Holly
“Wow, he’s hot.” Roger voiced his opinion as soon as the three stooges departed.
“You crushing on Marty?” I asked.
“No. But I wouldn’t mind playing doctor with Garret.”
“The kid?”
“He can’t be all that young. He’s a licensed physician and it takes a long time to become a medical doctor,” Megan said thoughtfully.
“Roger, you think he might have noticed you?” I asked casually.
“Not in this lifetime.” He surprised me with his wistful stare.
“Want me to try and hook you up?” Megan asked.
“Your last date arranging didn’t turn out so well.” I glared at Megan. “What are you, a matchmaker now? Keep this up and Maxine will go out of business.”
“You and Marty seemed pretty cozy during your dance. He’s not a womanizer like some of the crew. And he’s got money. You could do worse.” Megan’s mercenary tendencies were urging my kitchen upgrade designer genes to take advantage of a man who could afford any faucets I chose.
“Just how do you know so much about Marty?” I asked. Her knowledge of the Smoke, Inc. building I could understand. But her information about the owner, I didn’t quite follow.
“Teague,” she muttered. “And no, I don’t want to talk about him.”
I assumed Teague to be the man who’d claimed Megan as his woman, the night of my puke-a-thon.
Because it had been an eventful day, an interesting evening, and a crazier night, I hadn’t gotten around to my announcement to either one of them. I used the moment to rectify that.
“I’m pregnant.”
Megan didn’t look surprised making me wonder if she’d gotten her information via her caveman. Evidently Marty had sent a memo to the entire Smoke, Inc. crew.
“What?” Roger looked totally confused. “How can you be having a baby? You’re still a virgin. Aren’t you?”
“That would be, no.” I didn’t tell him when I returned the dress I’d borrowed for the dance-a-thon. “Sorry, a lot happened since I talked to you last and most of it’s been too weird to share.” I’d had the Marilyn outfit dry-cleaned, hustled it back, and decided to put the incident behind me.
“I had sex and now I’m pregnant.”
“Did I just meet the dad?” Roger asked.
I nodded.
“Marty?”
“Good guess,” Megan answered before I could. “Garret’s gay, and Jack’s ancient, who else could it be? You saw them dance.”
“How do you know Garret’s gay? You keep coming up with this stuff. Are you a Smoke, Inc. groupie or something?” I couldn’t keep the exasperation from my voice.
“Maybe,” Megan answered and shrugged. “They have great parties.”
“So, is it a good thing happening or a bad? Do you want the baby? Is Marty onboard?” Roger’s questions wiped away my irritation at Megan and eliminated the momentary calm I’d gained while dancing.
“I don’t know. Yes. I think so,” I answered his questions in the order he’d asked. “I’m tired,” I told them both. “Beat. I must work tomorrow, so it’s lights out. If you’re staying, find a spot to sprawl. If you’re going, lock the door on your way out.”
“It’ll be okay. We’ll deal together. Let me know what I can do.” Roger smiled, kissed my cheek, and left. Megan lingered.
“Marty will take care of things. With him stopping by tonight, it’s obvious he’s not upset about the baby.”
I didn’t know what Marty would do and was too tired to care.
“He was surprised at finding Roger here,” Megan said.
“You mean jealous,” I corrected her.
“Most people would be upset if they arrived at their lover’s place and found said significant other having a private party.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Marty is not my significant other. I am not looking for a relationship. I told him he’d be high maintenance. I was right.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, girlfriend, things have changed. Sticking your head in the sand won’t make you not pregnant.”
“I want you to go home, Megan. I need some time to myself.” If I said more it wouldn’t be pretty. I left her standing in the kitchen and went upstairs. I didn’t sleep, though. As soon as I heard the outside door open and close, and her car start and drive away, I went back downstairs, checked the front and back doors, then went to sit in my closet.
I didn’t know what to think about. Too much had happened, burying me under so much emotion I could only try to numb myself to keep from feeling anything.
I wanted to cry, but I refused to give into the urge. My head ached from lack of sleep, and yet I sat staring into the dark, eyes wide open. The back door clicked as it opened and closed. The floorboards creaked outside my closet, as footsteps approached.
“Is there room in here for me?” Marty asked as soon as he opened the door.
“Yes, if we both stand.” I stood. I’d moved the sweeper from the closet the day before for unexplained reasons. The same reasons had dictated that I leave the backdoor unlocked and the porch light on.
He stepped into my space and pulled the door shut behind him. I put my hands on his shoulders and turned him so we faced each other. Then I stepped into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his waist as I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest.
I didn’t know how to explain it other than he made me feel safe.
He didn’t say a word. He held me, stroked my hair, and rubbed my back, no funny business, just comfort. He’d done the same thing when we’d danced earlier. I’d gone from head-exploding anxiety to composed calm. I wondered how he’d learned such a thing. Marty had hidden depths.
“My dad was a silent comforter,” I whispered when I finally let go of him and stepped back. “He’d hold me and pat my back when I got upset.”
“He build that bed upstairs?”
“My grandpa. My mom’s dad.” I laughed. The bed was unique. Too big to move, but what a treasure if you were tall and liked to stretch out when you slept.
“You going to invite me into it again?”
“Right now, I need sleep.”
“I can do that.”
“Just sleep?”
He nodded and followed me from the closet up the stairs. “I took the liberty of locking your backdoor.”
I had enough energy left to tilt my head in approval.
“The right side is mine,” I told him, then went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth and pulled on my sleep shirt.
Whether pretend or real I couldn’t tell, but when I climbed into the bed he was already snoring. I don’t know if I snored or not, but I fell asleep.
I half-woke to bands of steel wrapping me in a tight embrace.
“Promise me you won’t leave, again,” Marty muttered against my neck. “Promise me.”
Huh. Even my sleep fuzzy brain knew that didn’t sound right and his hold on me felt frantic, not romantic. While my mind coasted trying to decide whether to sink back into oblivion or switch on for the day, his touch changed from clutching to caressing.
One of his hands cupped my breast, the other left a trail of heat as it slid across my belly. Oh, my. I let my body do the thinking, writhing in his arms as his thumb and fingers tweaked my nipple. His erection pressed against my rump as he held me tighter and nibbled my neck.
“Kitten, sweetheart, I love you so much,” he whispered in my ear.
Kitten, I smiled, rubbing against him, loving the way his big hand petted my belly, making me purr. His lips lingered on a spot behind my ear that had me hot and steaming. Oh yeah. He rumbled stuff, who knows what, as he made love to me. Who knew I liked sex talk. I tuned in for more.
“Oh, baby,” he growled in my ear. “I’ve missed you, Kit.”
Kitten. Kit, as in his wife had been named Kit. Kit as in my wife died, Kit. I ripped myself out of his arms, out of the bed, and into the bathroom. I didn’t need an explanation or a bucket of cold water. I’d been iced down. I shivered and tried to warm myself under a hot shower, but it didn’t help much.
I wanted him to be gone when I came out of the bathroom. He’d dressed and made the bed, but instead of departing, I could hear him downstairs.
My thoughts were scrambled as I hurried to pull on clothes. Before he left, I wanted to tell him not to come back. Shit. My life was so messed up right now.
What kind of inept moron puts the condom on wrong? It wasn’t hard to work up anger at Marty since the whole damned thing was his fault. The thought finally occurred to me that I could have caught more than a baby from him.
On top of everything else, and maybe what pissed me off the most, was, I’d really been getting into the warm and cozy vibes and I’d left myself vulnerable.
Won’t be making that mistake again. I was going to have to find a new closet. Since Marty had occupied mine, it wouldn’t be the same.
I hurried downstairs, hoping he’d gone to the backyard. He seemed fascinated by the swing, undoubtedly it called to his not very inner child.
But no, there he was sitting at my table. He had a notepad in front of him. I recognized it as mine. The one I used to make lists and write down measurements and stuff. I kept it in my side drawer next to the sink. He’d helped himself.
I don’t know why I’d expected him to be embarrassed that he’d called me by his wife’s name. He clearly hadn’t been affected. Maybe he didn’t even realize it had happened. I leaned in the doorway of the kitchen trying to decide what issue to address. I chose one I could handle.
“Stop rummaging through my drawers.”
His eyebrow went up. I detected a smirk on his lips.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked. “You don’t get to take over my life. Are you nuts? What do I have to do to see the last of you?”
He slid the notepad he’d been using across the table to the far edge. I still had to enter the room and walk across the floor to pick it up, which irritated me. He’d made a list. Number one, what a surprise, See a doctor.
Marty
Shit happens alright. Hell. I’d been in deep clover, dreaming about making love to Kit. We’d been together, she’d been real, in my arms, her heat warming the last of the frozen particles from my heart. And then…
I stared at the woman who’d sucked the ice from my veins and apparently into her own. She did not appear happy, sort of like the Road Warrior chick right before she made a kill. I guess I should be grateful Holly was only leaning against the doorframe and glaring at me. She did look sexy.
Yes, no doubt a shrink would point out that I felt conflicted. The dream had been so real, but the real part of it stood in front of me.
Her wet hair hugged tight to her skull outlining the attractive shape of her head. I wondered if she knew a cowlick had sprouted at the back. The way her jeans hung from her hips and tee shirt clung to her tits, it seemed evident she’d still been damp from her shower when she rushed downstairs to have her say before I left. I was glad I’d made my list.
She opened her mouth to speak. I held up my hand, halting her. “First, I have a few issues to discuss concerning the baby.”
At least I got her into the room. When she picked up my list I considered that progress. I don’t like explanations, but it was possible I owed her one.
“I was seventeen when I married Kit Cahill. She was thirty-four. She was pissed off at the cheating sonofabitch she was engaged to and promised him she’d marry the first guy she saw.” I paused, savoring the same smug satisfaction I’d felt then. “I made sure that guy was me.”
Of course, I’d been hard to miss. I stood six feet two by the time I turned fourteen, quit school, and had gone to work for an Alabama oil rigger named Jack Cahill, Kit’s father. I’d developed serious lust for Kit when I saw her the day I was hired. During the next three years, I’d kept growing and so had my crush. I was six feet five by the time Kit made her infamous vow, and I’d already been trying to figure out how to get her attention.
“When I heard Kit, spouting off to Jack, I stepped in front of her and said, ‘I’d be pleased to make you my wife.’ We drove one county over to get married, returned the next day.” Every time Kit had told the story she’d laughed, but it had always been a soft sound of pleasure.
I ached, wishing I could relive that time again, until my glance landed on the woman carrying the baby I hadn’t been able to give Kit. My voice was harsh even to my own ears as I ended my nostalgic reminiscing and told Holly the truth.
“Kit and I were married fifteen years and still would be if she hadn’t died of cancer. Sometimes good things turn to shit.”
“Yeah,” Holly agreed and shrugged. “And your point is?”
“About upstairs. Sorry. I’ve had sex with one woman before you. I’ve slept with one woman before you, the same woman. Before today, the last time I occupied a bed, Kit was in it with me.”
“How long ago was that? How old was she? How old are you, for that matter?”
“She was forty-nine when we lost the battle with cancer. I’m thirty-eight.” The usual feeling of despair threatened to overwhelm me until Miss Sarcastic interrupted my reverie.
“Well if you haven’t been using a bed, where have you been sleeping? A tree? A cave? And for how long?”
“My office.” It was my turn to shrug. “It’s been six years since Kit died.” I crossed my arms on the table and leaned toward her. “I have an idea how we can help each other.”
Holly
Well if that’s true, I guess I don’t have to worry about catching more than I already caught. Relief made me feel dizzy again. At the same time, I had so many things to say, I thought I’d strangle as they all tried to spew from my mouth.
“I looked outside. Your mammoth vehicle is not there. How did you get here?”
“I never left. I was still too drunk to think straight so I sent Garret and Jack on their way. I sat in your swing. Didn’t want to go back to my office.”
“And then you came inside.”
“After your friends left, you turned on the porchlight and unlocked the door. I took that as an invitation.”
Which it had been, even though I’d not known he was already here. It had been more a wistful longing. Darn it, I could feel the edge of my righteous anger slipping away.
I glanced at the list again. Doctor, insurance, income, exercise. The first three items left my stomach in knots and my earlier serenity blown all to hell.
“I get a lot of exercise,” I told him, starting at number four since it didn’t cost anything.
“What, aside from walking and waiting tables which you will not be able to do soon? Which leads us back to income. What is yours?”
“None of your business. And of course, I’ll be able to work.” Anxiety morphed to anger quickly, and I embraced it.
“What else besides waitressing,” he persisted, ignoring my need to fight.
“I work nights, too.” I didn’t miss his beady-eyed stare as he waited for me to explain further. I didn’t. He leaned forward, his jaw jutting aggressively, his posture poised for combat.
“Humble Homes,” I muttered. “Satisfied? Now go away.”
“What the hell do you do there?” Obviously not okay with my answer, he demanded explanation.
“None of your fucking business, you cretin. Stop badgering me and get out.”
“And insurance?” It seemed he wasn’t leaving until we worked our way through his list. Since he was too big for me to evict, I sighed and sat down.
“I don’t have a regular doctor which doesn’t matter because I’ll have to go to a specialist for a baby.”
“A perinatologist,” he inserted.
“What the heck is that?” I really hadn’t heard of that kind of doctor.
“I researched it. It’s a doctor with additional training for high-risk pregnancies.”
“Why would I need a high-risk doctor? I’m fine.”
“We don’t know that until you’ve been to the doctor which we’re arranging right now. We’ll begin with the best; someone with training ready to handle anything. That way we don’t have to break-in a new guy if things develop.”
“First, there won’t be any guys poking around on me. I’ll make an appointment with a female doctor.”
“See, we’re already making progress. You want a woman tending you. Fine.”
“Number two,” I continued without acknowledging his input. “I have insurance. It sucks. I don’t get sick much which is good because the deductible is horrific.” He opened his mouth. Before he could chime in, I cut off his. “Number three. I have three jobs that keep my bills paid. I wait tables, monitor inventory at the HH building and supply company, and substitute teach. Number four. All of the above plus my house renovations give me plenty of exercise.”
I don’t know what I expected. Certainly, not for him to put on a pair of glasses and start scribbling on a piece of paper in front of him.
When he finished, he slid one big hand across the table, pushing a check toward me. Without touching it I leaned forward to see the amount.
Hmmm… Fifteen hundred dollars. “And this would be for…?” Not enough to raise a child alone. Too much for take-out dinner.
“I called a realtor friend. The houses in this area lease for twice that amount per month. I’ll pay you that much to rent a room, so I can be here while you gestate.”
Gestate? “Where the hell do you come up with this stuff? Farm animals gestate. Humans…” Okay, I didn’t know the term for a woman carrying a baby, but gestation just sounded wrong.
“Look it up, baby doll. You’ll find it in the dictionary.”
“I’m not a baby doll,” I snapped, side-stepping the real issue. Fifteen hundred freaking dollars. Each month. Marty rooming with me wasn’t without precedent since he’d rented from Harley-Jane when his first office building burned down.
“Concentrate on what’s important. You’re gestating. You’re the mother of my kid. I planted the seed and one way or another I’m watching him grow.” Marty had reverted to being the overbearing ass I was reluctantly coming to know.
“No.” I stared at the check, itching to grab it up and stuff it in my pocket. Instead, I kept my twitchy fingers away from the money, and fixed my gaze on his chin.
“Yes.” He didn’t even ask me why. Two could play that game.
“No.”
“Look,” he said. “I didn’t force you. We both consented to sex. I personally thought it was great. I’ve done what I can to rectify your first disappointment. If you didn’t like the second taste of me, okay. I can live with never fucking you again. But,” he paused and leaned forward even more. “You don’t get the kid all to yourself. He’s half mine. I’m claiming him. Besides, you need my money to make it happen right.”
I bristled at his tone. It didn’t matter that what he said was mostly true. I felt aggrieved, put-upon.
“I don’t know the gender and neither do you. Stop calling what may be her, a he.”
“A girl’s okay,” he conceded. “I’ll get used to pink.”
“Pink? Stop with the stereotypes. Your age is showing.”
“Just call me Big Daddy,” he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at me.
Jeez, while I wrestled with the image of me curled up on his lap calling him daddy, heat blossomed in my lower regions and lust clouded my mind.
“I won’t be here all that much,” he assured me, adding a bonus to his proposition.
“How much?” The firm hell no resounding in my mind started tipping more toward maybe.
“I’ll be gone on a job next week. That’s why I want to get things worked out now.”
Somehow, we’d gone from no to working things out in less time than it had taken for me to get pregnant. I made a mental note to remember Marty’s negotiating tactics. Bully, coax, bribe.
“I’ll think about it. When you get back, I’ll give you an answer.”
“Not good enough,” he answered immediately.
“Hey, we had sex but I don’t know a darned thing about you other than you’re bossy. And since you’re not my employer, an older relative, or my significant other, you are not my boss.” I paused to think if I’d overlooked anything and added quickly, “And if you were my significant other you still wouldn’t be my boss.” Statement made, I crossed my arms and glared at him.
He gave me his patient, long suffering expression and said, “You’re making this a lot more complicated than it needs to be. Rent me a room, for fuck’s sake. What are you afraid of? You’re virtue’s safe with me.” Okay, so now he’d introduced the scaredy-cat challenge.
I couldn’t help myself. My glance shifted back to the check. It would cover my mortgage payment. My resolve began to crumble which pissed me off even more. Marty was making me see one big fact I’d been trying to avoid. I really wanted this baby and without some frigging miracle, I couldn’t afford it. I assessed the frigging miracle staring at me and made up my mind.
“You are not to stick your nose in my business.”
“Agreed.”
“You cannot hang around where I work and cause trouble.”
“Not a problem.”
“You buy your own food and keep your own messes cleaned up.”
“Of course.” He agreed to every condition I put before him. He was maneuvering me, herding me and I didn’t like it. I couldn’t escape reality though. The baby was made of parts of him as well as me. Poor little thing.
Before either of us could change our minds, I snatched the check from the table and shoved it in my pocket. “Okay. The spare room’s all yours.”
“I don’t get the king size?” He gave me a cocky grin. I bared my teeth at him and he muttered, “Okay, okay, I’ll make do. Baby needs a place to stretch out and grow so I’m not complaining. Still, it’s big enough for two—”
“You talk in your sleep. Not doing that again.” I at least wiped the smug expression from his face. “Going to work, now. Knock yourself out moving your things into the room across the hall.”
“Need a ride? I can call someone to bring the Hummer.”
“No. I need exercise, remember?”
“Do I get a key? Or do you prefer that I climb through a window or slide down the chimney?”
I retraced the mental footsteps that had led to him moving in, wondering if I’d officially gone nuts. Hard as I tried, I could not think of Marty as a stranger. I didn’t know him, but, he and I were going to share a kid. His moving in made as much sense as anything else in my life.
“Do you negotiate contracts for your company?” I asked, handing him a key to my house.
“Yes,” he grunted, giving me a look of disapproval. “You didn’t even haggle. You could have gotten more out of me for the room.”
He pocketed the key and followed me to the door. I expected him to ask when I’d be back. He didn’t. Instead he pulled out his phone and said, “What’s your number?”
“Why do you need my number?”
“I’m a tenant. You’re my landlord. I have a right to be able to contact you if something goes wrong with the plumbing.”
“Nothing is wrong with the plumbing.” I threatened him with my stare, wondering if I should take the key back and kick him out. “Don’t touch my tools or the cupboards. Don’t mess with the house. Just don’t.” But I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it to him.
He looked at the blank screen than at me.
“Push the button on the side,” I told him impatiently.
“Don’t you have to unlock it?”
“No. Just key in your number and give it back.”
“Done,” he grinned, plugging in his number and calling it. As I listened, his phone chimed, and I realized he’d out-maneuvered me again.
Part of me wanted to lock into hunker-down mode, climb in my closet, bar the door, and not come out for a week, maybe more. I needed some serious head time. Too much had happened too quickly, changing my reality overnight.
And yet, I’d given Marty a key to the front door, and his check rode in my pocket. We hadn’t discussed its disbursements because that was none of his business. I bristled at the idea of him monitoring my expenditures and yet, I braced myself for the coming event.
Marty
The mother of my kid didn’t have a bit of common sense. What was she thinking letting an unknown male shack up with her? It had taken me less than a minute to get Holly to give up her cell phone number and hand over a key, confirming my first opinion.
On the other hand, it simplified everything and her readiness to be practical boded well for the future…our future.
I knew I was rushing things, but dammit, having discovered I was going to be a dad, I wanted this with the ferocity of a lion. I refused to slow down for fear I’d lose hold of this miracle.
As soon as my landlord left, I called Jack. “Pick me up at Holly’s.” I puttered around, checked out the bedroom upstairs she’d granted me, and explored the outside more until he arrived in the Hummer. I liked the place. It needed a lot of work. I found a push mower in the utility shed in the corner of her yard. Like the shed, the mower was old but well kept.
It being mid-April, the grass was barely long enough, but I’d mowed half the yard anyway by the time Jack arrived. He sat in the swing while I finished and put the mower away.
“What’s up?” he asked as I brushed green clippings from my pants.
“I’m moving in here today.”
“Fast work. Yours or hers?” He frowned as he studied me.
“Mine. Renting a room from her. I intend to be part of my kid’s life from the get-go.”
“Do you want to know more about your landlord; what she’s been doing and who she’s been doing it with? I can call Hack and ask him to put a rush on this. He owes us a favor.”
Hack was just what his name implied. In a digital/cyber world, Hack could go anywhere. In the real-time space our bodies occupy, his minions served his will.
Last year, the company had been one such minion. We’d extracted Hack’s nephew from a dicey situation. The kid had been wandering through Europe, nosing around where he shouldn’t. He was caught when he’d crossed the wrong border.
Hack orchestrated a rescue without leaving his chair. He’d helped the parents negotiate with the guards turned kidnappers, packed a bag full of money, and paid Smoke, Inc. for a fast, quiet, exchange.
I’d headed the extraction crew. Though the guards had aimed weapons at the helicopter, they hadn’t fired. We’d returned the college boy back to the states for a happy ending.
That, plus the big check we’d all split, had made the job seem easy. But I’d bent more than a few international laws in the process. I felt queasy thinking about that job, so yeah, Hatch owed us. Frankly, he scared the shit out of me.
“How far back you want him to go?” Jack asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“I’d rather keep Hack’s favor unused for now. And what the fuck does it matter where Holly’s been and what she’s done? She’s the mother of my kid.”
I’d seen no sign of drug use, she claimed I was her first fuck, and she wasn’t one of Maxine’s regular escorts. I believed her. But if she’d cut corners on the story of her life, it was up to her to share her truth.
“Whatever Holly wants me to know, she’ll share.” I pointed at the house. “I already know her grandfather lived here.” I thought of the giant bed upstairs and added. “I know he was a big guy. Think about that. My size genes plus Holly’s height genes equal…”
“Equal we better find an extra-long crib before the kid arrives,” Jack answered and grinned.
Jack stayed put for most of the afternoon and though he was not ready to embrace Holly into the fold, I could see he liked her house. He helped me move my clothes from the office before we went shopping.
“So, your rent covers use of the main room?” Jack asked slyly.
“Yep.”
“Do you say that, or does she say that?”
“She can use the chair when I’m not here.” Why the fuck would she care if I stuck a chair in the front room?
I tested the recliners in the furniture store and only found one where my feet didn’t hang over the end when I powered back. It made the choice easy.
“Maybe I should get her one to match,” I’d offered.
“Son. What you don’t want to do is try to redecorate a woman’s space. You won’t like the outcome.”
With that advice in my head, I settled on just the one recliner for the living room. We carted it home and carried it in, angling it, so I could see her front door.
That was when I realized she needed a serious upgrade in the television department. Unless she had it hidden away, she didn’t have one. We remedied that with a 70” curved 4K.
I admit, I enjoyed pretending I belonged in the house. Just being in the place gave me a sense of home I hadn’t experienced since Kit died. I knew the Jack felt it too. We slouched at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and conducting business like we had a right to be here. That was a stretch, and we both knew that too.
“I don’t want to take piss her off and have her kick me out,” I told Jack at one point. Really, it had more to do with fear of being locked out of her life than her house. I didn’t want to fight with the mother of my kid. I wanted to see the day to day progress as the baby developed. Living in the house this way, I’d get to be part of that.
“You’re not gonna be around enough for her to realize what a pain in the ass you are. Quit worrying.” Favoring that advice, after I set aside guilt over making myself comfortable in Holly’s home, we made calls, arranging a company powwow the next day.
“Might as well meet here,” Jack drawled. “Might make the schedule change go down better.” He’d quit testing the limits of my lease when we installed the TV.
Here or somewhere else, the meeting had to happen. While TV shopping, a New Mexico state official caught up with me via phone, requesting Smoke, Inc. travel asap to the out of control fire, raging there, rather than deploying mid-week as planned. I’d promised them we’d be there and working the fire by Monday.
Now I had to break the news to the crew. We’d expected the job to keep us busy until the end of the month. But, they wouldn’t be happy they only had until the end of the weekend to take care of business.
Realizing during the afternoon I had my own personal business to tend, I called the company lawyer and made sure if anything happened to me on this job, my kid and his mama would always be taken care of.
Jack left, and as I wandered around Holly’s yard, I got the attention of one of her neighbors.
“Is Holly moving?”
I studied the old guy leaning on the adjoining fence, trolling for information. When I didn’t volunteer any, he continued. “New furniture? You her boyfriend?” He’d obviously been spying on her for a while.
“Security detail,” I answered and left him standing there to chew on that.
Ten-foot privacy fence, I mentally added to my backyard wish list and retreated to the great indoors to doze in my new chair. I expected Holly to eventually come home from her waitressing job. But, when she hadn’t shown by midnight, I started to worry and made some calls.
Holly
After the sports bar, I still had an eleven-to-seven at my warehouse job, stocking shelves at Humble Homes. After I clocked off at Balls & Bones at 10:30, with a pocketful of tips to add to Marty’s check, I hustled to catch a bus for the ride across town.
I didn’t want to hurt the baby doing something stupid, so I called Garret from the bar. I figured he’d give me some information I could trust, he was free, and I had a card with the clinic’s number on it. I expected an answering service to patch me through. But, he answered immediately.
“Hi, Garret. Sorry to bother you but there’s stuff I need to know about my condition.”
“Are you asking me as a friend or a doctor?” he fired back rapidly. “Because it’s not my specialty.”
“A knowledgeable friend.” Never mind that it was late at night and my behavior rude, I shamelessly used Garret. It was called networking. He’d been in my basement and he was a friend of Marty’s. Marty was more than a friend, but not in a known category. While I pondered our connection, Garret grunted, which I accepted as encouragement.
“How much weight can I lift?”
“Please tell me you’re not getting ready to bench press a hundred pounds.”
“Nope. Have to do some lifting at my job and just wanted to make sure I—”
“No throwing your partner in the air. Do you perform with him?”
“No. I help him rehearse for his Regina routine.” I grinned, sensing interest on the other end of the conversation. “Roger’s a best friend.”
“Who’s his partner when he performs?” Garret’s voice dropped to a low rumble and I swear I could hear his pheromones calling.
“He chooses someone from the audience.”
“That could be disastrous,” Garret’s sharp response had me grinning. Yep, he was interested.
“You’ll have to tell him so. I’ve pointed that out, but Roger does things his way. Meanwhile, what weight limit would you put on my lifting?”
“Nothing heavier than a tray of glasses,” he answered. “A light tray of glasses.”
“Thank you, Garret. Sorry I called so late.” Not good news but Garret didn’t seem to mind at all that I’d called.
“I was going to call you anyway. Marty ask me to schedule an appointment for you with a pre-natal specialist. Do you have a preference?” His answer confirmed Marty had already begun arranging things.
“Yes. I prefer to choose my own doctor. Thanks for the offer, but your assistance isn’t needed.” I started to hang up.
“Wait,” Garret said, his voice a low, demanding growl.
“What?”
“Your friend, Roger. Can I have his number?”
“No. But, I’ll tell him you asked about him. I’ll give him your number if you want. He gets busy. If he doesn’t call, you should check out his show some Friday night.” I hung up quickly and called Roger.
“What’s up?”
“Garret’s interested.” My matchmaking skills didn’t go any further. “Good luck, Roger. It would be nice to have a doctor in the family.”
I returned to my own problems.
I didn’t know Marty’s end game. Sheesh, I didn’t even know mine. My stomach knotted on thoughts of going home. Though I’d given Marty a key, I hadn’t willingly cohabited with anyone since I was fifteen and departed the group home where I’d lived.
Given Garret’s medical advice, once I arrived at the next job, I told the floor manager that I had a touch of the flu.
“I don’t feel so hot. Kind of ache all over. I hope I’m not infectious. I don’t think I can lift much tonight.” My story must have resonated true, because he stepped back, not wanting to catch whatever I had.
“Use the barcode scanner to track inventory instead of shelving boxes for the night. That way you can get in your hours but not give whatever you’ve got to anyone else.” Not that I could, but hey, my excuse worked.
He pulled out his pen, made notes on the duty roster he kept pinned next to the timeclock and said, “Not a problem. I’ll give Richards the lift and stack detail this time. She loves the crow’s nest.”
I hid my disappointment. I liked riding the lifter and looking over the warehouse from the top shelving.
However, the barcode scanner was an easy job and I wasn’t complaining. I wouldn’t be able to ask for preferential treatment again without saying why. I had a sinking feeling my part time work at Humble Homes would end shortly. I also faced the imminent loss of teaching jobs during the summer months.
With panic nibbling at the edge of my mind, I walked miles through the warehouse, exercising my legs and my thumb. Unfortunately, the mindless task, left my fertile imagination time to revisit sleeping with Marty. My mind probably went there because my body wanted to. My yearning ache to cuddle with him again, translated into some vivid images that kept my mind totally occupied while I worked.
When a row of shelving across the warehouse collapsed, I was jarred from my illicit imaginings. I sprinted down the aisles and across the floor to see what was what. Shit. It was a mess. I arrived in time to help extricate two employees from the wreckage. Neither was dead, both were banged up. Someone called for an ambulance which arrived right before I clocked off at seven.
I left the building exhausted. The adrenaline rush I’d experienced as I’d raced to the rescue, had fizzled to an end. Marty’s Hummer sitting in the parking lot should have pissed me off. Instead, I was profoundly grateful for its presence and for the man leaning against the driver’s side, arms crossed, waiting for me.
“Hey, I could have caught a bus for home,” I said when I reached the SUV.
“Figured I’d kill two birds with one stone,” he drawled. “Came to see if I can use your employee discount to buy a grill. What the hell happened in there?”
“Huh?”
He motioned toward the ambulance, the two stretchers, and the EMT’s loading one of them.
“Oh. Shelving collapsed. I was on the other side of the warehouse.” I felt immediately defensive as he frowned, studying me.
“Yes, you can use my discount.” I agreed quickly to change the subject, then wondered if I’d been maneuvered again. “You’re rich. You don’t need my discount to buy a grill,” I muttered.
“A penny saved is a penny spent elsewhere,” he disagreed. “I already picked out the grill. You need to go pay so I can get my discount.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I couldn’t afford a grill right now but closed it when he handed me a credit card.
“Which grill?” I asked as he drove around to the front of the store.
“They’re holding it for us. Smoke already gets a company discount. Add in your employee discount and we’re saving eighty bucks on this bad boy.”
I’d been working since three the afternoon before. I was hungry, and most of all tired. I wanted to punch him. Instead, I went back into the store, used his card, got the discount, returned with the sales receipt in my hand. “Paid for it.”
“I’ll take care of business. You rest.” He pointed at the Hummer, tailgate open, waiting. I climbed into my ride home, closed my eyes and dozed while he loaded his new toy. At some point, I slept because I woke up when he backed into my driveway and shut the Hummer off.
His arm was around me, my head resting on his chest, my arm around his waist. I’d drooled on his shirt. I saw the wet spot when I sat up.
“Sorry,” I murmured, scooting over the seat to get out. I headed for my bed and left him dealing with the box protruding from the back of his vehicle.