Trust in Me (40 page)

“It’s hard to believe you’re like Sam.”

Annie saw Joe stiffen. “I’m not, Rosa. Not anymore. I’m a different man, now.”

Your mother’s an adult, Matt. She can make her own decisions.

He hesitated. “But the reason I’m so sure of what I’m telling you is that I
was
like him, once. I know where he’s coming from.”

“You think my Sam can change?”

“Only if he wants to. Only if he gets help. And only through a lot of hard work.” Joe hesitated, then added, “It’s crucial that you realize he won’t change overnight. It will take a lot of time and outside help.”

I spent fifty-two weeks in a Batterers Recovery Program. And I’ve had three years of therapy.

“I want him to change.”

“Most abused women want that from their partners. They don’t want out of the relationship, they just want the man to change.”

Rosa wrung her hands in the handkerchief. “I don’t know if I can do this alone.”

Careful not to touch her, Joe smiled. “You’re not alone. There are the counselors at the office, there’s Linc. I know of some support groups. And Annie can be a real help to you.”

“Annie’s stronger than I am.”

“She didn’t used to be. But she is now. You can be stronger, too, Rosa, just like her. I know it.”

Annie stepped away from the doorway. The past and the present juxtaposed starkly, causing conflicting feelings inside her. She was surprised to discover that anger wasn’t one of them.

And shocked to find that respect for Joe was.

o0o

LINC smiled and kept his eyes closed. He loved to dream about her like this—tonight she was there with him, her lips brushing over his forehead. Her face luminous with love and acceptance. “Mmm.” He was almost able to smell the rain mixed with her sexy perfume. Silly though it was, he reached out for her.

And connected with solid, supple flesh.

His eyes flew open.

In the dim light of the hospital room—it had to be midnight at least—she was there, leaning over him, kissing his forehead, brushing his hair back. Her face was ravaged, her eyes so hollow it made his heart hurt more than his arm.

He smiled at her. Tucked a strand of her damp hair behind her ear. Slid his hand to her neck. She cleared her throat, and he brought her head to his chest. Slowly he soothed down her hair.

She didn’t cry, she never cried, but she held on so tightly his ribs ached. After a moment, she drew back and stood.

He watched her take off her coat. Kick off her shoes. Her pretty suit was wrinkled; she unzipped the skirt, shrugged out of the jacket, and whipped off the stockings she wore. Linc remembered teasing her about how panty hose were the ugliest garment he’d ever seen.

Slowly, he managed to ease to the edge of the bed without groaning, and draw down the sheet. Clothed only in her pink shirt and lacy black undies, she crawled into his bed, cuddled up beside him, and buried her face in his chest.

He drew the covers up, secured her with his good arm and closed his eyes. He said silently,
Thank You for bringing her back to me
. Then he smiled.
I knew You would.

Chapter 24

“You okay kid?” Margo asked Ron in his mother’s car the morning after Uncle Linc’s attack.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m worried about Mom, though. And Uncle Linc.”

Margo’s face shadowed. “Me, too.”

“I wish you could stay.” He sounded like a whiny little boy, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Stay?”

“In Glen Oaks. Linc needs you. So does Mom.” Ron swallowed hard. Hell. He might as well admit it. “Me, too.”

“Aw buddy.” She grasped his hand. He held on tight. “Me and Glen Oaks don’t mix.” There was something about her tone, though. Something different from all the times before when she’d bad-mouthed where they lived.

“Couldn’t you try? For Linc?”

Her face got bleak.

“God ain’t so bad, Margo.”

“So He says.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Look, I’ll come back more, I promise, but live here?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s my worst nightmare.” She nodded to the school. “Better get going, kid.”

“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She grasped his shoulders to hug him. Man, she seemed vulnerable today, something he never, ever associated with his tough aunt Margo. She acted like she wasn’t sure of things all of a sudden.

Hell
, he thought, getting out of the car,
who was
? Not him. Everything was getting fuzzy. How Linc had gotten hurt. Things between him and Tucker Quaid. Nothing seemed black and white anymore.

As he entered school and headed for his locker, he saw Lily standing there waiting for him. Ron went up to her and, in need of human contact, slid his arm around her. “Hi, Lil.”

He wanted to kiss her so bad he couldn’t stand it. Hell, it was eight in the morning and the mere sight of her gave him a hard-on like granite. Shifting uncomfortably in his Levis, he leaned toward her, but she squirmed away. “Don’t, Ronny, please.”

He inched back. Dressed in a long shirt that covered the top of her jeans, she’d pulled her hair off her face with some kind of clips. It made her seem younger than eighteen.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly from lips tinted a dark pink, “but I don’t wanna be looked at like that anymore. You know, I told you that the day we walked in the park.”

“You let me kiss you last night.”

She smiled, and it lit up her big brown eyes. “We were in private then.” She touched his face, her fingernails scraping along his jaw. “Besides, I wanted to comfort you.”

“You did, baby.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and backed off.

“Is your uncle gonna be all right?”

“Yeah.” He
was
. Every time Ron thought about something happening to Linc, a black hole of fear formed in his heart; he could hardly deal with it. Like he told Margo earlier, if something had happened to Linc, his mother would die inside. Ron knew that from watching her in the hospital the night before, as sure as he knew she was hurting big-time about something else these last couple of weeks.

“What you scowling at?” she asked.

Bravado won out. “Just wishin’ we were alone again.”

“My ma said you can come over tonight.”

“I got community service.” He grinned. “Maybe you can pick me up afterward.”

“Okay.”

Sammy Shecker skidded to a halt in front of Ron’s locker. His red hair was wild, and his face nearly matched its color. His outfit of brown jeans and a white shirt looked like he slept in them. “Ron, did you hear?”

Ron stepped away from Lily. He didn’t think Sammy’d talk about them, and Sammy had been on the outs with Maze and Loose, too, but he wanted to make sure Lily got what she wanted. “Hear what?”

“’Bout Mr. Johnson.”

“No. What happened?”

“His car went off the road this morning and plunged into Coleman Street Crater.”

Omigod. “Coleman’s Crater?” It was an area of town that had been fixed a hundred times. But there was something about the drainage path that kept washing away the dirt. And it had rained for five days. The town was planning to fill the hole in with concrete this summer. “Is he hurt?”

“Yeah, pretty bad. The firemen couldn’t get him outta the car and when they finally did, they rushed him to the hospital.”

“That’s awful,” Lily said. “He’s so nice.”

Ron’s insides clenched. This was the third person in his life who’d been taken to the hospital in a few short weeks. And Ron knew better than anybody what could happen in that hospital. Still whipped from his uncle’s ordeal the night before, he had little reserve to draw on.

“Ronny, you okay?”

“Yeah. I wonder who we can find out more from.”

“Mrs. Matthews is a good friend of his. Maybe she’d know something.”

“I got her first period for English.” Lily’s frown marred her pretty brow. “Let’s go down to her room now.”

Ron just looked at her, concerned.

Lily grasped his hand. “It’ll be okay, Ronny. I promise.”

Though Ronny clung to the offered comfort, he was beginning to think nothing was going to be okay again.

What the
hell
was going on in this town?

o0o

ARMED with toiletries and sneakers, Margo climbed the steps to Linc’s apartment around noon and pulled out the little-used key Linc had once given her. She was running on empty and scared shitless. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought about something happening to Linc.

Or that she’d pray to God for him.

I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you, this time. You’re my child, too.... Trust me....

She moaned aloud. This couldn’t be happening to her, not Margo Morelli, confirmed atheist.
Think of something else
. She remembered how she and Linc slept together in the hospital bed last night with only one embarrassing moment when a nurse came in at four. But the woman had gone to high school with them, and had remained friends with Linc, so she’d merely warned Margo to be out of bed by six when the shift changed. This morning, when she’d awakened with Linc, she’d almost told him the whole story of what was happening to her. Only fear that he could draw her deeper into God’s web kept her from saying anything.

Reaching the top of the steps, she went to put the key in its lock, but the door was already ajar. Pushing it open, she found sweet Jane Meachum inside cleaning.

The PK. Someone God surely would love.

Stop it!
she told herself.

Jane jumped when she turned from the refrigerator and saw Margo there. She looked like a regular Donna Reed in her nice pants and shirt and kerchief around her brown hair. “You startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” Margo said. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

“No, it’s my fault.” Even her smile was innocent. It made Margo’s heart hurt. Jane continued, “I went to see Linc this morning and then came over here, thinking I could clean up a bit for him.”

“Yeah?” Margo had dropped her shopping bag and purse on a chair and scanned the room. “He can be a real slob.”

“Oh, well, he’s so busy. He should have someone clean for him.”

Margo knew that Jane Meachum would relish the job. She should just leave, go back to New York, and let the other woman take care of Linc’s house, take care of Linc. She should let her
have
Linc.

As if reading Margo’s thoughts, Jane threw back her shoulders and faced her squarely. “You’re the one, aren’t you?”

“The one?”

“Linc told me once he’d lost the love of his life.”

Stunned, Margo swallowed hard and just stared at Jane. Suddenly, the woman didn’t look so young anymore. Or so naive. She looked...wise.

“But he also told me he didn’t want to pine away for you for the rest of his life.”

“I don’t want that for him, either.” The hoarsely uttered words were difficult to get out, but true.

“Don’t you? Then why do you keep stringing him along?”

“I’m not.”

“Contact with you slingshots him back at warp speed.”

Margo circled her waist with her arms. Deep in her heart she knew Jane’s assessment was true. Because of that, she chose to be angry. “Look, this isn’t any of your business.”

“Yes, it is. I want Linc.” The other woman’s tone wasn’t bitchy, just determined.

Surprised, Margo opened her mouth to tell Jane she could have him. But, again, she couldn’t get the words out. Something stopped her.

“However, until you’re out of the picture, I won’t have a place in his life. Either let him go, Margo, or claim him. You’re not being fair.” Silent, Margo watched Jane turn back to the fridge. “I’ll finish up here, and then be out of your way.”

Like a child who’d been dismissed, Margo just stood there watching Jane’s back. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do. Then, she turned and headed for Linc’s bedroom, closing the door tightly once she was inside.

She went to the bed and tugged up the covers he must have left mussed the last time he was here. Plumping his pillows, she threw herself on the bed, but that was a mistake. His musky, unique scent was on the linen. So she sat up and scanned the room. There was a cross on the wall. Pictures of Bethy, Ron, Annie and her kids occupied space on the top of an old and scarred dresser.

None of Margo. The notion hurt her heart.

On the nightstand was an empty beer can, a phone and a book. She picked it up. It was called
The Reluctant Atheist
. Hrrmph.

Casually she opened the nightstand drawer. Inside was a Bible. A beautiful leather-bound one that had obviously been given to him by someone. Without thinking, she fished it out. Opened it. And caught her breath. Tucked inside was a five-by-seven picture of her. She had no idea when it had been taken, but her face shone with love and need for the cameraman. It must have been taken by Linc.

She stared at the photo nestled comfortably inside the book of God. Linc the psychologist was just full of symbolism. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Well, it was all wishful thinking. No way in hell was she ever going to change her mind about religion and its role in her life. Not for Ronny. Not for Linc. Not for God himself.

Clutching the bible and picture to her chest, she started to doze when she thought she heard,
Don’t bet on it, Margo baby.
But she fell into a deep sleep before she could analyze it.

o0o

DRESSED in a pair of Linc’s sweatpants and one of his flannel shirts, wearing the canvas sneakers she’d bought at Killian’s, Margo let herself into her co-op late Sunday night. The weekend had been unbelievable. Her shoulders ached with fatigue, worry and the tension of Linc’s accident.

Dropping her raincoat and bag of clothes she’d worn to Glen Oaks Thursday on the chair in the foyer—God, was it just a few days ago that she’d left work?—she longed for a bath and bed. She particularly didn’t want to deal with her feelings, which were galloping through her like an emotional posse looking for its prey.

The phone on the stand in the living room distracted her. Its red message light was blinking. She could ignore it, but there might be news about Linc, so she pressed the button.