Shooting the Moon (23 page)

Getting up, she opened her largest suitcase, dug through the clothing, shoes, photographs and other things she’d brought, and came up with the whole stack. She piled them on her bed, then settled against the headboard and opened the volume she’d been reading last.

November 16, 1992

My baby was born four days ago—a boy weighing 7 lbs. 8 oz. What an awesome experience. I thought the pain would overshadow everything else, but once I held my baby in my arms and saw his little red face and touched the peach-fuzz on his head, I knew the whole pregnancy was worth it. Even without Harley. I’m going to name him Brandon Matthew Worthington. Dad thinks I got “Matthew” from one of
those “Name Your Baby” books. But I think Lauren knows it’s Harley’s real name. Anyway, she hasn’t said anything about it, and I’m glad. The name suits Harley’s son.

January 3, 1992

Raising a baby isn’t easy. Brandon wakes up so many times during the night. If I’m anywhere near him, I can’t sleep for more than a couple of hours. Fortunately, Lauren takes him into her room a lot and gives him a bottle when he wakes up. Mom and Dad don’t like him getting formula while I’m nursing, but I need the break. Somehow Lauren seems to understand. I should probably tell her I don’t know what I’d do without her. But we don’t talk like that.

March 1, 1992

Brandon is still waking up in the night, but I’m not nursing anymore. Lauren gets up with him almost all the time now. I don’t know how she does it and goes to school, too. But I can’t seem to manage any more than what I’m doing. I can’t seem to keep anything together.

March 15, 1992

I met someone who reminds me of Harley. He’s tall and handsome and rides a motorcycle. Only he’s not as self-righteous as Harley about getting high once in a while. He gave me something that dulled the pain and let me float away. When I’m floating I don’t hear Brandon crying, and I don’t care that I’m letting Lauren do the things I should be doing.

Lauren wasn’t sure the journals were helping her frame of mind. She’d done everything she could to share the burden of caring for Brandon, trying to help Audra cope
with the demands of motherhood. But maybe she’d been wrong to step in. Maybe she’d actually stolen something from Audra, something she’d had no right to take….

Closing the book, Lauren shook her head. She didn’t want to learn any more about her sister’s thoughts because of what they reflected about
her.
She’d loved Audra. She’d meant well.

Gathering the journals, she tried to get up to pack them away. But one slipped out of her arms and fell to the floor, and when she bent to pick it up, she saw her name again. The entry was dated less than a year before Audra’s death—her sister’s last Christmas.

December 25, 2000

Dad and Mom gave me a new car for Christmas. At least it’s mine if I can stay clean, Dad said. Lauren gave me a pair of pearl earrings, and she gave Brandon exactly what he wanted. I don’t even know what it was. Some kind of Nintendo game or something. I can’t seem to get through the day, yet Lauren hears everything Brandon says and remembers. And she makes him happy. That’s the real gift, isn’t it? I could never thank her enough for loving my son and for being the mother to him I should have been. But then, she’s never been like me. She’s always been special.

“Oh, Audra.” Burying her face in her hands, Lauren cried like she hadn’t cried since she was a child. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “How I wish things could have been different. But I’ll keep taking care of Brandon for you. I’ll keep trying to make him happy. I promise.” Then she thought about Harley, and the fight she had on her hands to ensure that Brandon could have a relationship with his father and knew, regardless of how Harley or her father felt about her, she’d stay the course.

She’d do it for Audra.

H
E HAD TO BE
an idiot. He’d already made the decision not to come, yet here he was, standing in the hall outside Lauren’s room less than eight hours after he’d dropped her off. Worse, it was the middle of the night. He’d driven nearly to Mount Shasta before turning around.

Harley glanced up and down the long, empty corridor, trying to talk himself out of knocking. The thought of Brandon had brought him back to Portland. He’d promised his son he’d give him some warning before heading back to California, which he hadn’t done. But it was the thought of Lauren that had brought him here, to her hotel room at two o’clock in the morning.

“She’s asleep,” he muttered, and began to retrace his steps. But his feet dragged as he neared the elevators, and he turned back. “What the hell. Life is a series of risks.”

He rapped lightly on her door and waited. No answer. He knocked more loudly, and this time he heard her say, “Coming.” But her voice sounded muffled. She had been asleep. He shouldn’t have disturbed her. He was starting to feel pretty foolish for appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the night when he heard her again.

“Who is it?”

Silently cursing himself, he cleared his throat. “It’s me. Harley.”

The click of a retracting dead bolt broke the silence, the door opened and he no longer felt foolish. He felt hopelessly in love.

“Harley,” she breathed, but it wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And somehow that seemed to say it all because a moment later, she was in his arms, and he was kissing her as though he’d die if he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he murmured against her lips.

“I’m not,” she said.

The door across the hall opened and a man with a Bart Simpson haircut peered out at them. Harley ignored the intrusion but swept Lauren into his arms and carried her inside, away from the man’s prying eyes, pausing only long enough to close the door with his foot.

I
T WAS MORNING
. Reluctant to let the night end, Lauren snuggled closer to Harley, who was sleeping with his legs tucked up under her bottom and one arm curled possessively around her. She didn’t want to move for fear of waking him, but she had a cramp in her leg and she wanted to be able to see his face. Easing herself out of his arms, she turned—and found him staring at her.

“Good morning,” he said.

Lauren tried not to blush, but she felt warmth rise from her neck all the same. She knew he’d noticed when he chuckled and said, “You’re so innocent and vulnerable and sweet.”

She waited, hoping he’d add that he loved her. He’d said it during the night. More than once. Each time he made love to her, in fact. But the first time had been the most meaningful. He’d whispered it when he’d entered her as slowly and gently as possible, and Lauren knew she’d go to her grave treasuring that moment, along with the ones that came just after, when they were fully joined. But she wanted to hear him say it again, wanted to see his face more clearly this time, wanted to be sure he loved her forever and not just for one night.

“You were so…” She paused.
Good
sounded tacky, and gave what she was trying to communicate the wrong
slant. She didn’t want to say “good,” but she wanted to let him know that she appreciated the consideration he’d given her. He’d been so careful of her ankle, so…“…perfect,” she finished.

He grinned. “You weren’t bad yourself, for something of a novice,” he added teasingly. “How’d your ankle survive?”

“It’s fine. It’s starting to get better, I think,” Lauren said, but she couldn’t help wondering if her heart was going to be hurting next.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Lauren raised her brows in surprise. “Nothing, really. Why?”

“I thought I saw a flicker of a frown cross your face.”

She shook her head. “No frown.”

“Good, because I like your smile. It’s a seductress’s smile, and you don’t even know it.”

Leaning forward, she kissed him softly on the lips. His hands trailed up her bare back and he pulled her tightly against him, and she felt her breath shorten as he deepened the kiss and—

Her cell phone rang. She wanted to ignore it, but she was afraid it was Brandon or Kimberly. If it was Brandon, she wanted to be available to him. If it was Kimberly, she had to answer or her best friend would probably stop over. Which was worse than being interrupted by a quick phone call.

“Hold that thought,” she said and reached over to the nightstand to retrieve her phone. The light in the room was too dim to read the caller ID, so she simply pushed the talk button.

“Hello?”

“There you are. Don’t you ever check your messages anymore? I’ve left you at least five.”

Damien. “
This
is a frown,” she muttered to Harley, covering the phone as she demonstrated.

“What did you say?” Damien asked.

“Nothing,” she replied, drawing the sheet to her chest, “but I’m pretty busy right now. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I just heard you moved out. I’ve been worried about you, wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“That’s really nice of you, but I’m okay.” She grinned at Harley. “Better than okay.”

“Who is it?” Harley asked.

“Damien,” she mouthed.

“You could always stay at my condo,” Damien was saying. “You know I’ve got plenty of room.”

“No, thanks. I’m fine right here.”

“In a hotel? There’s no need to spend the—”

“Tell him you have to go,” Harley said, kissing her arm all the way up to her neck.

“Who’s that?” Damien asked.

“Umm…” Lauren stifled a giggle despite the fact that Harley’s lips were sending goose bumps down her spine. “Umm…it’s Harley,” she finally admitted.

“Harley!” Damien cried. “So it’s true what he told me?”

“I don’t know. What did he tell you?”

Suddenly Harley rolled onto his elbows. “Hang up,” he whispered, trying to take the phone away from her.

“No, wait.” She held the phone higher. “What did Harley tell you, Damien?”

“That bastard said you were in love with him.”

Lauren blinked in surprise and Harley finally stopped trying to take the phone. With a groan, he buried his face in the pillow.

“Is it true?” Damien demanded.

She hadn’t told Harley she loved him during the night because she’d assumed her actions had already revealed as much—and she was afraid she wouldn’t measure up to Audra. As far as guys went, she’d never measured up to
Audra, and Harley would know that better than anyone. But Damien had put the question to her, and she wanted to answer.

She took a deep breath, gathering her nerve, and Harley finally lifted his head to look at her.

“Do you?” he whispered. “Do you love me?”

She put her palm against his whisker-roughened cheek. “I do,” she said, and for Damien’s benefit, “I love him.”

“Does that mean you’ll marry me?” Harley asked.

“Lauren, no! Don’t do this,” Damien shouted in the background. “Your father’ll never talk to you again. How can you turn your back on everything you’ve ever known? On your family? How can you give yourself to a man like him?”

“I’m sorry, Damien,” she said, “but he’s the only man I’ve ever wanted.” Then Harley hung up the phone and kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead before tucking her head beneath his chin and pulling her close.

“You won’t change your mind when you have to tell your father, will you?” he asked.

“I
THINK MAYBE
we should talk about my finances before we visit your parents today,” Harley said, leaning against the bathroom door while Lauren was getting ready. Except for the time they’d taken to attend his hearing, they’d spent two full days together at the hotel.

Lauren had realized this was coming. At some point she and Harley had to figure out how they were going to survive and provide for Brandon. She understood that motorcycle salesmen didn’t make a lot of money. She wasn’t expecting the kind of life she’d lived in the past. And she was perfectly willing to go to work. But now was not the time to discuss any of this. She could make her feelings clear to Harley later, when she was relaxed and could concentrate on protecting the infamous male ego. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?” she asked.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I just don’t want to deal with it right now. Money doesn’t really matter. The only thing that matters is the fact that I’d marry you if you had millions—” she turned away from the mirror for a quick kiss “—and I’d marry you if you were penniless.”

He rested a hand on his hip. “But things might not be as bad as you think.”

“I’m sure they’re not. We’ll manage somehow,” she said. “But right now, my cell phone’s ringing. Any chance you’d be willing to grab it off the nightstand for me?”

He grinned. “Just don’t get mad at me later.”

“For what?” she said, but he was already gone, and after a moment, she heard him on her phone.

“She just got out of the shower. Hang on a minute.”

“It’s Kimberly,” he said, reappearing in the doorway. “And because I doubt your parents will have the same forgiving views of my finances, I’ve got to go out for a little while.”

“For what?” she asked.

“You don’t want to talk about it, remember? I’ll pick you up in an hour or so, okay?”

She nodded and he dropped a kiss on her forehead on his way out.

“Hi, Kim,” she said, returning to the application of her mascara.

“You didn’t call me yesterday. How did Harley’s hearing go?”

“You’re spending so much time with Tank, I thought
he’d
tell you.”

“I’m spending time with Tank, but Harley isn’t. Not since he started staying with you.”

Lauren smiled to herself. The past two days had been the best of her life. “The hearing went well,” she said. “No jail time, just an eight-hundred-dollar fine.”

“Ouch, but I guess it could’ve been worse.”

“Harley’s just glad it’s over, I think.”

“How’s your ankle?”

“Almost as good as new. I can walk on it now.”

“Great. Want to go to lunch later?”

Finished with her mascara, Lauren dropped the tube in her cosmetics bag and rummaged for her blush. “You’re not seeing Tank?”

“He can’t get away from the job site today, so he’s coming over after work instead.”

“I’d love to do lunch,” Lauren said. “Only I’m seeing my parents this morning. I don’t know where things will go from there. I might not feel up to socializing, you know?”

“Uh-oh. Is Harley going with you?”

“After all the things my father did to him, I’d actually prefer to go alone. But Harley insists that he’s going with me. He says he wants to be there, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case I need protecting, I guess.”

“That’s so sweet,” Kimberly said. “I know we were worried about Harley at first, but I think you’ve got a good guy.”

Lauren imagined her upcoming marriage.
Lauren Marie Nelson…Mrs. Matthew Nelson…
She’d wake up in bed with Harley every morning for the rest of her life. “I know I do,” she said.

“Good luck with your parents.”

“Thanks. I’m afraid I’m going to need it.”

H
ERE WE GO
,
Lauren thought as she knocked at the door of her parents’ house. She’d postponed delivering the news of her upcoming marriage until Brandon was back in school, so he wouldn’t be around to hear what her parents might say. But the idea of facing Quentin and Marilee hadn’t gotten any easier with the passing of time.

Harley stood silently at her side, more withdrawn than she’d ever seen him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Are you?” he replied, but there was no opportunity to answer because her mother opened the door.

“Lauren!” Marilee moved toward Lauren, apparently intending to hug her, but then her eyes darted to Harley, and she stepped back, pressing a hand to her chest instead. “What are you doing here?” she said. “Your father’s home, you know,” she added to Lauren.

“We were hoping he would be,” Lauren said. “We want to talk to you both. May we come in?”

Her mother hesitated and glanced over her shoulder as though she couldn’t make the decision on her own. But then she nodded. “Okay.”

Harley held the door for Lauren before following her into the living room, where her mother motioned them to the tapestry-covered chairs near the window. “Please, have a seat,” she said, as formally as if they were new acquaintances.

Lauren tried not to let it bother her. She told herself she could withstand the pain even if her parents disowned her, but deep down, she wasn’t so sure.
Please, let this go smoothly, help them understand…

“I’ll get Quentin,” Marilee said, but Lauren’s father was already coming down the hall.

“Who was at the door?” he asked. Then he saw Lauren and Harley, and stopped, his eyes narrowing.

“I thought I told you never to come back here,” he said to Lauren.

Lauren stood, as did Harley, and swallowed to ease the sudden dryness of her throat. “I know you’re unhappy with me,” she began. “But—”

“
Unhappy
with you? Do you think you’re going to make me any happier by bringing this man into my house again?”

“I just came to tell you something. I…I—”

“You’re not pregnant,” her mother said.

“No.” Lauren looked over at Harley for strength. “I’m not pregnant. At least not yet. We’d like to have a baby fairly soon, though.”

Marilee swayed and grasped the back of a chair for support, but her father showed no outward sign of surprise. “You want a baby with
him?
” he said in obvious disgust.

Lauren nodded. “Harley and I are getting married this weekend. In Vegas. And we want Brandon to live with us in California.”

“Have you lost your mind?” her father yelled. “What does Harley have to offer you? Or Brandon? He’s a motorcycle salesman, for Pete’s sake. Do you want to spend the rest of your life working to support him?”