Willows, Jennifer - Lust for Life [The Moreland Brothers 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) (24 page)

“Basically.”

“Deven, do you think she loves you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“So what’s the problem? Just go and get her.”

“She took her house keys, gave me mine back. Plus, she’s mad about the fact I talked to her mom. Add that to the fact that I am not happy that she had a bad childhood, one that she won’t even speak to me about. That equals big problems.”

“Dev, I’m going to lay it on you. Humans tie their identities to their parents, through watching their behaviors and using what they see to pattern their adult selves. Either children follow their parents’ behaviors or become the antithesis of what they learned. If a child learns from an adult’s mistakes, usually they are ashamed. Either of themselves or of the parent. Plus, children of dysfunctional families usually tie their parents with their own self-esteem.”

“Okay, I got that, but what are you trying to tell me?”

“Basically she broke up with you because she was ashamed that you got a good whiff of her parentage. More than likely she lashed out before you could do what she expected.”

Deven stopped breathing. Still for long moments, Jen watched him process what she said.

“Well, damn, I never thought about it like that.”

“Think about it, Dev. How would you feel if the roles were reversed? What if your parents were people that you felt ashamed of? Or disgusted with? And you had to watch the person you love get an up close look at skeletons you would rather bury six feet deep underground.”

He never thought about it. He was a fortunate man, who came from much and had a whole, fully functional family. Growing up was idyllic, and he never went hungry or had fear for his well-being. But Charli had. No wonder she kept silent about the bulk of her childhood. He had some memories she’d share with him, but all were after she lived with Sharon and Makenzie. She didn’t share with him why she lived with Sharon and with the way the wind blew she probably wouldn’t have told him either.

“Deven, it’s okay. You just have to make concessions for her. Understand that she isn’t going to lay her soul bare after years of hiding herself from others. She probably hasn’t told a single soul everything either. It’s hard for an average person to hold themselves up to the scrutiny of their loved ones. Let alone someone who has had to survive challenges and uncertainty during their formative years.”

Deven took her words to heart and decided he would win Charli back. No matter what it took. If anyone needed love, it was his woman.

Finished analyzing, Jen offered snacks.

“Deven, Charyn, y’all hungry? I have some really good crab salad and a pitcher of tea. Maybe I could rustle up some shortbread for you to go with it.”

Deven still couldn’t handle the idea of eating. His stomach complained at the mere mention of food.

“No thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

But Charyn, being the hungry individual he was, looked up from the television and said, “I want some Aunt Jen.”

Deven laughed. Charyn could eat any time of day no matter what was going on around him. Jen just smiled at Charyn, the look of a woman used to feeding an extra hungry man.

When Geraldine came out from the room, she looked so much like Charli it twisted the knife of their separation deeper in his gut. Only the older version was extremely frail and needed to gain a few pounds. She had long hair, and now that it was clean, Deven saw the mass hung past her hips. There was a shock of salt in the color, right at the front. The clothes fit her, although not well as they were slightly too big. But hopefully, by the time she left the rehab, she would have gained some weight. The drugs made her face appear older than the mid-forties that she told Deven yesterday, and she looked about ten years older. But he could see where his wife got her pixie features and figure, the too-wide eyes, generous mouth.

He gave the freshly showered woman a hug and took her to the small sitting room where Jen had set up a small brunch for her guests. There was the promised crab salad, small sandwiches with ham and cheese, and a pitcher of tea. Geraldine, looking surprised to see the food offered to her and as if she had forgotten how to eat, sat down. Deven could see she was scared to touch the food, and made a plate with everything on it, giving it to her. Geraldine took the platter and nibbled on a piece of cheese.

“Geraldine, if it’s okay, I would like to talk to you when we finish eating. I want to see what you would like to do after you conquer your addiction. That way we can get you settled after we finish the some of the hard part.”

“I think I would like that.”

Chapter Twelve:

No Ass, Gas, or Grass…But Still Rode for Free

Charli was poring over her books, trying to determine what she could cut from her laundry list of needs for the restaurant. She was supposed to sign the papers for the loan, and she planned to do that Monday. But she wasn’t 100 percent sure if she wanted to take the offer or not. Maybe she needed to look at another lender. She didn’t want to short the venture by being too hasty. For sure, she didn’t want to use the house or her new restaurant as collateral, as they were paid off, and if anything happened... Charli shook her head at the negative thought. She wasn’t going to think like that. She was going to succeed. Deven told her that, and he never lied to her.

Charli spent her morning pacing her house, thinking what she could do, about everything. Deven, the restaurant, the loan, the lot were a jumbled mass in her brain. Disgusted with herself, Charli decided to cook something. There was nothing else to do, but if she stopped moving, Charli knew she’d drown in the thoughts plaguing her. Makenzie was resting, and as much as she loved her best friend, Charli needed a moment to herself.

It was approaching lunch time, and Charli was feeling a bit hungry. She puttered around and unearthed the makings for a chicken potpie. That would give her something to busy herself with, and supply a full dinner for tonight. But for the interim, she felt like having something simple. Charli made the decision to pull out a package of bologna, fry a slice or two and have a sandwich and chips. When the bologna was crisp and dark on both sides, Charli quickly plated the food and sat everything at the table.

She walked back to her bedroom, with the intent on checking on Makenzie. But her home girl was awake and stretching out her cramped muscles.

“Mmmm, Charli, I smell fried bologna. You make sandwiches?”

“Yeah, come and have some.”

The pair ate at the small table in the kitchen, the enjoyment of the Spartan meal evident in the smiles on both their faces.

When they finished, Makenzie was back, and ready for answers.

“Charli, what happened between you and Deven?” Charli knew that this was coming. Makenzie was worse than a dog with a bone.

“Yesterday I went to the bank for a loan meeting about the restaurant. Everything was good, or so I thought. When I came back
she
was in my house, talking to Deven, and I don’t even know how long she was here. Or what she told him. If I wanted to dig into my past with him, I would have already. If I wanted him to see my personal hell, I would have shown him. But I didn’t, Mak. Then he had the nerve to fix his lips to defend her. Like she had a valid excuse. Mak, you can’t explain away the first ten years. Hell, even the last twenty.”

“You have a right to feel that way, but to take it out on the man you love... Don’t do it to yourself, Charli. You are just letting everything in the past destroy your future. Now I’m not saying you’re wrong to have issues with your mom. But to push away the man you love? Not a smart move.”

“You didn’t see the look on his face. Girl, he felt sorry for me. I just did us both a favor. This way he didn’t have to dump me and feel any guilt about it.”

“Well, if that’s the case…How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“I can see that. You were never a sound sleeper, but it seems like you had gotten over that lately.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too.” Charli knew why. It was Deven’s fault. It was difficult to rest when one had become acclimated to not sleeping alone. Deven was the only man she had slept with overnight, and going to bed by herself at night sucked. She just didn’t realize how dependent she was on him for a good night’s rest.

Everything about Deven felt so good. His scent made her tingle. His size thrilled her. His voice in the dark caressed her. His strength made her feel safe. God, she missed him. But Mak missed one crucial fact. Deven hadn’t called her or attempted to contact her once. If he had, she probably would have folded like a cardhouse in the wind.

“Have you called him?”

“If he wanted to talk to me, he could have called, too. Probably doesn’t want to hear from me anyway.”

“Girl, he spent the entire day getting drunk. Mind you, that was after he drove his car until the batteries died.”

Charli didn’t know how to respond to that. She felt hope, but immediately crushed the fragile blossom as the fledgling emotion arose in her chest. There could be many reasons he got drunk. He could have been disgusted with the fact he had dated her. Deven could have been grossed out when he saw her mom. He could have been grateful that he’d dodged her drama. Anything. When she came to from her ruminations, Mak was still speaking.

“... and you are moping around. You just did your quarterly cleaning spree, and when I got in here, I was light-headed. I’m surprised to find you alive in the midst of all these chemicals floating about.”

“Huh?” Charli didn’t understand where this was all going.

“Girl, you only clean when you’re stressed. I remember when you moved in with us. Do you realize you cleaned for a month straight? I remember Mom said you made her feel like she had a nasty house cause you puttered nonstop.”

Damn, she had forgotten about that. But the reason she cleaned so much was that she had to earn her keep. People didn’t do things on gratis. Like the bumper sticker that said, “Ass, grass, or gas, nobody rides for free.” It wasn’t until later she realized that Sharon loved her, just as she was. She didn’t have to be perfect, only Charli. After that she learned to accept hugs and caring, and how to give them back.

At three, the doorbell rang. Charli was elbow deep in pastry dough, so Mak dashed to the door. When she returned, there was a huge arrangement in her arms. It had to be at least three dozen white tulips.

“I wonder who these are from?” Makenzie asked aloud nonchalantly.

“Girl, they just as likely to be from your husband.”

“Nah, he sends me tiger lilies at the moment.”

“You raggedy honeymooning heffa.”

“That’s you, boo, but I do know I’m looking at this card.” Mak pulled the card from the stem. Charli wasn’t having that and even with her doughy hands snatched the card from her friend. No way was she letting Mak read it first. No telling what he said on it. When Charli opened the heavy card stock, there was one sentence on the bi-folded paper.

Did you enjoy your cake?
She knew what he meant, but Makenzie was goggling over her shoulder.

“Cake? Where’s the cake at?”

“In the fridge.”

“Can I have some?”

“Sure, Mak.”

Makenzie didn’t let grass grow beneath her feet and dug the Aztec lovers cake out of the fridge, and sliced two pieces.

When Mak tasted the cake, she moaned through shut lips and tasted another bite. Charli’s cake was bittersweet and left her cravings unsatisfied. She thought about the ring he baked in the confection, and the taste of the cake seemed metallic, brackish. Almost as if the ring left a reminder that it was there behind.

“Oh god, that was so good. Can I please take home a piece?” Mak looked so hopeful, Charli didn’t want to disappoint her.