The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) (21 page)

“There’s something,” she said lightly. “Tell me.”

He leaned back in the crappy chair. “This client, Mrs. Turner. She’s older. Rich. When I first worked with her, everything was fine, but lately she’s always calling and complaining about her car.”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, that’s the thing. It’s working perfectly. We’ve checked it out a dozen times. She’s hearing noises or says it hesitates when she presses on the accelerator. No matter what I do, it’s not enough.”

“Do you know why things have changed with her?”

“Her husband died,” he admitted. “He’d been sick for a while, so I’d been dealing with her since taking the job.” He shook his head. “I know what you’re going to say. That this is because he’s gone, but she knew it was going to happen. Besides, she barely knows me. Why isn’t she torturing her kids?”

“She probably is. Or maybe she can’t. You’re a safe target. She’s scared, Rob.”

“Of what? She’s loaded. Trust me, she’ll be well taken care of for the rest of her life.”

Hayley thought about her empty days. How she would stand in the middle of what was supposed to be the nursery and wait for the tears. Only there weren’t any. She could cry in any number of places, but not in the baby’s room. Maybe the space was too sacred for her foolish tears—she wasn’t sure.

“Just because you know something’s going to happen doesn’t make it any easier to deal with,” she murmured. “Before, she was his wife and now she’s not. She’s a widow. If he was sick, her days were probably filled with taking care of him. Even if they had help. Now she has nothing. No one’s depending on her. It’s hard to feel useless.”

He turned to her. “You’re not useless.”

“I feel that way.”

“Because you can’t have a baby?”

A blunt question, she thought, surprised he would risk going there. “Sometimes. I wasted all that time and money and we have nothing to show for it.”

Tears burned, but she blinked them away.

He moved quickly, putting his glass on the small table between them, then kneeling in front of her on the grass.

“Hayley, no.” He rested his forearms on either side of her thighs and stared up into her eyes. “There’s no waste. We tried. We did everything we could and it didn’t work out for us. We’ll figure out another way. Don’t give up.”

“We’re not going to have a baby, Rob. We are never going to hold our child in our arms. Do you know what that means to me? How much it hurts every second of every day?”

“No. I have no idea.” He took her hands in his. “Did I want kids? Sure. But they were always an idea. You’re here and real and I’m sorry about what happened, but I’m grateful every second of every day that you’re alive and we’re together.”

He squeezed her fingers. “I’d rather have you than a baby, Hayley. I love you. I want us to get through this.”

“I don’t know if we can. You left me.”

“I know.”

She pulled her hands free of his. “That’s it? You’re not going to apologize.”

She thought he might get up and walk away, but he stayed where he was.

“No, I’m not. Maybe I was wrong to leave, but you were wrong, too. You were making decisions without talking to me. You lied about wanting to fix up the house.”

She started to protest, but he held up his hand. “Not that you wanted to, but why you did. You knew what I was thinking and you let me. You tricked me, Hayley.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “I’m not so blinded by love that I can’t see your flaws.”

“Too bad.”

“We’ll both survive.” He bumped her thigh with his elbow until she met his gaze again. “I’m sorry I left. I had no idea how to deal with what you were doing. I didn’t want you to die and I felt you were beyond reason.”

“I was.” The confession came out as a whisper.

“But you weren’t wrong?”

His voice was so gentle. She knew what he wanted—her to admit she’d gone too far. This wasn’t about blame—it was about taking responsibility. He wanted to know that he could trust her in the future.

“Don’t worry,” she said bluntly. “I can’t do anything crazy anymore. I can’t have kids. That’s over.”

“Giving birth to a baby is over,” he corrected. “The having kids thing is still a possibility.”

“I don’t want to adopt.”

“I know. But there are other options.”

She wished that were true. It wasn’t, but Rob had always been an optimist. It was one of the things she liked most about him.

He rested his head on her lap. “I love you, Hayley.”

The words hung out there. Not accusing, exactly, but expecting. She settled her hand on his head. Her fingers brushed his cheek. She felt the warmth of his skin and the prickliness of his stubble. Somewhere deep inside, the wall around her heart cracked just a little. Pain bled out, then faded.

There was so much more to deal with. Aches enough for five lifetimes. But maybe she was supposed to see the rainbow in the rain, she thought as she closed her eyes and whispered, “I love you, too.”

Chapter Twenty

Gabby stirred the chili. She’d made a double batch so she could freeze the other half for a future dinner. Once she started work, she had a feeling she was going to be scrambling. While she was only going to be working part-time, getting back into the groove was going to take some time.

She had the salad made and rather than bake corn bread, she’d bought it at the grocery store. It was still August—no way she was turning on the oven, except in case of a cookie or brownie emergency.

She glanced at the clock on the stove and wondered when Andrew would be home. When he was in town, he usually called or texted her a few times a day. Since their big fight over the weekend, that hadn’t been happening. She wanted to tell him to stop being so immature, but she wasn’t exactly reaching out, either. At some point one of them was going to have to call for a truce. She figured it would probably be her, but not just yet. While her head told her that their marriage was more important than the fight, her heart told her not to surrender her hard-won ground.

A sharp scream cut through the quiet of the house. Gabby froze for a heartbeat, then turned off the burner and ran to the stairs. The twins were up in their room, playing dress-up and Makayla was in hers doing whatever it was she did before dinner. Probably texting with friends. No one should be in a position to—

The scream came again. Gabby’s heart raced as much from fear as her speed. She hurried down the hallway and found the twins standing together, looking anxious. Kenzie pointed to Makayla’s door. Gabby shoved it open and stepped into the teen’s room.

Makayla stood by her bed holding her phone in her hand. Tears flowed down her cheeks. When she saw Gabby, the tears turned to sobs and she ran to her.

Gabby instinctively held out her arms. “What happened? Are you hurt? Are you bleeding?”

Makayla shook her head and burrowed into Gabby’s embrace. Her thin body shook as she cried as if broken in two. The twins came in and hurried over to hug Gabby. She knew it was only a matter of seconds until they, too, were in tears.

Gabby pulled free of the teen and led her to the bed. She had her sit, then settled beside her. She motioned for the twins to come next to her, where she put her arm around them.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Makayla sucked in air, then started to cry again. “B-Boyd,” she stuttered. “He’s gone.”

“What? Gone where?”

“Away. He’s gone.”

She held out her phone. Gabby took it and read the bluntly worded texts. Boyd had relocated to a prep school back East. He didn’t know when he would be returning to California, so they should probably break up. He ended the text with a casual
hope you have a good summer.

Asshole, Gabby thought grimly as she handed back the phone.

“You didn’t know?” she asked before she could stop herself, then used her free arm to hug the teen. “Sorry. Of course you didn’t. Do you know when he left?”

“N-no.” Makayla wiped away tears even as new ones appeared. “He said he and his parents were visiting his grandmother, but he was only supposed to be gone four days. The last time I saw him, he didn’t say
anything
. He said he l-loved me and would be back soon.”

So he was a weasel and a coward. Gabby wished the kid was right there, so she could slap what she assumed was his smug face. She got that the decision to move hadn’t been his, but he could have told Makayla to her face.

“I probably have an email from his mother,” Gabby said.

Makayla turned to her. “Could you check?”

Because she was desperate for information. Boyd had been the girl’s first love. She’d assumed they would be together always. Now she was pregnant and alone. Talk about a nightmare.

Gabby nodded and rose. The twins came with her as she returned to the kitchen. Her laptop was on the small built-in desk she used. There were only a handful of emails waiting and one of them was from Lisa.

It was short and to the point. Boyd’s parents had decided it was best for him to be in a different environment, so they’d sent him to school out of state. They requested that Makayla not try to get in touch with him, that Boyd didn’t want anything to do with her or the baby. Paperwork would follow, releasing him of all rights to the child. In return, no support would be requested or expected. Blah, blah, blah. Have a nice day.

Gabby stared at the last sentence. “Have a nice day? What a complete and total—”

Aware of the twins standing right next to her, she pressed her lips together, but thought plenty of words. None of them were bad enough to describe Boyd’s mother, but it was the best she could do.

Makayla walked into the kitchen. “Is it true? Is he gone?”

“He is. I’m sorry, Makayla. He wants to give up his rights to the baby.”

The teen started to cry again. Gabby rose and held out her arms as the girl walked to her. Gabby hugged her tight, then felt the twins holding on, as well.

While the news wasn’t a surprise, it still sucked. Having Boyd out of the picture made things both better and worse. They didn’t have to include him or his family in any decisions they made, but Makayla was hurt. With things bad with Andrew right now, Gabby felt stressed and hopeless.

“We’ll figure it out,” she promised, not sure what that meant.

“He said he loved me,” Makayla repeated. “He said we’d be together always. How can he walk away from me and our baby?”

Gabby heard the garage door open. The twins released her and ran toward the door.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

She expected Makayla to follow in their footsteps, but Makayla stayed where she was. Gabby heard the door open and the girls greeting their father.

“Daddy! Makayla’s crying and Mommy’s mad and she screamed and we were scared.”

Gabby winced. She knew it wasn’t on purpose, but they’d made it sound like she’d been the one screaming, not the teen. Given how things were between her and Andrew, she could only guess how bad this was all going to go.

She braced herself for the accusations and waited for him to walk into the kitchen.

Kenzie came first, followed by her sister, then Andrew. He looked at her holding his daughter, but his expression was unreadable.

“What happened?”

Gabby hesitated, thinking Makayla would want to tell him herself, but she only hung on, her head buried in Gabby’s shoulder.

“It’s Boyd,” Gabby told him. “His parents sent him to a prep school back East. He’s not coming back anytime soon.”

“Is there going to be a baby?” Kennedy asked.

Gabby held in a groan. Because the twins didn’t know their sister was pregnant. She and Andrew had been putting off telling them. But Makayla had said that Boyd didn’t want her or the baby, which meant— Talk about a hell of a day.

The teen looked at her dad. “I don’t understand! He said he loved me.”

Andrew held out his arms. Makayla stepped into his embrace and began to cry again. Gabby took the twins into the family room and sat them on the sofa. They were both wide-eyed.

“Your sister’s boyfriend moved away. She was in love with him, so she’s very, very sad.”

“Is he coming back?” Kenzie asked.

“Not for a long time.”

“Will she have a new boyfriend?” Kennedy wanted to know.

“Not for a while. Her heart has to heal.”

“Like when I skin my knee?”

“A little like that.” Gabby thought about mentioning the baby, but figured she would wait. If the twins brought it up again they would have to talk, but with a little luck they would forget. At least for a while. One crisis at a time was so much easier.

Three hours later, calm had been somewhat restored. The twins and Makayla were in bed, the dinner dishes done and a bottle of wine consumed. Gabby appreciated the fuzziness the alcohol facilitated because right now she didn’t want to have to think about anything. Certainly not what was going to happen over the next few months.

She sat alone in the family room, her feet tucked under her on the sofa. Andrew had retreated to his office to answer a few work emails. She half expected him to simply go up to bed. It wasn’t as if they were actually talking. But he walked in exactly when he’d promised and sat in one of the chairs.

“I hate that little shit,” he grumbled. “How could he have done this?”

“You know it was his parents’ decision.”

“Maybe, but I doubt he put up much of a fight. He could have told her he was leaving. She’s devastated.”

“She is. Most first loves end badly, but no one deserves this.”

“Thanks for being there for her.” Andrew held up a hand. “I mean that, Gabby. She was in terrible shape and you were totally there for her. I’m not saying you wouldn’t have been, I’m just—” He cleared his throat. “I’m grateful you supported her. That’s what I really mean. Whatever you think of me, I trust you to take care of her.”

An olive branch, she thought in surprise. “Thank you for that.”

He gave her a brief smile. “We’ve got to stick together through this. We’re going to have to be there for her. It might even be easier without Boyd.”

“That’s what I thought. We don’t have to listen to him or his parents. God knows what kind of advice Lisa would have given.”

He leaned toward her. “I know. But now Makayla feels abandoned and scared.”

Gabby wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. Maybe now she would consider adoption. But she would have to tread carefully when broaching the subject.

“I need to ask you something,” he said.

She waited expectantly.

“Are you leaving me?”

The question left her openmouthed. “What? Leaving, as in leaving our marriage?”

“Yes.”

“Of course not. Why would you even ask?”

“You’ve never been this angry with me before.”

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk. Are you leaving?”

“No. I’m totally committed to you and the girls. Gabby, you’re my wife and I love you. We have to find a way to make this work for everyone.”

“I agree. And I think I get to be included in the ‘making it work for everyone’ statement.” She used her fingers to make air quotes. “You can’t make me do something I really don’t want to do, Andrew. It’s wrong. I need you to see that. I need you to understand that putting Makayla’s needs ahead of mine makes me feel devalued. I don’t want to punish her for getting pregnant, but I don’t believe everything goes on as normal for her, either. We still have time to work this out, but I really hope we can find a solution that we can all agree on.”

She waited for him to nod and explain how it was all so clear to him now. Instead he sighed.

“So it’s still all about you,” he said quietly. “I’d been hoping for more.”

“What?”

“I’m disappointed, Gabby. Disappointed and a little surprised.”

With that he rose and walked out of the room. She threw a pillow after him, but that wasn’t nearly satisfying enough.

* * *

Sunday morning Eric texted right on time. Nicole almost didn’t bother reading it. She knew what he was going to say. He was too busy, too important, too whatever to bother seeing his son. She didn’t know why he was always blowing off his kid, but there they were—locked in a pattern that didn’t seem to be changing.

Still, courtesy required that she answer, so she picked up her phone and glanced at the screen. Then nearly dropped it as she read the text twice.

I’ll be there at noon to pick up Tyler.

Who would have thought? She texted back her agreement to the plan, then went to tell Tyler he was spending the afternoon with his father.

Her son was sitting at the low table in his room, working on his drawings. He’d pretty much mastered a basic Brad and was now experimenting with different colors. Traditionally Brad was a red dragon, but Tyler liked him green and purple and brown.

Nicole looked from the boy to the wall. Jairus had sketched out several large Brads. One version had Brad swinging a bat. Another showed Brad surfing. The third was of Brad lying under a palm tree, reading.

Jairus had promised he would finish the sketches on his next visit and then they could start painting the mural. Tyler talked about the project every night and had made Nicole promise to document the process with lots of pictures.

“I heard from your dad,” she said, returning her attention to her son. “He’s going to take you to lunch today.”

Tyler didn’t bother looking up. “Okay.”

She wanted to say something like, “Hey, won’t that be fun?” or “Aren’t you excited?” But she couldn’t fake her way through the false enthusiasm. Eric saw Tyler so rarely, she had a feeling the visits were awkward for them both. They were caught in a cycle. The less Eric saw Tyler, the harder it was, the less he wanted to see him. Still, Eric was his father.

She sat on the floor. Her son smiled at her. “What, Mommy?”

“Do you ever think about your dad?” she asked gently. “About seeing him more?”

“No.”

“Are you sad about the divorce?”

Tyler frowned. “No. You and me are a team.” His expression brightened. “Maybe Jairus could be on our team. You know, when he comes to visit.”

“Like an honorary member?”

“Uh-huh. That would be great!”

“It would.” She hesitated, not sure what else to say. She wanted to be sure Tyler knew he could talk about anything with her. That she would always listen. But the kid was six. She didn’t think he was hiding deep resentment.

“I’ll let you know when it’s time,” she promised.

Tyler nodded.

“When you get back, we’ll go to the POP and walk around.”

He looked up and smiled. “I’d like that, Mommy.”

“Me, too.”

She retreated to the kitchen. Restlessness and unease gave her too much energy so she channeled it the way she always did—into cleaning. She took the burners off the stove and soaked them while she scrubbed the cooktop. By the time Eric arrived, she’d scrubbed the floor and cleaned out the pantry. She was tired, but feeling pretty darned righteous.

Her ex-husband pulled up in his BMW convertible, the top down. Eric wore dark-wash jeans that probably cost as much as all her utility bills combined and a T-shirt that could have been made of silk. His sunglasses were designer and his smile seemed to be even whiter than the last time she’d seen him.