Harkham's Corner (Harkham's Series Book 3) (2 page)

“Oh, okay,” she said, eyes half-closed like she was tired of all of this.

“But if you want me to, then I will—I’ll tell him I’ve changed my mind,” he offered.

“Well, is it part-time?” She shifted in her seat.

“I didn’t ask.”

She exhaled slowly, and her chest puffed out. “You know what—never mind. You’ve gotta get done with school.”

“I shoulda never taken on a double major—music and medicine don’t mix well.” He tried to look away from her face, but she was still so damn gorgeous, even when she was exhausted like today.

“They mix well when you’re brilliant.” She crossed an ankle over her other leg.

He placed a hand on her belly and received a kick in return. “Was he keeping you up all night with his kicking?”

“He’s got music in his veins. I think he’s a drummer,” she mused.

He rubbed her belly and kissed it.

The professor began the lecture, but Adam ignored it. He kissed his wife on the neck, let go of her hand and ran his fingers up her thigh.

Choppy wagged her tail from under Mari’s seat. Adam had been rude, ignoring his pal.

But Mari sounded unwell this morning.

“What’s really going on, sweetie?” he whispered in her ear. “Why are you so sad?”

“Tomorrow’s our annual visit to their graves,” she said, swiping a tear out of her right eye.

“You don’t have to go. I’ll take Choppy with me,” he said. “Besides, Dad will be with me, and Lorraine never goes, so no one will think badly of you for not attending.”

“It’s just so sad, you know? Why’d they do it? Why’d they commit suicide?”

He shook his head. “Maybe they thought things would be easier, and they could find a way to be together? It didn’t seem to work much for them here.”

“Yeah . . . You’re right,” she said.

“I know I am.” He gave her a brilliant smile, because he was feeling particularly numberlicious today. That’s what she called it when he was particularly smart without the numbers.

He hadn’t seen the numbers since Megan got really sick one time, and he lost it when she was unresponsive. It looked like she’d lost her soul—it scared him to death.

Other than that, he never worried about it anymore.

Oh, yeah, and at their funeral two years ago—he saw the numbers then, but it was minor, and they didn’t take over.

“Decide tomorrow, ‘kay? You’ll know better tomorrow if you can handle it or not,” he said.

She gripped his hand and laid it in her lap. “Just don’t let go—not right now.”

“I won’t—
ever
.”

It was easy to promise, because he rarely did let go, even when he was holding their little one.

* * *

“She’s sleeping—let’s be fast,” Mari whispered in the car.

Adam nodded.

“I’ll stay inside the car with her. You don’t need me,” Zach said.

They both nodded and left.

The cemetery seemed almost completely empty.

“Do you think we’ll ever see them again?” Mari asked.

“I don’t know—and I don’t know if I’d want to even if I could,” he answered. “I was glad when they left, but sometimes I wish maybe things could’ve been different.”

His dad and Amelia exited their car.

“The only thing I understood about them was that they knew they were soul mates. I know that feeling.” Mari rested her head on his shoulder as they walked quickly.

“It’s family day,” his dad said. “You’re coming over after, right? Amelia prepared a huge dinner.”

“Because Zach’s coming, not because of—” Adam stopped talking abruptly.

“Stop joking about how much I eat,” Mari teased, chuckling.

“I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about how we need to have a lot of choices for their picky grandkids,” Adam answered. “Let’s get this over with.” He halted in front of the first gravestone.

“Little nugget,” his dad said, tears in his eyes.

“Yeah.” Adam’s eyes watered.

“Tell me once more . . . Do you think we’ll ever see your parents again?” Mari asked, changing the subject.

“I doubt it. After I hit him at the funeral two years ago when he asked how I was doing, he probably understands I’m really done with them in every way.” Adam swung his foot and kicked at the grass below him.

“Not even with us having their grandkids?” Mari asked.

“Why? I already feel like I have too many parents between your mom and Amelia, and . . . My head hurts,” he said, squinting. The sun seemed really bright today. “I’m glad we didn’t bring Meg to the funeral. He would’ve seen her as a baby and I would’ve been even more upset with him if he’d said she looked like him or something like that.”

“If I had my dad back in my life, I might’ve found a way to have him around in a limited way. I never thought I’d ever think that, but with children of our own, it kind of hurts to not have that option.” Her left hand rested on top of her belly.

He inhaled and tucked that air into his diaphragm. Breathing was painful when his heart hurt like this.

She was always right. He needed to think about this carefully.

They all said a few words next to Samara’s headstone, then walked over a few markers to find Daniel’s.

“I have no idea how they found the money to pay somebody in jail, and in that institution, to kill them at the same, exact moment,” Mari whispered, leaning into Adam.

“Who knows. She seemed to find ways to get money when she needed it.” He swung his arm around her back and held her tight to his side.

His dad said a few things through unshed tears, and they all left quieter than they came.

They were relieved Megan was still asleep when they left.

“You didn’t have anything to say to your sister?” Mari asked Zach quietly.

“No. Nothing’s changed. Some things are unforgivable, and I can’t even think about what she did to you guys,” Zach answered. “Lorraine can’t either. That’s why she refuses to come here.” He had his hand resting on Megan’s center, suggesting she probably woke up at some point and he had to comfort her until he could persuade her to go back to sleep.

Their daughter was a light sleeper, unlike Zach’s who could sleep through a tornado.

Or Zach’s snoring, which was worse—louder and more damaging.

* * *

Dinner ended, and Adam ran his finger over his phone.

“If I do this, you’ve gotta promise me you’ll help me deal with an episode, because I’m pretty sure one will be triggered if I spend any kind of time with them,” Adam said. His eyes dug deep into hers.

“Is that what’s really been stopping you? They’re the ones that brought the numbers on, so you’re worried they’ll bring them back in full force?”

“Well, yeah, I . . . Hell, I don’t know.” He chugged his soda down.

Mari stroked his thigh.

“I can’t believe they live so close to us. Don’t you think that’s a good sign, like they were holding out hope to be a part of your life again?” Mari’s eyes were like soft pools of love.

“I don’t know. Mom contacted Zach, but he ignored her.” He shrugged and burped. The soda went down too fast.

She kissed him at the corner of his mouth, cupped his jaw and wiped away the moisture she’d left behind with the pad of her thumb.

There was a sort of humming sound.

It wasn’t until she gave him a light nudge that he realized that sound was coming from him.

His tongue was numb, and his fingers ached from keeping them in a tight ball.

He stepped out of the car and walked slowly up to the front door of their small home.

“They might want to meet their grandchild,” he told himself, quickening his pace.

But they’ve never really tried . . . Have they?

He frowned and pounded on that door, making his hand sting.

The door opened, and his mom stood there slack-jawed. “Adam, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I came because . . . Well, Mari said I should, and she knows better. More than you or Samara or even my dad—my
real
dad—Dustin. He’s smart. I hope I can be a good doctor like him someday.”

She grinned. “Come on in.”

“No, thanks. I’m comfortable here.” Adam took a step to the side to see if he could gaze down her hallway and take in more of her house.

“Sarah, who’s at the door?” Thomas called.

“It’s . . . 
him
,” she said in a breathy way.

“
What
?” Thomas came sliding down the hall in socks and wearing some kind of workout clothes. He was sweaty, and his hair was darker because it was wet with perspiration.

“It’s Adam,” she said, holding the door open wider.

“I’m here because you’re grandparents. Mari thought you might want to at least see your granddaughter. And Mari’s due at the end of this semester. We’re hoping she goes over her due date so she can finish up her student teaching,” he blurted. He dipped his head and bit his cheeks. It probably wouldn’t help to keep him quiet.

His leg jerked a little with nerves.

“We’d love to meet her. Is she close by?” Thomas asked.

Adam’s teeth clenched tight. “I’d rather have Mom see her first, and then if that goes well, then you can come out and see her. She’s in the car with Mari, asleep in her car seat. She’s almost two and a half.”

“I heard—your Dad told me,” his mom said.

“You’re talking to Dustin?”

“Only because he wondered if I wanted to be there for your visit to the cemetery, but I didn’t think you’d want me there,” she admitted. “So we opted to stay home.” She left out the part about how Adam decked Thomas a few years ago at the funeral.

“It’s not like she’s gonna move, ya know? You can always see Samara anytime you want to,” Adam said, sounding a little rude. He couldn’t help it. It made him short-tempered to see her smiling like she was happy to see him after all they’d done to him.

“Can I say one thing?” Thomas asked.

“I guess, if you make it quick,” Adam said with a little groan.

“I’m sorry for everything—you have no idea how much I regret the way I raised you and how little time we had together.” Thomas tucked his chin into his chest and swallowed like a lump was blocking his air passage. He wheezed.

“Stop smoking. It’s bad for you, and as a singer, you should know better.” Adam knew that whistling sound in his throat because Mari sounded like that when she used to smoke and was in desperate need of one.

“I’m trying,” Thomas said.

“No—don’t try. Do it. If you want to be around my kids, you’re not smoking anywhere near them!” Adam huffed, his eyes feeling swollen they hurt so much.

His heart expanded in his ribcage.

What had he offered him just now without thinking—a chance to make things better and be involved with Adam’s own kids? Could he trust this man ever to be around his little ones?

What in the hell was he thinking? Damn his mouth!

His nostrils flared as he exhaled. He’d deal with that later and talk to Mari about it. She’d know what to do.

“Okay, Mom. Come see her,” Adam said and stepped away from the door.

She had to jog after him because he kept a steady pace, and her legs were so short compared to his.

“Keep quiet. She’s a light sleeper, and it takes a long time to get her down,” Adam said.

When they got to the car, the windows were rolled down.

His mom’s hands cupped over her mouth and tears burst out of her eyes. “She’s so precious,” she said, muffled. “Looks so much like you and your father.”

He looked away.
Not like that man. Only like me!

“Hi, there, sweet girl,” she cooed, and before he could stop her, that hand of hers was inside the window and she was stroking her cheek. “I’m your grandma, and I love you so much.”

“You don’t even know her,” he said.

“I don’t have to, to love her—she’s of my own flesh and blood,” his mom answered and pulled her hand back.

Megan slept through it.

Mari waved at his mother, and she did the same back.

“All right—you’ve seen her. Send him out before I change my mind and we drive off.” Adam jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “But if he touches her, I’ll shove a stick down his throat and destroy what’s left of his vocal cords.” Stupid cigarettes were already doing that job in a slow, methodical way.

His mom jogged off to go get that man.

Adam stretched his long arm through the passenger’s window and grabbed Mari’s hand.

“This is hard,” he told her quietly.

“I know, sweetie, but you’re handling it so well. It’ll be worth it. You’ll see . . .” Her eyes were filled with love and pride.

“For you—I’d do anything, including deal with this man.” He let go of his wife and smiled.

“Oh, wow . . . Thank you for letting me see her,” Thomas said, sneaking up behind him.