Necessary Detour (25 page)

Nikki remembered the scream. “But you didn’t see all of me?”

“No.” Pete grabbed some cutlery to set on the table. “Not really.”

“What?!” Nikki spun around to face him.

Pete lowered his voice and moved to within inches of her. “The first day you arrived at the lake, you were lying on the dock, topless.” He grinned. “What was I supposed to do? I was surveying the area as a possible location for my job, and there in the middle of my binoculars was a world-famous rock star, topless.”

“You looked?”

“Of course I looked.”

“For a long time?”

“I tried not to, but Nikki, I’m only mortal.” Pete obviously thought this was funny. “Don’t tell me you’re shy.”

It was disconcerting to know that Pete had seen her breasts.

“Is dinner ready yet?” Tony asked.

Nikki took a deep breath and moved away from Pete. “Come and get it.”

“Looking good, Nikki.”

“Oh, stop, Pete.”

“I mean the food. Dinner looks good.” He smirked. “You must’ve been opening all day,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear.

She glanced at Connie who was grinning into her novel. “I almost wore out the can opener.”

Connie took a seat across from Nikki, forcing her to sit beside Pete.

“Canned spam, canned corn, canned spaghetti for Tony, canned potatoes with butter, which was not canned, and canned peaches for dessert. We’ve run out of milk, so we’re drinking a concoction I like to call Tanglicious Cocktail.” She smiled proudly.

Tony reached for the spaghetti, and everyone dug in. Having run out of the dog food smuggled from Louisa Lake, Elvis was now enjoying canned beef stew, which left him with extremely smelly gas.

“Sorry, little guy,” Pete said, “but you’re going to burn down the boat with those noxious fumes.” He gathered Elvis in his arms and put him out on deck. Pete had fashioned a yellow lifejacket for Elvis from a child’s size that he found on board. “This way, if he jumps in after a fish, we’ll be able to see the yellow as he swims out to sea,” he’d joked.

Nikki was grateful. “Thank you, Pete,” she’d said. The effort he’d put into Elvis’s safety was touching, and she’d hugged him longer than necessary, later reminding herself that she was overly emotional these days about everything.

After the canned dinner, rain pelted down on the deck and they played cards in the cabin. Elvis was allowed back in and lay down for the night on a makeshift bed under Pete’s desk.

“Euchre!” Nikki hadn’t played cards in such a long time. Burn had never liked games unless they involved him trying to hide a sexual liaison. Nikki laughed over her victory then stopped. A small fluttering moved in her tummy. She froze. There it was again—just a tiny indication that something was in there.

“Oh, my God! The baby is moving!” she whispered. Reaching sideways, she grabbed Pete’s hand to place it on her belly. “I can feel her.”

He spread his hand across Nikki’s slightly rounded abdomen and waited.

“She might do it again,” Nikki whispered, holding his hand in place, wanting not only for her baby to move, but for someone else to feel it. She wanted Pete to feel it.

“There. Was that it?” Pete looked up, his eyes wide.

“Yes! That was it. Did you feel it?”

“That was a definite kick, Mommy.” Pete grinned at Nikki like he knew how it felt to have a life growing inside.

When Nikki looked over at Connie, she was grinning too, but not because of the baby’s kick. Her happiness was focused on Pete.

Later that night, Nikki and Pete stayed up late talking under the bimini tent, drinking mugs of peppermint tea. She’d napped too much during the day and still wasn’t tired at midnight. They kept their voices to a whisper, even though the sounds of the rain muffled their words, even this close.

“Feeling your baby move was incredible.” Pete stared off into the darkness, a wistful look on his face.

“Wasn’t it?” Nikki grinned. “Have you ever felt a baby kick before?” Nikki imagined the answer was no.

Pete paused, and she knew she shouldn’t have asked. The air was thick with tension.

“I have…”

Nikki held her breath.

“It’s a long story.”

Nikki didn’t know what to say or how to change the subject.

“I was married twelve years ago. My wife got pregnant.”

She braced herself. This would not be a happy story.

“….and the baby died at birth.” He cleared his throat, his voice unable to hide his grief.

“I’m so sorry, Pete.”

“We divorced after that.” Elvis walked up to Pete, sniffed him and jumped on his lap, wet from the rain.

“Oh, Elvis, get down,” Nikki said.

“He’s okay.” Pete positioned the dog on the blanket beside him.

“It must have been horrible.”

“After nine months of waiting to meet the little guy, it was pretty bad.”

“You’ve been through a lot.” Nikki’s mind was racing with all the possibilities of who Pete Daniels was. She understood that a U.S. Marshal might not fraternize freely when they were on duty, but Nikki wanted desperately to peel away more layers, see more. Even now she could feel the barrier around this man. “So tragic.” After a few minutes when he didn’t speak, she took the lead. “Who are you really, Pete?’

“Nobody in particular,” he whispered.

“Who’s in the photograph downstairs on your desk?” It was one of the only personal effects to indicate someone had claimed ownership of the nameless boat—a wedding photograph in a frame.

“My parents on their wedding day. The only picture I have of them.” He looked at her, like he’d been caught.

“Are they dead?” Nikki asked.

“My dad died when I was two. Then my mother couldn’t handle it. Without him, she realized she had three little kids she didn’t want. When I was four, she basically gave us up, me and my older sisters. I had to go to a boy’s home, and they went into a crummy foster home.” He cleared his throat. “It was hard because my older sisters were my caregivers, and after that...”

“Oh, my God. Who raised you?”

“Lots of people tried. I had a big chip on my shoulders and was just lucky to grow up, considering the eight foster homes I was in.” He looked at her directly. “My mother never came to get us. I found my sisters when I was older.” Pete rubbed his chin and looked like he was thinking about how much to tell her. “By then, they had problems of their own.”

Nikki tried to hold in her tears. “Where are they now?”

“Baltimore. My sister Sherry is doing great now. She’s a mother with teenage kids—nice second husband—but Beth struggles. I sent them money for years and Beth used it for drugs.” He took a deep breath. “Beth and I don’t speak, but Sherry keeps an eye on her. You have family?”

“Just Quinny. I was the only child of travelling antique dealers who died in Marrakesh when I was young. My grandparents raised me after that.” Nikki was quiet.

“It’s hard to let go of the worry for my sister, but there’s only so much I can do.”

“I agree. So you’re retiring as soon as Connie testifies?’

Pete nodded. “I’ll be done.” He gestured to the gun on his hip. “After decades of being in the field, I can’t just sit at a desk. I’m going to get on with my life. Something I haven’t really had a chance to do yet.” He smiled at Nikki and her heart twisted.

Nikki could sympathize.

“My life wasn’t all bad,” he said. “There’ve been more happy times than bad. It’s just that you’re asking about the bad.” Pete laughed it off and turned to Nikki. “Tell me about being a rock star.”

This time Nikki gave the long version, not feeling the need to keep her summary to two minutes. Miraculously, Pete listened. When he asked about life on the road, she couldn’t hold back her feelings about her marriage and the inadequacy she felt about Quinn’s upbringing.

Pete moved closer when Nikki told him about the day she discovered her fifteen year old doing drugs. “The little girl I’d spent so many years protecting was snorting coke up her nose with some goddamned, fucker roadie in our bus.” She shook her head. “I’d been distant because of a fan committing suicide at our concert. I was questioning my integrity, and Quinn was suffering.”

She took a deep breath and told the long story of her daughter’s sobriety. The conversation was so gut- wrenching that when Pete reached for her hand, she left it in his warmth.

“Life is challenging sometimes,” he said rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb.

“Yes.” She remembered Tony catching the fish that morning. “And goddamned amazingly wonderful sometimes.”

They remained holding hands. It seemed only natural with the rain drizzling down off the awning, that they would lock eyes and feel something. Should she try to kiss him? It wouldn’t be their first kiss.

“Nikki…” His face was inches away.

“Do it.” She closed her eyes and let Pete come the rest of the way, like before. This time it was different. Tentative, barely brushing lips, warm breath, then it deepened ever so slightly. A careful kiss. Pete’s hand cupped her face lightly. He smelled manly, salty. As he pulled back, she opened her eyes and something about his expression made her lean in to kiss him. Not lightly this time but a substantial kiss. He responded. Anything less wouldn’t feel right after what they’d just learned about each other. This time Nikki tasted him, knew him briefly. He tasted like peppermint.

Pete’s whiskers scratched her face. She threaded her fingers into his hair at the back of his neck.

When they pulled apart, he looked down. “You better get your sleep.”

He was done. Maybe he’d only kissed her out of shared sympathy. A pity kiss. What was she thinking? She was pregnant, for goodness’ sake.

A low lantern swung from the kitchen ceiling and she slipped into bed. Should she turn it off or leave it burning for Pete? Did he ever sleep? So far, she’d never seen him in that bed. Elvis had stayed on board with his new best friend.

Sometime during the night she woke to see Elvis nestled at the end of her bed. She barely made out a still form lying feet away on the other bed. Listening, the only sounds were the lapping of little waves against the bow of the sailboat and Tony’s occasional cough. If they hadn’t been running from people trying to kill Connie, it would’ve seemed like a happy little vacation group on board the nameless boat.

****

Waking up to sunshine seemed like an omen. So far, Nikki hadn’t thought about when this would all end but now worried how much longer they’d have together. Even if they were only moving several miles each day to change positions, being on the ocean was glorious, and she secretly hoped that the trial would drag on or Connie wouldn’t be needed after all. They’d get more supplies, head south for Mexico, and swim in the warm ocean.

After breakfast under a sunny sky, Nikki and Pete gathered all the damp towels, wet canvas covers and clothes from the previous day’s rain and hung them on a makeshift clothesline to dry. The sunshine warmed their faces, and Tony made jokes about going swimming. He’d been forbidden to swim at Louisa Lake, and Nikki was sure he was just teasing Pete.

“Why not, Pete? It’s hot,” he said.

“That water isn’t warm, or even cool. You’ll freeze your little huevos off,” Pete told him. “Let’s catch us another one of those cod.” Pete grabbed the fishing pole and beckoned Tony. “Come on, Elvis. We’ll do some male bonding at the bow of the boat.” Tony grabbed the tackle box as Elvis danced around at the sight of the fishing gear. He’d tasted the cod and knew fishing meant excitement and then food.

Nikki was just finishing the breakfast dishes when she heard a yell from up on deck, then a loud splash. Her immediate thought was that they hooked a seal.

“God dammit,” Pete yelled. Another splash. Something or someone had fallen overboard. From the sound of things, she guessed it was Tony. She burst through the hatch.

Pete shouted from the water. “Yes, Tony, it’s cold,” he said.

“Here, Pete.” Connie threw a life ring while Tony looked on from the railing.

Pete swam on his back to the swim ladder with Elvis in his arms. Elvis wore his yellow life jacket and was perched on Pete’s tummy. “Oh, my God, Elvis.” Nikki yelled. “What are you doing?”

Pete glanced up. “Elvis decided to go for a little dip.” His blue mouth barely worked.

“I’ll get towels and a blanket.” Connie disappeared below, while Nikki ran to the stern and leaned over the swim step with her arms extended for Elvis.

“Why did you go in after him, Pete? Elvis can swim, especially in that life jacket.”

Pete grabbed the ladder at the stern, handed off the dog, and pulled himself out of the green water. “He fell off the boat. He looked like he was fighting for his life.”

“That’s how he swims.” Nikki set Elvis on the deck, and the little guy shook off and wagged his tail like it had been a great adventure. Connie and Nikki wrapped blankets around Pete.

“I’m okay.” His teeth chattered and he looked vulnerable in his wet clothes. “I was trying to get him to come to the stern, but he was heading away from the b-b-boat.”

Nikki looked up to see a seal dip below the surface, forty feet off the bow, and knew what Pete hadn’t seen. “You need to get those clothes off.”

“If you insist, Nikki. but we hardly know each other.” Through his shivering, Pete shot her a look that made her blush.

“You know what I mean, Pete. Get downstairs and take off your clothes.”

“Okay, but don’t be long.”

Nikki slapped him on the arm, and he smiled through blue lips. Connie continued vigorously rubbing Pete’s back with the towel.

“No seriously,” he said, “someone is going to have to help me undress. My hands are numb.” His arms hung uselessly, and Nikki remembered the day she almost drowned.