Kept (8 page)

Sitting on her bed back then, thinking her seventeen-year-old life had ended, she had listened and nodded. Mom knew everything.

Today she wondered.

One marriage that lasted four years. Then one man after another. She could still see their faces, even though none of them stayed.

Even when they’d been the ones to come back.

No one stayed.

No one.

Her shaking became hard jerks that jolted her, and tears dripped from her chin before she realized she was sobbing.

It had been so long since she’d cried over a man. Gotten angry, gotten drunk, gotten even—yes. But tears…

Because Mark wasn’t coming back.

“I can’t believe Scheider showed up again.” Garrett chuckled from the kitchen where he scrubbed newly found dried blood off a lower cabinet. “I love messing with that guy.”

On the new couch, Dillan adjusted the pillows beneath his arm. He didn’t want to think about Scheider. Or Miska. He focused on the TV. “Celtics are down by five.”

Garrett grunted and kept scrubbing. “Dude, I seriously wonder how close you were to bleeding out.”

Tracy smiled from the oversized chair where she worked on the wedding’s guest list. “People don’t bleed out from cuts above the eye.”

“I don’t know, my little Florence Nightingale. Miska said it was spurting. Must be why he had her take him to the hospital instead of calling 911.”

Tracy sent Dillan a puzzled look. “Why didn’t you call 911?”

“Because I couldn’t find my phone. Couldn’t think straight. Started feeling… fuzzy.”

“Like you were going to pass out?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t repeat that.”

She smiled and returned to her list.

Garrett turned on the faucet. “So what do you think about Miska and Mark? Think we’ll all be friends someday?”

Dillan held back a snort. “No.”

“Me neither. I don’t think Miska likes me.”

“Miska?” Dillan turned. “You mean—”

Garrett grinned at him. “What gets me is that you still felt faint after you saw what she was wearing.”

“I did not feel faint.”

Tracy set down the pad. “What was she wearing?”

Garrett had to bring that up. But the truth was that Dillan hadn’t even noticed until they left the ER. Then the sheer shirt over the low, white camisole, the shoulders of the shirt cut away with the billowy fabric covering her forearms, the skin-tight jeans that hugged… everything— Dillan fiddled with the Velcro on his sling.

“Sheesh, guys. Bring it up then don’t tell me, why don’t you?”

He focused on the basketball game as if he hadn’t heard.

“She was—” Garrett bumped a cabinet. “Just a… I don’t know. She looked like she bought her wardrobe from Victoria’s Secret. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

No kidding.

“How was the baseball player?” Tracy asked.

“Fine.” Garrett plopped onto the other end of the couch and stretched his legs. “A little friendlier than last time.”

“Which isn’t saying much.” Dillan snickered. “That dumb Yogi Berra quote. I have to say, Tracy, it was fun watching Garrett press Scheider’s buttons.”

Tracy laughed while Garrett ducked his head in false modesty. “What can I say? I’m quick on my feet.”

“I’d like to be quick on my feet and avoid her,” Dillan said. “I’ve run into her too much.”

“Dude. You’d be dead without her.”

Tracy laughed again. “It can’t be that bad, Dillan. What, is she trying to seduce you all the time?”

He shook his head. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Yes, well, she’s lost. What do you expect?”

“I expect to run along the lakefront and enjoy some peace and quiet. You should have heard the way she jumped all over me when it came out that you two weren’t living together.”

“That came up?” Tracy pursed her lips. “Interesting. What’d she say?”

“She confessed that Mark was married and said I shouldn’t judge her.”

“Dude.” Garrett made a face. “What’d you say that brought that on?”

“I said, ‘Oh,’ or something like that.”

Tracy picked up her bag and searched through it. “She feels guilty.”

“She should.”

She pulled out a DVD case and stared at it. “I can’t stop thinking about her, wondering if maybe God put us here for her.”

Nope. Not him. What if warm weather came, and she dressed for that? “I don’t see it.”

“See what? You don’t think she could be saved?”

“God can save anyone he wants to. I just don’t see her being interested in God.”

“So you think she’s too much for God.”

“No—”

“That’s what you’re saying.”

Dillan glanced at Garrett who held up his hands. “I’m not here.”

Tracy made a face. “I’m serious, Dillan. I don’t think avoiding her is the way to go. Be smart, yes, but don’t avoid her. She needs what we have.”

So he’d smartly avoid her? That would work.

“Garrett.” Tracy tapped the DVD case. “You’ve been around her type. How does someone like her think?”

Dillan stilled, waiting for a reaction. Been around her type… yeah, that was one way of putting it.

But Garrett only shrugged. “Sometimes they don’t have much of a personal life. They’ve got men and maybe some close friends, but those friends are like them—always on the prowl. She’d have some downtime to think, but my guess is that she’d try to avoid it.” Garrett glanced at Dillan. “I did.”

Who was this Garrett look-a-like? Dillan couldn’t remember a more honest, open moment from his brother since… well, since they were twelve and eleven and huddled in the basement while tornado sirens went off and trees doubled over.

Maybe Garrett
had
changed.

And maybe Tracy had something to do with it. She was obviously good for him, accepting him despite his past. Brotherly love for her surged through Dillan.

“I wonder how many girlfriends she has.” Tracy focused on Garrett. “If it’s all about men, all about the next fling, maybe she’s kind of lonely when she has those down times. Maybe…” She tapped the DVD again. “Is there some
Rambo
or
Predator
movie on?”

Garrett’s mouth fell open, and he spread his arms. “I knew it! I converted her! Come here, baby.”

Dillan laughed.

Tracy rolled her eyes. “Please. No. I’ve got a girls’ movie. Someone at work gave it to me. I can use you guys as an excuse to see if she wants to hang out. You know, you’re watching
Rambo
and basketball, and I’m about to pull my hair out.”

Garrett worked the remote. “
Rocky
started fifteen minutes ago.”

“That’s perfect. I hate that movie.”

Garrett sent Dillan a confused look.

“She hates it, Gare. So it’s perfect.”

Tracy slung the bag’s strap onto her shoulder. “Exactly. You guys enjoy your guy night. I’m going to try to go next door.”

Interesting plan Tracy had. Hopefully she came out unscathed. “Knock an SOS on the wall if you get into trouble.”

She flicked his earlobe as she passed.

Dillan grabbed it. “Ow.”

“I thought we’d use the whippoorwill call.”

He exaggerated rubbing his ear. “Is she that loud?”

Garrett raised an eyebrow. “Scary thought. Go get ’er, tiger.”

“I will. Pray for me, guys.”

Right.
God, keep Tracy safe. Make Miska be nice to the poor girl.

The door shut behind them. Garrett leaned forward, eyes on the game. “You want to watch
Rocky
?”

“Not especially. What else is on?”

Garrett flipped through the listings. “
Pride and Prejudice
.
Les Mis
—”

“
Rocky
sounds awesome.”

Miska peeked at Tracy sitting in the dark beside her, gaze glued to the TV screen where
Downton Abbey
’s Matthew Crawley surveyed his future estate. Tracy’s arrival with a plea of escape from what the guys were watching had been a surprise. But she’d had no reason to say no. Adrienne had never shown up to drink their sorrows away, and the last thing Miska wanted was to sit alone and relive her argument with Mark.

If she and Adrienne weren’t going to get drunk together, watching
Downton Abbey
was a good second choice.

And Tracy was all right, after all.

Someone pounded at her door.

Tracy jumped. “Wow, that scared me.”

Miska paused the show. “I’ll see who that is. You want popcorn?”

“Sounds great.”

She padded down the hall in her bare feet. “There’s a box in the cabinet above the microwave.”

Miska released the deadbolt and opened the door.

Adrienne teetered in the hallway. “Misky.” She grabbed the doorframe. “What’s up?”

“Not you for much longer. What’d you drink?” Miska pulled the door wide open to give Adrienne room to maneuver.

“Just shots, I think.” Adrienne trailed one hand along the hallway. “Why’s your place so dark?”

“We’re watching TV.”

“We?” She lowered her voice. “Is Mark still here?”

Tracy popped her head into view. “Hi, Adrienne. Good to see you again.”

Adrienne stared at Tracy. “You’re—aren’t you Garrett’s little fiancée?”

Miska tensed. A wasted Adrienne was unpredictable. “Tracy brought
Downton Abbey
over. Have a seat. We’re making popcorn.”

A kernel popped as if to verify her words. Adrienne seated herself at the island. “So how was your love fest with Mark?”

Tracy peered into the microwave.

“Fine.” If she pretended he left five minutes earlier than he had. “What happened to tonight? I thought you were coming over.”

“Oh, that.” Adrienne waved a hand. It fell and smacked the granite. “Got stuck dealing with an author issue, then got talking with someone new in the office, and we went out for drinks. Didn’t mean to blow you off. You ended up with company anyway.” She flashed Tracy a useless fake smile.

Tracy asked Adrienne about her work. Miska took over popcorn duty as they talked.

“So what are Garrett and his brother up to?” Adrienne asked.

“They’re watching
Rocky
, I think.”

“Ah,
Rocky
.” Adrienne laid her hand over her heart. “My fave.”

Smiling, Miska pulled the popcorn from the microwave. “Yo, Adrienne, want popcorn?”

“No, I’m gonna head out. Need to sleep off those shots. You girls enjoy your show.”

Miska handed Tracy the popcorn and followed her sister down the hallway. “You need a cab?”

“I’ll get one. See you.”

Miska watched her walk away. What was going on in Adrienne’s life that she hadn’t waited to drink with her? She closed the door and returned to the kitchen. One girl had to be as good as another. “You want something to drink?”

“I’ll take pop if you’ve got it.”

She’d been thinking Bailey’s. Or Bacardi. “A&W okay?”

“Perfect.”

“Glass or can?”

“Can’s fine.”

The woman was too easy to please. Miska grabbed cans from the fridge. She handed Tracy one and curled up on her end of the couch. A dry night. Oh, well. She popped the top and drained a good third of the can.

“You and Adrienne seem close.”

Cold seeped into her fingers. “We are. She looked out for me in high school. Then I did an internship at her publisher, and we’ve been good friends since.”

“You don’t seem much alike, though.”

“Our families were different. Her mom’s spent most of her life high on something. So Adrienne went without a lot. A hard life, you know?”

Tracy nodded.

“My mom, on the other hand, worked hard, made a lot, gave us everything she could. She was an amazing woman. She was our glue.” She swirled the root beer. Vodka was calling her now.

“You said
was
. She’s passed?”

“Four years ago. She was twenty-six when I was born, and I was twenty-six when she died. I’ve always wondered if she had any idea when I was born that she’d just hit middle age.”

“Probably not.”

“Makes me wonder, you know? Like maybe middle age was back in high school and the end’s just around the corner. Or maybe I’m twenty years away from middle age.”

“Those are some heavy thoughts.”

Thoughts she no longer wanted to think about. “What about your family?”

Tracy studied the popcorn bowl. “My family’s closer to yours, except my parents are together. My older brothers are the best. They’ve always spoiled me. You know how brothers are.”

All too well.

“We’re even closer now.” Tracy gave a nervous laugh. “My family became Christians while I was in college. I was the first. I had this friend in high school who invited me to youth group—”

Dillan flashed in her mind. “Youth group—what is that? Dillan’s mentioned it.”

“Oh.” A startled look crossed Tracy’s face. “It’s a weekly church meeting for teenagers. We’d play games, eat junk food, study the Bible. It was life changing.”

“So that’s what he does every week? Plays games, eats junk food, studies the Bible? That broken arm will ruin any games.”

Tracy laughed. “I doubt it’ll make a difference. Dillan’s not much of an athlete.”

“Really? But he’s a runner—” Who wiped out while running. “I see your point.”

“You should see him with the kids, though. He’s so good. I hope he’s still youth pastor when our kids are old enough.” She sighed as if the idea made her infinitely happy. “Anyway, I started going to youth group with my friend and learned how God loved me and made a way to pay for my sins so I could go to heaven.”

Ah, there was the God stuff. It obviously worked for Tracy, which was great. “Can I ask a question?”

“Ask away. I’m an open book.”

“Dillan let it slip that you’re not living with Garrett until you’re married.”

“It’s no secret. Sure, we’re waiting until our wedding night for sex.”

Their wedding night? “Why?”

“Because God says to wait until we’re married. His plan is for one woman and one man to be married until death separates them. Doing it any other way brings pain. That’s all it is. I want to have a great marriage with Garrett, and part of that means doing it God’s way. Waiting.”

“But you guys are engaged. You’re getting married—when?”

“Late September when it’s nice and cool.”