February Waltz (Rhythm of the Heart Book 3) (5 page)

Officer Woods left quickly, the sound of the door closing loud in the sudden silence. Zoe blew out a breath. “This is insane, Tim.”

“Rebel is vindictive. He won't stop until he gets what he wants.” Tim sighed. “I think this may get ugly.”

Zoe shrugged. “The thing is, it might not even be Derek's baby!”

“You could be right, but he's blinded by anger right now. He's angry Derek is laying there little more than a vegetable and he is targeting you because you might be carrying his grand-baby.” Tim sat on the edge of the bed. “It's bad to be so angry.”

“I'm scared a little.” Zoe whispered. “If I wasn't pregnant I'd kick his old ass, but I am, and he could hurt me.”

“No, he won't touch you. Not until the baby is born. I don't believe he’ll do anything at all. It could risk the prodigal son's child. But he'll do other things to hurt you. He's like a snake, slithering along all quiet and biting quick and fast.” Tim frowned and rubbed his forehead. “This restraining order is only gonna serve to piss him off more. So he'll do more underhanded shit to get back at you.”

Zoe shivered. “How is he getting away with this?”

Tim shrugged. “Well, when you make your money in oil and you own most of the stuff around here, I guess it's easy enough to get a god complex. Sheriff Woods is the only one in the whole precinct I trust. The rest I truly believe are being paid off by him. How do you think Derek got away with everything growing up, Zoe? And remember the house being burnt down? We had enough evidence to put Rebel behind bars, it would have been for murder, because there was the little black girl who didn't get out in time, but the evidence just accidentally came up missing.”

“I remember that,” she whispered, another chill coursing up her spine. “I guess I always thought maybe Derek was different.”

Tim shook his head. “Naw. He's just a different snake. He is slick and smooth. People believe he's a good person until he pisses in your eye after setting it on fire.”

“I'm tired, Tim.” Zoe whispered. “I want to sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. You sleep. I'm going to go sit out there and wait for everyone to come in. Then I'll head out.” He stood quickly and hurried to the door. “You yell if you need me.”

Zoe nodded. “I hear you. Thanks, Tim.”

As he closed the door, she shifted and pulled the laptop back on her lap. She began to write.

Her phone buzzed at her side and she pulled it from the covers. “Hello?” She answered.

“Hey, babe, are you okay?” Calvin's voice soothed her.

“Fine, a little stressed.”

“Yeah, I already got an earful about everything from Tim and Layla. I want to come back home and kick his ass.” Calvin growled.

“Why didn't you tell me about Derek, Calvin?”

He sighed in her ear. “Honey, I didn't want you to be upset. You already had enough to worry about.”

“I could have handled it, but no one trusts me to be able to!” She slapped a hand down against the blanket in annoyance.

“Zoe, I know you think you can handle the world but I just want to protect you sometimes. Is that so wrong?”

She groaned. “No, but I don't like omissions and lies and crap. I can handle it. Just tell me the truth.”

“Fine, I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you. It's not like I can be there to protect you.”

“I know,” she admitted. “But Tim is here and he will keep things straight. I'm putting a restraining order on them both and everything will be fine, Calvin, I promise. You just do your job and get home to me as soon as you can.”

“I wish I could fly you up here.”

“I can't. Even if I could, I'm tired of running.” Zoe whispered.

“I know. I'll call you in the morning as soon as I can. I love you.”

“I love you too, Calvin. Don't worry.”

As she hung up the phone, she swallowed nervously and turned back to the computer screen. Her fingers flew across the keys again as she wrote. Grams peeked in the door with a smile.

“You hungry, darlin'?”

Zoe nodded as her stomach grumbled. “I could eat, Grams.”

“I have some spaghetti all cooked up. I'll bring you a plate. You keep resting there.” She puttered away.

Zoe continued to type as she waited, and as Grams returned with a plate piled high with spaghetti and green beans, she closed the laptop. “It looks delicious, Grams, thanks.”

“Of course, honey. You feeling all right?” Her eyes were filled with worry.

Zoe smiled. “I'm okay, Grams.”

“What are you doing on the computer?” Grams sat down on the end of the bed and motioned for Zoe to eat.

She took a bite of spaghetti and carefully spoke around the mouthful. “Oh, just browsing online. Not much. I might read later.” The lie made her wince and the food stuck in her throat.

“Okay, well you rest. Just put your plate on the nightstand and I'll come back and get it later. Holler if you need me.”

Zoe nodded enthusiastically and she stuck her thumb up to say okay, her smile fading as Grams left the room. She wolfed down more spaghetti and placed it to the side, opening the laptop again. Her eyes glazed with fervor as she researched and wrote. She rubbed at her eyes and her arms stretched high above her head, muscles unlocking with each breath.

A small smile crossed her lips as she looked at the eight pages she'd completed. A story was forming and she couldn't be more excited. She saved the document and closed the laptop.
Tomorrow I'll write more
, she thought with another sneaky smile.

Grams had come in during her writing session and quietly picked up the plate, something she hadn't even noticed until now. She shifted to the edge of the bed and stood carefully, moving into the bathroom to ready herself for sleep. Once back in the bed, her eyes refused to close. Her mind whirled and she sat back up against the pillows, reaching for the laptop once more.

Zoe glanced at the time and frowned.
Midnight.
She opened her browser and typed in “how to publish a book”. As different sites pulled up, she browsed and read.
I can submit to a publisher...or...
she paused as she read about self-publishing.
Self-publishing? How hard could it be?

Her fingers flew across the keyboard through the night and as dawn broke, slumber overtook her.

She awoke with a gasp to Grams shaking her shoulder. “What's a matter?” Zoe mumbled sleepily.

“You need to wake up and go see the doctor.” Grams frowned down at her and Zoe closed her eyes again.

“Just...five...more...minutes.” Her mouth slid open on a snore and Grams shook her again.

“Nope, you gotta go to the doctor. Up with yourself right now girl!”

Zoe groaned and sat up slowly. “I'm up, I'm up. When is the appointment?” She rubbed her eyes and stretched slowly.

“You're actually late. So get moving skippy, we don't have time to dilly-dally.” Grams crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the floor.

Zoe groaned again and stood slowly from the bed. “I'm up. See?”

“Clothes. Let's go.” She snapped her fingers.

Zoe raised her eyebrow. “You sure you haven't done any military time, Grams? You're getting good at this bossy stuff.”

Grams grinned wide. “Well now, I have to go see my great-grandbaby on that scanning machine thingy, don't I?”

Zoe's eyes grew soft. “Yes, you do. Give me just a few minutes to throw some clothes on and go to the bathroom. I'll be right out.”

Grams paused at the door. “Well...All right then.”

As the door closed Zoe shuffled through the room, quickly grabbing clothes to pull on. She hurried to the bathroom and readied herself, pausing just long enough to wipe a fleck of toothpaste off her chin. She walked out into the living room and smiled at Grams. “Fast enough, Sarge?”

Grams chuckled. “Let's go, girl. Here's a glass of orange juice, drink it and if you're good I'll make you biscuits and gravy when we get home.”

Zoe chugged the juice back without thinking and grimaced as the taste hit her tongue. “Oh God, Grams, that's awful.”

“Could be worse things. Let's go, let's go!” She opened the front door and waved Zoe toward the yard.

She placed the glass on the counter and walked past Grams into the brisk morning. Her breath fogged as they hurried to the truck. Moving carefully, she hoisted herself up into the seat and Grams clambered in beside her. She started the engine with a roar and pulled out onto the street. Zoe rested her head against the cold window and her eyes drifted closed, opening periodically as Grams hit a pot hole.

A few moments later they pulled into the parking lot and Grams parked, the old truck shuddering with a piteous groan as she shut off the engine. They hurried into the office, only ten minutes late for the appointment. Zoe sat carefully in the taupe waiting room chair and glanced around at the eighties seafoam green décor quietly as Grams checked her in. The excitement exuding from Grams' pores was palpable in the hush of the waiting room and Zoe patted her arm as she sat down. “I'm glad you're here with me, Grams.”

“I wouldn't be anywhere else!” She grinned again, her gums showing.

Time stretched between them as they fell into a friendly silence. Grams thumbed through an old magazine and Zoe twiddled her thumbs.
I wish I had picked up my Kindle, or something. I wish Jade McCahon had another book out! I need something to get my blood pumping.

Finally, the same nurse Dr. Crist had employed since his early days in town came to the door. Dolores smiled brightly, the delicate wrinkles in her face crinkling. “Good morning, Zoe and Vivian! Won't you come on back?”

Zoe smiled. “Good morning, Ms. Dolores. How are you feeling?”

“I'm good honey. Don't you just look pretty as a peach all pregnant! Some women just look pretty pregnant,” she chuckled, “And others look like they blew up.”

Grams snickered. “Ain't that right, Dolores?”

They moved down the hall and into the room. Dolores held her hand out. “Come on up here, girl, and let’s get you ready for your ultrasound. Everything feeling good?”

“Baby girl is moving,” Zoe nodded.

“You aren't stressing out too much, are you now?” Dolores waggled her free index finger in her face as she climbed onto the table.

“No, I'm doing just fine.”

“Good, good. Lay on back here and let's pull your shirt up and get a towel down on your pants. Nothin' in the world is worse than that goop on your pants.”

Zoe lay still as Dolores readied her for the ultrasound. Moments later the doctor walked in. “Hey there, Zoe, Vivian. How are y'all this morning?”

“We're good,” Grams piped up as she sat forward in the chair. “I'm ready to see my great-grandbaby, so get moving there, youngster!”

Dr. Crist laughed as he settled himself on the stool. “I'm working on it, there Vivian.” He picked up the wand and pressed it to Zoe's protruding bump. “All righty, let's see how things look.” He swirled the wand slowly, bringing the baby into focus. “There you go, Vivian. There's your great-grandbaby!”

Grams' mouth pursed and her dark eyes filled with tears. “Well, don't you just look at that? Look at that baby. Oh, my goodness.”

Zoe reached out and took Grams' hand. “She's beautiful, isn't she?”

“Oh, she sure is,” Grams nodded. “She sure is.”

Dr. Crist hummed as he looked at the baby. He pulled the probe away with a smile. “Well, things look good to me. No cramping?”

Zoe shook her head. “No.”

“See you in a week then. Be on time, please.” He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance and chuckled.

“Sorry, I overslept,” Zoe blushed.

“Well, beauty sleep is well and good, but we're on a schedule, miss.” He winked and patted her knee. “See you next week, kiddo. Vivian, lovely to see you as always, ma'am.”

“Ma'am yourself on out of here, you silver tongued snake!” Grams laughed and waved as he left the room.

Zoe took Dolores' hand as she slid off the table and straightened her shirt. “So, how about that biscuit and gravy, Grams?”

Grams swatted at her bottom and helped her outside. “Don't push your luck!”

Zoe shifted in bed again and sighed as she stretched her arms above her head.
The story is getting closer to done...
Two more weeks had passed and every waking moment she had was spent writing. She ate as Grams force fed her and she went to the doctor. Nightly calls with Calvin had become the norm, but she realized he spent most of the time cajoling her into talking. She had become a woman obsessed, but it was worth every second.

Calvin will understand when it's done. I should tell him...He wouldn't be angry...Would he?
She paused and chewed her bottom lip, her teeth worrying the pink flesh until she winced with pain.
He wouldn't be mad...I hope.

Her phone rang at her side and she picked it up without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Hall?” A soft man's voice queried.

“Yes, this is she,” Zoe replied.

“Hi there, I'm Corey Montgomery, the contractor your husband hired?” He coughed nervously and Zoe's brow furrowed.

“Wait. Contractor?” She mentally scrolled through the conversations she'd had with Calvin. Nothing registered. “Contractor...” she said again, stretching it out as she thought.

“Yes ma'am, I'm supposed to be working on your house. I was wondering if I could come on over to talk to you about renovations?”

Zoe glanced down at her spaghetti stained t-shirt and grimaced. “When?”

“Oh...” he paused as if checking the time, “about an hour?”

Zoe swallowed and saved her writing. “Sure, do you know where I live?”

“Yes ma'am.” He didn't elaborate further.

“Sure. That would be fine. I'll see you then.” Zoe hung up and shifted off the bed quickly. “Grams?” She called.

No answer.
She vaguely remembered Grams saying something about going to the store. Pops was working on a lawn mower for someone, and Layla was at school.
No big deal,
she scoffed to herself.
I'll just take a quick shower and meet with this guy.

With trembling fingers she peeled her clothes off and stepped into the shower. Warm water spewed from the showerhead and she scrubbed fast, the rough washcloth leaving pink skin in the wake of her assault. She turned the water off and stepped out carefully onto the mat, gripping the old towel bar to steady herself.
This big old belly has thrown me off!

With her towel gripped over her breasts, she hustled into the bedroom and yanked on clothes. Breathing heavily she held the wall as she walked into the living room and collapsed into the recliner. With a shaky hand she pulled the lever to raise her legs and blew out a breath.
Jeez, so out of shape. Little girl after you're born I'm gonna get back in fighting form, you hear me?
The baby rolled as if answering her. Zoe jammed her hand down between the frame of the chair and the cushion, seeking to find the remote.

As she found it she pulled it free and turned the ancient TV on. Food Network played as she waited for Corey to show up. She was jerked from her pregnant woman food fantasies when a knock sounded at the door. Grunting, she dropped her legs and hefted herself out of the worn chair. She puffed and huffed as she rounded the kitchen table.

“Just a minute,” she gasped as she opened the door.

“Hi, I'm Corey,” the young man on the doorstep said with a smile. She took in his boyish good looks and messy blond hair quickly.

“Hi, Corey. Please, come on in. I can't stand too long. Supposed to be on bed rest, but I can sit up here for a little bit.” She walked back into the living room and waved him inside.

Corey hesitantly stepped inside and closed the door. He pulled a notepad from the back of his insanely tight Levi's and sat down in the rocking chair opposite her. “So,” he started with a warm smile, “Tell me Mrs. Hall, what you're looking for in your house.”

Zoe shook her head. “I'm Zoe. Not Mrs. Hall.”

“My apologies,” he smiled sheepishly.

“It's fine, Corey, I just figure if we're going to work together, may as well lose the formalities real fast.” She smiled and pulled the lever to recline in the chair. With her hands clasped over her stomach she pursed her lips and thought. After a moment she spoke. “Okay, so here's what I want. I want some of the seventies things pulled out and newer things put in. Counters, wallpaper has to go, etcetera...Wait, what's our budget?”

Corey shifted uncomfortably and coughed. “Mr. Hall said that was at your discretion, Mrs. - ah Zoe.”

Zoe raised an eyebrow. “
My
discretion? Well then. I want the house painted robin's egg blue. Match it to the porch swing and the bathroom. You can't change the bathroom. At all. Period.”

“Okay... we won't change the bathroom and I'll get a sample to paint the house. Not a problem at all.” He jotted notes quickly with a stub of a pencil.

“Great. I have a few other ideas...” She rattled off her other desires for the little house and Corey nodded and followed along, his little pencil flying across the page. Finally she stopped. “That's it. Can you handle it?”

Corey smiled wide. “Of course I can. It's not a problem at all.” He stood and held out his hand. “Zoe it was lovely to meet you. I'll be over later this week to show you some samples and the plans I've drawn up. Sound good?”

Zoe shook his hand. “It sounds great. Thank you.”

Corey waved his goodbye as he left and Zoe grabbed the remote to drool over more food. A few moments later her stomach protested loudly and she carefully pulled herself out of the chair and lumbered into the kitchen. The cabinets yielded a box of partially stale Teddy Grahams and a jar of peanut butter. Satisfied with her snack, she took herself back to the bedroom and lay in bed.

She munched the crackers for a few moments and then pulled her laptop onto her lap. Slowly, she read through her manuscript again, searching for errors as she went. The story was easy to tell, but hard to write, if that made any sense at all. A tiny part of her felt guilty for writing what she had, but on the other hand, it felt good. What had started as a story of her life had taken a turn into a mystery, and she was no longer Poppy Monroe, in love with Jace Monroe. No, now she was Poppy Monroe, the girl in love with Jace Monroe who dug for the truth about the big wig in her town.

Zoe tweaked a few lines she didn't like and as the sun set she blew out a breath and saved the manuscript.
I need someone to read it,
she sighed.
Who can I trust?
A sly smile crossed her lips and she texted the only person who really wouldn't care what she did. Layla.

Z: Are you busy?

L: Not really. Doing some schoolwork.

Z: Come to the room. I need to talk to you.

Layla knocked on the door a few moments later and stuck her head inside. “What's up?”

The tentative relationship they had was rocky at best, but Zoe knew she had no one else. “I need...a favor.”

Layla walked inside the room and sat on the end of the bed. “Oh? Do tell.”

Zoe winced a little at the snide tone she heard. “I need you to read something.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “I'm not reading a birthing book, so you can get that right out of your head.”

“It might be good birth control,” Zoe quipped and then sighed. “No, it's not that.” Her fingers twisted in the blanket nervously.

Layla's forehead furrowed. “Ooookay? Then what is it?”

Zoe handed her the laptop. “It's the file already open. Will you read it?”

Layla opened the laptop with a curious glance. “What is it?”

“A – A book I wrote,” Zoe stammered.

“A book?” Layla muttered incredulously, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the first few lines.

“Yes. Take the laptop and please read it.” Zoe whispered.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because, you're the only one who knows. I need someone to read it to tell me if it's any good or not.” Zoe mumbled.

“Wha – at? I'm the person you asked to read it first?” Her shoulders straightened and she smirked. “Seriously?”

Zoe nodded. “I knew regardless of how you felt about me and your brother you'd hold your tongue about this.”

“Calvin doesn't know?” Layla's lips turned down.

“No. I want to surprise him with this. I've looked into getting paperbacks and stuff, self-publishing, it's legit. I found someone online who does editing and I found someone who does covers. I can have this out in the public eye in a few weeks. If you think it's good.” Zoe explained quietly.

“Well sure.” Layla nodded. “A surprise. I will read it and tell you what I think. It might take me a day or two. Do you want to forward the file to my e-mail?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Zoe took the laptop back and sent the file to her. “There you go.”

“Okay,” Layla smiled as she got off the bed. “I'll read it when I get a chance.”

Zoe tried to return the smile but her heart was heavy as the teenager walked out the door.
She's not gonna read it.