’s going to do?” Kimberly asked when she’d finished. “Let you handle this thing with Harley on your own?”

Lauren shook her head. “No way.”

“Then what?”

“I haven’t heard from him, so I’m guessing there’s a reason. I’m guessing he and my mother are on their way home.”

Kimberly kneaded her forehead. “Three weeks early? I’m glad I’m not you.”

Lauren rolled her eyes, attempting to shrug it off. “It’s not like I’m going to get grounded or something. We’re all adults.”

“A family feud is a family feud. It isn’t pretty at any age,” Kimberly said.

And you don’t know the half of it,
Lauren thought.

“I
SAW HIM
,”
Harley said as soon as his mother answered the phone. He realized he’d probably awakened her—it was almost eleven o’clock at night—but Harley couldn’t make himself wait. For the first time in a long, long time, possibly since he was a kid, he really wanted to talk to her.

“Brandon?” she said.

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s…” Harley tried to explain how wonderful his son was, but found himself at a loss for words. “He’s cool,” he said.

Her usual hacking cough sounded in his ear. “Does he look like the Worthingtons?” she asked when she could speak.

Harley put one arm over his eyes and pictured his boy. Tank was already in bed, but Harley was out on the couch watching an old karate movie because he couldn’t seem to shut down for the night. He was too wound up, too excited about the past couple of days. “He looks a little like the Worthingtons. He’s got his mother’s mouth, but I’d say he looks more like me than he does Audra.”

“Did you get to talk to him?”

“I spent several hours with him last night and most of today.”

“I thought his aunt wouldn’t let you come around.”

“She changed her mind,” he said, hoping his mother
wouldn’t press for a more detailed explanation. He didn’t want to think about Lauren. Every time he did, he remembered those last few minutes on her doorstep and what he’d been feeling when he looked at her—gratitude, respect, friendship…and desire. Which was the one thing he didn’t want to feel. He was hoping it was merely a natural reaction, given the gamut of emotions he’d experienced in the past few days.

“So? Was seeing Brandon everything you thought it would be?” his mother asked.

“It was better.”

“Really?”

He heard the excitement in her voice and smiled. “Somehow my life wasn’t complete without him,” he admitted. “Now I feel…I don’t know. Good.”

“Does that mean you’re going to bring him home with you?”

“I’d like to. But I’ll have to cut through a lot of red tape first. I can’t just take him and walk away. I may have to go home for a while, then come back.”

“When are you filing for custody?”

“I just found an attorney yesterday. We’ll probably file sometime next week.”

His mother let out a triumphant laugh. “That’s my boy! After the way Quentin Worthington treated you, I can’t wait to see his face when you take Brandon away from him. He deserves a little of his own medicine, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Harley said, but he wasn’t nearly as happy about the possibility of turning the tables on Quentin Worthington as he would’ve been a week earlier. Because anything that hurt Quentin would hurt Lauren, too.

April 9, 1992

I hate Harley. Or maybe I love him. I don’t know. I’m so confused. One minute I’m throwing up, the
next I’m crying. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Mom and Dad about the baby. Lauren just won some kind of community service award, and here I am, flunking out of high school. Mrs. Merimack called the house today to tell my parents that I haven’t been in class for over a week. Fortunately, Mom and Dad were at the golf course and I erased the message. But she’ll only call back tomorrow or the next day. And then I’ve got to come up with an excuse for where I’ve been and why I’m failing—at everything.

The old grandfather clock in the hall outside Lauren’s room chimed midnight but she couldn’t stop reading. She needed something to distract her from Harley’s near-kiss and hearing about her sister’s involvement with him helped. Or was the truth that she had as much interest in getting to know Harley as she did in learning more about her sister?

April 17, 1992

Sometimes I think about getting an abortion. It would be so easy just to put an end to the worry and the sickness and the fear. But I don’t know if I could live with that decision. Harley is definitely against it. He keeps talking about what we’ll do after school gets out. He thinks we should get married. At eighteen. Wouldn’t my father just love that? Daddy would never speak to me again.

April 21, 1992

Harley and I went to the free clinic today to have an official pregnancy test. It came back positive, of course. The lady there gave me some pamphlets, one on abortion and two on adoption. But Harley tossed them all in the trash. He said he’s not like his father—that nothing’s going to happen to his baby.
Maybe I’ll just make my own arrangements without telling him.

April 22, 1992

Mom and Dad heard from Mrs. Merimack today. They were waiting for me when I came in the door. They started with the usual—what the hell is wrong with me? What am I trying to do, screw up my future? Why can’t I be more like Lauren? And something inside me just snapped. I told them. I told them about the baby. Dad looked as though I’d shot him. He went completely white, and sat down. He wouldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even yell. And then he started to cry. I’d never seen Dad cry before, and I’ve never hated anything worse. I felt filthy, horrible, more unworthy than ever before. I wanted him to yell and tell me how foolish and stupid I was. I wanted any kind of a reaction but the one I got. I told him I’d get an abortion, do anything he wanted, if he’d only love me again. He didn’t respond at first, but I could hear him and Mom talking in their room later. Then he came to see me and said I could keep the baby. He’s pulling me out of school, since I’m not going to graduate, anyway. And he told me to stay away from Harley. I didn’t need to ask him what would happen if I didn’t. I know Dad. He’s offering me one more chance. Just one.

April 28, 1992

Harley’s been calling and hanging up, again and again, but I can’t call him back. If I call him back, I’ll want to see him, and if I see him and Dad finds out…

April 29, 1992

Harley came to the door tonight. I never dreamed he would, not with everything Daddy’s already said
to him. When Dad answered the door, Harley demanded to know if I was okay, as if he thought Dad might have beaten me or something. Dad let go of all the anger I think he’s feeling toward me, and they had a huge argument. I thought it might actually come to blows, but when I told Harley to leave, that it was over between us, he backed off and stared at me for several seconds, then said, “So you’re choosing him over me.” What does he expect me to do? Live a life of poverty? What about our baby?

April 30, 1992

I’m dying to see Harley. I’ve never hurt like this before. It’s my punishment for always being so bad, I guess. What I wouldn’t give to go back in time!

May 3, 1992

I slipped out of the house last night and went to Harley’s, just after midnight. I couldn’t help myself. I’m so miserable without him. I needed him to hold me one more time, and I almost didn’t come home. He begged me to run away with him, to trust him, but I was too scared. What would we do? What kind of life would we have? I can just see myself barefoot and pregnant…

May 5, 1992

Harley isn’t calling anymore. Last time I saw him, he told me if I went home again, it was over between us for good. I want to call him, want to hear from him, but I’m so scared Dad’s going to find out. I can’t see him, anyway. It only makes things worse. The wanting fights with the fear, until it feels like my head’s about to explode. I can’t take it. I just want to check out….

May 15, 1992

Harley’s kept his word. I haven’t heard from him, but I think about him all the time and I wonder what he’s doing. I want to tell him I’m sorry, but even that seems pointless. Dad won’t even allow me to mention his name.

Lauren closed Audra’s journals, rolled over on the bed and buried her face in the pillows. What had happened between Audra and Harley was so sad. Despite the belligerence and, sometimes, the indifference of her sister’s earlier entries, Lauren now believed Audra had loved Harley. At least, as much as she was capable of loving. And judging by Harley’s repeated attempts to contact Audra after finding out about the baby, she could only believe he cared about her, too. Or maybe it was the baby he cared about, but even that did him credit, especially since Lauren had always assumed he’d been reluctant to live up to his responsibilities in that regard. The fact that he’d taken her father’s two thousand dollars made him look greedy and eager to benefit from the situation, but Lauren was beginning to believe the money had very little to do with anything.

Burrowing deeper under the covers, she pictured Harley at eighteen and tried to feel what he must have felt then. How did he get through those first few years on his own? He hadn’t had a parent willing to step in and help him. And unlike Audra, he hadn’t turned to drugs, hadn’t allowed such substances to destroy him. He might only be a motorcycle salesman, but he managed to get by, and that in itself was a marvel.

Strength. He had an inner strength Audra had lacked, and that was what pulled him through. He hadn’t grown up with many advantages, but he’d survived and now he was back.

Slowly the tightness in her chest that had come from reading her sister’s journals eased, and Lauren actually smiled into the darkness. After ten years, Harley had returned to face his past—and all the things that had been thought of him and said about him and were still, by most, believed to be true. His appearance in her life threatened her, because so much of her happiness depended on Brandon, and yet Harley’s courage and determination evoked an unexpected sense of pride.

I’m just tired. I don’t admire him. I don’t want to kiss him.
But when she finally drifted off to sleep, she dreamed of kissing Harley and more—and then she was pregnant and carrying his child, feeling it kick inside her womb, and strangely enough she was excited about it.

“A
UNT
L
AUREN
!”

Lauren awoke with a start and immediately put a hand to her belly, expecting to find it round and extended. Instead she felt the soft, flat surface beneath her ribs and exhaled in relief. She wasn’t pregnant. Mercifully, she’d been spared having to tell her family that the man who’d gotten Audra pregnant ten years ago had returned and done her the same favor. If she felt a trace of disappointment, too, she wasn’t willing to think about it.

“Aunt Lauren,” Brandon persisted. He was holding the cordless telephone in one hand while shaking her arm with the other. “My dad’s on the phone. He wants to know if we can go on a picnic with him today.”

Oh, boy. Yesterday it was swimming and dinner. Today it was a picnic. Quentin wasn’t going to be pleased that she and Brandon had become so friendly with the enemy. She’d feared that letting Harley see Brandon would spiral out of control, but she’d never thought it would gather momentum quite so swiftly. Or lead to such vivid and very personal dreams…

“You just saw him last night,” she said, stalling because she thought maybe she should slow down the relationship now, while she still could. But Brandon looked so eager and excited, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him no. “What about your karate lesson?” she asked, covering a yawn.

“Can’t I miss it, just this once?” he asked.

Lauren struggled into a sitting position, already regretting that she’d stayed up so late…and afraid that when her parents returned, she’d be suffering even worse regrets. But she was in too far to back out now. “I have a better idea. I’ll take you to a morning class, and we’ll meet your father afterward. Okay?”

Brandon put on his begging face. “But I want to see him
now.
I don’t want to go to karate. What’s one time? I go every week.”

“Exactly. That’s how you learn and improve.”

“Aunt Lauren, I can’t wait to see my dad.”

“Brandon…”

The warning in Lauren’s voice was enough to make him back off. “Okay,” he grumbled. “He’s on the phone. You want to talk to him?”

As Lauren accepted the handset, she rubbed her stomach again, just to be sure. No baby. She hadn’t even kissed Harley. She’d only
wanted
to kiss him. And dreamed about kissing him. And still felt a certain flutter in her chest at the mere thought of kissing him…

Those were thoughts that would only lead her into trouble, she reminded herself and tried to say hello, but her voice caught and she had to clear her throat instead.

“Lauren?”

For some reason, hearing Harley on the other end of the line made her clutch the telephone closer to her ear. “Brandon says you want to have a picnic today.”

“I thought we could go to the park and barbecue some
chicken, maybe throw a football around or get a volleyball game going.” He sounded almost as eager as Brandon. “What do you think?”

“Volleyball takes more than three people,” she pointed out.

“Tank has his little girl today. He’s divorced and only gets her on weekends. She just turned four, so she’s pretty little, but I thought they could join us. Maybe your friend Kimberly would like to come, too.”

A group activity? What a brilliant idea. There was safety in numbers. Surely she’d forget all about kissing Harley if Kimberly was along to remind her that he was the one man she could
never
kiss. “Sure. I’ll check with her. What time?”

“Noon?”

“Noon’s good.”

There was a brief hesitation, then, “I heard you say something to Brandon about karate lessons.”

“Brandon takes karate. He’s a blue belt. We usually go in the afternoon, but they have a few morning sessions, too, so we’ll go early today and get it over with.”