Here Comes Trouble (37 page)

She scooted herself to the top of the bed and rested her shoulders against the headboard. The words,
My darling Lacy
jumped out at her first.

With her heart in her throat, Lacy read her mother’s last words to her:

In a box with my old belongings, I have a picture of you swaddled in a hospital blanket just after you were born. Your skin was bluish-purple and your hair was so fair it almost looked nonexistent. As far as babies go, you weren’t the most attractive thing in the world and, you had a set of lungs on you that could have put Pavarotti to shame. But moments after laying eyes on you, I knew I held the most beautiful part of me in my hands.

You’re an adult now and I can only speculate how beautiful a woman you’ve grown into. Were you blessed with my lean body and cursed with my boring, straight hair? These are things I will never know the answers to and I only have my own shortcomings to blame for that. I can also only wonder as to what you must think of me.

This isn’t a letter of apology or explanation. My guess is you have such little memory of me or your life before I left that you’ve gotten to the point where “sorry” is pretty much useless. The only explanation I can offer is this: when you were born I was in a very bad place in my life. This had nothing to do with your arrival in the world. At that point, I didn’t have the common sense to make good life choices, with the exception of giving birth to you. You most likely don’t remember this, but by the time you were three years old I had slipped far past any recognizable form of myself. In any event, I felt leaving Trouble and my loved ones was the best decision for everyone.

As for your father, Dennis isn’t the most responsible person in the world but he loves you. Despite his behavior I know he will no doubt display in the years to come, he does love you. And you have a grandfather who worships the ground you walk on. You are Ray’s only grandchild and the apple of his eye. I’m sure he took good care of you in a way neither your father or I could.

I’m sending Megan to meet you and deliver a few things to you. When she was a child, she reminded me so much of you, it hurt my heart to look at her. She’s grown into a wonderful young woman. But she will be confused and hurt when she learns of your existence. Go easy on her, Lacy. It’s not her fault. One day the two of you will be the only family each other has left. I want to leave this world knowing my two girls have grown to love each other.

This seems a little premature, but if I should pass away, I want you to have something of me. I know money is impersonal, but right now, it’s all I have to give. This is your money and you’re free to do whatever you want with it. I don’t blame you if your anger toward me prevents you from taking it. Donate the money if you would like. Or take it and do something nice for yourself. Buy a house, go on a vacation, save it for your children, if you have them. Either way, the money is yours and I want you to have it without feeling any sort of attachment or obligation.

I love you my dear Lacy. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better mother.

Lacy’s trembling fingers crumpled the letter into a tight, wrinkled ball. Why did she have to care so much? Why did those words have to slice her heart in two so that she bled dry? Why couldn’t this be an insignificant piece of paper from a meaningless person?

Her teeth ground together as her eyes filled with unwanted, damnable tears. Her eyelids pressed tight together to prevent the moisture from leaking over. So many tears had formed from years of wondering, speculating, always asking why that they finally trickled over and ran down her cheeks. She hiccupped once, then again as a never-ending stream flowed down her face and fell to the bed beneath her. Chase’s shoes scuffed along the carpet as he moved toward the bed. Lacy forced her eyes open and looked at him through distorted, blurry vision.

When he reached the edge of the bed, she chucked the wadded up paper at him and it bounced off his chest. “Why did you make me read that? I was doing just fine.”

“No, you weren’t.”

She crawled clumsily on her knees until he was within reaching distance. Her weak hands curled into angry fists again and came down hard on his chest. She pounded on his thick muscles once, then again. “How do you know? How the hell has anyone ever known?” Her fingers dug into his crisp white work short. “I don’t care about this anymore. She’s nothing to me. She’s
never
been anything to me.”

He wrapped both warm, comforting hands around her face. “We both know that’s not true.” His thumbs stroked back and forth over her wet cheeks. “You don’t have to be iron-clad all the time, Lace.”

“It hurts too much if I’m not.”

His arms came around her like an old, comforting security blanket. They surrounded her in strength and love that had always been missing in her life. Her head dropped down to his shoulder and her arms went around his torso. He held her while she emptied everything she had inside her. All the hurt, loneliness and confusion that had plagued her for the better part of her adult life poured out of her. Chase, bless his big, mushy heart, remained silent and maneuvered the two of them back on the bed. He somehow got them into a vertical position with her head resting on his chest and his arms cocooning her. The tears eventually subsided to a point where she had some semblance of control once again. When was the last time she’d allowed herself that kind of release? More importantly, when was the last time she’d allowed anyone else to see that precious vulnerability?

When the last tear had leaked out, Lacy took in a shuddering breath and allowed the sweet arms of sleep to take her.

Sometime later, when even the moon had retired for the night and left her room in inky blackness, Lacy blinked her gritty eyes open. While she’d slept, Chase had pulled the bed sheets up over both of them. Her left leg was tossed over both of his. One of his hands rested on her hip and the other was folded up behind his head. Only when his thumb glided back and forth over the exposed skin above her cotton shorts, did she realize he was awake.

“Why did you do all that for me?” she asked him in the dark.

“Other than the fact that you’re carrying my child?”

“Yes.”

“Because you needed it.”

She floated her fingers across his bare stomach. “That’s not why.”

His flat belly moved up and down in the even rhythm of breathing while he waited to answer. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Lacy drifted to sleep with a smile on her lips.

****

The vast nothingness of dreamless sleep Chase had slipped into was interrupted by a muted sound coming from far away. Degree by slow degree he sifted through the layers of unconsciousness and found his way back to reality. He forced one heavy eyelid open and found his surroundings as black as his empty mind. Then the same sound that woke him kept him from dropping his eye closed. He rolled onto his back and dug the heel of his hand into his eye sockets. His eyes blinked several times until the red glowing numbers of the clock came into focus. Almost four-thirty. Had almost the entire night really passed?

This time the vibrating of his phone was unmistakable. Who in the world would want to talk to him at this hour? The device jittered across the nightstand again. Chase pulled his left arm from underneath Lacy, grabbed the phone and held it up to his ear.

“What?” he asked in a voice gravelly with sleep.

“The restaurant’s been broken into. Get down here.” Even at four-thirty in the morning the harsh, demanding tone of his father’s voice grated on Chase’s tired nerves.

He lifted his head up off the pillow. “What?” he asked again.

“Just get down here.” The call ended without any further pertinent information from his old man.

He took the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen. Had he heard his father correctly or had Chase never really woken up? He dropped the phone back to the nightstand and rubbed his eyes one more time. Moving slowly so as not to wake Lacy, Chase swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His clothes lay in a pile where he’d discarded them after Lacy drifted off to sleep. He dressed quickly, grabbed his phone and walked out the front door.

A familiar and comforting calm hovered in Lacy’s aging neighborhood. Black iron light posts highlighted the cracks and lumps in the concrete sidewalk. Chase tossed his keys from hand to hand as he lumbered toward his truck. He probably should have left Lacy a note. They were at that point in their relationship that was beyond the early morning slip-out. The thought of confusion or hurt clouding those stunning green eyes made something sharp twist in his gut. On second thought, he spun on his heel, slipped back into the house and scrawled and brief but explanatory note. He was better than that; better than leaving her with a wam-bam thank you-ma’am feel. Especially after his admission last night.

Chase let himself out of the house once again, then climbed into his truck. After turning the key, he backed out of the driveway and headed toward the restaurant.

Did he regret admitting he was in love with her? Absolutely not. Not even her silence could damper his confidence. She loved him. She might not be comfortable enough to say the words to him, but the small tilt of her mouth as her eyes had drifted shut told him what he needed to know. His words hadn’t left her unaffected. All he needed to do was give her the time she needed to make the same declaration. And she would. She’d changed too much in the past several months for her not to. He didn’t want to toot his own horn or anything but Chase liked to think he played a small part in her shift. She’d jumped the largest hurdle last night by finally letting go of her most burdening demon. If he hadn’t all but shoved the letter in her hands, the thing probably would have ended up in the garbage.

Lacy had been too wrapped up in the past to admit she needed that release. Lynette Taylor held shackles around her daughter for long enough. Chase had needed to see those restraints fall off Lacy for good. True, he’d exposed a very raw wound that would no doubt bleed for a while. But Lacy was the strongest person he knew. She’d bounce back from this and be a better person for it. And he intended to be by her side while she worked on patching up that side of her.

Not ten minutes later, he maneuvered his truck into the smooth parking lot of McDermott’s. Flashing red and blue lights spun in the dark night and bounced off the neighboring buildings. He pulled his car next to his father’s and entered the building. Chase braced himself for Martin’s thunderous temper. A volcano lurked just beneath the surface that tended to erupt when pushed far enough. Nine times out of ten, Chase had been the one to force the steam to come flying out of his father’s ears. Now, Martin had a legitimate reason for blowing a gasket. Nobody, but nobody messed with his business. The restaurants were the old man’s ultimate pride and joy; a reward for all the years of sweat, money and stress he’d poured into the establishments.

A handful of uniformed officers mingled about the dining area. His father stood with his arms tightly crossed over his barrel chest, speaking in low tones to a man in a wrinkled suit. Chase approached them and waited for them to finish their conversation.

“This is my son, Chase,” his father introduced Chase to the other man. “He runs things here. Would you mind giving us a minute before you take her away?” he asked the suit.

Take her away?

The man slid a silver pen into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. “I’ll give you three minutes.”

Chase turned to his father when the officer left them alone. “What happened here?”

“She stole Henry’s keys. The new alarm system went off when she came in. Because it’s a silent alarm, she had no idea she’d triggered anything. But the Trouble police were immediately alerted, and they contacted me.”

Nothing made sense. “Who stole Henry’s keys? What the hell is going on?”

Martin jerked his head to the left. Chase’s eyes danced over the officers and empty tables until landing on an occupied chair. Slumped over like a dejected, scolded child was Diane. Her dark choppy hair stood up in a frizzy, uncombed manner. Giant holes in her faded blue jeans revealed thick, pale knees. Shiny, silver handcuffs circled her round wrists, which were tucked between her stocky legs.

Chase whipped his gaze back to his father. Deep lines of tension bracketed the old man’s thin mouth. “Tell me I’m seeing things.”

“You try talking to her. She won’t say a word to me.”

Chase’s eyebrows twitched. “What did she say to when you caught her?”

Martin lifted one shoulder. “She just kept apologizing. She didn’t even put up a fight when I called the cops. It was almost like she wanted to get caught.”

Diane’s hadn’t so much as lifted her head since Chase walked in the doors. He scrubbed a hand down his scratchy chin and slowly ate up the space between them. When he stopped in front of her, she still didn’t look up. Her head stayed bowed and her chest expanded and fell with each deep breath she took. Without saying a word, Chase pulled up a nearby chair and straddled it. He folded his hands across the top and stared at Diane’s unruly hair.

What in the world could he say to her?
How could you? What were you thinking?
Such things were moot now and a waste of everyone’s time. Plus, Chase already knew the answers to that. Someone who had fallen on such desperate times as Diane would not be thinking clearly. Most likely her only thoughts were putting food in her children’s mouth. Of course, there were other ways of accomplishing this. If she’d approached him from the beginning, they could have worked something out. Maybe a raise or...what? Hell, there was nothing Chase could have done. The only raise he could have offered would have been pennies more compared to what she needed to replace her husband’s lost income.