Trouble Won't Wait (21 page)

Downstairs, as I dial Adam, I’m unsure whether or not to tell him I know about this. I doubt he’d appreciate my somewhat risky plan for revenge, so I guess I won’t.

“Hey,” he answers drowsily.

“Hi, sexy. Watcha doin?”

“Reading your book.”

“I thought you already did that.”

“I did, but I liked it.”

“I can loan you some Nora Roberts, if you’re after romance,” I tease. “I’ll even dog-ear the juicy parts.”

“Shut up.”

“Thanks for lunch.”

“I’m not much of a cook, unless it’s on the grill.”

“It’s all good with you. I’d maybe even eat lima beans with you.”

“You’ll never catch me serving
that
.”

I laugh. “Good, because I really hate those things.” It feels good to laugh and joke with him. It’s a nice change from the dark stuff going through my head all afternoon and evening. Come to think of it, Adam is always a bright spot for me. It’s hard to picture him without a smile, whether or not it’s accompanied by passion in his eyes. I wonder what he looks like when he talks to other people and I’m not around. Is his smile different with me? God, I’ve created this little corner of the world for him in my mind, where he’s only mine. I have no idea what he’s like with anyone else, as if I’ve been visiting a hermit.

“Ding-dong, anybody home?” he asks.

“Huh?” That sounded brilliant. I think he’s been talking, and I’ve been missing it.

“Did you hear anything I said? Where are you, la-la land?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“I was saying lima beans should only be fed to livestock, not pushed on little kids.”

“I’ll support legislation for that.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“I was picturing you wearing the ‘let’s get it on’ look.”

“
Let’s get it on
?” He’s laughing so hard I can barely understand him. “Isn’t that, like, Marvin Gaye? I think I’m too white to say that.”

“You know what I mean. And I’ve never seen you around other people, except at lunch yesterday. It’s like you’ve been my little secret.”

“I could say the same thing.”

True enough. “So, you wanta go to Mark’s New Year’s party with me?” I’ve asked him on our first real date. Will it bother him?

“I’ll have to check my date book and get back to you.”

Yeah, check it good, smartass. “Everyone in town will be talking about it by the next day, but it’ll be juicy talk, at least.” Besides, it’s better than them all talking about poor Mandy, all alone. “Is Rascal sleeping with you?”

“Curled up right next to me.”

“Lucky little shit. Goodnight.”

“’Night, Sloane.”

* * * *

I’m spending Sunday fighting the crowds at the mall with the kids and Mike. I decided to get it over with today, before it gets any crazier out there. Besides, tomorrow the kids are going to Kenna’s for the day, Tuesday is our last session with Baldwin, and Wednesday is Christmas Eve.

I finally managed to come up with a couple of gifts for Mike. If I’m going to pull off my plan, I need to have gifts for him.

Mike came down with us. I think he split in the Durango for awhile, which makes me believe he ran over to the adult store, still hoping to uphold our tradition together.

I slip away to call Adam while the kids are shopping for me. He sounds confused when he answers. But then, it is my normal time to be coming by. “Hello?”

“Did you wonder who it was?”

There’s a small pause. “No. Where you at?”

“Grand Junction, shopping. Sorry, I can’t come by today.”

“Oh.” He sounds morose.

“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, though.”

“Buy me anything?” He’s joking, I know. But I’ve got an idea for his gift.

“Indirectly.”

“Is this a riddle?”

I chuckle, thinking of the tiny red negligee, with matching thong, I bought and tucked inside a bigger bag. “Yes.”
Here’s a hint
. “Wanta know what I’m wearing?”

“Jesus, aren’t you in the mall?”

“Yeah, just a joke. I’ll call you at bedtime.”

“Bye.” He sounds disappointed, and I don’t blame him.

I’d be let down if I went by his house and he wasn’t there. I considered calling earlier to tell him I wasn’t coming, but if the tables were turned, it would ruin my whole day. When Adam was sick and I knew I couldn’t see him, each day was like an ice cream cone without the yummy little last bite. The best part was missing. Now a day without him is like just a dry, empty cone.

I sigh and step into a sweet shop to buy something for Aunt Clara. She gets a kick out of candy shaped into other things. I find her a big candy sneaker. It’s solid chocolate, with colored hard candy shell outside, a sole made of gummies, and licorice strings. It should crack her up. She’ll probably share with all her friends after she looks at it for six or eight months. Hopefully it won’t melt in her inferno of an apartment.

I’m at a loss, as usual, for a gift for Mark. What to buy for the guy who eats everything? Ha, I mean
has
everything. I usually go for a gag gift with him. He gets a lot of goofy stuff, though. He has every version of that singing mounted fish. Lucky for Kenna, all the Billy Basses live in the garage. Mark, Dave and Danny get a kick out of them still.

I finally decide on three books of politically incorrect jokes. At least he’ll have some fresh material for offending virtually everyone he sees.

The kids are meeting me in the food court, and I’m heading there when I run into Mike. He looks excited, turned-on excited, and now I know for
sure
he’s been to the adult store.

“Guess I know where
you’ve
been.” I smile at him, thinking what a perverted creep he is, but he thinks I’m smiling because I’m excited about his gift. Years past, I was. Now that he’s probably shopping for sex toys for someone else as well as me, I find it yucky. Jesus, does he really think I’m going to give in just because it’s Christmas? I hope he thinks so, I really do.

We cruise around, looking at the best holiday light displays for awhile before going out to dinner. I feign sleep while Mike drives home. I’m planning my next move. Within three days, I will have gradually “forgiven” him and be willing to take him back.

* * * *

At home, poor Ben has to wake up and stumble inside all wiped-out tired, but Mike carries Rachel and lays her in bed. She’s still small enough even I can carry her if I need to, but not for long. It makes me sad. I miss having little ones, so much.

I’m stashing my bagged purchases in my closet for now, but I make it a point to hang up the negligee while Mike is in the room. Of course he notices the red, silky thing.

He’s still staring at it when I close the closet door. “What’s that for?”

You’d die if you knew, pal
. I shrug. “I just wanted something new.” I let him see I’m keeping something to myself, which he takes to mean it’s a surprise for
him
. He’s such an idiot. I need to tread lightly here. I don’t want to lead him on so much we have a repeat of last Saturday. Just letting him see parts of me when I dress gives me the creeps, but it’s a necessary evil for the revenge I’m exacting.

He comes to me, eyes searching mine.
Yes, baby, believe in me
. “I love you Mandy. Don’t forget that for a second, okay?”

I nod my head like the fool he takes me for. I happened to notice this morning in the garage that there is no gun in his truck, and he didn’t bring one in yesterday when he returned from his hunt. I let him look in my eyes for a bit before I look away, feigning an inner struggle.

“Goodnight, Michael.” I flounce out in the long silk nightie as if I’ve just recalled he hurt me. It’s not a difficult act. How many times have I actually done that?

* * * *

Adam is anxious to hear from me when I call. It’s earlier than usual, yet I imagine he’s had a long day.

“Did you sculpt today?”

“Yeah, for like twelve hours.”

“Is the dog done?”

“Yeah. Got any ideas how I should wrap him?”

“It’s for the old man? Hmm, I’d just put a big red bow around his neck, like a collar. He’ll be thrilled as soon as he sees you walk in with it. Do you listen to music while you’re sculpting, or is it quiet?”

“Depends what I’m working on, but usually music. Something I’m familiar with, so I don’t think about the words.”

“Yeah, I do that writing too. New stuff distracts me. My first novel, I listened to the same two hour playlist again and again while I wrote.”

“What do you listen to now while you work?”

“Most days Joan Jett, because my heroine is pissed and sexually frustrated. Go figure! Also AC/DC and Guns-n-Roses. And Billy. I can listen to Billy while I’m doing
anything
, besides sleeping. When things start working out for my character, I’ll switch to country music. For sexy scenes, Enrique Iglesias.”

“You think he’s sexy?”

“Can’t hear that voice and
not
get turned on. Who do you think sounds sexy?”

“You.”

“Stop.”

He chuckles. “I used to really like Jewel. She’s good when you’re depressed.”

“Jewel has such a sweet little voice. I thought all guys like women with deep, sexy voices.”
And why were you depressed?

“You’re right. Bonnie Tyler’s good, too.”

“
Total Eclipse of the Heart
.”

“That’s actually my favorite song.”

I laugh. “Why didn’t you say so when I asked?”

“I wanted to sound cool.”

“You’re funny. What else did you fib about?
Ferris Bueller
?”

“No, that’s true. My little sister used to get me busted for everything, and I idolized Ferris because he foiled his sister and got off scot-free.”

“Does she look like you? Your sister?”

“She’s a girl.”

“Duh. I guess you’d be an ugly girl, though.”

“Hopefully. No, she’s definitely not ugly.”

“What’s her name?”
Please, let it be…

“Brenda.”

Damn, double damn! Not Laura.
“Did you beat up boys for her?”

“No. Did Mark do that for you?” Adam sounds nervous whenever Mark comes up in conversation.

I snicker. “Daily. Just yesterday he offered. No, he warned that he’s gonna ‘bust Mike’s ass,’ whatever that means.”

“Think he will?” He chuckles. As long as Mike’s the one in trouble with Mark, it’s funny.

“Doubtful. I think he just wanted me to tell Mike so he’d be scared. He also told me he was gonna have a talk with you, after our lunch.”

“Shit, wha’d you tell him? I better start trainin’ to run fast.”

Not even bulking up to fight back, just get the heck out of Mark the Mansion’s reach.

“Mark won’t hurt you. Unless you hurt me.”
And you won’t
.

“Yeah,” Adam laughs humorlessly, “just that one tiny condition.”

“I think he was only tormenting me about talking to you, anyway. He lives to tease me, still.”
And expose my philandering husband
. “He might beat you up if you don’t come to his party with me.”

“I feel like the next few days are gonna last a year.”

“Me too, Ferris. Me too. Want me to tell ya what I’m wearing?”

“
No!
”

“Come on, humor a girl.”

“Yeah, so you can be clawing and scratching horny, and go upstairs in search of fulfillment?”

Now
that
stung. I know he meant it as a joke, but I can’t laugh. “Funny.”

I’m embarrassed now. Does he think I can’t control myself? Does he not trust me here?

“I was only kidding–”

“Except for the bit of truth, right?” At least he can’t see me rolling my eyes.

“I know he’d take advantage of it. I’m sorry. It was a bad joke.”

I force a smile. “Yeah, but I’ll forgive you cause you’re cute.”

“Thank God for that.” His voice is warm, and he sounds relieved. “Besides, think how it is for me, letting you listen to me every time. Kinda uncomfortable, if I think of it.”

“Are you uncomfortable, down
there
? Uncommonly hard?”

“Mandy, stop.”

“Okay. It was worth a try.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll wait to hear that ungodly snoring you do.”

“Shut up. I do not.”

“Yes, you do! I’m crazy for you. Goodnight.”

I hear him fiddling with his CD player, and then his favorite song is playing softly. I fall asleep wondering how I’ll endure the next five days.

Chapter 13

Monday. Three days until Christmas. When I run the kids over to Mark and Kenna’s, she wants to be a shoulder for me to cry on. Mark has told her everything Jake didn’t know, and she’s sympathetically appalled.