From the Heart: Romance, Mystery and Suspense a collection for everyone (6 page)

Chapter Nine

Katy became cranky and wanted up. Trevor whined a “whee, whee” sound, sure to escalate into a full-blown meltdown, so Mary and Emily hustled back to the house. Time had slipped away. Although Mary had provided Emily with loads of information, it had thrown her schedule off. Not that she’d hammered one down yet, but she had a pretty good outline and the only saving grace was that the men had gone to town for lunch.

Now as the kitchen clock mounted on the wall by the table ticked closer to four, she scrambled, grateful the kids were occupied in front of the big screen TV again with their baby blankets, watching Treehouse, a children’s television station.

Emily grabbed two pounds of butcher-wrapped hamburger from one of the large freezers by the back porch and started browning it in a large frying pan. Pulling out the macaroni and canned tomatoes, she hurried to set the table until the meat was cooked enough to add the other ingredients. Just as she assembled the entire casserole, she heard footsteps, the men’s deep voices laughing and joking and someone stomped in the back door. She stole a glance over her shoulder as Brad entered the kitchen, alone. He stopped cold and quirked his lips in a teasing way she’d never seen before. Emily glanced down to see what he found so amusing and she nearly tripped over the big black garbage bag propped up beside the fridge. While cooking dinner, cleaning out the fridge somehow found its way onto her list.

“Wow, you wasted no time putting some order into this well-neglected kitchen.”

Emily warmed. She was so unsure of her footing around Brad. He could turn on a dime. She needed to distract herself, so she turned back to the stove. But he didn’t take the hint; instead, she could feel his heat as he came up behind her. Flustered, she wondered if she’d overstepped. “I cleaned out your fridge, I’m not sure how long some of the stuff was in there but I don’t think it’s edible. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just toss it than take a chance.” She found the nerve to turn around and face him, and willed her shaking hand holding the wooden spoon to stop.

With a twinkle in his eye, he lifted the spoon she was holding and set it down beside the stove. “For safety, just in case you decide to knock me over the head for the mess I left you.”

Huh, who the heck was this guy?

“Anyway
, you’re probably right. Mac’s been helping out in here, afraid we’re not much good in the kitchen. The guys quite often eat here too. Did I mention that?”

“You did. I’m not sure if I made enough tonight. How much do they eat?” Her palms were sweating.

“Relax, they’re not coming tonight; they’re headed into town as we speak.”

Emily was relieved at least for that reprieve, now maybe there’d be leftovers for lunch. “Um, I wanted to talk to you about something that happened today at the store.”

“Did I give you enough money?” He frowned.

“Yes, yes you did. It’s not that.” Oh, boy, how was she going to tell him? “When…” A thunk
, as if something heavy had hit the floor, had Brad rushing into the living room, Emily right behind him.

The potted spider plant that was on an entry table lay on its side with dirt spilling out. Trevor was barefoot, dancing in the soil, with a fistful of dirt he was about to shove in his mouth. Brad yanked his hand down and snatched him up. “Oh you little shit.” Emily covered her mouth, afraid of Brad’s rising temper. But he shook his head and firmed his lips as he turned to Emily.

“Sorry it slipped. Not a good spot for the plant Emily, you’ve got a two-year-old, I’m surprised you put it so low.”

Now this was her fault? Oh no, I don’t think so. She crossed her arms and took a step forward. “I didn’t put it there. And Katy would never pull a plant off the table. And it’s been a really busy day. I haven’t had time to go through and childproof this house for whatever Trevor can grab and pull down.”

Brad’s cheeks tinted a subtle pink. She’d hit a nerve. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he offered. “I’ll get him cleaned up. Do you want to sweep this up?”

“I’ll clean up. Then dinner’s ready.” She turned her back. Proud she’d said what she did. By the time she tidied up, Brad had Trevor cleaned, changed and deposited back in the living room beside his toy box
, where Katy was playing with her baby dolls.

“Mmm, smells good.” Brad said as he strode to the backdoor, where a rung of a half dozen coat hooks lined the whitewashed wall, and he draped his tan barn coat over one.

Emily put dinner on the table. When she glanced up, Brad was staring at her with such softness, it shot off a fizz of bubbles in her tummy much like a can of soda pop when you first crack it open. He cleared his throat and cocked his head toward the overstuffed black garbage bag. Brad wrinkled his nose as he sidled up to the offensive bag. “I better take it out. Come on, I’ll show you where we keep the garbage out back.”

Brad tied the two ends of the black garbage bag and hefted it as if it weighed nothing more than a feather. Emily followed to the back porch, but they both stopped in the doorway of the living room. Trevor was stuck in his own world, barefoot and pants-less again, driving his toy cars over a cloth fringe on the coffee table, patting it down then repeating the exact same pattern.

“Oh look at that, he’s playing cars with your Katy.” Emily didn’t look up at Brad; what she saw was Katy playing with her Dolly, cuddling her blanket and rubbing her eyes. They were sharing space. When she looked up at Brad, he grinned in a way Emily wasn’t so sure was joy.

“We better hurry, we’re entering the witching hour and something else could land on the floor.”

The kitchen clock ticked five. Emily hurried behind Brad to the back porch, where Brad dropped the bag in one of the large black cans, leaning against the side of the house. “Make sure you secure the top down so bears and raccoons can’t get in it. That is a mess I don’t want to be cleaning up in the morning.”

He was abrupt; the change from laughter to serious, all business, was so fast, Emily felt the foolish warm good-all-over glow he put there earlier wiped away. “I will.”

He gestured to the door, “Dinner ready?”

Let me get the kids and we can eat.”

They walked back in to whining, jumping and the patter of little feet running circles on the hardwood floor.

“The witching hour, huh?” His lips twitched as he glanced down at Emily. “I’ll get washed up.”

The most unpredictable man sauntered upstairs, how different a man he was from Bob. A nuisance really, Bob, was on Gina’s color-coded list, to reorganize Emily’s life, of things to handle. Emily sighed. “Katy, Trevor, dinner.”

Chapter Ten

Emily didn’t bring up the incident with Trevor at the market. She kicked herself for days after, for holding onto it. But every time she looked at Brad, she realized there was some hidden fear he didn’t want to know. She watched Trevor. She tried to play with him, but he just wasn’t quite right. When he wacked his head on the corner of a wall hard enough to leave a sizeable goose egg, he simply rubbed his head and went back to his cars. The latest trip to the grocery store had him running his hand over the conveyor belt at the checkout; Emily couldn’t get him to stop. Little things would set him off into an atomic tantrum, where he’d throw himself to the ground kicking and screaming—pulling him away from the television or his cars if he was lining them up.

If someone new he didn’t know came to visit, he’d climb all over them and then wrap himself around their legs. Brad yanked him off the nice lady who showed up with business papers for him to sign. It was embarrassing and Brad had apologized profusely after he yelled at Trevor.

Emily scoured the internet when the kids napped—when Trevor slept. There were times, days, he just wouldn’t sleep. She researched his symptoms and what consistently popped up was either mercury poisoning or autism.

Emily needed to find the courage to sit Brad down, and talk with him. Trevor needed help and Emily worried each time she took Trevor out to a store; whether he’d have a public meltdown, if he’d scream and flail. The only thing she could do is pick him up and hurry back to the van with Katy, trying to ignore the hard judgmental glares from strangers. Was she hurting the kid, or just a bad mother? They didn’t say it out loud. They didn’t have to.

Chapter Eleven

He’s an asshole, a thorn in her side, which now began to fester. Why the hell wouldn’t the jerk grow some balls and play nice? Sheep were more likely to grow wings before that idiot, who she was unfortunately still married to, decided to become a responsible man. That would best describe all the separation legalities with Bob. He’d left everything for Emily to look after, no surprise there. That’s what he
’d done the entire time they were married. All the phone calls, the landlord and the bills he began to challenge were all her responsibility. As her new lawyer, Peter Murphy, said, he was bitter. Even the petty refusal of allowing Emily any part of the damage deposit, which the landlord was still refunding, even with the short notice, only because the house was snatched up by another family. Even though Bob was not paying full child support and no maintenance for Emily, refused to clean the house and handle any of the details for the disconnect services, he still expected all the money. What a piece of work. You hear stories from other women of how nasty their ex’s turn when the couples split up. Emily couldn’t quite grasp, couldn’t wrap her head around, the fact that she’d awakened and realized someone she’d once loved, and thought she knew, had turned into a monster. So to expedite everything, she’d endorsed the entire check over to Bob, refusing to fight over yet one more detail, even though Gina told her not to do it. But Emily didn’t want to fight. Wasted energy. She had too much on her plate, including caring for an unpredictable child who wasn’t even hers.

Her lawyer, Peter, a short, balding man with round glasses and an overbite, filed the necessary paperwork for legal separation and custody of Katy. Bob hired nobody. He was just being an ass. Visitation, Emily was pleased he’d agreed to
, every other weekend.

One Tuesday during Emily’s third week, Katy and Trevor were seated at the table, their almond butter sandwiches cut up for them, when the telephone rang. Brad wandered in the back door at the same time. He snatched the receiver from the wall phone.

“Hello… Yeah she’s right here. It’s for you, Em.”

He passed her the old phone with the long cord, “Hello, this is Emily.”

“Emily, this won’t take long but I need to say my peace.” Of all times for Bob’s mother to call, and how’d she get the number? Emily closed her eyes, wondering if the universe would be kind right at this moment and disconnect phone service. Brad draped his tan jacket over the back of the chair. He dished up a small bowl of chicken soup for both kids from the pot in the middle of the table. “Ah Nina, this isn’t a good time. It’s lunchtime. Can I call you back later?”

“No
, Emily. I promise this won’t take long. I’m so disappointed in you. You just didn’t try to hold that marriage together and Katy’s the one who’s going to pay the price for this mid-life crisis of yours. Bob’s worked so hard for you and you appreciate nothing he’s ever done for you.”

Nina had one of those high grating voices that carried through a phone, the kind everyone in the room could hear. Emily felt shamed when Brad glanced up. Would this make him think less of her? Of course, it didn’t look good.

“Look Nina, this is inappropriate for you to be calling here. The relationship with your son did not include you.”

“How dare you speak to me like that?”

Trevor started banging a spoon and repeating, “Eeg, eeg, eeg,” over and over. Katy, now finished playing with her sandwich, was unsettled and trying to get out of her chair.

“I gotta go.”

“Emily, I have more to say.”

Brad leaned over Trevor. He watched Emily in his hard difficult way. Then he circled his hand in the air to wrap it up. So she turned away, lowering her shaky voice “No, you’re done and I’m going to ask you not to call here again.” Emily’s hand was shaking when she hung up. She pressed her forehead against the wall, taking a deep breath before she turned. She jumped. Brad was right behind her. She never heard him approach. He’s mad.

“Um, Brad that was--”

“We’ll talk after lunch.”

Every nerve in her body tightened. Her stomach became unsteady. She forced herself into mommy role, sitting down, feeding the kids and wiping up after Trevor dumped his soup. Long, awkward and Emily couldn’t choke down one bite.

After lunch, Emily washed the dishes, taking longer with the chore than she normally did. Brad must have known as he appeared beside her and poured himself a cup of coffee from the full pot beside the stove.

“Put a show on for the kids, it’s time to talk. Coffee?”

She looked up into a face that gave nothing away. “Sure.” Oh crap, here we go.

Emily popped in a DVD; one of the Winnie the Pooh movies Trevor loved and would watch for hours. Katy, wrapped in her baby blanket, popped her thumb in her mouth. She’d probably fall asleep before it was half over.

Emily stepped back into the kitchen. Brad was seated at the head of the table, with a cup of coffee. A second cup in a matching blue floral mug was sitting in the spot right beside him.

Tears burned the back of her eyes. She blinked hard, refusing to allow one tear to fall. She wanted to kick herself for this weepy reaction. She wasn’t one of those women who cried at a drop of a hat. She was stronger than that.

His face softened as she sat. She couldn’t look at him. Her hands trembled, so she placed them in her lap.

“What’s going on?” There was kindness in his voice.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered looking into the eyes of a man filled with so much power and passion, it poured from his eyes. He gave her all his attention. “Why are you sorry, did you do something wrong?”

Emily blinked. “Actually, no I didn’t. That was my soon to be ex-mother-in-law on the phone.”

“You don’t have a good relationship with her?”

“No. She pretty much blames me for ending my marriage to Bob.”

“Your ex, he knows you’re here?”

“Yeah, he knows. Listen Brad, we never talked about my personal life, but I can assure you it won’t affect us here. I’m pretty sure she won’t call back again.”

“Emily, she hassled you here, in my home. And that’s my business. If she calls again and gives you a hard time, I’ll handle it.” He reached out and touched her hand, a touch that was so tender and full of support, Emily would swear her heart skipped a beat.

“I’ll be filing for divorce soon. He doesn’t have the backbone to cause trouble. It’s easier for him to let me handle everything. He’s a mama’s boy; forgot to cut the apron strings, as you can tell by the phone call.” She tried to make light of her pain, but closed her eyes when he winced at her humiliation.

“I’m sorry
, Em. If you ever need help with him, let me know. I have to get back to work.”

She nodded, fearing her voice would crack if she answered. She stood up when he did
, and reached for his cup to clear the table. But he stopped her with a soft touch to her arm. And that’s all it took for the tears to fall; so much for holding it together. Brad did the unexpected; he ran his hand over her shoulder and pulled her into his strong arms. Arms she was sure could cushion and protect her from every harsh bite reality dished out. An unsettling feeling considering she worked for him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

He must have sensed her embarrassment as he allowed his arms to drop. He stepped back and shoved his chair in with his boot. “That’s a lot of hurt you’re hanging onto. Suppose you start at the beginning and fill me in.”

He slid out her chair. “Sit down.” He pulled his chair out, so he faced her when he sat.

“Look, he’s just a jerk. He’s self-absorbed and thinks of no one but himself. I’m just angry because I didn’t see it. He went to work, brought in a paycheck. I was to look after everything else, pay the bills and care for Katy and the house. If something needed fixed, I did it. He refused to give me a break; even slipping out to the store to buy groceries when he was home became a fight if I wouldn’t take Katy with me. There was no relationship between me and Bob. I mean
, he worked in Olympia and commuted; the first thing he did when he walked in, most nights, is call his mother. It bothered me but, as the distance grew between us, I started seeing him as he really was, a stranger who I no longer loved. I felt resentment, and tension rose between us to the point where we no longer sat in a room together. There was no peace, no communication and his mother became the third person in our marriage. He shared everything going on his life with her through his nightly phone calls. That’s how I found out what was going on with him, by overhearing him on the phone.”

Brad leaned forward resting his hand on the table beside Emily. “You listen to me; no real man would put that entire load on a woman’s shoulders. That’s bullshit, Em. He sounds like nothing but a little boy, not a man.

“Is he supporting your Katy, sending you money?”

Her face heated “Yes, some.”

“There are minimum guidelines for child support, is he meeting them?”

She couldn’t look him in the eye. She’d asked for very little. “No.”

“No? Do you not have a lawyer?”

“I have a lawyer, who’s already lectured me, on how I let
Bob off the hook. But I want this over, the easiest way possible. I may be a fool for that. And he can’t afford much.” What she didn’t say was he’d probably bought himself a new car or a new entertainment system. He was worse with money than her.

His brows furrowed. He leaned closer. “He’s an asshole, that’s what he is.”

“Brad, that’s not all. I’ve been reading some research online lately about some unusual symptoms in children. I read about a mother whose child would scream and shout and flail his arms during a Christmas lineup. And all she could do was carry the young child out. He wouldn’t play with other children. Noises and scents would set the child off in uncontrollable fits. The behavior was odd and the child wouldn’t talk to other people.”

“You do a great job, Em. If you need any help or have any problems with your ex, or his mother, you come to me, you hear me? I know his kind, and I know how to deal with him.” He tapped the table with his fingers.

Did he not hear anything she said? Maybe she was too vague. But then he reached out and slid his fingers down her cheek, then pulled back as if caught doing something he shouldn’t. Brad jumped out of his chair so fast Emily wondered if his chair would tip. But he gave it a shove, balling his hands into a fist. Then he grabbed his coat off the chair and faced her. “I meant what I said, Em. I’m a man of my word.”

A difficult man walked out the door. One who was hiding his feelings, his thoughts. A man she’d need to be careful with. Keep both eyes open; this man had the ability to cloud her good judgment. Except a thought surfaced in that moment
, as she listened to the gravel crunch beneath his feet: what it would feel like to be loved and protected by a man like Brad?