Crazy For You (32 page)

“What I’d like to do is talk to Bill again,” Frank had said. “He’ll be back from the game this afternoon. I’ll give you a call then.”

“Can I get a restraining order or something until then?” Quinn said. “I really don’t want him near me. He scares the hell out of me.” She thought of Bill looming over her the night before and shivered in spite of herself. “It’s like he’s living in a different world. He really thinks we’ll get back together, even though I keep telling him no. I mean, I moved out and bought a house. How much more can I do?”

Frank’s voice had a little more sympathy this time. “I’ll get a judge on the restraining order. You go on home, and if he comes over, don’t let him in.”

“He has a way in,” Quinn said. “We don’t know how, we think maybe the basement, but he got in to do all that sabotage. We put on new deadbolts, but—”

“You just relax,” Frank said. “We’ll get this handled one way or another this afternoon. We’re talking about the coach here.”

“I know who we’re talking about,” Quinn said. “He’s dangerous.”

When she got home, the house was empty. “Daddy?” she’d called, but only Katie came running, anxious as ever, and for once Quinn knew how she felt. She locked all the doors, throwing the deadbolts before she sat down in the living room and told herself not to be ridiculous. She had things to do, Frank Atchity would stop Bill, her dad would come home, everything would be fine.

She’d wandered through the house, double-checking windows, while Katie followed behind her, and she finally realized that as long as the dog was quiet, there wasn’t anyone around. She had the perfect Bill alarm in Katie since Katie hated Bill with all the passion in her little dog body. If Katie was quiet, she was safe.

She’d gone upstairs and made the bed and thought about seeing Nick again.
Tonight,
she’d thought. He’d be back tonight. And other nights until he got used to being with her, and then maybe he’d want to move in. Even if he didn’t, they were together, and that was pretty damn good. She could even wear Saran Wrap, or that merry widow thing Darla never wanted to see again. She tried to picture herself in black lace. Nah, she was more red and purple satin. She went to the bathroom to search through her nightgowns for something truly outrageous for Nick to rip off her, and then looked at the clock. Four. He got off at five.

Katie’s toenails had clipped in the hall outside the bathroom, regular walking, no problem, so she’d stripped off her clothes for a shower. With any luck at all, Nick would get here before Joe, and they could do something loud all by themselves.

The shower felt wonderful, waking up every nerve Nick had played with the night before and the morning after, and she thought hot thoughts as she soaped herself all over. Maybe they’d do it in the shower. That kept her mind occupied until she snapped the water off and shook herself a little. Definitely in the shower. She threw the shower curtain back.

“Hello, Quinn,” Bill said.

“I’m moving in,” Joe said, pushing past him.

“The hell you are,” Nick said.

Joe dropped his bag and surveyed the apartment. “This is it?”

“It’s plenty big enough for one.” Nick opened the door. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Joe shook his head. “I won’t be in your way. I have a date in three hours.” He winked at Nick. “Taking Barbara to the Anchor Inn.”

“Barbara?”

“Had a job at the bank and we got to talking.”

“I bet you did.” Joe wasn’t budging so Nick shut the door. “Why aren’t you at Quinn’s?”

Joe snorted. “Right. Like I’m going to bring Barbara back to my daughter’s house.”

“You’re not bringing her back here, either,” Nick said. “There’s only one bed.”

Joe shoved some books and papers off Nick’s end table and set the TV down. “So, you’ll be at Quinn’s.” He looked pointedly at Nick’s TV. “You got cable?”

“Joe, you’re not staying,” Nick said, but Joe was already wandering toward the kitchen.

“I’ve seen coolers larger than that refrigerator,” he said when he came back with a beer. “Once you’re out of here, I’ll get a bigger one.”

“I’m not leaving,” Nick said.

“I thought you were moving in with Quinn.” Joe twisted the cap off and slugged down some beer while Nick thought about killing him.

“She said no,” Nick said.

Joe stopped in mid-gulp, choking a little. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Nick sat down, tired of resisting Joe and thinking about Quinn. “You can stay until seven if you shut up, but you’re not spending the night here. Go to Barbara’s place.”

“You’re going to leave Quinn alone with Bill on the loose?” Joe shook his head. “I thought you were better than that.”

“Joe, I tried.” Nick sat back. “I told her I needed to be there to take care of her, and she said she could take care of herself.”

“Independent. I raised both my girls that way.” Joe raised the bottle in a toast to himself and drank. Then he wiped his mouth and said, “ ‘Course, you know that.”

Nick narrowed his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“I raise two women for you to marry, and you won’t even let me stay at your place.” Joe shook his head. “No gratitude. ‘Course, I can see why you’d be a little annoyed about Zoe, she’s a handful. But Quinn? Easy as pie to live with. What a sweetie. Can’t think why you didn’t stay and argue your way back in.”

“Joe.”

Joe ignored him to look around the room. “Christ, how long were you planning on living here, anyway?”

“Forever,” Nick said coldly. “I take it back about staying until seven. You can go—”

“Forever, huh,” Joe said. “You got a refrigerator Ford wouldn’t put in a camper, your bookshelves are cement blocks and planks, and your TV doesn’t even have cable.”

He met Nick’s eyes. “Your forever looks pretty temporary to me.”

“That’s very deep, Joe,” Nick said. “Finish your beer.”

Joe chuckled and wandered into the bedroom, probably scoping out the place for future use, and Nick looked at his bookcases and thought,
Maybe I should build some in.

The thought held no appeal. So he’d still have block-and-plank bookcases at eighty, so what? They’d still hold up his books.

Except he couldn’t imagine himself here at eighty. He never had. Joe was right; somewhere far back in his mind he’d always assumed this was temporary. This was where his mom and dad had lived when they were first married until they could afford a real house, where Max and Darla had lived at first, and he realized now that he’d thought he’d move, too, someday.

“I’ve seen bigger bathrooms on airplanes,” Joe said as he came out of the bedroom.

“Joe—”

“Still, with a little fixing up, this could be a real good bachelor pad.”

“You’re making me sick,” Nick said. “This is not a pad and you are not a bachelor.”

“Neither are you,” Joe said. “You’re just too damn dumb to go back and demand to live with your wife. You’re going to marry her sooner or later.” Joe went back to the kitchen as he spoke and began to open cupboard doors.

“Speaking of living with your wife,” Nick said pointedly, “how’s Meggy?”

“She’s doing real good.” Joe pulled out a bag of pretzels and tasted one. “Stale. You should have those airtight cannister things that Quinn has. Even keeps Cheetos crisp.” He brought the bag into the living room and sat down.

“Get out, Joe,” Nick said without heat.

“You’re just going to sit here then.” Joe chewed his pretzel. “Best thing that ever happened to you’s out on Apple Street, but you’re going to sit on your ass here in this dump.”

Nick stood up. “Door’s over there.”

“What did she want that you didn’t have?” Joe said. “Why’d she throw you out?”

“She didn’t throw me out.” Nick walked to the door and opened it. “She said I couldn’t move in until I wanted to live there more than I wanted to live here.”

Joe looked around. “Doesn’t seem like a lot to ask.”

“Out,” Nick said, and Joe put the pretzels down.

“You’re under some stress,” he said. “I’ll leave.” He picked up the TV and then bent to pick up the bag. “Ouch. Hell.” He straightened and then looked relieved. “Thought I threw out my back. That’d be a hell of a thing with a big date tonight.”

“A tragedy,” Nick said. “Be careful on the stairs.”

Joe nodded and headed for the door.

“So you going back to Quinn’s?” Nick said, trying not to feel guilty.

“Nah, I think I’ll go home.”

“To Meggy?”

“I figure Edie’s about ready to move out,” Joe said. “A little Meggy goes a long way if you’re not used to her. I’m used to her.”

“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” Nick said, and Joe shook his head as he stood in the doorway.

“You don’t think at all, son,” he said. “That’s your problem. You just follow your hormones around instead of thinking about what you’re doing.” Joe leaned against the door frame as he began to wax philosophical, his TV still tucked under his arm. “Now, when you think about it, relationships are like cars.”

“They are not,” Nick said.

“The good ones are built to take the bumps, they got good shocks, if you know what I mean. Meggy and me”—Joe grinned—“we got good shocks.”

“I’ve got another one for you,” Nick said. “Meggy and Edie are sleeping together.”

“I know.” Joe’s grin widened.

“You know?”

“Hell, yes. Been going on for years.” Joe shook his head in admiration. “She’s an exciting woman, Meggy is. Likes variety.”

“I don’t want to know this,” Nick said.

“Like I said,” Joe told him as he started down the stairs. “You don’t think enough.”

Nick closed the door and looked around. Frayed carpet, fourth-hand furniture, block-and-plank shelves—the place looked like he didn’t care. Probably because he didn’t. It wasn’t permanent.

“Fuck,” he said. “I like living alone.” He sat down in his armchair and spilled Joe’s beer. He got a towel from the kitchen—Christ, it was small after Quinn’s—and mopped up the beer from the floor—damn nice floor, too, every bit as good as Quinn’s—and then sat down to read.

Quinn would be home by now. She’d be napping, or crocheting, or goofing around in the kitchen, playing with Katie, maybe calling Darla. If he’d gone home to her, she’d be talking to him now.

Well, there, see? Talking. How could he read if she was talking?

He looked down at the book he wasn’t reading now because he was thinking about Quinn. If he wanted to read, there were six rooms there to find privacy in. And also six rooms to find Quinn in.

Still, how could he give up all of this? He looked around the apartment again and it looked awful, cold and ugly, no light and no couch and no Quinn.

“I’m happy alone,” he said out loud, and looked down automatically to see if Katie was tilting her head at him, quivering like the neurotic little rat she was.

Right, no Katie.

Fuck.

He really should be there. Bill might still be out there if Quinn hadn’t filed charges. In fact, she probably hadn’t filed charges. That would be like her, not wanting to cause a problem she’d have to fix. He’d better go over there and make sure she’d filed charges.

He put the book down and got up to go to Quinn’s.
Don’t

come back until you’re coming back for you
, she’d said.

So he’d lie.

He was heading for the door when the phone rang. When he picked it up, Patsy Brady said, “You told me to call you if something was wrong.”

Nick went cold. “What?”

“That little dog’s out again,” Patsy said. “It was walking funny and crying, so I let it in the back gate and it tried to get in the back door, but it couldn’t so I went to let it in—”

“Call nine-one-one,” Nick said. “I’m leaving now.”

“—and that’s when I saw the window on the back door was broken,” Patsy finished. “That poor little dog ran right through the glass—”

“
Fuck
!” Nick slammed the phone down and ran for the door.

She jerked the shower curtain in front of her and said, “Get out.
Get out of here!”

“Now, just be calm.” He smiled again, reassuring her. “Just think about this for a minute.”

“Bill—”

“I know you’re upset right now, but that’s really just stubbornness. You knew we’d get back together sooner or later, and I think it’s time. Really, it’ll be okay.”

Quinn clutched the shower curtain and tried to stop shuddering as he smiled encouragingly at her.
Stay calm and you can fix this.
Okay, he was nuts but he wasn’t violent.

Yet.

Her heart leaped and she gritted her teeth. No, she could fix this. It would be better if she wasn’t naked in the shower, though. Of course, that had probably been Janet Leigh’s last thought when Tony Perkins dropped by.

“Why are you hiding behind that curtain, silly?” Bill said and Quinn forced herself to smile.

“You scared me,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you. Uh, could I have a towel, please?”

Bill said, “Oh. Sorry,” and handed her the towel from the rack behind him.

“Thank you,” she said, and wrapped herself in it, feeling less vulnerable once she was covered. Not a lot, but some. She pushed the shower curtain back and stepped out of the bathtub, her wet hair dripping. “I’ll just go get dressed and be right back,” and he said, “I’ll come with you and we can talk,” and followed her down the hall, speeding up when she did.

She tried to close the door to the bedroom in his face, but he stopped it with the fiat of his hand, so she retreated to the other side of the bed, knocking over the suitcases he had stacked beside the foot of her bed. They fell lightly, as if they were empty, sliding against each other so that she moved back, staring at them as they came to rest.

“Sorry,” he said, “I’ll store those in the basement later,” and she yanked the top drawer of her washstand out, looking frantically for clothes to stave off whatever he intended to do between now and that “later” he was planning on.

Her underwear was gone. All of it. In its place was his clothing, T-shirts, jockeys, socks.

“Where’s my ... stuff?” she said, trying to sound normal.

“That trashy underwear wasn’t you,” he said. “You’re not like that.”

Yes, I am.
“Okay,” she said, and grabbed one of his T-shirts from the drawer. “Okay, fine.”

“We’ll have a lot more closet space when we put the new addition on,” he said, stepping over the suitcases so he could sit on the bed. “I thought we could go out for dinner tonight and talk about it so we could get started on it as soon as school is out.”

She looked at his calm, sure face and tried to decide if he’d get homicidal if she told him the truth. Maybe the best way to handle this would be to not disagree, to just ignore what he was saying. She pulled his T-shirt over her head, hating it that it was his T-shirt, but not in a position to be fussy. She kept the towel wrapped around her under it like a bulky sarong even though the T-shirt went to her knees. The more fabric between them the better.

“My dad’s living here, you know,” she said offhand. “He should be back any time now.”

Bill shook his head. “I doubt it. Edie moved back to her apartment, so he’s probably at your mom’s.”

“Edie moved back?” Quinn felt dumbfounded and then alarmed. If her dad wasn’t coming back—

“It was all the mothers could talk about at the game,” Bill said. “I heard Darla moved back with Max, too. That’s when I knew it was time for us.”

“Bill, there is no ‘us.’ ” Quinn watched him cautiously to see if he looked annoyed.

“Of course there is.” Bill shook his head, patient as always. “You were like this the last time I moved in. I kept suggesting it and you said no, and then I just moved in and things were fine. And it was the same way with the new apartment. Once I moved us, you were happy.” He shrugged. “Sometimes you don’t know what you want until I show it to you.”

Quinn opened her mouth to protest and then shut it again. He was right. Not about what she wanted, but she had given in all the other times. He wasn’t crazy to think it would work again.

He was just crazy, period.

“I didn’t want it,” she said carefully, watching his eyes to see if he’d go rogue on her. “I just didn’t want to cause a problem by arguing about it. It was stupid of me, and it’s what got us into this mess now, but I didn’t want it.”

“We’re just like we always were,” Bill said, almost to himself, and she said, “No. Bill, look at me. I’ve
changed.”

He grinned at her. “You look just the same as always to me. You used to sleep in my T-shirts sometimes, remember? This is just like always.”

“It’s not like always. I told you, I’ve
ch
—”

“People don’t change,” he said. “They think they do, but they really don’t. Down inside, they’re the same. Look at Max and Darla. And your dad’s probably going to move back with your mom. Just like I’m back with you. People do stuff, but they don’t really change.”

“Well,
I
did,” Quinn said. “And I’m not—”

“No, you didn’t,” Bill said. “You cut your hair, big deal, it’ll grow back. Next September you’ll be back teaching art again with long hair, just like always. You’re the same.” He waved his hand around the room. “You’ve got the same furniture in this bedroom, the same pictures on the walls. You hung the colander next to that kid picture in the kitchen, the same place it was in both our apartments. You didn’t change.”

Quinn blinked at him. He was right.

“And I know you think I don’t belong here, but you wait.” He nodded at her. “It’ll be like it always was.”

“I’m in love with Nick,” she blurted, as much to prove to herself that she’d changed as to him.

“No, you love him,” he corrected her gently. “You always have. You just got confused about the kind of love it was because I wasn’t with you.”

“I’m sleeping with him,” Quinn said. “I’m pretty clear on how I love him.”

“No,”
Bill said, his face darkening, and she remembered where she was and how much trouble she might be in. “You just tell him you don’t love him that way. It was a mistake. He’ll understand. You know Nick, he doesn’t like to get involved anyway.”

“Okay, you have to listen to me,” Quinn said, as quietly as she could. “I think you’re right about me not changing”— he smiled at her—“because I think I’ve always loved Nick.”

“No.”

“I think I loved him when I talked Zoe into marrying him,” she said, keeping her voice as calm as possible. “I think I just didn’t believe he was anything I could have. That’s why I wanted to be Zoe. So I could have him. Because I’ve always loved him.”

“No,” Bill said, standing up.

“And he’s always loved me.” Quinn backed up a step, still talking in her everything-is-fine voice. “And now we’re together the way we should have been from the beginning—”

“
No
!” Bill said.

“—so you’ll have to leave now.”

“That’s
ridiculous,”
he snapped. “I’m unpacked. I’m not leaving, all my clothes are here.”

She started to argue, and then somebody banged on the back door and they both froze for an instant. She heard Katie’s toenails on the kitchen floor, heard Katie yelping, and Bill said, “Goddamn it, I got rid of that dog. Who the hell—”

“You
what?”
Quinn shoved past him and ran out on the landing as Katie limped up the stairs, shrieking in pain and anger.
“What did you do to her?”
she screamed at Bill and scooped up Katie to cuddle her, to find out what was wrong.

“That dog goes,” Bill said in his Master of the Universe voice, and when she turned, he was reaching for her.

“No!”
she said, and ran down the stairs, taking the treads two at a time to get Katie to safety.

“Damn it, Quinn,”
Bill said behind her, and she hit bottom just as she heard the thud of his feet on the top stair.
“Give me that damn mutt,”
he said and she turned in time to see him lose his balance and grab the stair rail. It came out of the wall when he put his weight on it, and he screamed and slammed into the opposite wall as she ran into the dining room, Katie still clutched shivering in her arms.

She heard him land hard at the bottom of the stairs, but by then she was at the front door, fumbling for the key as she heard him curse and try to stand. She cradled Katie in one arm as she got the key in the lock, got it turned, got the door open, and then his hands were on her, yanking at the T-shirt, trying to get to Katie. She fell through the front door as his fingernails raked her back, and she stumbled across the porch and onto the steps, grappling with Katie as she tripped and grabbed the porch rail, which came loose in her hand, a chunk of it coming with her as she fell into the grass. She let Katie go and yelled, “Run, Katie, run!” scrambling to her own feet as she turned back to face Bill, who hit the top step, his face contorted with fury, and broke it in two. He pitched forward and landed hard, lashing out to smash his fist into Katie as Quinn screamed,
“No!”
and fell over him to shield her.

“I’ll kill that damn thing,”
Bill said, and shoved Quinn hard to get past her as he climbed to his feet. She scrambled to her feet in front of him and said, “Stop it,
let her alone,”
and he slapped her, knocking her back out of the way.

“I told you,” he said to her, his voice calm and sure.
“You’re not keeping that dog.”
He moved past her and reached for Katie, who cowered back, shaking and yelping, and Quinn grabbed the piece of broken porch rail from the grass and smacked it into the back of his head.

He shook his head once, like a bull, and turned on her.
“Give me that damn thing.”

She backed up a step. “You listen to me,” she said, seething. “I hate you. I hate everything about you. I want you off my property and out of—”

He tried to grab the rail and she smacked it into his hand, catching him across the knuckles and making him swear.

“Just get
out,”
she said, and he grabbed for her again, and that’s when Katie bit the leg of his jeans and yanked, trying to pull him back. He turned and swatted at her, making her yipe again, and Quinn lost it completely and smashed the rail hard into the back of his head.

He staggered and jerked around, and she swung again, connecting solidly with his ear. “Don’t you
ever”
—
smash
as he fell back, shaking his head—“come near”—
smash
into his shoulder—“my dog”—
swoosh
a miss as he ducked—“or me”—
smash
into his neck, making him fall to his knees—
“again!”
She raised the rail to hit him the last time, this time between the eyes, the
hell
with fixing things, and then somebody grabbed her from behind and dragged her away, and she struggled to hit him, too, until he took the rail away from her and said breathlessly, “I think you made your point. Knock it off.”

“Nick?” she said, and Nick held her tight for an instant before she struggled free and said,
“Katie.”

She swung around to see Katie snarling at a groggy Bill, who had fallen back onto the grass. Beyond them, Frank Atchity’s patrol car pulled up.

Frank crossed the lawn at his usual leisurely pace as Quinn dropped the porch rail and tried to look innocent.

“I kinda see your point about the coach,” Frank said to her when he was looking down at Bill. He shook his head. “I don’t think she likes it this rough, Bill.”

Bill let his bloody head fall back, and while Frank recited Miranda, Katie moved in and started to bark.

“I’m moving in,” Nick said to Quinn, and she looked at him, startled. “For me. I love you. I always have.” He looked down at Bill. “Also, I’ll sleep better knowing where that porch rail is. Christ, you really did a job on him. I think he gets it now.”

Frank stopped in the middle of the Miranda and frowned at Katie. “Dog, if he can’t hear me, he hasn’t been warned.” He stooped to pat Katie to calm her down, and she squatted and peed next to Bill’s ear.

“Good,” Quinn said, trying to get her breathing back to normal, still terrified for Katie. “That bastard
hurt my dog.”

“That was his first mistake,” Nick said. “Come on, let’s get you dressed and her to the vet.”

Quinn took one last look at Bill, who met her eyes. No smugness there at all.
“Never again,”
she said and he turned his head away. “Come on, Katie,” she said, and Katie limped over to her, panting from barking so hard, not shaking at all.