Package Deal (26 page)

Hypnotized by her struggle to follow the road, she yelped when she hit a deep pool of water. The car groaned against the resistance, water spraying high over the roof. Panic seized her. She’d be finished if she got water in her ignition or lost her brakes. She kept her foot on the gas and inched the car through the high water.

The small, dark confines of the car closed in on her. Within seconds claustrophobia crept in. The rain pummeled down without relief, erasing the horizon and flooding the road.
 
The highway signs and lane lines were no longer discernible. She had never experienced a storm of this proportion in her life.

Switching the radio back on, she searched for some weather news, catching the end of a local broadcast. The station warned of high winds over the area and flooding roads everywhere. Travel conditions were hazardous and predicted to get worse before the night was over. Several tornadoes had been reported in central Florida.

It was no use. She could no longer make out the taillights of the car in front of her. She continued with caution until she spotted an exit ahead. She got off the freeway, her eyes strained and her back aching from hunching over the wheel. At the top of the ramp the lights of a Ramada Inn came into sight. She drove straight to the hotel, hoping there was a bar or restaurant where she could wait out the storm.

She fished around on the floor and retrieved her new umbrella. Throwing the door open, she made a mad dash for the door. Raindrops stung the backs of her calves, and, despite the umbrella—which the wind whipped inside out—she was drenched in seconds. True to the forecaster’s prediction, it didn’t look like the weather would improve anytime soon. This was Ark weather!

She burst through the doors and stood dripping all over the entrance tile. She shook off like a dog, closed the useless umbrella, and waited for the hostess to spot her.

“Dinner or drinks?” the woman asked in a pleasant voice. “It’s dreadful out there, isn’t it?”

Kelly nodded, wondering how anyone could remain calm in this. “You can say that again. I’m supposed to drive to Daytona.” She rubbed the beads of water off the face of her watch. “Two thirty. It’s a little early for supper, so I’ll sit in the bar until the storm passes through.”

“I don’t want to sound pessimistic,” the hostess grimaced, “but I don’t think this storm is going anywhere fast. I’d plan on dinner with us.”

The place was empty, so she had her pick of seats at the bar. She ordered a wine spritzer. She was worried about Lacy. There was no way she would make it back to Daytona by seven thirty when the daycare locked its doors. The reality of the move was hitting home hard. No Jill to call, no friends, nobody to get Lacy except maybe Steve?

It was no casual thing, putting her child’s well being into someone else’s care. In the past, she’d been selective about whom she allowed to keep Lacy, because no matter how close a friend was, not everyone understood the responsibility of watching a young child. Jill understood and never let Lacy far from her sight. As wacky as Jill was, she was well suited for the trials of motherhood.

Steve, on the other hand, was single, had no children of his own, had a pool off his patio, and a river sweeping through his backyard. Lacy didn’t swim yet. For all intents, Steve was attentive, but it only took a few minutes looking the other direction to have things end in disaster. But what choice did she have? Besides, if she couldn’t trust a man she’d slept with, she was doing something backward.

She tried her cell first, but the storm had knocked out service. The bartender pointed out a pay phone down the hall to the restrooms. Kelly dropped two quarters in the pay phone and dialed Steve’s number. The land lines were still working—so far anyway, but there was no telling for how long.

“Steve. It’s Kelly.”

“Hello, my love.”

His voice was low and sultry, and she imagined him in bed—it was getting to be a habit.

“How did the interview go?” he asked.

“Interview? Oh, it went fine, but I’ve got a problem. It’s raining bricks over here, and the roads are flooded. Coming down so hard I can’t even see the road in front of me.”

“Where are you?” He sounded worried. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Wet, but fine. I’m stuck at the Ramada Inn, holding down a barstool. I guess I’ll have to sit out the storm, and I may not make it back in time to pick Lacy up from daycare. I wouldn’t be asking, but I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“No problem, honey. Which daycare is it?”

“Playtime Preschool on the corner of A1A and Granada. I really hate to do this to you, Steve—”

“Kelly,” Steve interrupted her apology. “What are lovers for?” His voice was soft and seductive, despite the static disrupting the connection, and warm shivers—shadows of their lovemaking—rippled through her. She took a deep breath to still the tremors.

“Right,” she said into the phone, feeling certain she could trust him and hating herself for doubting it in the first place. “I’ll call the school right now and tell them you’re on your way. Can you give her some dinner?” Her tone turned serious. “Steve, you have to keep an eye on her. She can’t swim, and kids this age are curious. You need to watch her every minute.”

“Kelly,” he used her given name, “I promise I won’t let her out of my sight. I’ll feed her, we’ll play a game, and if she gets tired, she can crash in the guest room until you get here, okay?”

Kelly swallowed hard. She hadn’t known Steve long, and although she trusted him ninety-nine percent, it was the one percent nagging her. “Okay, but please don’t let her into the yard. I don’t want her near the pool or the river.”

“Not a problem. It’s going to rain anyway. We’re going to get the edge of the storm, nothing like what you’re getting now. Don’t worry. I’ll even sleep on the couch in case she sleepwalks. She won’t get past me. I promise. Now, you promise me you won’t worry. She’ll be just fine. How’s her asthma? Will she need any medicine?”

“Probably not. But if you do hear any wheezing, it’s in her school bag. When you get her home, give her a teaspoon. There’s an inhaler in the bag if she needs it.”

“What time do you want me to pick her up?”

“Whenever you can. Just make sure it’s before they close at seven thirty.”

“Got it! I’m leaving right now. Any idea at all when you might make it in?”

“Before midnight, I hope, although they’re pessimistic about the storm. They say it could last all night. I’ll call you later.”

“Drive carefully, Pearson.” He sounded like a concerned father. “Don’t leave unless you’re sure it’s safe. I’m going to worry about you until you get here.”

Kelly hung up with Steve and called the school, giving them permission to release Lacy to Steve when he arrived.
She
was worried about Lacy.
Steve
was worried about her driving in the rain.
Lacy
would worry about Skunk all evening. She always did.

Kelly returned to the bar, in dire need of the wine spritzer she’d ordered.

The hours ticked away, yet every time Kelly checked, the rain was coming down harder and the water level in the street was rising quickly. By nine o’clock she’d stopped counting spritzers, ordered appetizers and refused two cigarettes—which proved she
was
getting stronger in resisting the foul habit. Rain or no rain, her eyes wouldn’t get her back to Florida’s east coast unless she was straight sober, which she wasn’t—not quite. Waiting had taken its toll.

At nine-fifteen, she called Steve back and told him the bad news. She spoke to Lacy, who was enjoying herself tremendously which, after swallowing the initial sting of not being missed, reassured Kelly.

“I’m going to get a room. No one is going anywhere tonight. The wind gusts are up to fifty-five miles an
hour,
and the water isn’t staying in the street anymore. It’s coming into the bar! This is no spring thunderstorm,” Kelly told him. “I think Florida is having an early hurricane season.”

Steve laughed. “You’ll get used to rain.”

“This happens frequently?”

“Sure. It’s Florida. Forget it and don’t worry about us. I’ll tuck Lacy in bed and take her to school in the morning. You can pick her up when you get back in town. Get yourself a room and a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. I miss you.” He hung up.

Kelly left the bar, his comment causing her heart to beat faster. She crossed through to the lobby, where she registered for a room, which as good luck had it was located in an attached wing on the second floor, so she didn’t have to go out into the storm again. When she found her room, she stripped off her damp clothes and climbed between the clean sheets, wishing Steve was climbing in with her.

Wow! What a day.
She was exhausted. The drive over had taken three hours, followed by the interview, the tense drive through the storm, worrying about Lacy, and three too many wine spritzers. Lacy had sounded great, almost glad she had Steve to herself. Although Kelly should have been pleased, it made her sad. Lacy needed a dad. Every little girl and boy did.

Too much wine increased the sting of her childhood loss. She didn’t want Lacy to grow up without a dad. She promised herself she would work on casting out all her old hang-ups for good and save her daughter from the emptiness she’d experienced in her youth.

She picked up the TV remote lying on the bedside table and punched buttons to see if anything she’d missed at the theaters was playing on the cable channels, but the cable was out, so she called her best friend instead.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“
H
ey, Jill, it’s me, Kel. I’m rained in at the Ramada Inn outside of Tampa. Didn’t have anything better to do.”

“Flattering. You’re bored, so I came to mind.”

Jill’s voice sounded good. Kelly missed her friend.

“What on earth are you doing in Tampa?”

“I had an interview at one of the public utilities this afternoon. I drove over this morning, and the weather soured. I’ve never seen a hurricane, but I think I’m getting a glimpse. This is not your average thunderstorm. At least I hope it isn’t, or I’m coming right back to San Francisco. It’s not friendly outside.”

Jill laughed. “Charlene was over last night. She asked how you were doing. I told her about your camping on the back porch. I assume by now you’re settled?”

“Yeah. Everything arrived in one piece. We finally feel at home.”

“Good. As long as the lawn chairs are packed away, I’ll visit—as soon as I save airfare. Uh, hold on a sec, Kelly. Someone’s at the door.”

Kelly eased back onto the pillows, reached for her purse, and dumped its contents out on the bed. Wallet, checkbook, miscellaneous makeup, receipts, pens, the fragment of Robby’s headstone spilled across one side of the bed. Kelly rifled through the clutter, retrieving a bottle of burgundy nail polish, which she applied while waiting for Jill to come back to the phone.

“I’m back.”

“Who was at the door?” Kelly asked.

“Just a friend.”

“Pretty evasive. Is it the unmarried man?”

“Right.” Jill’s voice tightened. “Sh-sh-sh,” she hissed.

“What are you doing? Is someone there?” In the background, a man’s voice struck a cold flash of familiarity. “Is that Ken?” A sick feeling settled into Kelly’s stomach.

“Shit!” Jill cursed, mumbling something Kelly couldn’t understand.

“What ‘s going on, Jill? Who’s there?” Kelly got up and moved to the window, looking out at the rain. “Jill? Answer me.”

“Nobody.” Jill laughed nervously. “Me and Ken? Over my dead body.”

Over mine.
Kelly wasn’t backing down. “Who is it then?” She knew Ken’s voice as well as her own.