A Gift of Time (The Nine Minutes Trilogy Book 3) (12 page)

“Oh,
Elliott, it has to be the most beautiful tattoo I’ve ever laid eyes on! The
details are amazing.” Her fingers gently caressed his forearm.

In a quiet
voice, he asked, “It doesn’t turn you off? I mean, you don’t think you’re
dating some kind of religious freak, do you?”

Mimi stared
at the tattoo. It was a cross and had a beautiful vine of flowers intertwined
around it. They were detailed and colorful. She peered closer and saw a tiny
white dove amongst them. A crown of thorns hung at the top. Drops of bright red
blood dripped from it and was spattered on some of the flowers.

“Are you
serious? Turned off? No, I’m not turned off. The edges are a little pink. Does
it still hurt?”

“No. It’s tender
’cause I’m still having my guy fill in the detail, but it doesn’t hurt.”

He smiled at
her but she couldn’t hold his gaze. She looked away.

Something
was wrong. “What is it?” His eyes looked sad. “Too much for you? I’ve just
unloaded so much on you and you’re probably confused. Is that it? The tattoos,
the bad friends, the motorcycle, and now you know I’m a Christian. I’ve just
unloaded a total ball of confusion, didn’t I? TMI?”

She shifted
in her seat, and the squeak of the vinyl made an embarrassing sound, bringing
her out of her thoughts.

“That was
not what it sounded like,” she said smiling.

He just
smiled back. “What’s wrong then, Mimi? What is it?”

She let out
a resigned breath. “I like you, Elliott, and I’m not sure if this is going to
matter to you or not. I guess I think it matters, otherwise I would’ve told you
up front.”

“Told me
what?” He shifted, too, and the seat made the same sound. They ignored it.

“You’re
going to be eighteen soon. I—I just turned fifteen.”

Before he
could respond, the waitress showed up with their desserts. After asking if
there was anything else they needed, she left them alone.

Mimi chanced
a glance at Elliott. He was looking at her.

“Whoa. Yeah.
I see what you mean. You just turned fifteen, which means you were fourteen not
so very long ago.” He leaned back against the booth and stared at his
cheesecake.

Mimi watched
him. Her own dessert no longer held any appeal.

Then he sat
up. “You know what? I don’t care. You are fifteen. I am seventeen. That doesn’t
sound so bad. I think the best thing for us to do, for me to do, is meet your
parents. Ask them if I can formally take you out. I know there will be
limitations, but honestly, Mimi, I like you enough to chance their refusal.”

“What if
they do refuse? I mean, I like you, too, Elliott. I don’t want to think about
how I’ll feel if they don’t let us see each other.”

“Then let’s
not think about it for now. Let’s enjoy tonight, and we’ll talk about when we
think it would be a good time for me to meet them. I don’t like sneaking
around, but I’m guessing that’s what you did to arrange tonight. Am I right?”

“Yes. They
think I’m with a friend, and before you think bad of me, I’ve never lied or
snuck around behind their back before.” At least not with a boy. She didn’t
want to think about her secret meetings with Leslie as sneaking around.
Besides, it was her parents’ fault. If they’d been truthful with her, she
would’ve been truthful with them.

“I don’t
think bad of you at all.”

She gave him
a little smile. “Listen, if you don’t mind seeing me once in a while, just so
we can see if we like each other enough to pursue this, see if it’ll be worth
it, can we keep it to ourselves just for now? I’m dealing with some really
heavy personal things right now, and so are my parents. It might not be good
timing to throw into their lives a soon-to-be-eighteen-year-old that their
just-turned fifteen-year-old daughter would like to date. Like I said, I’m not
one for sneaking around, but I’d like to do it that way for a little bit. Is
that okay?”

She couldn’t
tell him she’d been talking to a reporter on the sly while trying
simultaneously to convince her mother to give an interview about the evil sperm
donor. It was too much pressure to try to introduce a potential boyfriend into
the mix. No. She’d like to keep Elliott all to herself. At least until after
the execution. That would be coming up soon enough.

His brow
creased. “I don’t know, Mimi. If things do work out with us, I’ll feel funny
meeting your parents knowing I’ve been seeing you behind their back.”

She
stiffened. “My parents are in no way perfect, Elliott,” she said, her voice
cool. “And as much as I appreciate your concern and respect for their feelings,
let’s just say I’m in a place right now in my relationship with them where I’m
not certain they deserve it.”

Her change
in attitude stunned him, but he didn’t say anything. So she had a feisty side,
he mused. That wasn’t so bad.

“As long as
it’s before I turn eighteen, though,” he said finally. “I’m pretty sure if I
see you after I’m eighteen, I could get into legal trouble.”

She
softened. He was a nice guy, and she could understand his concern.

“It may not
matter anyway.” She looked down at her lap. “We may find out we don’t get along
so well after all.”

He reached
over then, tucked her hair behind her ear. He grabbed her chin and turned her
face toward his.

“I can
guarantee that will not be the case for me, Mimi. I’ve felt more comfortable
with you this last hour than I’ve ever felt with any girl. And it’s not like
there have been a lot of them. I’ve had a few girlfriends, but they were always
about shopping and gossip. I can tell you’re not like that at all.”

She gave him
a smile, and he leaned over, gently kissed her cheek. He signaled to the
waitress for their check.

“Now tell
me. When can I see you again?” he asked.

Chapter Eighteen

Ginny

2000,
Fort Lauderdale (After the Execution)

I’d never felt
so invigorated and optimistic after that
first trip to the shooting range with Mimi, and the long walk at a local park
that followed it.

Tommy had
retrieved my guns from the safe like I’d asked him. As I stood in front of the
desk in his office and loaded up my range bag with everything we’d need, I
could feel his eyes boring into me.

“I’m sorry
for telling her what you told me,” I said without looking at him.

He didn’t
reply. I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. He didn’t say anything,
just stared at me. He looked hurt and unsure of himself.

“No.” My jaw
tightened, and I thrust a pair of shooting glasses into the bag. “I take that
back. I’m not sorry. I’m tired of being sorry, Tommy. I’m not apologizing for
anything anymore.”

“It’s okay,
Gin,” he said softly. “I’m just worried she won’t trust me anymore.”

“Well, don’t
worry about it. I’m going to have a nice long talk with our daughter today. I’m
going to start at the beginning, and we either move forward from here, or we
don’t. I’m tired of tiptoeing around my past. I’m tired of tiptoeing around
Grizz. Yeah, I said it. The name that’s always been the elephant in the room.
Not even the room—every room. The name that’s been lurking around every
corner threatening to ruin our happily ever after. I’m so over this, Tommy.”

He smiled at
me then, and his expression instantly changed. I thought I knew what he was
going to say.

“Does she
know the other thing? About you being his son?” I whispered.

The ticking
of the grandfather clock sounded louder than it usually did, its steady
heartbeat filling the space between us.

“We hadn’t
gotten that far, Gin. Leslie could’ve told her, but I doubt it. Mimi told me
they’ve had no contact since about three weeks before Grizz died. I’m guessing
that’s about the time Grizz beat the shit out of Leslie at the prison. Mimi
even admitted she tried to find out from Leslie when the article would be
coming out, but the woman has flat-out ignored her.”

I nodded.
Good. Leslie took whatever threat Grizz had issued seriously. She was smart to
retreat.

I hoisted my
bag onto my shoulder and gave Tommy a level look.

“We’re still
telling her. You know that, right? I won’t even try to go there today with her,
but we will tell her. It’s something we should do together.”

I watched as
Tommy ran his hand through his hair. He let out a resigned sigh.

“I can’t say
I’m looking forward to that, but yeah, fine. We’ll tell her, Gin. We’ll tell
her together.”

I could see
the worry and doubt in his expression and my heart ached for him. I walked
toward him, kissed him lightly on the lips. The stubble on his chin grazed my
own, and I realized my earlier anger had dissolved and was transforming into
something else. I was feeling hopeful. Hopeful of a future without secrets. A
future where the barrier Mimi had erected, through no fault of hers, was broken
down.

I couldn’t
blame her for pulling back from us after finding out about Grizz. I should’ve
known our past would catch up with us, and if I hadn’t tried to avoid it, I
wouldn’t be struggling right now to make things whole again. I wouldn’t have
lost three years with my daughter.

As I let
myself ponder these things, I could feel something else creeping into my
consciousness. It was a feeling I’d not had too much experience with, so I
wasn’t sure if it was real or a defense mechanism against my deep-rooted pain
of Grizz’s rejection. I could feel an unsettling darkness seeping in. If I
didn’t deal with it, it would most certainly rear its ugly head. I thought
about the man responsible for all of this, and I congratulated myself for
throwing away that bandana.

It’s a good
thing you’re not around anymore, Grizz. It’s a good thing you chose to reject me
and live the rest of your life away from me.

Tommy must
have noticed a change in my expression because he looked down at me, his hands
resting on my shoulders.

“What is it,
Gin? What are you thinking?”

I stared at
a spot on the wall over his left shoulder and, without looking him in the eyes,
I answered him in a voice void of emotion.

“I was
thinking that if Grizz wasn’t already dead, I’d think about shooting him
myself.”

Without
waiting for Tommy to reply, I spun and headed toward the front door, shouting,
“Mimi, let’s go! I’ll be in the car.”

**********

As we approached the first
stop sign in our neighborhood, and before allowing any awkward silences to come
between us, I dove in headfirst with Mimi.

“Let’s start
with Leslie. I know you talked to her, and I’m sure she shared some of the
things I told her with you. I also know the article won’t be coming out.” I
glanced at Mimi, who looked slightly surprised. “Tell me how you and Leslie
found each other.”

Mimi plunged
right in, starting with her first encounter with Leslie at a mall. She was only
partway through when my cell phone interrupted us. Mimi looked at it.

“It’s Dad.”

I asked her
to put the phone on speaker.

“Hey. You’re
on speaker,” I told Tommy.

“Listen, I
just wanted to let you know my day changed up a little. I was going to take
Jason to practice and stay with him, but Sarah Jo called and wants me to meet
her for lunch,” he said.

“Is
something wrong with her?” Concern prickled at the edge of my thoughts. I was
still focused on my conversation with Mimi.

“No, I don’t
think anything’s wrong. I think she may just want to talk about her move and
some of Stan’s options.”

This was
understandable, but I may have been feeling slightly hurt. I’d reached out to
Jo more than once since Grizz’s execution, and she was always busy. I was
probably being overly sensitive. Besides, Tommy had done extensive traveling
outside the U.S. over the years, and Jo may have just wanted his opinion about
some of the places he’d visited. Tommy and Jo had been best friends long before
I came on the scene—and I was doing something much more important.

“Well, tell
her I still don’t want her to move and that I’m giving you a direct order to
talk her out of it.” I laughed. “And tell her I love her.”

“Yeah, I’ll
tell her. I don’t know how long I’ll be, so Denise said she’d bring Jason home
with her if I’m not back in time to get him.”

I said a
mental prayer of thanks. Denise had been a Godsend when it came to helping out
with Jason, especially during our brief separation.

“Got it.
We’ll all meet back at home later. I don’t know long Mimi and I will be,
either, so we’ll see you when we see you.”

“Okay,
honey. I love you. I love you both.”

“I love you
too, babe,” I said, then gave Mimi an imploring look. She knew what I wanted and
complied without hesitation.

“I love you,
too, Dad.”

Good. This
told us both Mimi wasn’t upset that Tommy had spilled the beans. I could almost
hear the relief in his answer.

“I love you
too, Dreamy Mimi.”

We hung up,
and the silence fell between us heavily like a blanket. I wouldn’t let it cover
us.

“He hasn’t
called you that in a while.” I gave her a sidelong glance as I navigated the
busy streets. Dreamy Mimi was a nickname Tommy had given her when she was
younger. She was only about five or six when Tommy was trying to get her
attention. When he’d asked if she’d been daydreaming again, she’d innocently
replied, “No, Daddy. I dream about night things, too. Not just about day
things.” He’d started calling her Dreamy Mimi then, and it’d stuck until she
was about twelve. It was then that she’d told her father she was too old to be
called Dreamy Mimi. It reminded me of when I first started insisting that
people call me Ginny instead of Gwinny.

“I told him
not to. You know, after I found out about...about...”

“About him
not being your biological father?” My voice might have had an edge to it I
hadn’t intended.

“I guess I
didn’t know if he meant it. If he wanted to be my father, or if it was a job he
just got stuck with,” she said quietly. “Dreamy Mimi sounded like more of a
taunt, Mom. I can’t explain it.”

“I
understand.” And I did.

I filled her
in on some things she wouldn’t know about, or have no way of remembering, like
the time I’d eavesdropped as Tommy told her a made up story about the Princess
Mimi. I told her about the time he’d threatened the father of a little girl
who’d mercilessly been bullying Mimi at school. Mimi had been about eight years
old and came home crying one day because the new girl, Marigold, had been
picking on her. Of course, I’d gone to the teacher and spoken with the girl’s
mother, yet the bullying had continued in the privacy of the girl’s restroom
and out-of-the-way corners in the library or playground.

When I’d
told Tommy it was getting harder and harder to get Mimi to go to school, he
paid a visit to Marigold’s father and told the man, “Every time my little girl
comes home from school crying because of your daughter, I’m going to come see
you and punch you in the face. It’s that simple. My daughter hurts, you’re
going to hurt.”

Tommy told
me how the guy scoffed at him. “Kids are kids. They need to work it out
themselves.”

“I’m not
making empty threats,” Tommy had told the man. “You’ve been warned. I suggest
you get your daughter under control. If my Mimi comes home crying, you’ll be
crying.”

The man had
just laughed as Tommy walked away. Sure enough, Mimi came home with evidence on
the inside of her upper arm where Marigold had pinched her, hard enough for us
to see bruises.

“I remember
that!” Mimi sat up straight in the car and looked over at me, the seatbelt
tight against her chest. “I remember trying to stay away from Marigold after
that, but I didn’t have to. She left me alone, and I think they moved anyway.
What did Dad do?”

“You really
want to know?”

She nodded.

“He went to the
man’s work, asked to speak to him outside, and punched him right in the face.
Just like he said he would.”

Mimi’s eyes
were wide as saucers. “He did that? He did that for me?”

“Mimi, your
father does not condone violence. I can tell you the truth when I say I’ve only
seen him lose his temper a few times. I didn’t see him punch Marigold’s father,
but I know it happened. And I also know that punch was nothing compared to what
he’d be willing to do for you. He would lay down his life for you, Mimi. You are
his daughter as far as he is concerned. You always have been, honey.”

I’d just
pulled into the shooting range, found a spot, and shifted the car into park. I
looked over at my daughter then and noticed the change in her posture. It was
relaxed and welcoming. Almost as if a burden had been lifted. I smiled at her,
and she smiled back.

“I guess we
won’t be able to talk much while we’re shooting the guns?” she asked.

“Probably
not. It’ll be loud.”

She nodded.
“Mom, when we’re done, can we go somewhere else and keep talking?”

“Of course
we can, Mimi,” I said, my heart feeling lighter.

“Good. Cause
you said in the kitchen, I didn’t know anything. You know Leslie told me some
of the stories?”

I plastered
on a phony smile at the mention of the reporter’s name.

“You tell me
everything Leslie told you, and I’ll do my best to fill in the missing pieces.”

“Good,” she
said with a wide grin. Then her brown eyes got serious. “I want you to tell me
everything you can about the evil sperm donor.”