A Little Help from Above (28 page)

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Authors: Saralee Rosenberg

BOOK: A Little Help from Above
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“I’ll shut up now.” Shelby blushed.

 

“I like it,” Ian announced, after he finished reading Shelby’s revised draft of the wedding piece. “I do. It’s pithy and fun. Say nothing of informative. Excellent job, my friend. I knew you’d deliver for Uncle Ian.”

“Thank you,” Shelby beamed. “I know it’s not what we set out to write, but Warner fans are going to go crazy for it.”

“So will the kids in sales. They can market a whole bridal advertising section around this.”

“Not so fast, Uncle Ian.” Shelby removed the pages from his hand. “Remember our deal? This was a two-for-one special. You have to approve my DES piece before I turn over my pithy little story to you.”

“My dear, naive Shelby. Are you blackmailing me?”

“Of course not. I’m just telling you I’ve spent hundreds of hours on an extremely important investigation that uncovered…”

“Sob story after bloody sob story,” Ian finished. “Especially the one about that poor woman who bled to death because the doctor misread her ultrasound and didn’t know the embryo was lodged in her fallopian tube. Dear God, is that what you want us reading over our coffee and Krispy Kremes?”

Shelby just blinked.

“I’m simply asking, can’t we uncover anything a bit more scandalous to spike the punch?”

“You mean other than the fact that the FDA, the most prominent medical journals, and dozens of pharmaceutical companies ignored the mounting evidence that DES was having tragic effects on millions of women and their offspring, and chose to continue mar
keting it anyway? You mean aside from the fact that if this sort of indifference had afflicted millions of men, the people responsible would have been indicted for criminal negligence? You mean aside from the fact that nearly 80 percent of DES daughters have benign precancerous cells known as adenosis around their vaginas…”

“Eegads.” Ian shivered. “Can’t you find a more pleasant way to refer to that region?”

“That region?” Shelby said sarcastically. “Sure. Maybe I could refer to it as the sunbelt!”

“Look, all I need to be happy is one little smoking gun. One aerial shot of a fat guy retired in Tahiti who is lounging poolside at his mansion, thanks to the moolah he made off this drug.”

“The scandal, Ian, is not that one man got rich on blood money. The scandal is that thousands of knowledgeable medical professionals, top researchers, and multibillion-dollar corporations made big money and looked the other way…and are still looking the other way.”

“So you’re saying, basically, the guilty parties are just counting the years until all the victims are dead and buried?”

“That’s right.” Shelby fanned herself with the pages of her story.

“You’re going for a Pulitzer, aren’t you?” Ian swiveled in his chair

“I’m going for the truth, and if out of that comes recognition, yea for our team.”

Ian formed a teepee with his fingers and bounced them against his lips. “It’s not really our kind of story, you know. It’s rather morbid and serious.”

“You said it.”

“And I’ve had more than my fill of hearing about deformed you-know-whats.”

“Sunbelts?”

“Precisely. Although I must admit that the caliber of the writing and the reporting is par excellent. Pulitizer quality, in my humble but very experienced opinion.”

“Thank you,” Shelby bowed.

Ian hummed and swayed in his chair for a minute, then clapped. “Okay then! God help me, we run it as is. Although the suits upstairs will surely tweak my behind for this.”

“Oh, come now. You’d love that.” Shelby winked.

“You know me so well, darling.”

To celebrate the completion of her Informer assignments, Warner and Ian offered Shelby a night on the town, never expecting she’d beg off, citing limited free time. If only they knew that her free time was being spent moping around in pajamas.

A sympathetic Maria tried coming to the rescue with homemade soup, back rubs, and a constant array of bright, fragrant flowers that filled the guesthouse. Still, no smiles. “I’m tryin’ my best, but the only thing gonna cheer this child up is a blessed phone call,” she told Lauren.

It had been six long days since she’d seen Matty, and not one word from him.

“It’s not like when we were kids and the only way you could stay in touch was to sit down and write a letter,” Shelby cried to Lauren. “I gave him my screen name, my cell phone…”

“Maybe he’s swamped at work,” she offered. “It could be a real busy time.”

“Maybe his child has taken a turn for the worse, and he’s spending day and night at her bedside,” Maria tried.

“No. He’s sending me a message.” Shelby sniffed. “Obviously, he doesn’t want to see me.”

That last possibility was devastating, but not completely unexpected. She and Matty had had strong feelings for each other as children, but he never made the effort to stay in touch then either. Why would he care about her now that he was a busy father and husband?

On the other hand, he wasn’t the only one avoiding contact. Shelby hadn’t called or e-mailed Matty because she simply couldn’t
bare her soul again, only to have him patiently explain that as much as he cared about her, he would never leave his wife. Nor could she take the chance of calling, then chickening out, then discovering the McCreighs had caller ID. She wondered if the whiz kids who developed that technology ever considered how their invention would foil love.

Shelby did, however, make other calls. First, she spoke with the service manager at the Lexus dealer, only to learn that once the car was up on the lift, they discovered several minor mechanical problems. They’d call her as soon as the parts came in, whenever that was.

Next, Shelby called her friend Mira in Chicago to pour out her heart and bitch about men.

“Tell me about it,” Mira replied. “The men I date are like savings bonds. They take forever to mature.”

Finally, Shelby called directory assistance for Portland and requested the residential and business numbers for Carol McCreigh. Odd though it was not to be referring to her as Mrs. Lieberman. And even odder that when they connected, the effusive woman was now considerably more subdued.

“Honey, I wish you luck. I really do,” she said. “But the more I tried getting in between those two, the closer they got.”

“Really? You tried driving a wedge between them?” Shelby forced herself not to giggle.

“Even at the wedding.” Mrs. McCreigh laughed.

“Don’t tell me you gave a reason why this couple shouldn’t be joined together?”

“Actually what I said was, ‘All in favor say aye!’”

“Oh my God. What happened?”

“Nothing. Everyone looked at me like I was a loon. And after the ceremony, Matthew refused to speak to me.”

“So you understand how I feel,” Shelby whined.

“Of course I do. And believe me, nothing would make me happier than to see you two together again. But, honey, my hands are tied.”

“I know.” Shelby sighed.

“There is one thing though,” Mrs. McCreigh hesitated. “I’m not sure if it means anything.”

“What is it?” Shelby’s skin tingled. She loved hearing sources utter those words.

“I think it was two years ago that Gwen had an affair.”

“With her best friend’s husband?”

“Yes. I’m surprised Matthew told you about it.”

“He didn’t,” Shelby said. “I happen to be an expert on debutantes. They either go for their best friend’s husband or their husband’s best friend. They never venture too far from the club.”

“How convenient,” Mrs. McCreigh said dryly. “Anyway, a few months later they reconciled, and Matthew moved back home.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Shelby asked.

“Because when I was in, Matthew happened to mention that same best friend and her husband were filing for divorce.”

“Did he seem…. concerned?” Shelby’s heart skipped.

“Matthew never seems concerned, dear. That’s part of his charm. But if I was him, I’d be worried as hell.”

It was the best news Shelby had heard in days. If Matty and Gwen’s marital boat could run aground once, then surely it could sink. In the meantime she was treading in her own sea of confusion and pain. Would Matty ever swim safely ashore, far away from his stormy marriage?

 

Maria knocked on the guesthouse door, only to have to let herself in when Shelby didn’t answer. Sure enough, Little Miss Mommy-to-be was sprawled across the bed, looking peaceful at last, after a week of walking around in a tearful fog.

“Miss Shelby, wake up child,” Maria gently shook her shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Leave me alone.” Shelby opened one eye and rolled over. “I’m sleeping.”

“But, Miss Shelby. You have to get up. There’s a man here to see you.”

“You’re kidding,” she grumbled. “What time is it?”

“Just past eight. Here. I brought you some tea.” Maria pulled Shelby up with one, strong arm, and handed her the steaming cup. “Oooh it’s cold in here, child. The heat should have come up by now.”

“I turned it off,” Shelby sipped the weak tea, sorry it wasn’t Lauren’s eye-opening brew. “It got so hot in here I couldn’t breathe…Who’s here? And please spare me the lip about askin’ not being your job.”

“I didn’t have to ask. I could see plain as day. It’s the man with your mother’s car.”

“How can that be? No one ever called me for directions. Where is he?”

“Out front.”

“Oh, God,” Shelby groaned as she threw on her long, flannel robe and slippers. “Why now? I finally fell back asleep…”

“You can’t go outside like that.” Maria stood with hands on hips.

“I can too! I’m just running out to give the guy a check. Then I’m going right back to bed.”

“But it’s November, child. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

“I’ll take my chances, because I’m sure as hell not getting dressed, just so I can go talk to some greasy mechanic with bad teeth. Believe me, this guy didn’t dress for me!”

But Shelby was wrong. And she knew it the instant she marched down the driveway. For there was no greasy mechanic waiting by the car. Not even highbrow Westchester auto dealers employed handsome, well-dressed men who came bearing flowers.

“Matty?” Shelby shivered as the wind whipped through her flimsy bathrobe, and her already disheveled hair blew across her face. “What are you doing here?”

“The car was ready. And you forgot these the other day.” He gave her the wilted bouquet.

“Thank you.” She sniffed the flowers. “What do you know? They’re still dead.”

“Yes, but I hear if you put them in a dry vase for a day, they get really good and dead.”

“I’ll remember that.” Shelby tried to stifle a yawn.

“I’m sorry.” He shuffled his feet. “Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay. I have a million things to do today,” she lied.

“You look beat. Have you been working hard?”

“Yes, that’s it. Hard work…and no sleep.”

“Same with me.” He looked down.

“Why didn’t you call to say you were coming?” She glanced down at her furry slippers and winced.

“For what? Directions?”

“Good point.” Shelby smiled. “Okay, why didn’t you call me at all?”

“I was afraid.”

“Of what? My feelings for you?”

“No, of my feelings for you. Then I was afraid if I asked to see you, you’d say no.”

“I would never say no.” Shelby wrapped her arms around her-

“Is there someplace we could talk?” Matty asked. “Preferably somewhere with heat?”

“Sure. I’m staying out back. It’s nothing like the guesthouse at your place, but…”

He scooped her up and carried her across the backyard.

“Put me down. I’m too heavy for you,” Shelby squealed.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” he laughed. “We can’t take the chance of ruining those lovely slippers.”

Shelby laughed, too, then cried, painfully aware a runny nose would only enhance her lovely image as a housefrau in flannel, with puffy eyes and morning hair. Trouble with her, she had recently discovered, was that once the faucet opened, it was a gusher.

When Matty gently put Shelby down, he wiped her tears with his hand. “I don’t remember you being the crybaby,” he teased. “That was my department. Remember?”

“Yes.” She sniffed. “Everything made you cry. Like the time Wendy accidentally spilled her milk bottle on your head? We thought you’d never recover.”

“I didn’t. I still belong to a support group for people with dairyosis.”

“You look fine to me.” Her heart raced as she wondered how long she could just stand there without ripping the clothes off his irresistible body.

“This is a little awkward.” He looked around, wondering where to sit. The only place without clothes strewn over everything was the bed. “And is it just me, or is it freezing in here?”

“I was roasting, so I shut off the heat.” She rubbed his arm. “But I can heat things up.”

“Please don’t get the wrong impression, Shelby.” He blushed. “I didn’t come here to…”

“Yes, but in case you’ve come to tell me we can never be together, I want a consolation prize.” She began to tug at his navy cashmere sweater. “Just once I want to see you naked.”

Matty closed his eyes and smiled up at the heavens. “I want you
more than you could possibly imagine, Shelby, but I really think we need to talk…”

“Absolutely.” She threw his sweater on the bed and nimbly unbuttoned his oxford shirt, exposing his broad, muscular chest. “Let’s talk.” She fingered his dark curls.

“I take it you’re happy to see me?” He caressed her face.

“I’ll be happier when I see all of you.” She unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and let his pants drop to the floor.

“At the doctor’s, they let me take my shoes off first.”

“Well, this isn’t the doctor, and you’re not in Kansas anymore.” She stepped back to examine her masterpiece. “You are beyond gorgeous.” She stood on tiptoes to kiss him.

“So, I pass the test?” He actually looked worried.

“You’re perfect,” she whispered.

“Permission to stay?”

“I’m ordering you to stay.” She quickly removed his shoes, then his pants, and gazed at the stunning man before her. His physique was so perfectly proportioned and strong, his maleness so alluring, no way would she be able to keep her hands off the merchandise.

“Is it my turn?” He nervously reached to untie the belt on her robe. “I’ve had a fantasy or two myself over the years.”

She nodded yes, praying he wouldn’t be turned off by her protruding belly. At least her ample breasts, tiny waist, and long, curvy legs remained hot items.

Slowly, Matty removed her robe, and lifted her nightgown over her head. Now it was his turn to gaze at his childhood friend, today a ravishing work of art, chiseled to perfection.

“I’m pregnant, remember.” She bit her lip. “And I haven’t even brushed my hair yet…”

“When I was about nine or ten I used to daydream about how you would look as a woman, and I had a hell of a good imagination. But never in my wildest dreams did I envision you this beautiful.” He pulled her toward him and kissed her hungrily.

Shelby returned the kiss with the same unbridled passion, crying out when he caressed her breasts and licked her taut nipples. By now she was so aroused and flush with desire, she tore off his boxers and fondled him.

“It’s been so long,” he moaned. “I may not be able to hold it…”

“Shhh…” Shelby touched his lips. “I don’t care.”

Matty swiftly delivered Shelby to her bed. There he knelt before her, kissing her thighs and nibbling at her panties until they were wet with anticipation. Shelby pulled him on top of her.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered. “Maybe we should stop.”

“No way.” She squeezed him until he cried for mercy. “When you come play at Shelby’s house, you have to play what she wants, remember?”

“What I remember”—he laughed—“is that we played what you wanted at my house, too.”

“Exactly. Now keep going, or else.”

“Well if you put it that way.” He laid her back down.

“There is one thing.” She ran her hands down his warm, muscular thighs.

“Do I have a condom?”

“No, a cell phone.”

“You thought of someone you’d like to call right now?”

“No, I want to make sure it’s turned off.”

“I left it in the car with my pager.” He reached over to tease her clit with his middle finger.

“And what about a condom? Did you listen to your mother?”

“No,” he groaned, falling back into the pillows.

“Bad boy.” She smacked his firm ass. “You should always listen to your mother.”

“Shelby, trust me, I didn’t think you’d want to speak to me, let alone make love to me.”

“Oh, what the hell?” She mounted him. “It’s not like I can get pregnant.”

“No, wait. We can’t take any chances,” he cried with anguish as he lifted her off. “I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you in some way…”

“I appreciate your concern, but what if I assured you every man I’ve been with was wrapped and double-wrapped?”

“Shelby…I can’t give you the same guarantee.”

“What do you mean?” She stopped. “How many other women have you been with?”

“Just Gwen,” he stroked her hair. “But she’s been with…another man…Let’s be safe.”

“Damn! You’re right. We have to act responsibly. But I want you so badly…”

“Oh, believe me, ma’am. I’m at your service.” He slowly ran his tongue from her naval to her sunbelt region.

“Oh! My! God!” Shelby cried out. “I’m melting…”

It was amazing how creative two motivated people could get when they desperately wanted to engage in risk-free orgasms. Exhausted, they lay breathless and limp, daring not to move for fear of altering the dreamlike state that had enveloped the room.

Still, even the most artful lovers need nourishment, and when they finally emerged, Maria was standing by, pleased to be called upon to whip up her famous country fried eggs. She had always been partial to handsome men with large appetites, but was even more gratified watching Shelby devour her cooking, as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. Which she hadn’t. Kvell. Yes, that would be the word Mrs. L would have used at a moment like this.

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