Читать книгу The Object Of Love - Sharon Cullars - Страница 11

“Thought I was seeing a ghost. So, why’re you here?” He hadn’t expected the hostility. But the look on Suzanne’s face was hardly welcoming as she stood on her porch glaring at him. He hadn’t even had time to get off his bike and say hello before she stormed out of her door, her arms crossed, posture defiant.

“Why’re you so pissed? I just dropped by to say hi.”

“OK, so say it and go already. Shouldn’t be hard. You’re used to doing that.”

Her red hair had been cut and was just a scattering of waves and curls around her face. He’d never thought he’d see the day when she would get rid of that curly mane that used to become a curtain in the wind. It had been her signature. The babe with the hair. She used to wrap him in it, entangle him while they were wrapped around each other, warm blue eyes laughing at him. With him.

Those eyes weren’t laughing now. Nowhere near it. Were as cold as the wind cutting through his wool coat.

“So I’m supposed to feel guilty about moving out of state.”

“No, you asshole! You’re supposed to feel guilty about not saying shit about it to me. Not even one fucking good-bye.”

“There were circumstances…”

“Fuck your circumstances! There’s a little invention called the phone or haven’t you heard? You shoulda called instead of cutting out and leaving me to…well, it doesn’t matter, anyway. Nothing about you matters in my life anymore, Sean, so I don’t know why you’re here now.”

“Cal died.”

The stone look wavered a bit. “Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry…for his mother, at least.”

He caught the pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

He let it go. “Anyway, I came back for the funeral.”

“Why? It wasn’t like you and Cal were still tight. As a matter of fact, he used to talk trash about you every chance he got. The guy practically hated you.”

Sean unstraddled the bike, parked it at the curb. He walked the path to the first step, keeping his stride casual, but feeling anything but. This whole homecoming was turning out to be a bust. Seems he’d left more than enough bad blood behind.

“I had to pay my respects. Nothing wrong with that.”

Her laugh was bitter. “That’s more than Cal woulda done for you. Don’t know what you did to piss him off, but it musta been something major.”

Sean knew she was waiting for him to clue her in. She was standing in nothing more than a red jersey and jeans, seemingly oblivious to the cold wind whipping her now-small curls into a frenzy. He had to push his own hair out of his face. Suzanne waited for something, anything. But there was nothing he could give her.

She must have realized this because she changed the subject. “That your old bike? Thought you gave it to Sam.”

Sean nodded. “I did. I’m just borrowing it while I’m in town. He’s got a new Harley, anyway.”

“Yeah, looks like it’s seen better days. Almost ready for the scrap. So, why did you stop by, Sean?”

“Maybe I was hoping that time might have made it easier…”

“Easier for what? For you to slink back and apologize? Uhn-uhn, no way. You don’t know the hell I had to go through because of you.”

“What hell? What’re you talking about?”

She stared hard, then her features gave way to a normal expression, conceding to some internal resolution, leaving him just to look and wonder what she was keeping from him.

“Look, tell me what I did wrong other than leave town? I know I should’ve called, but you don’t know what was going on…There just wasn’t time.”

She gave her head a quick shake.

“Can I come in?”

“For what?”

“To talk, catch up on what’s been going on?”

“OK, Sean, here’s a quick summary of what’s been going on with me. For starters, I got pregnant. Yeah, that’s right. But not to worry, ’cause I also got an abortion. Of course, I had to get on antidepressants after that. And right now, I’m trying to get a nursing degree so that I can finally move out of my father’s house. Oh, and by the way, the baby was yours. But, hey, don’t worry. It’s all good now. So, I don’t need anything from you. Not anymore. So what’s been up with you?”

The rush of words slapped him like a physical blow. There was no ducking them, even if he had seen them coming. But how could he have known? They’d always used a condom. How the hell?

“How…when?” the questions stumbled from him, earning him another glare of derision.

“Does it matter?”

“Tell me, dammit!”

He hadn’t meant to snap, but shit, she was skewering him for something he hadn’t even known about.

“I found out about a month after you sneaked out of town. Of course, I couldn’t tell my dad. He woulda just called me stupid. And I was stupid…”

“But we used protection…”

“Obviously it didn’t work at least one of the times we got together. Outside of Cheryl, there was no one else I could turn to.”

At Cheryl’s name, Sean felt his back stiffen. The thought that Cheryl Lansky might have had any say about the existence of his child…”

“She the one who told you to get the abortion?”

“So, what if she did? It’s not like you were around to help make the decision. Dammit, Sean, I couldn’t afford to have a baby. At least Cheryl was there to help me see what I had to do.”

“She get you the drugs, too?” Good ole Cheryl, who’d turned him on to heroin and who knew ways to get a whole pharmacy. Who had tried on several occasions to seduce him behind Suzanne’s back, and who, no doubt, had run his name into the ground when he was away because he’d had the audacity to say no.

Suzanne’s silence answered the question. No legitimate doctor would prescribe antidepressants to a teenager, at least not without her father’s consent. And if she’d kept her pregnancy a secret from her father, then she would have had a hard time explaining why she’d need pills. Of course, the doctor could have been part of Cheryl’s network of “favor-givers.” Sean had no illusions what favors Cheryl gave in payment.

“You don’t have any right to judge.”

“No right, huh? I guess not. It was my baby, after all…”

“But you weren’t here.” She crossed her arms again, daring him.

No, he hadn’t been here. Even though they were broken up at the time he left, he had been responsible for a life. A life he might have been able to save had he not had to leave. His absence had cost him a child he hadn’t even known about. The thought caused his stomach to churn with anger and sadness.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“And no reason for you being here now.”

He stared at her for a few seconds. She was aged beyond the few years he had been gone. Her soul was hardened, and he hated that he was the cause. But at least it was good she was trying to make a future for herself so that her life wasn’t totally derailed. Maybe one day she would be able to forgive him. Maybe one day he might forgive himself.

“I guess you’re right,” he said solemnly, softly. He caught a flicker, a softening in her expression. But he didn’t stay around to see whether he was mistaken or not. He got on his bike, drove off, knowing that she was still standing on the porch, watching his receding back. Watching him leave her life again for the second time.

Lacey raked up the strewn carcasses of twigs, rose petals, and leaves. She hadn’t realized she’d been serious about getting rid of the rose bushes. But after the incident in the living room, she’d escaped to the back porch, and the blood-red of those beautiful petals just mocked her confusion and sadness. She’d retrieved the shears from the basement and had set about doing something constructive. At least, it had seemed so at the time. But destruction was never constructive; in another few weeks, she would regret undoing years of care and nurturing, would miss the lovely scent. She was going to have to rake up this mess, but right now she was too tired.

She walked back into the kitchen, wondering if Sean was still in his room. Or rather, the guest room. Before, when he’d stayed over nights, he’d slept in the extra bed in Cal’s room. It seemed strange that he was all grown up now. That he was here without Cal.

That she’d been willing to let him kiss her.

No, she wasn’t going to go there.

She left the shears on the counter, walked through the kitchen into the foyer. Checked the living room but he wasn’t there.

She spotted the empty bottle from last night, winced at the memory of her drunkenness. The CDs were neatly stacked on the table’s edge. Probably Sean’s doing.

The doorbell rang, breaking into her thoughts. She went to the door and found Raymond standing there with a grin, a covered picnic basket in his left hand.

“Baked up a batch of blackberry muffins. Made a few too many for myself. Thought you might want something sweet.”

She opened the screen door. “Thank you, Ray. Come on in.” Of course, she had to invite him in even though she didn’t feel like company, and she especially didn’t feel like looking into Ray’s moon eyes. Although hopefully the circumstances would temper his courting.

She settled him on the living room couch and took the basket into the kitchen. He said yes to an offer of water, and she brought back a long, chilled glass, handed it to him. One of his fingers grazed hers and his smile brightened. She took the leather chair a comfortable distance away.

“How’re you doing today, Lacey? Any better?”

“Yes, better. I mean, I’m getting there. It’ll take some getting used to.”

Ray nodded. “I know what you mean. When June passed, I wandered around the house, entirely lost. I mean, it’s a good-sized house, but not too big, you know. Yet after she was gone, it seemed so…enormous…with me being by myself. Funny thing, though, the rooms themselves seemed smaller, like without June’s life in ’em, they’d shrunk a little. I don’t know if I’m explaining this right. It was just that nothing…nothing was the same without her. Know what I mean?”

Lacey knew exactly what he meant. When Darryl died, things in the house seemed askew, out of place. The bed was too large, rooms too quiet. The quiet had taken on a “loudness” that blared through the house. It was preternatural, unsettling. Eventually, she had found an equilibrium with her home again, but it had taken a while. With Calvin gone now, the house was a stranger again. And she was a stranger existing within its walls, getting through days and nights, counting down to when she would feel “normal” once more…if she ever would.

“I stopped trying to figure out the whys of anything,” he said. “Some things don’t make sense and never will. Like how fast June’s cancer took her away. She hardly had time between that first pain in her stomach and the doctor saying she only had a few months. Actually, it was only a matter of weeks. And with Calvin, well, you wonder why someone so young is gone, especially when everything was coming his way. He would have made the majors. I truly believe that.”

Lacey didn’t have to figure out why her son died. The police report had laid it out very clearly to her: Head-on crash, driving south in the northbound lane. Witnesses were very unanimous that Calvin had been the car in the wrong. An autopsy had at least cleared him of any intoxication or drug use, but that was cold comfort.

“Yes, he would have made it. If only he hadn’t…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Raymond diverted his eyes. Calvin’s fault wasn’t a secret. Still, no one voiced their disbelief that someone supposedly so smart had done something so mind-bogglingly stupid. At least, not in front of her. Whenever she thought about it, she could feel the strains of anger reverberating. Her son was gone because of his own senseless action. Thankfully, the other driver had survived. But barely.

Raymond took a sip of water. She saw him peering at her over the rim of the glass, drinking in her face. She knew he was calculating the minutes he would stay, the days he would visit, how soon her loneliness would make her open up, make her accessible. He was lonely, too—that much she understood. But mutual loneliness was a pitiful reason to let someone into your life, into your bed, with so little in common. As kind as Ray was, there was nothing that pulled her to him.

Maybe she was superficial, but there should at least be some attraction between the man and woman. She couldn’t even begin to imagine Ray touching her intimately. But then again, it had been a long time since she had imagined any man touching her.

There hadn’t been anyone since Darryl. And after such a long drought, it was hard to remember what it was like to even thirst for it. Hunger for it.

She heard a knock at the front door. She rose, wondering why her mother didn’t just ring the bell. Or maybe it was a Jehovah’s Witness or someone selling something.

She opened the door to find Sean standing on the porch. She blinked; she’d thought he was upstairs, and for a second she was confused.

“I don’t have a key,” he said matter-of-factly. His hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets, his hair tossed in his eyes. He looked as sad as he had on many occasions when he’d come to her front porch, seeking shelter in her home from things he never spoke of. That Joan never alluded to.

Without a word, she opened the door to let him in, not questioning why he had left without saying anything. He paused in the foyer for a second, caught sight of Ray, and headed up the stairs.

When she came back to the living room, she could tell by Ray’s confused expression that he had seen Sean.

“Isn’t that the Logan boy? The one who used to hang out with Calvin?”

Lacey didn’t understand why she suddenly felt defensive, why an innocent situation no longer seemed so.

“He came in for Cal’s funeral. He won’t be staying long.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. That’s nice of you to let him stay here.” She heard the catch in his voice, the question, the tiny speck of suspicion. She didn’t need any of it. She stood by the sofa, looking down at him.

“Thanks for stopping by, Ray. I really appreciate the visit. And thanks again for the muffins.”

He sat for a second, not quickly picking up on the subtle message that he was being kicked out…albeit graciously. He could take his suspicions home with him, stew over them, have them for dinner.

When he stood, he took the opportunity to give her cheek a quick peck. “I’ll be back by tomorrow. I promise you won’t have to go through this alone.”

He headed to the door, leaving her speechless in his wake. Under normal circumstances, she would have called him out on his nerve. She was going to have to put a stop to this soon. Although today wasn’t the day. She followed him to the foyer, opened the door and stood out of pecking distance.

He hesitated at the door. “Well, then…good-bye.”

She breathed a sigh after she shut the door.

“I remember him.”

Sean’s voice made her jump. She hadn’t seen him standing on the stairs. How long had he been there?

He came down the remaining steps and stood in front of her. She still had to get used to his height.

“You should remember him. He lives next door.”

“He was always getting at me and Cal about the noise we made when we played ball out back. He always seemed so…old.”

“Well, he’s probably just a few years older than me.”

“That’s not the type of ‘old’ I mean. There’s old like in years, and then there’s the type of old that makes you wonder if the person was ever young at all. Old-timey and…”

“Sean, I’m not going to stand here and listen to you bad-mouth a nice man.”

“So, you like him?” The stress on “like” made the question personal. His eyebrow was raised; the expression made him appear older. She could see the contours he would grow into in just a few years. His was the type of face that would age well, would still have young women fawning when he was well into his forties, fifties. Life was definitely too fair to the male species.

“Of course I like him. He’s a very decent man.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She knew this, even as she answered his question. And why was she even answering? Who she liked was none of his business.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out?” She assumed her mama-hen voice she often used with Calvin.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Trust me, Sean. Being courteous is no bother. Next time, just let me know, OK? I don’t want to think you’re safe upstairs, then find out something’s happened to you.”

He smiled at that. “I’m glad you still care.”

“I’ve always cared, Sean. You know that.”

“Sometimes I did. Other times…I got the feeling that it was better I wasn’t around. Like you thought I might be a bad influence on Cal.”

She was a little startled at how well he had read her those years ago. “If I’d really thought you were a bad influence, I wouldn’t have let you near Calvin.” Again the lying.

He lost the smile. “Not that it would have stopped Cal. He always found a way to do what he wanted to do.”

She stiffened. “You got something to say to me about Cal, Sean?”

That struck him dumb. After a long moment, he simply shook his head.

She didn’t like half-assed allusions; they made her angry. No one—least of all, Sean—would tell her about her son. She hadn’t worn blinders these many years. Calvin had had his faults, but he hadn’t been a bad kid. If anyone had been on a slippery slope downward, it was Sean. And he had the nerve to come in this house and make snide remarks about her son?

Instinctively, she wanted to kick him out. To tell him to go back to the hotel, back to Indiana.

Instead, she took a deep breath. “I’m going to make lunch soon. And my mother’s coming over. If you have other plans, let me know. Otherwise, you can join us.”

She saw him hesitate. “What’re you making?”

“I’m frying up some catfish. My mother usually eats her heavier meals at lunch.”

“Yeah, my mom tried that a few times, too. Didn’t work, though…with her weight, I mean.”

Back on safer territory, she let her resentment ebb away. “So, are you staying?”

“Do you want me to stay?” He seemed to now have a habit of capturing her eyes, not letting go.

She knew he was asking about more than lunch. “Yes, I want you to stay.”

His smile was back, wider this time. “I guess I’ll stay, then.”

The smile made his lips come into focus. They were perfectly shaped over a firm chin with just the slightest dimple. A matching dimple marked his right cheek.

The memory of his mouth so near her own came unbidden. She pushed it away.

“OK, then make yourself useful. You can do the salad while I fry up the fish.”

“Wouldn’t baked fish be healthier?” he asked with a laugh as they walked to the kitchen.

“Smart-ass,” she said. Then smiled.