Where There's Smoke (21 page)
"It tore me up.” Doubly so, seeing how it hurt Lauren. “I'd see them and hate them for what they were doing. And I'd see my mom so happy, because she didn't know what my dad and her friend were really like."
"She won't—she won't tell my dad, will she?"
"No, I don't think so.” He pulled a paper towel off the roll and handed it to her. Of course, Lauren was worried about her father. She would take care of herself later. That was what she always did. “She wouldn't tell us, Rey or me or my sisters. Why would she tell your dad?"
"Because she's Sandra and she wouldn't want you to think badly of your dad. I doubt she'll care if Mitch thinks badly of his wife."
"Or of his best friend,” he said, considering. “But look, if she tells, it won't be over our heads anymore. It won't be a secret."
"And our families will be destroyed."
He brushed her hair back, unable to stop himself. “They already are. They just don't know yet."
Lauren awoke slowly, her legs twisted in the sheets. She squinted against the light glowing through the west facing window, reflecting off the building next door. She lifted her aching head from the pillow with some effort. With a jolt that rivaled caffeine, she realized where she was.
Seth's bed.
Last night flooded back though her hungover mind. She'd stayed at Seth's, drinking, commiserating, too miserable to leave, too miserable to be alone. They'd talked like they used to, exploring every aspect, every excuse for their parents’ illicit relationship, ultimately returning to the defense of the wronged parents.
She couldn't remember when the talking had stopped and the lovemaking began, but it was a conscious decision, not a whoops-my-clothes-fell-off-look-what-I-found situation. Both times had been very deliberate and thorough.
She almost smiled as she stretched experimentally, breathing in his scent on the sheets. Now more than ever she and Seth could never stay together, but being here seemed right for right now. Realization hit her. She hadn't told Seth she stopped taking The Pill after they broke up. Just what the families needed, a grandchild to bind Valerie and Oscar together for eternity.
She didn't really think there was any danger of pregnancy, so she shouldn't mention it to Seth, even in passing. The boy might combust; he was wound so tight. Even the bottle of bourbon they'd nearly demolished hadn't relaxed him, and making love only wound him tighter. He'd tossed and turned all night, which explained the state of the sheets and his absence. She couldn't hear him in the apartment, either.
She pulled the sheet up and looked around the bed, saw only her T-shirt, none of his clothes. Had he gone to work?
Work! She looked at the digital alarm clock, her heart pounding. Nine thirty—she was an hour late! She dove for the phone, winced at the volume of the dial tone and punched in the number of her supervisor. “Mrs. Dixon, I'm so sorry! I'm running behind, I forgot to set my alarm. I'll be there within the hour."
"Who is this?"
Lauren frowned. Wasn't she missed? “Lauren Stokes."
"Lauren, your father called a few hours ago, said you were under the weather and wouldn't be coming in today."
"My father?"
"I thought it was a little odd, but yes. He said you had a rough night and needed a day off."
"My father,” she repeated as she realized who'd impersonated Mitch.
"Yes, so don't worry. I gave you a personal day."
Lauren thanked Mrs. Dixon and hung up. So Seth had arranged for her to have the day off. But where was he?
She made her way to the bathroom and realized what had chased him off. The combination of tears and sleep left rims and streaks of black makeup around her eyes and down her cheeks. She looked like a blonde Alice Cooper. She would have bolted, too, if she'd had to wake up to this.
She showered and dressed in the same clothes except for the underwear she found left behind in “her” drawer. Good thing he hadn't cleaned out that drawer yet.
Seth walked in while she bent at the waist to blow her hair dry. She jumped a foot seeing his reflection through the fall of her hair. The dryer dropped to the sink with a clatter.
He reached around to unplug it and looked at her in the mirror. Lovely. He'd found a way to distance himself even in the tiny bathroom. The awkward moment was made more so given their history, and now the history of their parents. What did she expect him to do, take her in his arms and kiss her as he had last night?
"How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.
"All right, now that I've had a shower and called in sick. Thanks, Dad."
He gave a small smile. “Have to take care of my girl."
"Yeah, since you did this to me in the first place. When did you start drinking bourbon?"
He blew out a laugh through his nose. “Last night."
When she looked closer—still in the mirror, since she didn't have the nerve to turn around—she saw the fine red lines in his eyes, the bags beneath that broadcast his sleepless night. She turned then, reached out a compassionate hand to him, not quite touching him. “Why don't you go back to bed?"
He shook his head and moved away from her outstretched hand, all traces of humor gone. “I can't sleep."
"What are you going to do?"
He turned to walk out. “I don't know. Come on. I got breakfast."
Her stomach did a little gymnastic move at the mention of food. “What?"
"Hamburgers."
"Ugh. It's not even ten."
"Yeah, that's what took me so long, finding a place to make burgers. I thought the carbs and proteins would help sober us up. Did you get sick?"
"Not till you started talking about food. I have an awful headache, though."
This time Seth's grin was full fledged. He held the blow dryer at her like a gun. “Beauty first, though, huh?"
She scowled and snatched the appliance back before closing the door in his face.
Water was best for her hangover but she just couldn't swallow it. She hunted down some frozen juice in the back of the freezer, took a couple of bites of the concentrate before mixing it up. By the time she sat down to her Whataburger, Seth had joined her.
They'd been friends too long. Lauren couldn't pussyfoot around the elephant in the kitchen. “So what was last night?” she asked, unwrapping the burger.
"Which part?"
"Well, the getting drunk part was pretty self explanatory.” She reached for the ketchup. “I'm talking about the sex part. That didn't just grow out of the drunk part, did it?"
"No, I pretty much wanted to make love to you the minute you walked in."
"So are we back to the friends-who-have-sex bit, or was last night just an anomaly?"
He sat back. “I don't know. I haven't thought that far into the future."
"Well, it's obvious we don't have one. I mean, with two of our parents in an adulterous relationship with each other, I can't imagine the fun family get-togethers. And you and I haven't managed to be friends since sleeping together."
He waved a fry around like a magic wand. “But now we understand why we can't be together, not only because of your mom and my dad, but because I'm too much like my dad."
She leaned on the table and looked at him. Now it all came together. “You think you can't be faithful to someone because your dad can't."
"Sure. I mean, my mom's the best. Nothing against your mom, but if my dad can't be faithful to someone like my mom, how can I be faithful to anyone?"
"I see your logic but I think it's flawed.” She dunked a handful of fries into a blob of ketchup.
"How?"
"Well, okay. Your mom is the greatest at being a mom. For one thing, we don't really see the wife side of her. She could be so busy doing the mom thing that she doesn't have time for the wife thing.” She held out a hand when he shifted and opened his mouth to protest. “She's probably just as wonderful as a wife. I'm just saying there's more to the story than we know."
He shrugged uncomfortably. “Maybe."
"Point two. You're not like your dad. Other than being a man and a firefighter, you're the most un-Oscar-like person I know."
"You forget the screwing around part."
"I'll get to that. Your dad isn't as laid back as you. He's much more serious about his job and family."
Seth swirled his juice glass in a puddle of condensation on the laminate table. “He's older and has to be."
"Maybe. But I don't see Oscar with a lot of interests outside his job and family like you have."
"Okay, maybe so. But the screwing around part?"
"Has my mother been faithful to my father?"
He studied the pattern he'd created on the table. “No."
"Am I going to fool around on my husband because my mother screwed around on my father?"
He looked up, his expression stubborn. “You don't know that you won't."
Ow. She pushed back from the table, gripped the edge till it dug into her palms. “You know me better than anyone else. Do you really believe that?"
He set his jaw. “I don't know. How can we know?"
She blew out an exasperated breath. “We're different people than our parents, Seth. I am no more my mother than you are your father."
"I've been following in his footsteps for years. I've never been able to get involved with someone without wondering if someone better was out there."
Double ow. She rubbed a hand over her breastbone. Even with her, he'd been looking elsewhere? Did he even realize what he'd said? Could she fight for this if that was really how he felt?
"All right,” she said softly, standing. She needed to get out of here, go somewhere quiet and listen to her heart break. “You know, you're right. You're following in your father's footsteps, but it's your choice to do it. You've colored all your adult relationships with the same brush. You don't think you could be faithful to anyone because your father can't be. From the beginning of each relationship, you saw it as doomed. Pretty convenient, don't you think?"
He leaned forward, dropping his arms to the table with a thunk. “You're twisting it—"
She shook her head, everything crystal clear now. “No, I'm not. I'm stating it plainly. You never gave any relationship a chance. You began each one knowing you would end it. From that point of view, your father is a better man than you. At least he had hope his relationships would last.” She headed into the living room in search of her purse.
Seth followed. “You'd like it if it was true, wouldn't you?” His voice was a low rumble, unlike any tone she'd ever heard from him, like it came from a place of great pain.
She turned and saw something frightening flash in his eyes. What had she awakened? He paced the small living room in controlled strides, like a panther struggling for discipline before it struck its prey. “If you could just figure me out, everything could just go back to the way it was,” he said. “Everything could be the same and your little world wouldn't be this twisted place, right? You hate change, Lauren, you fear it. The reason you think you love me is because I'm safe, I'm familiar. God forbid you risk anything, especially your heart. That's why you never became a firefighter, Lauren. You don't know how to risk anything."
She was nose to nose with him before she knew it, trembling with anger and pain. She was dizzy with it. The rolling of her stomach had nothing to do with last night's whiskey. She and Seth had traded barbs for years and she thought she'd developed some tough skin, but nothing ever hit so close to the bone.
"No, see, there you're wrong, Seth. I risked everything by sleeping with you. You're the one who will risk your life in a fire, but not your heart to your best friend. Some kind of hero that makes you."
She cast about for her keys, blinded by tears, desperate to get away. She scrambled for the door with as much grace as she could muster, flung it open, desperate for escape. She tried to slam the door as an exclamation point, but it bounced back open. She didn't turn to try again.
She sat in the car a long moment, trying to gather the wits to drive. She was surprised the pain she felt didn't manifest itself on her body.
He hadn't come after her. In the time she sat there calming herself, he didn't so much as close the door. Knowing he didn't regret his words hurt more than the words themselves.
Nausea welled, and she was torn between rage and a bone-deep grief. Everything had changed. She could never turn back and feel the same as yesterday. Everything she believed in was gone. Only her father remained constant and she couldn't face him, not knowing what she knew.
Seth was right about that. She hated change, hated the way things spiraled out of control. Why couldn't things remain as they had been? Everything had been fine, hadn't it? Even if it hadn't, her ignorance of Seth's true feelings was preferable to this.
Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much? Seth couldn't think about the way he and Lauren ended things, even though it was all for the best. Both families needed a clean break. He couldn't hurt his family by remaining friends with her.
He dragged himself off the ladder truck as it pulled into the station after a hell of a fire. He couldn't wait to shower the stench off and go home. He'd taken to the habit of keeping the windows shut tight so the place resembled nothing so much as a tomb. Ironic he'd accused Lauren of hating change, yet he had done nothing the past weeks but work and go home.
He took off his hat and found himself face to face with Captain Stokes. He'd managed to avoid Lauren's father by keeping busy, but it looked like his reprieve was up. “Hit the showers, Seth, and report to my office before you head out,” the older man said in a tone that brooked no dissent.
The shower Seth had anticipated turned to a rushed, nerve wracked affair, something he had to get through before facing his former lover's irate father downstairs.
He waited in the doorway for an invitation. He was pretty sure Captain Stokes knew he stood there, yet he continued to shuffle papers on the desk, just to make Seth sweat.
"Come in and close the door,” Mitch said finally, without looking up.