Somebody's Ex (12 page)

It made perfect sense actually.

“But the more he did that, the more
I forgot. I just sort of got so worried about forgetting things, and I’d end up
having so much stuff running around in my brain that I’d forget something. Not
everything, but something. Then he’d stop talking to me for a while.”

He gathered her close. “Jesus.” A
fervent, anguished whisper on her behalf. “That’s so fucked up.”

She laughed, a soft, achy sound
that hurt her throat. Even more fucked up was that Mick, her husband of three
years, had never even asked her about those silent times. Not once.

“You can’t let this go on, Randi.
You just can’t.”

She sighed. “Oh, it’s okay, I’m
used to it.” Her dad’s silences were easier to handle than Mick’s digs and
cuts.

“I’ll go with you to talk to him.”

“The offer’s really sweet, but it
won’t do any good. He won’t listen when he’s not talking.” And she just wanted
to forget the whole embarrassing incident.

He tipped her head with his thumb
beneath her chin. “Randi, look at me.”

She hadn’t even realized she’d
closed her eyes.

“It isn’t about him listening. It’s
about you having the gumption to tell him it’s not right.”

Gumption? Just what was he saying
here? “David, you just don’t understand.”

“I do understand. Perfectly. You
need to confront him.”

She had gumption. Lots of it. By
God, she’d show him, too. “I’m not doing it.”

“I said I’d go with you,” he
coaxed.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you afraid of him? Has he ever
hit you?”

“No.” She snorted.

“Then why won’t you do it?”

“Why is it so important to you?”

“Because I think it’s important for
you
.”

He had very pretty eyelashes, long
and tipped with gold. She hadn’t noticed that before. He’d made love to her
with sweet insistence. He’d taken her to orgasm with unrelenting gentleness.
But he wasn’t satisfied with who she was, what she was. “What if I refuse to
talk to him?”

He grinned, but serious intent set
his jaw. “I’ll keep at you until you do.”

She wasn’t perfect, far from it. As
Mick always said, some of her brains had leaked out her ears. She lived in a
musty dump amidst someone else’s castoffs. But she was a good person, and she
had a lot of love to give to a man who could see beyond the exterior. A man who
could see that she was special without making her prove it all the time. A man
who would want her just the way she was, faults and all. A man who would love
her at least as much as Royal did.

“David, I am never going to have it
out with my dad. I am never going to tell him he can’t say the kinds of things
he said today. I have reached stasis, and I am not going to change.”

“Randi, honey—”

She put her hand over his lips.
“Take it, or leave it.”

“But Randi—”

“No buts.” It was a challenge, a
test. Pass or fail.

“Randi, don’t you see that—”

Fail. She pressed harder to shut
him up. She was tired of men who didn’t love her the way she was. Her dad had
tried to change her by the simple act of not speaking to her. Mick had tried to
change her by harping cruelly on her every fault.

And David? He wouldn’t give up.
He’d coax, cajole, make love to her, always gentle, always with the best
intention, but he wouldn’t give up until she talked to Pops. Eventually, just
like Mick and Pops, he’d find a way to punish her for not doing what he wanted.
For not being what he wanted her to be.

Living with a dog was easier. Royal
loved her without expecting a thing in return, loved her when she scolded, when
she dumped a can of tomato juice over her head. Royal would love her even if
she forgot to feed her.

Men didn’t have the capacity for
that kind of unconditional love. Though she hadn’t learned the lesson in three
years with Mick, it took less than three days with David to finally get it
through her thick head.

“I think you better leave.”

She moved so quickly, he didn’t
have a chance to get his arms around her. “Sweetheart.”

See, there he went trying to cajole
with endearments. He’d withdraw them when she displeased him one too many
times.

“I’d like to be alone.”

He stared at her a long moment, his
head tipped just like Royal when she couldn’t figure out which hand held the
biscuit.

“All right.” He rolled to the other
side of the bed, then glanced over his shoulder. “We’ll talk when you’re not
upset.”

Just like a man.
We’ll talk
about it when you’re more reasonable.
She would
never
be more
reasonable than she was in this moment. And righteously angry, too.

“Your clothes are in the bathroom.”
As she pointed, she steeled herself against the pure beauty of his naked body.

She would not be swayed. He wanted
her to stand up for herself, and she would. She would no longer accept crumbs,
not his, not any man’s. Never again.

And oddly, miraculously, she
suddenly remembered why her father had stopped speaking to her when she was
thirteen.

It wasn’t as simple as forgetting
to wash the car. It had been about a boy. A boy she’d tried to please. Her
father, with that uncanny sense parents sometimes have, came home from the shop
early and caught the boy with his hand up her shirt.

He’d called her a harlot then, too.

No one was ever going to make her
feel bad for just being herself. Not ever again.

* * * * *

That was, by far, the weirdest
argument he’d ever had with a woman. Halfway to Mitch’s house for that talk his
father had asked him to have with his brother, David still wasn’t sure what
he’d done wrong.

She needed a little time, then
she’d see he was trying to help. A couple of days, and she’d forget all about
the tiff.

Jesus. That sounded too close to
Randi talking about her father.

* * * * *

Randi slammed through the house,
the front door, her bedroom door, the bathroom door, then slapping her hand
against the shower taps. What she needed was a hot shower, the needlelike spray
pounding against her head and back. She needed to vent this feeling. She didn’t
like being angry. For a moment there in the bedroom, it had felt cleansing.
Now, it was just a roiling mass in her belly she needed to get rid of it.

She washed off David’s scent,
washed off the caviar, his tongue, his kiss, his touch. At least she tried as
the hot water ran to cold, but when she closed her eyes, she could feel him
filling her, taste his kiss still on her lips.

Even the towel she dried her hair
with smelled like him.

Ha! It had taken less than half an
hour to lose all that wonderful power she’d felt. The dregs of it lashed around
her heart like tentacles and squeezed.

Royal whined outside the bathroom
door.

She’d forgotten poor Royal. The dog
hated being shut out. Steam and warmth rushed out as she opened the door. Royal
lay in the hallway, her head on her paws, sad brown eyes staring.

“I’m sorry, baby, wanna come in?”

Royal blinked, snuffled, and let
out a huge doggie sigh. But she didn’t move. She’d probably miss the damn man
after only having known him only a couple of days.

“He’s gone, sweetie-pie, never to
return.”

Again, the dog blinked, then
regarded her with...reproach?

“It wasn’t my fault.”

Royal’s ear twitched.

“You don’t get it. See, he didn’t
accept me the way I am. He wanted me to change. I can’t change.” She shut her
mouth. “What I mean is, I shouldn’t need to change.” Her father should be the
one to change, if anything.

Was that a sneer creasing the dog’s
mouth?

“This is complicated human stuff,
you wouldn’t understand.”

Royal sighed. That dog made sighing
an art form.

“He just doesn’t get what my
relationship with my dad is like. I can’t explain it to him.”

Her relationship
was
crazy.
But it had always been that way. How was she supposed to change it? In a few
days everything would blow over. All right, it might be a year. Or more.

“Pops just thinks I’m still
thirteen. What am I supposed to do about that? I can’t get him to listen. I’ve
never been able to. It’s simply the way things are.”

Royal just stared at her. Then
finally, she closed her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to look anymore. As if she
hadn’t another doggie sigh to give. Or another word to say. Just the way
Randi’s father ignored her. Even the dog made her feel like she was still
thirteen.

Randi’s legs gave out and she sat
heavily on the toilet seat. She’d acted like she was thirteen today, letting
her father call her a harlot. Again.

That’s what David had seen and
heard. And deep down in her most honest of hearts, she had to admit her anger
hadn’t been about him accepting her as she was. It hadn’t even been about
getting her father to change. It was fear, plain and simple. The fear of a
thirteen-year-old to confront her father. It had been so much easier to get
angry with David than to even contemplate approaching her dad.

Just how long was she going to be
stuck at that tender age?

No matter what had happened with
David, no matter how he felt about her, there would always be her father.
Whether he spoke to her or not, he’d always be a specter in her life. The
question was, when would she stop letting him treat her as if she were
thirteen? When would she stop accepting that kind of behavior as if it was all
she was worth?

Randi knew what she had to do.

Mitch took a long swig of his beer,
then set it back on the table. “This outing was Dad’s idea, wasn’t it?”

Thursday night wasn’t particularly
busy at Hennessey’s Tavern. Someone had started a country ballad playing on the
jukebox, and the hum of voices was low compared to the ruckus that was raised
on a Friday or Saturday night.

David set down his own beer. “He
seemed to think there was something wrong.”

“Well, you can tell him I’m fine,
Connie’s fine, and the kids are fine. We’re all fine.” The tension riding his
younger brother’s shoulders told a different story.

“Good. Glad to hear it.” David
realized he’d have to draw Mitch out. His brother had not been happy to see him
standing on the doorstep, nor had he seemed particularly interested in hanging
out at Hennessey’s. It was Connie, his wife, who’d practically shoved him out
the door to join David. There had definitely been some strain back there in the
house.

They used to talk, an easy,
boots-on-table camaraderie. David remembered times his brother had sought him
out, even over Lou’s more sage brand of advice. Those days were long gone.

Another ill Lou’s death had
wreaked.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were
quitting, David?”

The purpose of the outing was to
discuss Mitch’s issues, whatever they might be, not his own crap. “I made the
decision on the spur of the moment.”

“That’s not what you told Dad. We
work together, David. We’re partners. You should have told me yourself two days
ago.”

David twirled his beer mug in the
moist ring it left on the table. “You’re right. So you’ll be the first to know
I’ve changed my mind. After thinking about it, I realize I made a mistake.”

Now
that
was a spur of the
moment decision, but David knew in his gut it was the right decision this time.
He’d been running on screwed-up thinking for weeks, but everything that had
happened tonight had shown him he’d been heading in the wrong direction in
order to solve his problem.

Mitch just looked at him. “I don’t
get you, David. Ever since this thing with Jace and Taylor, you’ve been a
freak.”

David almost laughed. Maybe that’s
what he’d needed to hear weeks ago. Trust a brother to tell it like it is.

“I needed to get used to the idea.”
But was he the only one that had an issue with Jace hitting on his older
brother’s widow? “Didn’t you need a little time to assimilate it?”

Mitch shrugged and, in the same
manner as David, twirled his beer in the wet rings it sat in. “Lou’s dead.”

“I know he’s dead.” But somehow,
there was something just plain wrong about someone taking Lou’s place, even if
it was Jace. Especially if it was Jace.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Christ. “You know, dad said the
same thing. Where the hell are you guys getting the idea that I’ve got some
sort of romantic feeling for Taylor?”

“It’s not about Taylor. It’s the
way you think you have to act like Lou. You’re jealous things got done without
you.”

“Since when have I acted like Lou?”
He wasn’t getting pissed. Not really. He just didn’t get it.

“Here’s what you need to do.”
Mitch’s voice deepened in a very good imitation of their older brother’s tones.
“That’s what he would have said. And you’ve started saying it, too.”

“I’ve only ever offered brotherly
advice.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. Lou
and his advice. But he didn’t give advice. He issued edicts. You didn’t used to
pull that kind of shit, David.”

David threw his hands apart,
another flicker of anger stealing over him. “Have I told you what to do
tonight? Have I even insisted you tell me whatever the hell is going on with
you that’s got Dad so worked up?”

“Listen to yourself. Dad’s a silent
worrier. Mom’s a vocal worrier. It didn’t used to bother you. Now, it’s all
about the solution. Jace shouldn’t be doing Taylor so big brother David has to
step in and put a stop to it. Who the hell are you to decide?”

“I’m your goddamn older brother.”

“Yeah, you’re my brother. But I
don’t need you to tell me what to do. I didn’t need Lou to tell me either. Why
do you think I used to come to you? Because you
listened
. And somehow I
figured out my own answers. But now Lou’s dead, and I don’t need to hear his
voice out of your mouth.”