Magic Moment (20 page)

He was long past exhaustion, and the last ounce of his resolve disintegrated.

“Laura! Open the door!”

No sound, not even tears.

He banged so hard the door shook. “Open the damn door! Now, Laura!”

“Go away,” she said, her tone warning. “Or — or I’ll call Saunders.”

Chase spun around to his aunt. Fury masked his hurt and whatever words popped into his head exploded out of his mouth. “The woman’s nuts. I’m married to a head case.”

“Chase!” Lonnie scolded.

He decided he was a fool. “I spent the night in a jail cell, on a cot that was harder than a linoleum floor. I couldn’t sleep, wrestling with Ned’s suspicions that maybe Laura wasn’t the innocent victim she pretended to be. Maybe she was a partner in my father’s bullshit and what I walked into on my boat … ” He smiled cunningly. “What do they say? You reap what you sow, and she was getting what she deserved.”

Lonnie gasped. “Chase Donovan, Laura — ”

Chase was drained, wounded, insulted, and most of all, defeated. His heart had been ripped and stomped on.

“Aunt Lonnie, I’m worn out. I’m sick. Sick of my father. Of his deceit. His schemes. All I’ve done for Laura,” he said, his temper hitting its peak. “First, she believed I was part of the scheme to kill her. Now, she thinks I married her and got her pregnant to save myself?”

“Chase,” Lonnie pleaded.

His eyes narrowed. “Everywhere I turn, there’s hysterics for me to deal with. I’m tired. I’m tired of her, her lack of trust, her moods, her hormones … ” His heart beat hard. Laura didn’t believe in him. The thought stuck in his craw. “I’m sick and tired of everything.”

He tossed the key on the coffee table, pulled open the front door, and stepped into the hallway. Lonnie ran after him. She stood by the unit’s door as Chase strode to the elevator.

“Chase Donovan, you be a man and listen to me,” Lonnie called sharply. “I always prayed the day wouldn’t come when I’d see your disgusting father in you, but I obviously haven’t been praying hard enough.”

A comparison to his father halted Chase, and he turned back toward his aunt.

“All you did for Laura? You did what you did for you.” Lonnie’s eyes, vibrant blue like Chase’s, blazed a wrath he had never before seen. “You didn’t want to admit Dick was capable of doing such a horrendous thing to Laura. You didn’t want to send him to jail, which is where he belongs, then have to live with your regret. No amount of looking the other way will ever alter what your father is. He’s a selfish, devious bastard.”

Chase was unmoved and his aunt continued, her anger uncompromising. “If you wanted what was best for Laura, you would have taken her to the nearest hospital and called the police. Sent them straight to your father’s doorstep,” she hissed. “Gotten Laura the professional care she needed. Not taken her down the Atlantic like Huckleberry Finn. Or talked her into a marriage when she was too disorientated to make a coherent decision. To top everything, you bring a baby into this mess.”

Chase stood, taking in words he didn’t want to hear.

“Laura was traumatized.” Lonnie unleashed her fury in full force. “You didn’t help her cope. You helped her pretend it didn’t happen, just like you pretend your father isn’t a poor excuse for a man, like you pretend he didn’t hit your mother, my sister. I’m so grateful Michelle’s not alive to see the Dick Donovan stunt you pulled. You didn’t make this about Laura. Like your father, it’s all about you,” she finished, her angry eyes dueling hard with his.

Chase waved away his aunt’s comments and her asinine thoughts. The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside the empty car, riding alone. There were no polite words to the staff he had greeted warmly mere minutes ago. Chase got behind the BMW’s wheel and sped away.

“Chase, it’s Aunt Lonnie. Laura’s with me in Sea Tower. Please call the house,” she pleaded.

Taking a long swallow from his beer bottle and stretching out on the hotel’s king-size bed, Chase listened to his cell phone’s voicemail again. For the past three days, his aunt had left similar messages. After storming out of Laura’s condo a week ago, he had headed straight for Atlantic City. He was grateful Laura was safe in Sea Tower, but quite frankly he didn’t want to deal with either woman. Aunt Lonnie’s calls weren’t returned.

“Damn it, Chase!” his father barked into the voicemail. “Where the hell are you?” His tone had the same stern pitch as messages left during the journey on
Madre
. “Call me!”

Chase didn’t want to speak with Dick either, but for a different reason. Once the hostile words poured out, Chase knew there was no taking them back. He ignored those calls, too.

His emotions see-sawed between hurt and bitterness. Hurt, because he had fallen in love with Laura. If she didn’t believe in him, then obviously her feelings didn’t mirror his. In his dealings with women, Chase had always been ready to give a woman his body. But, with Laura, he had also given her his heart.

Which brought about Chase’s bitterness. He had put her back together physically and emotionally. His care had meant nothing to her. She had chosen Saunders’ words over Chase’s actions.

At times, he wondered if Aunt Lonnie’s sentiments held an iota of truth. That he had come to Laura’s aid to ease his own conscience and his own guilt for the torment his father had caused.

On top of everything else, he felt like a putz, the biggest bastard on God’s green earth. He had a baby on the way. A baby whose conception had been his idea. A baby he had promised to take care of. Only he didn’t know how to deal with the child’s mother and so he stayed away.

Add helplessness to Chase’s list of emotions. He didn’t deal well with the struggle between his feelings and his conscience.

Whiling away in Atlantic City, Chase drank, gambled, and hung out with whatever acquaintances he met. Days turned into weeks, his activities a feeble attempt to pretend he didn’t have a wife with a child on the way. And that he didn’t miss them so much the ache hurt like hell.

• • •

Today was July 4th, yet the air held an autumn nip. Her belly rounded by her fourth month of pregnancy, Laura pulled on the too-snug denim jeans. She needed to add maternity jeans to the shopping list. After running a brush through her long, loose hair, she slipped a white cardigan sweater over her blue cotton T-shirt.

“Aunt Lonnie, I’m heading out for my walk,” Laura called.

Lonnie was in the kitchen baking her famous apple/blueberry muffins. “Enjoy,” she shouted over the hand mixer’s buzz. “We’ll leave for the park around eleven.” They planned on attending the county’s holiday picnic.

Laura stepped outside and inhaled the briny sea air. Despite the chill, the sky was clear with the sun shining. She enjoyed her daily walks, benefiting for another reason other than the exercise was good for her pregnancy. She always found herself walking to the marina. She relished sitting on
Madre’s
deck and watching the boats sailing along the Chesapeake, seagulls soaring overhead. Being on
Madre
reminded her of happier times with Chase, and calm, happy thoughts made for a calm, happy baby.

Weeks apart had turned into months. No phone call, no letter, not even an email on Aunt Lonnie’s computer. Chase had no intention of discussing Saunders’ insinuations with her. Or listening to her concerns. When their relationship had gotten tough, when Chase realized he had better things to do than deal with her, he bailed.

She felt safe in Sea Tower. Despite Chase’s indifference toward her, she doubted he’d tell anyone where she was staying. Even Aunt Lonnie agreed. Chase had a lot in his head to sort out, she insisted to Laura. But he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her safety.

Probably so. But what the heck had she been thinking marrying Chase? Maybe she had been feeling the loneliness. It hadn’t even been a year since her mother had passed away. Then Jack left. And her best friend, Kate, had gotten married.

An image of Chase’s smile flashed before her eyes and how she had enjoyed being with him, how he had made her laugh with his self-depreciating sense of humor. She thought of how captivating he was, how he cared for her at the lowest point in her life.

Having a baby? It wasn’t as if Chase had twisted her arm. She liked the idea of a baby. Laura had never actively wanted or pursued a career in business. Before working as Dick Donovan’s bookkeeper, she had been the business manager of a gift shop that had closed when the economy hit a snag. While collecting unemployment, she saw the ad for The Produce Market
online. The warehouse environment was far from fancy. But after three weeks of being without a job, she was bored staying home and bothered by collecting a check for doing nothing. She was grateful when Dick Donovan made his decision quickly to hire her. All in all, her job was just that, employment to pay the bills and keep her busy.

Besides her dream of an antique shop, what she really wanted was a home, a family, the PTA. Perhaps being on the boat with Chase, the romantic ambiance of their situation, she saw herself on the road to her dream. Instead, what she got was a quick dose of reality.

And a baby.

As she strolled along the green tree-lined streets, Laura placed a hand on her rounded tummy. She loved this tiny person growing within her. At night, she lay in bed, her arms wrapped around her belly. She embraced the baby inside her, soothed by its presence. She cared for and nurtured this being. This child was her life.

Her eyes narrowed as her blood pressure rose. For her baby, she was angry at Chase. No matter how he had felt about her, he had a responsibility to his baby. What had he said about not walking away from his child? Those words spoken, right now to Laura, seemed like empty ones.

As she started up the pier’s steps, she got a whiff of the fishy breeze blowing from the bay. The water was bathed in sunlight. Today was the holiday. Boats crowded the marina, but Laura was surprisingly alone as she strolled the concrete and wood pier.

Her eyes caught an empty space in the water along the dock’s edge. One sole, lonely, vacant space looked out of place. She continued on at a casual pace, then stopped horror-struck.
Madre
was missing. Someone had stolen Chase’s boat. Her throat went dry, her heart raced. She half walked, half ran to the office.

She pulled open the glass door and ran in, breathless. Tammy, the college student who did clerical duties, was alone at her desk. Stirring her coffee, she looked up with a smile, then went back to stirring. She was oblivious to a pregnant woman’s red face and agitation.

“
Madre
, my husband’s boat,” Laura gasped. She paused for a deep breath. “It’s missing. Our boat’s been stolen.”

Still stirring, Tammy shook her head, her long, cascading, sun-streaked hair swaying with each movement. “It’s not stolen. When I got in this morning, I saw your husband. He said he was sailing to Magic Lake Island. Didn’t he tell you?”

Laura stared incredulously. Chase had been to Sea Tower? He had taken the boat. The boat she loved, where she quietly sat, gazing out onto the bay. Where she found heavenly peace.

Mumbling a thank you, Laura slowly walked back to where
Madre
had stood. The letdown coursed through her, and she gaped at the swishing blue water. Chase hadn’t come to see her. Tears stung her eyes. All these weeks, she had been telling the baby his daddy loved him. Only Chase had returned to Sea Tower, but not for Laura or their child.

Her emotions rollercoastered. Laura realized that within her heart she had been hoping he would return, and they would work out their difficulties. If not for her, for the baby. But he hadn’t and was truly gone from their lives.

She began crying, silent, gentle tears. Her knees unsteady, she sank to the ground. The boat was gone. Chase was gone. She felt cold, then numb. The sun blazed. It was July. Why was she freezing? Her quiet tears evolved into gut-wrenching sobs.

She gasped, feeling as if a hand clasped her throat, squeezing. Air. She needed air. Her stomach hurt and the pieces of her broken heart pounded rapidly. She struggled to get air into her lungs. Terror sprinted through her. The baby … her baby … her baby needed air.

She dug into her sweater pocket, pulled out her cell phone and pressed two numbers. She couldn’t remember. What was Aunt Lonnie’s phone number? If her tears stopped, she could breathe, the baby could breathe, but Laura’s sobs only increased. Her body shook and a pressure crushed her chest. She gasped.

One single digit. On speed dial. One.

• • •

Chase sat on
Madre’s
deck, barefoot, dressed in red sweatpants and a white crewneck sweater, and leisurely watched the sunbathers lounging on shore. He twisted the cap off his second beer and took a long swallow. Nippy for a beach day, but the sun stood out clearly in the blue sky. Bored with cavorting in Atlantic City, Chase had wanted his boat and charted a plane to Sea Tower. After taking care of business in the office, he began sailing up the Chesapeake toward New Jersey. One hour later, he docked at the marina in St. Martin, coming up with some fancy words to get a spot for the weekend.

His cell phone chime jolted him out of his thoughts. The sound was an unfamiliar one. He had been keeping the phone off, but Mac had promised to call if the Magic Lake marina got a summer cancellation.

Chase flipped up the cell’s lid. A tension crawled through him. Laura’s number. After months of not speaking, his heart skipped a beat simply seeing her cell phone number. What did she want? How the hell should he behave? What should he say? He had been proud, getting in and out of Sea Tower undetected. Maybe his self-congratulatory pat-on-the-back had been premature.

The phone continued ringing. He relented and answered.

“Laura,” he said evenly.

She half screamed, half cried, and he barely understood her words. Until Laura’s anguished voice had paralyzed him, Chase had forgotten a promise he had made to her. To keep her safe from his father and Oliver Daniels. Fear tightened his chest, his initial reaction that Ron, Lou, Oliver Daniels himself had gotten her.