Reckless in Moonlight (13 page)

“I moved in with the woman I had an affair with.”

“Son of a bitch!” The racquetball bounced off the court and caught him in the nuts. Lon crushed the empty can in his hand.

“You cheated on Mom? How could you?” His mother must have been devastated, the way Dana had been when her ex started screwing around. Lon thought his father was a man of character and honesty and had respected him even if he didn’t always agree with him. Lon scrutinized the man sitting across from him. Who was he?

His dad met his stare unflinchingly. “At the time, I rationalized it plenty, but I don’t excuse my behavior. Your mother has forgiven me, and I’ve spent every day of my life since then making it up to her, to give her no cause for concern.” His father removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He donned them and cleared his throat. “I know you thought—”

“There’s more?” Lon held up his hand to forestall any new revelations. “I don’t want to hear this.” Lon cast his attention on their reflection in the window. All the Corbin males shared a strong resemblance. In his younger brothers, Lon recognized himself as he had been; in his father, he saw who he would become. Except he never would hurt the woman he loved.

“You thought Braden and Jeff were late-in-life accidents,” his dad continued. “They weren’t. They were reunification babies. I was satisfied with one child; your mother had wanted more. After the affair, I agreed to have another baby. One turned out to be two.”

Of all the confessions, that one shocked him the least. Shaking his head, Lon contemplated his father. Anger on his mother’s behalf seethed in his chest, but that wasn’t the only reason. “You cheat on Mom, and then you want to lecture me about my relationships?”

“That’s the point. I cheated on your mother. We had pens in our hands to sign the divorce papers when we agreed to try one last time. Despite all the hurt I caused, our marriage now is stronger than ever.

“Dana Markus and her husband might divorce. But it’s possible her
husband
might come to his senses the way I did, and she might forgive him like your mother did me. They’ve been together how long? Twenty years? Twenty-five? Weeks can’t compare to a long-term marriage.”

Lon couldn’t take any more. He stood. “If there was a chance of Dana reuniting with her
ex
, she would tell me. She wouldn’t lead me on.” Their physical union had been a melding of mind and spirit. They hadn’t fucked; they’d made love.

Lon tucked his chair under the kitchen table. “Thanks for the beer.” He turned on his heel.

“I
know
Dana,” Lon shot over his shoulder. As he stomped out of his parents’ house, he trampled on the little voice that reminded him that he assumed he’d known his father too.

Chapter Eight

Katie feigned interest as she flipped through the hangers on the rounder. The shirts were ugly—everything in the small, crowded store was. She pulled a hideous top off the rack and held it up. The yellow-brown shade matched the color of baby poop. What were the designer and the store’s buyer thinking? Not only was the color atrocious, the clingy ruffled scrap would barely cover her tits.

The ugliness of the top and the stupidity of the buyer in selecting it added to the anger and frustration that had been growing since she’d first run into her mother outside the restaurant. At the sight of her mother clinging to the neighbors’ son like a wet piece of plastic wrap and him sporting a major woody, the truth had finally hit home. Her parents were divorcing.

Her mother had been calling to set up lunch, but Katie had dodged her for two weeks until she couldn’t anymore. She didn’t know what to say. It was selfish, but she wanted her parents to stay together, to try to work it out.

She sneaked a glance at her mother. Her forehead was wrinkled into an expression of pain, but whether it resulted from the clothing selections or the music squealing over the store’s speakers was difficult to ascertain.

Who was that woman? Who were her parents? Creek’s Crossing was a small town; people whispered, and gossip could get around. If her mother wasn’t more circumspect, she would ruin her chances of saving her marriage. Her dad’s affair with Mila had dealt a hurtful blow, but didn’t men go through stuff like that? At least half her friends’ parents had had affairs, and they’d stayed together. Couldn’t her parents go to counseling and patch it up?

If they didn’t, Katie would never forgive herself.

She was the one who’d invited Mila to the house, had introduced her to her parents, had been pleased that her father seemed to like Mila when he disapproved of so many of her other friends. Her parents had to stay together. They had to!

Katie pulled a top off the rack that didn’t look too bad. “What do you think?” She turned and trained her gaze on her mother’s nose. She couldn’t erase the image of her mother sitting so close to the guy that she’d been practically giving him a lap dance. Her parents had never acted that way. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even seen them kiss. Katie wanted to cry.

“Do you like that?” Her mother eyed the top.

Katie sighed and thrust it back on the rounder. “You’re right; it’s ugly.”

“I didn’t say that.” Her mother shook her head.

“You didn’t have to. You have a way of getting your message across without saying a word.”

Her mother sighed. “Let’s go somewhere quiet to talk. I don’t like to see you so upset.”

“I’m not upset. It’s just a shirt.”

“Katie.” Her mother’s voice turned firm. “We need to discuss…Lon.”

At the mention of his name, Katie’s hand froze on another ugly shirt as an epiphany flashed like a rocket flare. “Oh. My. God!” She whipped around to gape at her mother. “That condom was yours!” Her voice rose. “You had sex with the neighbors’ son in the swimming pool!”

Despite the blaring music, heads turned. Nearly everyone in the tiny store gawked.

Her mother flushed diaper-rash pink. “For God’s sake, keep your voice down.” Her eyes shifted to the curious onlookers, and she nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, confirming Katie’s suspicions.

“I need some air.” Katie fled the store for the open mall.

Her mother caught her arm several stores down and halted her escape.

“Let’s talk someplace private.” Her mother glanced at the shoppers streaming around them.

“I shouldn’t have come today.” Katie wrenched out of her mother’s grip and took off down the mall. It was bad enough to realize one’s parents had sex with each other—but the idea of them with other people was not something she wanted to contemplate. Ever. Her mother had seemed so, so maternal. And now she was boinking the neighbor boy. Well, neighbor man.

Her mother kept pace beside her. “I’m mystified as to why me dating a younger man bothers you more than your father with a younger woman.”

“It’s not the age thing. Really, it’s not. It’s just—everything.” Katie threw up her hands with frustration. “Why can’t you and Dad work it out?” She risked a glimpse at her mother, and the flicker of pain that flitted across her face caused Katie’s throat to close up. Damn that Mila. And damn her father. Most of all, damn herself. Why had she invited Mila to the frickin’ pool party!

“Because we’ve both moved on.”

“I thought that once Dad got over his midlife crisis, you guys would reunite.” She’d hoped, desperately.

Her mother shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. I’m so sorry you’ve been hurt by this.”

Katie scurried down the mall as if a small animal nipped at her ankles, and Dana expelled her breath and sank onto a bench, needled by maternal guilt. During all the divorce proceedings, the one thing Dana had felt confident about was that Katie would be okay; she was old enough to be unaffected by the upheaval. Up until now, she had acted like she’d taken the divorce in stride.

Why hadn’t she noticed her daughter was suffering? She should have been more attuned, shouldn’t have taken her daughter’s reassurances at face value.

As much as Dana wanted to, she couldn’t blame Roger completely. They were both at fault. If they’d had the love, the trust, the chemistry—if they’d been able to fill each other’s needs—he wouldn’t have sought companionship elsewhere. Roger, in his own screwed-up way, had tried to improve his lot in life, while she had been content to drift along in a marriage that offered only mild satisfaction at best and often not even that.

At what point had she decided settling was acceptable? Dana couldn’t remember.

Even if by some infinitesimal chance Roger wanted to reconcile, Dana no longer wanted to be his wife. Although they’d been friends, lovers, and spouses, the truth of the matter was they should have stopped at friendship. Lon had shown her that. The taste of ecstasy she’d experienced under his hands, his mouth, his cock—with his wicked little toys—had shown her she could never be happy in a bland relationship.

She’d have to find another way to make things right with her daughter.

Roger was Katie’s father, and Dana would continue to love him in a friend sort of way, but she wasn’t
in
love with him, wasn’t pussy-drenchingly attracted to him the way she was with Lon. She didn’t know where that relationship would lead, but she was eager to find out.

Dana rose to her feet and headed for home.

Chapter Nine

Dana was giving the once-over to a report for executive management detailing how her public relations department had handled the previous month’s heat-wave crisis when her cell phone went off. She didn’t recognize the caller, but so many people had her number, that was often the case.

“Dana Markus.” She held the cell to her ear as she continued to scroll through the computer screen.

An odd hitching sound echoed through the earpiece, almost like a heavy breather, but higher pitched. She moved her finger over to the Disconnect button. “This is Dana. Hello?”

Hiccoughing, then: “M-M-Missus, I mean D-Dana?”

“Yes. Who is this?” she asked. If she didn’t get a good answer, she would hang up.

“This…this is Mila.”

Dana stiffened. The voice didn’t sound like the Mila she knew, but then, she didn’t speak to Roger’s mistress. Her lips thinned as a ration of old anger resurfaced. She’d rather listen to a heavy breather.

“It’s…it’s—” the girl stuttered, all the while gurgling.

A lightbulb clicked on. “Are you crying?” Dana lifted her finger from the End button.

“Roger had a heart attack.”

“Oh my God!” Dana leaped to her feet, the motion shoving her chair into the wall. Her heart rate doubled, but she forced herself to think, to not overwhelm a distraught Mila with a barrage of questions. Using her best crisis-management voice with a calmness she didn’t feel, she asked, “Where is he?”

“On…on the way to…to the hospital. In an ambulance.”

“Where are
you
?”

“In my car. Driving to the hospital. I’m afraid he’s going to die!” Mila’s voice rose on a crescendo.

A sobbing, talking, driving Mila was an accident waiting to happen. “Take a deep breath. If he’s in the ambulance, the EMTs are taking care of him.” Dana prayed it was true, that they had gotten to Roger in time.

“How do you know he had a heart attack?” Dana closed the file on her computer and switched it off. She grabbed her purse from her desk drawer.

“He collapsed. He’d been feeling sick all morning and said his arm hurt.”

Shit
! An icy rope of fear coiled in Dana’s stomach. She forced herself to take a few deep, calming breaths. It wouldn’t do Roger, Mila, or Dana herself any good if she unraveled. “Where are they taking him?”

“Creek’s Crossing H-h-h-hospital Medical Center.” Mila’s sobs came harder.

Creek’s Crossing had an excellent cardiac care center. Or so Dana had heard. She’d find out now if that was true.

“I’ll meet you there. Take a deep breath, Mila,” Dana ordered in an even tone. She heard the girl inhale and exhale. “Again.” As much as she loathed her ex-husband’s girlfriend, she empathized with her panic; it clawed at the edges of her own composure. As young as she was, Mila didn’t have the resiliency honed by experience to handle an emergency like this.

At the thought of Mila’s youth, Dana remembered her daughter. “Did you call anyone else? Katie?” she asked.

“Just you. And 9-1-1.”

“Okay. Keep breathing. I’ll be at the hospital in a few minutes.” Dana ended the call and rang Katie’s cell. Dana swore at the sound of voice mail. Katie was probably at work and was unable to take calls, but Dana couldn’t leave a message about Roger.

“Katie, it’s important. Call me immediately. Please,” she said.

Dana buzzed her administrative assistant, delivered a brief rundown, instructed her to notify her staff and Claire, and dashed out of the office.

She beat Mila to the hospital, checked in at reception, and learned Roger had arrived moments before. Dana signed the treatment consent form and gave the hospital Roger’s insurance information. She’d just taken a seat in the waiting area when Mila ran in.

Her reddened eyes and nose appeared prominent against her ashen face, and she clutched a handful of sodden tissues. Her arms and legs jerked, and her gaze darted around the ER lobby. Dana could see wheels spinning in Mila’s head as she tried to figure out what to do.

“Mila!” Dana stood up.

The girl’s face sagged with relief, and she rushed over. “Is he okay?” Mila asked.

Having her cheating ex-husband’s bimbette seek reassurance and answers from her heightened the surrealism. “I don’t know anything yet.” Dana touched Mila’s arm. “Why don’t you sit?” she suggested before the trembling girl toppled over. How even more unreal that Dana would comfort the bimbette who’d capsized her marriage.

Mila collapsed onto a padded hospital chair, and Dana took the adjacent seat. “I just got here. I filled out the admissions paperwork. Be prepared to wait.” Behind closed doors, hospital staff might have been operating at a hare’s sprint, but to family members hovering outside, time crept slower than a lame tortoise.

“Can you tell me again what happened?” Dana spoke quietly. She didn’t want to disturb Mila’s fragile control, but she needed details.