At Peace (43 page)

I was grateful he’d been around for all of us
when we got the news about Sam. I’d thank Cal one day, when I felt
stronger and if he wasn’t currently moving house in order to get
away from the crazy Winters women whose business kept butting into
his lonely, fucked up life.

“Mom!” Keira shouted again, this time with
heavy impatience and unmistakable irritation.

“I’m coming!” I shouted back, giving one last
look at my outfit in the mirror.

I’d never spent more money on an outfit in my
life and didn’t suspect I’d ever be in a position to do it again. A
dark gray, light wool dress and little matching jacket. The dress
was tight everywhere, scooped neck, short sleeves, a thin,
fabric-covered belt at the empire waist. The little jacket that
went with it was tailored beautifully and fit like it was made for
me with a double row of classy ruffles at the bottom back.

I’d bought it for Tim’s funeral knowing
I’d never wear it again, not ever and still spending a fortune on
it. I was on such a mission to find the perfect outfit; I went to
so many stores all over Chicago that I’d lost count. I was obsessed
with it, almost frantic. I wanted to give Tim that, to go to his
service, his funeral and the gathering afterward being what I was
to him, his pretty, sexy wife who made an effort. It was good I
did. Someone got a photo of me in my outfit and it was in the
paper. The public got off on grief like that, the fallen cop doing
his job for the citizenry, losing his life protecting the people
and the grieving wife he left behind.

Now, fuck me, I was wearing it again.

For Sam.

My beautiful Sam.

I closed my mind from that, limped from the
bathroom into the bedroom and grabbed my purse from the bed, not
looking forward to driving four hours there and four hours back. I
was so damned tired, not sleeping, my mind filled with garbage. And
my foot hurt, I couldn’t imagine it being pressed on the
accelerator for eight hours. I’d have asked Kate to drive, at least
part of it, but she looked more worn out than me.

So it was me who had to drive.

Mike asked if he could take us but I said no.
He’d never met Sam and he’d have to take a day’s vacation from
work. Those days should be for fun, not funerals.

He was not happy about this, not even a
little bit, and he let me know that fact. This was not easygoing
Mike behavior. He was definitely staking his claim and I wondered
if he’d heard about Cal. If I had it in me, which I didn’t at the
time, I would have told him he had nothing to worry about, not
anymore, not ever again.

In the end, I’d gentled my refusal and
told him to take a day off when he and I could have fun. He didn’t
like this either but he didn’t fight me on it likely because he was
a good guy and he didn’t want to have our first fight the day after
I found out my only, and beloved, sibling had been murdered just
like my husband,
exactly
like Tim
(Colt had told Mike this, Dad having told Colt, and Mike told
me).

I snatched up my pumps from the bed and
headed to the door. I was wearing flip-flops until I had to force
on the pumps. I was not looking forward to that but then again
there was pretty much nothing I was looking forward to that
day.

I walked out of my room and Keira was
standing just outside my door.

“Mom!” she snapped even though I was standing
right there.

“What, baby? I’m right here,” I replied.

Then I felt him, I looked to my right and my
mouth dropped open.

Cal was standing there wearing a black suit
and a dark gray shirt that matched my dress almost perfectly. A
shiny tie the same color as his shirt was dangling loose around his
neck, his shirt was open at the throat.

I’d never seen him in anything but t-shirts
and jeans, except when he was naked, of course. He looked really
good in a suit and his suit was amazing. He might not spend a lot
of money on his usual wardrobe but even I could see that suit cost
some cake.

“We have to get going,” his deep voice
rumbled at me.

“What?” I asked, confused by his suit, his
presence and his words.

“Joe’s taking us. I called and asked him
yesterday,” Kate, who was standing close to Cal, explained to
me.

In silent shock, my eyes went to her and when
they did she slid closer to Cal. Then I felt my eyes grow wide as
her hand reached for his and curled around it.

Cal didn’t pull away, in fact, his fingers
curled around hers too.

When they did, she leaned her shoulder into
his arm.

Holy fuck, what the freaking
hell
was this?

“I –” I started.

Cal cut me off. “We gotta get on the
road.”

“But –”

“Let’s go, buddy.”

“Oh!” Kate cried suddenly, her head tipping
back to look at Cal. “I need to make you a sandwich. We all have
sandwiches because we’re not gonna stop. I didn’t know what to make
you. Do you want ham and cheddar, turkey and swiss or roast beef
and swiss or all of the above?”

“I’ll eat whatever you make, girl,” Cal said,
looking down at her.

“Okay,” she replied, let go of his hand and
ran gracefully on her high-heeled, black slingbacks to the
kitchen.

“Mom!” Keira hissed, leaning toward me, eyes
narrowed, clearly not pleased at this remarkable turn of events.
Obviously Kate hadn’t shared her plan with her sister.

“
Um…” I said to Cal, “can we talk a second
in my room?”

“Nope,” he replied and remained unmoving.

“Keira, get Joe a coffee for the road. He
takes it black,” Kate called from the kitchen.

Keira glared at me then glared at Cal and,
obviously feeling the need for an unusual show of decorum in the
face of the day’s events, she decided against throwing a tantrum
but still, she stomped to the kitchen.

I limped to Cal and got close.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Takin’ you and the girls to Sam’s
funeral.”

“But –”

His hand came to the side of my neck and
squeezed so further words froze in my throat.

His head dipped down so his face was in mine.
“You’re dead on your feet, baby. You gotta get there safe, you
gotta get home safe. I’m seein’ to that,” he said softly. “Now, get
your ass in the car.”

“Cal –”

His hand tightened on my neck, it felt
reflexive but it was strong enough to make a point so I again shut
up.

His face got even closer when he ordered,
“You call me Joe.”

I stared up at him and I knew my mouth was
hanging open but I’d lost the knowledge as to how to close it.

He let me go and turned away.

I stood there and I didn’t know what to
do.

I looked into the kitchen and Kate was
bustling around, wrapping up a sandwich so huge Dagwood Bumstead
would be in throes of ecstasy then grabbing an extra bag of chips
then going to the fridge to get another pop and finally pulling out
two more candy bars. Obviously my daughter thought Cal being a
mountain of a man; he’d have a mountain of an appetite. Then again,
when he was over for breakfast, he ate six rashers of bacon with
his four pancakes so she probably wasn’t wrong. She shoved it all
in the cooler as Keira jerked a travel mug at Cal, her other hand
wrapped around mine.

“We ready?” Cal asked the Winters girls.

“I am,” Kate announced, hefting up the
cooler.

Cal carried his travel mug to Kate, took the
cooler from her and walked out the side door.

Kate followed.

Keira glared at me then she followed.

I stood there a few seconds then I went to
the door, armed the alarm, closed it, locked it then limped to the
Mustang.

The girls were already in the cramped back,
the cooler between them, Cal was bent double, adjusting the
driver’s seat, my door was open.

I limped to the car, got in and slammed my
door.

Cal folded himself in beside me and slammed
his.

Keira shoved my travel mug between the seats
and snapped, “Here.”

I took it, muttering, “Thanks, baby. You take
Mooch over to Pearl’s?”

“Yeah,” she replied then sat back on a verbal
huff.

Cal hit the ignition and the car roared to
life.

His arm went around my seat as he backed out
and I kept my eyes glued to the windscreen as he did this.

He twisted the car into the road, took his
arm from my seat, changed gears and we were on our way.

Well, one thing I could say about this,
the
only
thing, was
at least I didn’t have to drive.

* * * * *

Violet fell asleep the minute they hit I-65
outside Lebanon.

The girls had their sandwiches just outside
Merrilville, Kate unwrapping his in a way he could eat the massive
creation without half of it falling in his lap. She handed him his
Coke, she opened a bag of chips for him and she half unwrapped a
candy bar to finish his enormous lunch (he’d had to refuse candy
bar number two).

Keira, when he caught her eyes in the
rearview mirror, glared at him or, when he didn’t catch them, he
saw she was staring out the window, her expression set to sad.

Both girls were quiet, maybe because they
were deep in their thoughts but probably because their mother was
sleeping.

As they hit the affluent area of Chicago
where the service was being held, Kate gave Cal quiet
directions.

He turned in, the lot already mostly full,
mourners looking their way as they pulled in, eyes staying glued to
the Mustang as he found a space.

Cal got out, pulled forward his seat and
looked in the back.

“Both of you, out this side,” he ordered
quietly.

Kate scrambled out. Keira threw some attitude
with her eyes then scrambled out after her sister.

Cal put the seat back and got in the car.
Then he leaned into Vi and put a hand to her knee.

“Honey, wake up.”

He squeezed her knee as her eyes fluttered
then she came to with a start.

She straightened in her seat and looked
around.

“We’re already here?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, baby.”

Her head slowly turned to him and she
blinked. Then her chin tipped and she looked at his hand at her
knee.

Cal gave it another squeeze but didn’t move
it.

“You want a sandwich before we go in or do
you just wanna go in?”

Her confused eyes came back to him and she
said, “I have to put on my shoes.”

He looked at her feet in flip-flops and
then back to her.

“You have them on.”

She shook her head, unbuckled her seatbelt,
reached an arm to the floor and came up holding a pair of spike
heeled, sexy black pumps.

Cal’s eyes went from the shoes to her face.
“Buddy, you’re not fuckin’ wearin’ those shoes.”

“Yes I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“But, I am.”

“You aren’t.”

She leaned toward him and whispered, “I
can’t wear flip-flops to Sam’s funeral.”

“You got stitches in your foot,” Cal pointed
out.

“So?”

“Vi.”

“Cal.”

He felt his mouth go tight as he squeezed her
knee again.

They needed to have words, he knew that, not
now, later, when she was herself again. When this shit didn’t weigh
heavy on her mind. When he could tell her the state of play had
changed pretty fucking significantly. It had changed in a way that
Haines’s fucking SUV wouldn’t stay parked in her drive all night.
It had changed in a way that her ass would never be in that SUV
again. It had changed in a way that she’d stop fucking calling him
Cal and use his goddamned name like she used to.

But they’d have words later.

Now he needed to get her to her brother’s
service.

“
Put ‘em on,” he gave in, taking his hand
from her knee, “let’s go.”

“I’ll be out in a second,” she replied.

“What?” Cal asked as he buttoned the collar
of his shirt.

“I’ll be out in a second.”

“Vi, just get a move on.”

“Cal, I said, I’ll be out in a second.”

Cal sighed and knifed out of the car. Then he
threw the door to.

He made short work of knotting his tie,
something he hated, preferring to have his fingernails torn out at
the roots. Not that that had ever happened but he was sure he’d
prefer it. The minute he was done, Kate moved into him and shoved a
shoulder under his arm so he had no choice but to slide it around
her shoulders.

Another thing that Kate did that she got from
Violet.

Keira took a step back and looked away.

His brilliant idea with Nadia clearly didn’t
go down so well with Keira, exactly as he’d intended.

Jesus, he wasn’t a dick, he was an asshole
and he had some serious fucking work to do.

“She okay?” Kate whispered, peering into the
window to look at her Mom.

“No,” Cal told her the truth.

Kate’s arm around his waist flexed and he
gave her shoulders a squeeze.

Then he saw through the window why Vi wanted
him out.

She was sliding up a pair of black,
lace-topped, thigh high stockings.

He tore his eyes away.

He’d had two and a half months without her,
without any woman, and it felt like two hundred fucking years.

Minutes later, her door slammed and she
limped around the car, going to Keira and putting her arm around
her. Cal studied her as she did this. Only Vi could go to a funeral
looking like a classy sex kitten. The jacket was sweet, the tight
dress sweeter and those fucking heels were unbelievably hot, even
though it pissed him off she was wearing them.

Before he got his head sorted, Kate hustled
Cal toward her mother and sister and she slid her arm around her
Mom’s waist. This meant while they walked up to the front doors
with a number of people watching to the point they were staring,
they did it in a row, arms around each other.