In His Good Hands (8 page)

Renita pushed open the door she gestured to, and went inside. Her heart sank when she found Smedley, unconscious, laid out on a trolley lined with a towel. An intravenous drip fed in through a needle inserted into a shaved patch on his leg.

At least he was alive.

“Hey, Dad,” Renita said softly. “How’s the boy?”

“Hanging on.” Steve’s jaw was gray with stubble and his wrinkled clothes were the same ones he’d worn yesterday. He straightened, a hand pressed to the small of his back.

Renita walked over to gently stroke the brown-and-white spotted fur on Smedley’s neck. The only sign of life was the slight rise and fall of his rib cage. “Did the vet figure out what’s wrong with him?”

“David reckons Smedley ate fox bait.”

“Fox bait.”
Poison.
“He will recover, though, won’t he?” Renita searched her father’s face anxiously.

Steve shrugged, his mouth working as he stroked Smedley’s front paw over and over with one fingertip. “It’s still touch and go. The little bugger is tough but…” He cleared his throat. “The vet assistant will be along soon to turn him.”

Renita gazed at the animal. Even in sleep the little terrier was never this still; he was always twitching, chasing rabbits in his dreams. “Is he in a coma?”

“He’s anesthetized. The drip is saline laced with sodium bicarb. It could take up to twenty-four hours before he shows signs of recovery.”

Renita heard the unspoken
if.

“Have you had dinner?” she asked. Her dad looked at her blankly. “You didn’t even have lunch, did you?” She rose. “Okay, you’re coming with me. We’re going to eat.”

“I don’t want to leave him.”

“You’re not going to do him any good by becoming sick yourself.”

Steve pushed his glasses up to rub his bleary eyes. “Gotta admit…I have a hankering for fish and chips.”

The thought of hot, salty chips made Renita’s mouth water. “Or we could get something less fattening.”

“To hell with the diet,” Steve growled. “I’m hungry.”

Renita led the way out through the clinic to the parking lot and her car. “You look thinner. How much weight have you lost?”

“Eight pounds.”

“That is
so
not fair. Men lose weight more easily than women,” she complained, only half joking.

“I have more to lose,” Steve groused, rubbing his belly.

At the takeout in the village Steve ordered battered fish and a large order of chips. Renita decided to be strong and got grilled fish, no chips. When the food was ready they carried it to a picnic table in the park. She tore open the butcher’s paper wrapping. Steam billowed from the hot fish and crisp wedges of potato.

Instead of diving in, Steve curled his fists on the picnic table. His face, already haggard from losing sleep over his dog, drooped, his jowls settling into folds.

Renita covered his hand with hers. “Smedley will be all right.”

“It’s not that.” His voice was thick, his eyes misty behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “I been eatin’ dinner with Hetty every night for forty years.”

“Let’s call her, ask her to join us.” Renita squeezed his hand. “She’d want an update on Smedley.”

“She doesn’t care about my dog.”

“You’re wrong, Dad. At any rate, she cares about
you.
You shouldn’t take Smedley’s sickness out on her.” Renita reached in her purse for her phone. “It’ll be fun to have a picnic—”

Steve’s gnarled fingers shot out to still her hand. “She’s gone.”

“What?” Renita said, not understanding. “Gone where?”

“Back to Queensland. Left this morning.”

“Oh, no.” Renita dropped her phone back in her purse. She poked the plastic fork into her grilled fish and discovered she’d lost her appetite. “How long will she be away?”

Steve took a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. “She didn’t say.”

Renita shoved a fried potato into her mouth. Briefly, she registered the crispy texture and salty taste. Mindlessly, she took another. “She can’t just keep running off like that,” Renita said, chewing furiously. “What are you supposed to do?”

“Just get on with things, I suppose.” His hand shook as he lifted another bite to his mouth.

Seeing her father so upset scared her. Renita wanted to shake some life into him. He’d lost weight, but it was more like he’d lost substance. “But she just comes and goes as she pleases. It’s not right. What sort of marriage is that? Call her. Tell her to come home.”

“I’ve got to take care of Smedley. One thing at a time.”

“You can’t drop everything for the dog. You missed a training session yesterday.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ll make it up. Sometime.”

Renita looked down at her greasy fingers and felt sick. After a week of strict dieting, she’d eaten half a dozen French fries without thinking. “Speaking of training…do you remember when I was a teenager and I used to tutor Brett?”

“Sure. Why?” Steve handed her a paper napkin.

“I’m curious. Why didn’t you like him?” She hadn’t given it a thought for years, but now that Brett was back in her life she wanted to know.

“He wasn’t your type.”

“Wasn’t my type,” she repeated. Brett had said the very same thing. “Do you mean I wasn’t pretty enough for him? Not popular enough?”

“You were good enough for any boy. Still are.”

“Then did you think
he
wasn’t good enough for
me?
”

“I just didn’t like him hanging around the house all the time.”

“We were studying.”

“I saw the way he looked at you. Like a wild dog eyeing a young lamb.”

Renita’s mouth twisted in a skeptical grimace. “Come on, Dad. He was out of my league.”

“Then maybe it was the way
you
looked at
him.
The fact is, he was trouble,” Steve growled.

“Trouble in what way?” she persisted. “He was always polite to you and Mother.”

“The boy was sexually active,” Steve said bluntly. “You were too young for that kind of nonsense. Which is also why I wasn’t going to discuss it with you.”

Renita dropped her plastic fork and sat back, stunned. Sexually active. In hindsight she didn’t doubt Brett had been, although she’d been too naive to realize it at the time. “Wait a minute. How did you know he was sexually active?”

“He was good-looking, popular. There were rumors about him and the girls he went out with. I didn’t want him corrupting you.”

Whereas she would have loved to have been corrupted by Brett O’Connor. Okay, maybe fifteen was too young to have sex, despite what went on in schools these days. But she would have liked to have had the opportunity to say no.

Steve rose and tossed the rubbish into the bin next to the barbecues. “I have to get back to the clinic.”

Renita slowly wrapped the remains of her meal in the crumpled paper. Even after more than a decade, the thought of Brett seducing her in high school made her tingle.
Would
she, innocent and awkward and in awe of the handsome jock, have said no?

Maybe. Maybe not.

And if he wanted to make love to her
now?

Renita felt the lens slide off onto her eyeball. She blinked, her vision blurry. Blinked again and it cleared. She looked around the shop, amazed that the clarity was even better than with her glasses. “I can’t wait to try them out at the gym. It’ll be so nice not to have my glasses fog up every time I start to sweat.”

“Oh, we have antifogging solution,” the assistant said. “Would you like to try that?”

“No, I’m happy with the contacts.”

Renita glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes had always been her best feature. Why hadn’t she gotten contact lenses years ago?

Minutes later she stepped out onto the street, feeling almost naked without plastic frames on her face. Different. Lighter. More attractive. This was great. Not only could she see better, she looked better.

Her cell phone rang. Renita stepped to the edge of the sidewalk between the butcher and the green grocer to answer it. “Hey, Lexie. What’s up?”

“Can you meet Jack and me at the pub tonight?” Her sister sounded teary. “We need to have a family conference about Mother and Dad.”

“I saw Dad yesterday. He’s pretty depressed about her being away and Smedley and everything.”

“It’s worse,” Lexie said with a shuddering sigh. “I talked to her this morning.”

“Another week, I reckon,” Danny agreed, swirling his draft beer. “I’ve already bought him his first football.”

“I’m happy for you guys.” Brett clinked glasses with his friend.

“There’s Jack Thatcher,” Danny said, nodding toward the door. “He’s a mate of yours, isn’t he? My neighbor belongs to his volunteer organization, the Men’s Shed.”

Brett glanced over his shoulder as Jack, Renita and Lexie walked into the pub and took seats by the window. They hadn’t seen him. In fact, they didn’t seem to notice anyone. The trio appeared awfully somber for a Saturday night.

Renita looked different. She was wearing jeans and a sleeveless silk blouse, and he could tell she’d lost a bit of weight. She didn’t look too bad, really. Something else about her had changed, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Her wavy hair fell loosely around her shoulders instead of being tied back. But that wasn’t it.

“Danny, look at the time. We’ve got to go,” Bree said, glancing at her watch. “Sorry, Brett. The sitter can only stay till eleven.”

“No worries. It was great to see you both.”

Danny drained his beer. “We’ll have you and Tegan over for a barbecue soon. Bring your swimsuits.”

“Look forward to it,” Brett said, half rising to say goodbye. “Drop into the gym sometime.”

After Danny and Bree left, Brett’s gaze drifted back to Renita. She leaned over her glass of wine, speaking earnestly to Jack and Lexie. Once or twice she touched her fingers to her eyes as if she was blotting tears.

Had Steve’s dog died? Renita, like her father, had always loved animals. She’d always been emotional, too, as he recalled. Lexie and Jack weren’t crying, but they looked upset.

Brett drained his beer. He might as well have an early night. Rising, he wove among the tables toward the exit. With luck he could slip past without being seen. He didn’t want to intrude on what was clearly a family conference.

Then Jack happened to glance up. “Hey, Brett.”

Brett had no choice but to walk over. He included all three in his greeting. “How’s everyone?”

“Fine. Have a seat,” Jack said.

“I don’t want to interrupt. I was just leaving—”

“No, stay.” Lexie scraped her chair over so he could pull up another between her and Renita. “We’re done with the family stuff.”

Brett glanced at Renita, eyebrows raised.

“Please. Join us,” she said stiffly.

This was awkward. Yes, he was tired of women fawning over him, but Renita was looking at him like something the cat dragged in. Still, he didn’t have much choice now but to stay, so he brought another chair over and draped his jacket on the back. “What are you all drinking? I’ll get another round.”

“Nothing more for me,” Lexie said. “But Renita will have a chardonnay.”

Renita’s hand shot up, palm out. “No, but thanks, anyway.”

“I’ll have a beer,” Jack said.

“No, he won’t,” Lexie said to Brett as she rose to her feet. “Jack and I are leaving.” She turned to her brother. “Remember you promised to help me with that cabinet door?”

“Yes, but
now?
” he said, frowning. “It’s eleven o’clock at night.”

“So? I work all night sometimes. This is early.” Lexie took his arm and tugged him toward the door. “Bye.”

“Let’s catch up soon,” Jack called back to Brett. “Sometime when I’m not doing handyman jobs on the night shift.”

“I really do have to leave, too,” Renita said.

“Stay,” Brett said. “Just for one drink.”

While she hesitated, he signaled the waiter and ordered wine for her and another beer for himself.

“So,” he said, deciding not to tiptoe around the topic, “what was that all about, Lexie dragging Jack off?”

“That’s just Lexie being weird,” Renita said. “Don’t pay any attention to her.”

It had almost looked like matchmaking, if the idea of him and Renita together didn’t seem so unlikely. Brett took a swig of beer. “You guys didn’t look too happy tonight. Did something happen to Steve’s dog?”

“He’s alive, just,” Renita said. “He ate fox bait set by the council in the creek reserve.”

Brett winced. “That’s bad.” He’d seen a dog die after eating bait. It hadn’t been pretty. “But he’s alive, you say.”

“We should know within the next twenty-four hours if he’ll survive.”

Brett sipped his beer. “It’s not just the dog, is it?”

Renita twisted the stem of her wineglass, her mouth turned down. Finally, she cleared her throat. “My mother left my father.”

“What—I understood she was at a retreat in Queens land.”

Renita glanced away, blinking. “She rang him today to say she wanted to separate.”

Steve and Hetty’s marital problems were nothing to do with Brett, but his divorce was only six months old, recent enough for the pain to be fresh in his own mind. “That’s a lot for Steve to handle on top of Smedley.”

“He’s so angry,” Renita said, pleating a napkin. “He blames Hetty for Smedley nearly dying. Hetty thinks he loves his dog more than he loves her.”

Brett scratched the back of his head. “How can Smedley eating fox bait be Hetty’s fault?”

“All Dad ever wanted when he and Mother retired was for them to travel Australia in a trailer home. But my mother got into yoga.” Now that Renita had started, she seemed to want to tell him the whole story. “She began changing, personal growth stuff, which is great for her but left Dad with too much time alone, especially when she went away on retreats. Then Dad got diabetes and now this happened with Smedley.”

“It’s rough.” Brett wiped his thumb through the condensation on his glass. “But maybe if they’re that different, they’re better off apart.”

“How can you say that?” Renita cried. “They can’t give up on forty years of marriage just like that. They need to try to work it out.”

“Some things can’t be worked out,” Brett replied.
Like your wife screwing your teammate in the bathroom at a party in your honor.
“Some things are too big to get over.”

“Oh!” Renita seemed to pull herself up, as if recalling who she was talking to. “You’re right. About some things.”

No doubt she’d read about Amber’s sexploits. Hell, the whole world knew. The unspoken subject brought an abrupt halt to their conversation.

Renita put down the napkin and fiddled with a cardboard coaster, rolling it through drops of water on the table. “Look, I’m sorry about the loan,” she said, changing the subject. “I see a lot of small businesses start big and then fail within a year. It seemed to me you were biting off more than you could chew.”

“Just because I got a few figures wrong the first time.” He hated that he seemed stupid to her. He didn’t know why her opinion should matter so much. The whole situation was all the more galling because his brothers had both done well in school and in business.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your business sense. But you admit you have no experience.”

“No experience. Are you sure that’s the only reason?” He suspected Renita, despite her denials, did hold a grudge, and he wanted to clear the air.

“What do you mean?” Her gaze raked his face.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Back in high school I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“You
didn’t
hurt me.” The words snapped out. “You couldn’t hurt me.”

“I was there, Renita. I saw your face.” Even now her cheeks flamed red in the dim lighting. “You took me by surprise. I never thought of you—”

“That way?”
she interjected coolly. “You never thought of me in a romantic light—is that what you’re trying to say?”

He leaned back, shifting uncomfortably, and swigged his beer. Despite the air-conditioning the night was humid, and he was sweating. She was right, of course, but it didn’t reflect well on him. So he said nothing.

“I was
embarrassed,
” Renita stressed, “because you and your friends were laughing at me. I wasn’t
hurt.
Being hurt would imply I cared about what you thought of me. I didn’t.”

“So who did you end up going to the dance with?” he asked. After that day in front of the locker room he hadn’t given her another thought. Now he wished he’d been kinder. God, he’d been a prick, really.

Renita stared at him. “Who did I go with?” She laughed. “This really hot guy in my English class. He bought me a corsage and picked me up in a limo. We had champagne, stayed at the Grand Hyatt.” She waved her wineglass. “It was like a fairy tale come true.”

Jeez, he hoped she’d had a date. Somebody,
any-body.
“No, really, tell me.”

She set her glass on the soggy coaster. “I sat at home the night of the prom and watched a movie with my parents. That was my sad, pathetic life. Are you happy now?”

Crap. Back then he’d liked Renita in a way he hadn’t liked more popular girls. She’d known he struggled with his schoolwork, yet she’d always made him feel as if he could master it. If only he made the effort, which, admittedly, he rarely did.

“We were pals once, though,” he said. “Weren’t we?”

“Pals. Yeah, sure.” She gave him a twisted half smile.

He realized suddenly what was different about her. “You’re not wearing glasses.”

“You just noticed.” As if that confirmed something about him. And about her. “I got contact lenses.”

He felt the way he did sometimes with Tegan, as if Renita had metamorphosed before his very eyes.

She rose and reached for her purse hanging on the back of her chair. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for the drink.”

Brett got up, too, his thoughts jumbled. With any other friend he would have kissed her cheek.

While he stood there wondering how to say goodbye, she slipped out the door.