G-Men: The Series (56 page)

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Authors: Andrea Smith

BOOK: G-Men: The Series
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It was getting light out. I wondered if my family was up and about yet. I grabbed my purse from his sofa and turned to leave.

He hauled me back to face him. “So, you’re just going to leave without saying goodbye? Damn girl, did you leave my money on the dresser?”

I saw immediately that he was teasing me. He was being playful. He probably thought I felt embarrassed or self-conscious about what had transpired between us.

The truth was, I was fine with it. Still, I couldn’t help giggling at his attempt to look injured.

I stood on my tiptoes and put my free hand around his neck. I kissed him softly on his lips. He kissed me back, his hand reaching over to tousle my hair.

“Merry Christmas, Taz.”

“Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

chapter 16

As luck wouldn’t have it, the whole household was up when I quietly let myself in the front door. Not only that, but they were all perched in various seating positions in the living room, watching Bryce trying to open his Christmas presents. Slate was on the floor beside him, trying to help.

Mom was immediately on her feet, her brow furrowed in anger or concern, possibly a combination of the two.

“My God, Lindsey. We were worried to death about you. The fact that my car was gone was the only reason we hadn’t phoned the police yet.”

My grandmother sat in stony silence as if she was still in a fog. Slate looked up from where he was stretched out on the floor, giving me a knowing look. It was almost as if he knew I’d been up to no good.

“I’m really sorry, Mom. I couldn’t sleep. I’m upset about Granddaddy. I just needed to take a drive, to think about things. Do you realize how much loss I’ve suffered?”

I felt a little guilty about laying that on her, but it was the truth.

Mom had felt relief when my father left her life. I could understand her feeling that way under the circumstances, but she had to realize that for me it was different. He was still my father, no matter what, and for nearly nineteen years, he’d been a pretty damn good one.

“Sweetie, we all feel the loss of your granddaddy, but to just take off like that without telling anyone or leaving a note, it was inconsiderate. We were worried.”

“I’m fine. I just have a lot to deal with right now.”

“We all do, Lindsey. The way to deal with it is to behave maturely. That’s not what you did.”

“I said I was sorry. What more can I say? I’m sorry for the loss of Granddaddy. I’m sorry for the loss of your father, and Grandma’s husband, okay? I lost a father too, you know? I know that doesn’t count with you, but it damn sure counts with me. Am I just supposed to write him off so easily, like you did?”

My voice had risen with each word that spilled out. I was angry. I saw the look of pain in her eyes when I lashed out at her. At that moment, I just didn’t care.

“Lindsey,” Slate said, his tone taking on a warning edge.

I whirled around to look at him. “Lindsey what?” I asked harshly. “This is between my mother and me, Slate. You need to stay out of it.”

He was on his feet in a split-second. I saw Bryce jump as Slate’s voice got loud. “She’s also my wife, dammit! I won’t have you disrespecting her in our home. Do you understand?”

His incredibly blue eyes were flashing with anger. I shrank back from him, knowing that I’d crossed the line. In all honesty, I’d never talked to my mother like that before. I never had reason to, but I still felt it was time I stood my ground with her.

“I apologize, Mom,” I said. “I’m sorry, Grandma.”

I looked over at my grandmother. She still seemed to be in her self-imposed ‘fog’ world. It was if she was oblivious to it all. Maybe it was better for her that way.

I turned and went towards the stairs. “I’m going to bed. Merry Christmas everyone.”

I flew up the stairs to my room. I felt like a teenager that had missed curfew. Maybe I’d acted recklessly in taking off the way I did. Acting reckless was not me. It never had been.

I went into the bathroom upstairs and scrubbed the makeup off my face. My skin had stubble burn in several places from Taz. I smoothed some face cream on to take the sting away.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t look any different than before. The important thing was that I
felt
differently. I owed that to Taz. He’d given me the boost I needed to understand what occurs sexually between a man and a woman.

While, not experienced by a long shot, at least I knew that going into a relationship in the future, I would not be the “bumbling” virgin anymore. I was at least a novice. That gave me some comfort.

I returned to my bedroom and, for the second time in the last several hours, peeled my clothes off. I climbed beneath my sheets and burrowed down under, feeling some sense of relief. I fell into a restful sleep.

There was a soft tapping on my bedroom door.

“Lindsey,” my mom called out. “May I come in?”

I rolled over in bed and saw the clock on my nightstand. It was nearly 2 p.m. I scooted up in my bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Yeah, Mom, come in.”

She came into the room and took a seat on the edge of my bed. I looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?” she asked softly.

I ran my fingers through my hair. It was a fair question. I just wasn’t sure how I could answer it without making her feel unnecessarily guilty, or coming across as a whiny brat.

“A lot of stuff, I guess. Maybe a lot of it has been there for a while. With Granddaddy dying, I don’t know, a lot of stuff has just come to the surface…the finality of things with him and with Daddy.”

“It isn’t as if your father died.”

“He might as well have. Besides, how do we even know that he’s still alive?”

She didn’t say anything. She continued to watch me.

“If he is alive, I mean, how should I feel about that? He chose what he did and how he is living over me. Either way, dead or alive, I’ve lost my father, too. The difference is that we can all grieve for Granddaddy properly. Who in this house, besides me, even feels like grieving for the loss of my father?”

I watched as my mother absorbed what I was saying. She chewed her bottom lip…a sign of worry or stress.

“I understand how you feel, but I can’t lie to you. You’re right. I don’t feel the same way. There are so many things that I’ve never told you about your father. I’ve kept those things to myself because I wouldn’t do anything to tarnish your feelings for him. These things happened long before he deserted us.”

“I appreciate that. As difficult as it is, I’m trying to hold onto the good things that I remember about him and the life that we had together when we were a family. Now, I get that during most of that time you weren’t happy, but you never let that show. You just recently shared that with me when all of this stuff went down with him. I guess I have a question for you. Why? Why did you stay with him for nineteen years, when according to you, you were clearly miserable?”

“That’s a good question. It’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over again. There is no simple answer. I suppose for the first few years it was because I was young and dependent upon him. I didn’t know how things were supposed to be between a husband and a wife. I threw myself into raising you and trying to keep Jack happy. Later on, it just became the way of life that I’d grown accustomed to. It was easier to stay and be miserable than exert the independence I’d never possessed. Making life changes is no easy thing. It takes determination and energy. I guess I lacked both.”

“I need to ask you something and I hope that you won’t take it the wrong way.”

She nodded and waited.

“What if you hadn’t met and fallen in love with Slate?”

“Are you asking me if I would have stayed with your father?”

“In a way, I am. Let’s say none of the criminal activities he was involved with took place. Would you have continued to live that miserable life?”

“First of all, I need to clarify something with you. I would’ve left your father regardless of the fact that I met Slate. Everything would’ve unfolded exactly the way it did, irrespective of your father’s criminal activities. I would still have danced as ‘Diamond Girl’ and carved an identity out for myself. So, if in fact the criminal activities hadn’t occurred, I would never have met Slate. The outcome between your father and I would still have been the same. We were done.”

I looked at her for a moment, trying to choose my words carefully, so as not to offend her.

“Do you feel independent now?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well, the fact remains that circumstances being what they were from the time you met Daddy until now have not shown whether you could be independent if there was cause to be. I mean, you left your parents’ home to be with Daddy. When you and Daddy split, you were already with Slate. The closest you ever came to being an independent woman was when you did your stint as a dancer and earned a living.”

I could tell I’d pissed her off slightly. It was a valid question, especially in light of the fact that Grandma, who had been under the direction of Granddaddy all of these years, was suddenly faced with carrying on without him.

“I think I understand what you’re asking me. You’re right. I’ve never had to be independent. Jack was the decision maker, brought home the bacon, and handled the finances the majority of the time. I suppose I have been blessed financially, considering who my father was and knowing that, no matter what, I would never end up on the streets homeless or anything.

“I’m happy with who I am now. I love my husband, my little baby boy, and my almost grown up daughter. I love that Slate and I make decisions together and respect each other’s differences.

“If that were to ever change and I found myself becoming the Sammie I used to be, I can honestly say I would certainly exercise my right of independence. Does that answer your question?”

I smiled over at her. I knew she was being honest about that and I was glad. She’d found her niche finally, and I knew that I would find mine.

I wanted different things for myself than she did, but that was natural. I wanted a career and independence before committing to anyone else. It was if she was reading my thoughts.

“Lindsey, I want you to know that I’m really very proud of you. You have enough independence for the both of us. You do well in school and have aspirations that I admire. I’m confident that no one will ever cause you to doubt yourself or the decisions you make. You have strength, integrity, and you have a heart. I think just maybe you got the best of each of us and none of the bad.”

“Oh, Mom,” I said, scooting to the edge of the bed to hug her, “thank you for telling me that.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner. I’ve always felt that way about you.”

“So, how’s Grandma?”

“Still rather quiet and withdrawn. I’ve made the funeral arrangements and our travel arrangements. We leave early morning on the 27th for Indianapolis. The funeral is on the 28th. I’ve left my return open, pending how well I can get Mom situated at their condo there. I’ll probably spend a couple of weeks with her to help her sort their affairs out with their personal attorney.”

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