Games of the Heart (39 page)

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” I asked quietly.

“God’s honest truth, she’s made me angry more than once in my life, this shit, angrier than ever,” Dad replied. “But I love her. She’s my daughter. Sayin’ that, had no clue what Mike was doin’ with her. Didn’t need to be a clairvoyant to see that boy was happy eatin’ pancakes at Frank’s when he was seven, seventeen and would be doin’ the same thing when he was seventy. Your sister likes croissants better than Hilligoss. Those two didn’t fit. You. Now, that I can see.”

If Dad had no clue, he was in denial. Then again, if he knew Mike did Debbie when she was fifteen, he might not be so hot on him for me. I wouldn’t have shared this information anyway but this was an added incentive not to.

Instead I just whispered, “Thanks Dad.”

“Still, he jerks you around, I’ll kick his ass.”

I smiled and with that, the difficult part was done.

I didn’t want to call Dad but once it was done I realized Mike was right. I should have done it earlier. It was good to know him and Mom were coming up just because I liked the idea of them being there. I liked it better because they were both good with the boys. But I liked it best that, after that scene with Debbie, I had more of what Mike called “firepower”.

I figured I was going to need it.

Mike and my lunchtime specials the last three days were about fast sex, fantastic orgasms, quick cuddling but not a lot of conversation. With his work, his schedule and his kids and me wanting to be with the boys in the evenings so they wouldn’t be alone with their thoughts and without their Mom, these opportunities didn’t come often. We whispered goodnights to each other over the phone but this didn’t last long either. He had to get up and hunt bad guys. I had to get up, exercise horses and make pottery. And he might have a long hall separating his room from his kids’, but I was smack next to Kirby’s room, across from Finley’s and I knew from growing up there the walls were thin.

But I had the feeling something was on his mind, something was concerning him, something he wasn’t sharing. And I’d have to give up sex to get it.

I was prepared to do this. But when I walked through his back gate and hit his backdoor the last three days, Mike was prepared for something else. I knew this when he grabbed my hand, dragged me through the house and up to his bed without delay.

I would have been okay to take the thirty seconds it took to hit his bed and use it wisely on his couch.

Mike was a bed man. I didn’t know if he paid so much for it he wanted to get as much use out of it as he could or if he didn’t want to be sitting on his couch with his kids thinking of doing me there.

I did know he was an adventurous lover. To get me off and him off in thirty minutes, he got resourceful.

Needless to say, Mike, his body, his mouth, his hands and his ingenuity, all of which ended with his smiles and his slow burn kisses, I didn’t protest and demand we chat over sandwiches instead of getting down to business.

As busy as he was, as brief as our quickies and conversations were, Mike made certain I knew he was thinking of me. And he did this yesterday afternoon when another delivery boy arrived from Janet’s Flower Shop. This time, a lush, close bunch of vibrant pink and so deep purple they were nearly blue hyacinths.

The card said,

Angel,

You didn’t mention it but I didn’t forget it. I missed Valentine’s Day.

But this day is more important, our anniversary.

Mike

At first, I didn’t understand. Then, I remembered it was Wednesday. I got home on a Wednesday. I forgave him on a Wednesday and we reconciled on that Wednesday.

Our anniversary.

Getting those flowers and note, I didn’t squeal inside. I melted.

I never knew a man who remembered stuff like that so I never had a man who remembered stuff like that. I’d had men give me flowers and I didn’t know if Janet was just super talented or Mike had fantastic taste because I might have had flowers but never any as strikingly beautiful as the ones Mike sent. Never having a man who did something like that, remembered shit that was important and made a point of letting you know it, I didn’t know it would feel so damned good.

But it did.

It was also a surprise. Mike was thoughtful, definitely, but he didn’t strike me as a flowers type of guy. So it was a surprise but a pleasant one because, as with everything he did, he did it really well.

Even with his focus on me in good ways, I still knew he was preoccupied and I needed to take his pulse and the more time that went by where I didn’t find my opportunity to do it, the more my concern grew. But with our lives the way they were, I didn’t see that opportunity opening up anytime soon.

It was going to be a long week and a day (and I was counting them down) before I got unadulterated Mike time.

There was movement at the barn doors, my head went from the vase I was making to them and I saw Rees hesitantly standing there.

A surprise.

“Hey, honey,” I called.

“Uh…hey, Dusty. Sorry,” she shifted as if to move away. “You’re busy.”

“Come in, Rees,” I invited. “If I can work and listen to rock ‘n’ roll then I can work and talk to my girl.”

“Sure?”

“Definitely. Hit the music and pull up a bale of hay.”

I focused back on what I was doing while Rees wandered around me. The music didn’t go away but she turned it down. Then she grabbed a bale of hay, tugged it close to where I was working and sat down on it. My eyes slid to her several times as she did this and continued to slide to her as she sat, watching my hands work.

I decided since she sought me out to let her set the scene.

It took her a few moments but finally, she set it.

“That’s pretty,” she said softly, I looked to her to see her eyes still on my hands.

“Thanks,” I replied. “It’ll be prettier when it’s fired and glazed.”

“Cool,” she whispered.

“Wanna learn how to do it?”

“No.”

This came so swiftly, I glanced at her again to see she’d leaned back a bit and had a funny look on her face.

“No?” I asked quietly.

Her eyes went to my face then back to my hands and she murmured, “I’m not good at that kind of stuff. You showed No, half an hour, he’d make something awesome. I’m not like that.”

This was telling.

No was a good basketball player, the best in school. And everyone talked about his band, said the other boys in it were okay but No was
awesome
. I got this information from Kirby who pretty much thought No’s shit didn’t stink. He had no reason to talk No up, he was just sharing. I was getting the impression that Fin was Brownsburg High School’s resident hot guy and Jonas Haines was its cool guy. The girls swooned when Fin was around, secretly hoping he’d turn his broody intensity their way and they could soothe his savaged soul. The girls swooned when No was around, secretly hoping he’d flash them his easy, lazy smile and they could bask in his glory.

But Kirby didn’t feel overshadowed by his brother. Darrin, even Rhonda and, lastly, Fin saw to that. He had his place in the family, his strengths were recognized and praised. Fin and Kirb didn’t get along every second of every day but they were tight. Kirby looked up to his brother and Fin guided him with a gentle hand making that big brother worship worth it.

I saw with Clarisse’s reaction there was another dynamic at play in the Haines household. Rees felt overshadowed by the number of her brother’s clear talents. She bickered with her brother but good-naturedly so I didn’t feel it was the dysfunction I had with Debbie. It wasn’t No rubbing in his abilities and popularity.

It was something else.

And I figured I knew what it was.

Things were coming clearer with Rees. She had a Dad who adored her, a brother she was close to but no mother who recognized and praised her. Daddy’s little girl and big brother’s little sister, those were a given if you had them all your life. But Mom could guide you on the journey to understanding who you were and help you cement your value as a woman.

Audrey Haines was not doing that and Clarisse was lost.

Treading cautiously, I said, “That’s okay, honey. Not your gig, not your gig.”

We lapsed into silence.

Then, “No said you’d teach us how to ride horses.”

“Sure,” I glanced at her, “you want that?”

She nodded.

I looked down at the clay. “Wanna start Saturday?”

“That’d be cool.”

I shot her a grin, “Then we’re starting Saturday.”

She grinned back.

I looked back at my wheel. “Doing me a favor. My baby girls like company. They’ll love you.”

“Awesome,” she whispered.

More silence.

Then, “Um…Dusty?”

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, have some jeans to take back. And my grandparents sent some money. I really like that bracelet you bought me and I don’t wanna know what it costs or anything but I’d like to know where you got it. Would you, um…maybe like to, uh…go shoppin’ with me?”

That time, I shot her a smile. “Fan…freaking…
tastic.
I’d
love
that. My girl Jerra is down in Texas and I don’t have anyone to shop with me here. We’ll kick some mall butt then we’ll do something girlie like drink seven thousand calorie coffee drinks and people watch. After your horseback riding lesson Saturday. Is that a plan?”

She smiled and it was genuine, no hesitancy, her beautiful brown eyes alight. “Definitely.”

I looked back down at my wheel, muttering, “Something to look forward to.”

“Cool,” she whispered then more silence then, “Uh…I, well, you know, you’re teachin’ me to ride your horses and takin’ me shoppin’ and all and maybe…” she trailed off and I positioned my hands so even though the clay kept moving the shape would not change and my eyes hit her.

Softly, I said, “Clarisse, honey, you’ll learn as you get to know me but there is nothing you can’t talk to me about, nothing you can’t ask. I can’t say yes to everything and you gotta know, no matter what we talk about, I’ll be honest, straight up. And some of my honesty you may not wanna hear. But I’ll be nice about it. Always. So if you have something to say or ask, say it. I have all the time in the world for you, honey, I promise. So take it. It’s yours.”

She stared at me, lips parted then blurted, “I want you to teach me how to do my makeup like you did it for my birthday party. No one ever…” She paused then finished on a rush, “I taught myself and I’m not very good at it. But you are. So I thought, if you don’t mind, you could teach me.”

I felt something hit my throat and it burned at the same time it took everything I had to keep my hands where they were on the vase and not get up, hunt Audrey fucking Haines down and kick her goddamned ass.

In front of me, a fifteen year old who had no idea the force of her beauty had been cast adrift.

It wasn’t about makeup.

It was about everything.

I shuddered to think what happened when Rees started her period. Her friends probably gave her advice and the very thought scared the hell out of me. Mike could not go there. He didn’t want to, for one thing. For another, he knew the workings of the female body but I doubted he could extol the virtues of tampons versus pads or different tampons versus other tampons and vice versa with pads. He could not commiserate with, educate about and thus help alleviate cramps. He could not discuss mood swings, how to feel them coming on and how to attempt to control them.

Fucking Audrey Fucking Haines.

Bitch.

“New plan. You come Saturday morning, I teach you to ride horses. Then we clean up and I give you pointers on how to make beauty even more beautiful. After we wring that miracle, we go to the mall, try on a bunch of stuff, trade out your jeans, drink coffee and people watch. We on?”

She grinned at me and whispered, “Yeah.”

“Excellent,” I murmured then looked back at the vase.

There was more silence. This lasted longer.

It lasted so long I was about to fill it when Rees piped up, “Dusty?”

“Baby,” I whispered, grinning to my vase, “I haven’t moved.”

She giggled.

I liked it. It was soft and beautiful just like her voice.

Then she asked, “You said I can talk to you about anything?”

“Yep.”

“Um…Fin asked me out.”

My hands slid through the clay, ruining the vase and Clarisse jumped.

“Oh no!” she cried, her eyes filled with horror. “I made you ruin it!”

“Finley asked you out?” I asked.

Her eyes shot to me. “I…uh, sorry!” she exclaimed. “He’s your nephew and –”

I threw my muddy hands in the air and yelled, “Right on!” I dropped them and smiled at her. “When are you going? Where are you going? Oh my God! This is so cool!”

She smiled hesitantly at me then her smile wavered. “Well, um…Dad says I can’t date until I’m sixteen.”

Shit. In the thrill of the moment, I totally forgot that.