Miles for Love Series Box Set, page 116
I frown. “Maybe I will. Once I’ve got one problem resolved, the doors are all opened.”
There’s that look again. “Man, Frankie, what is it with you?”
“What did I say?”
“You’re just…different. You’re like Mallorie and Ripley and my brothers, all rolled into one.”
I choose my words carefully. “Is that a…good thing?”
“Totally. It’s an awesome thing.”
The waitress that was hitting on Grant earlier walks by, giving him bedroom eyes again. “Okay, I’m going to go give her your phone number now.” I say flatly. “That’s a sure lay for you, right there.”
He places his hand on my thigh, stopping me. “No, don’t.” he says softly, giving me a half smile. “Not tonight.”
“How come?”
“I’d just…rather hang out with you tonight if that’s okay.”
“Yeah…it’s okay.”
Chapter 11
Grant
After visiting with Kayla, Mitchell and Daniel for a couple of hours, I head home and get a workout in, sweating like a dog, just like in my former military days, and then I get a shower, planning on doing a bit of housework and laundry to cap off my afternoon, before swinging by my parent’s place for dinner. And just as I slide my shirt over my head, I hear the doorbell ring downstairs. With my family, it could be anyone at any time of the day or night. The Lynches are like that; no phone call is necessary prior to a visit, and I’m fine with that. But it’s an unexpected visitor.
“Stacey…hey.” I say, stepping out of the way so that she can come inside. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.” My tone is conversational.
“I was just out with Marcus, seeing a movie, and I thought of you.” She explains.
“What movie did you see?”
She explains which one; it’s a military romance. I smile. “Was it as cheesy as it sounds?”
“Cheesier.” She says. “But it made me remember all those times that you went away and then came back, and how…romantic it was. That’s the part I loved the most about being with you.”
I place a hand on my chest. “Wow. I don’t even know what to say to that. It’s sweet.”
“Well, I figured that you’ve been nothing but sweet to me since I came back, and I’ve been kind of a train wreck. I think I owe you one.”
I wave as she takes her shoes off and we sit on the couch. “You don’t owe me anything. There’s a history there, Stacey.”
“Yeah, I know. But still.”
“God, what did you do…bribe Marcus to take you to see that movie?”
She names off the main actor. The guy who played the military guy. “He’s Marcus’s favorite. It was his idea to go see it. I was fine hanging around the house all day.”
“It’s good that you got out, anyway.”
She smiles. “Remember that first time that you came back?”
I smile. “The time when you practically straddled me at the airport gate? Yeah. Good times.”
“I thought your mother was going to die of embarrassment. I couldn’t help it.”
“She got over it. I’d been away for eight months, Stacey. We were so close when I left.”
She nods. “I wrote you almost every day then. I think I still have some of the letters that didn’t get sent because I thought they were so lame.”
I chuckle. “You should have sent them anyway. I enjoyed reading them. I got tired of shooting the shit with Tyler every night in the bunkers. It’s nice to have something to remind you of home when you’re a zillion miles away.”
“Yeah, and then after the second or third time that you came back, things dwindled a little bit, huh.”
I shrug. “It’s the way it was, Stacey. You made choices that I couldn’t control. I’m over it now.”
“I never did apologize for what I did, Grant. I’m so sorry for that.” She places her hand on mine. “This is part of the healing process. My therapist told me I need to…make amends for the wrongs that I did. And at least I can do this with you. The things I did to Mark I can’t take back nor can I apologize for.”
“Why not? He won’t even talk to you?”
She gives me a look and scoffs. “God, no. He hates me right now. He’s blocked my phone number on his phone.”
“Mature.”
“It was an ugly parting, Grant. There were a lot of things said that I wish I could take back. At the time, I hated him, too. I hate me, too. It’s a mess.”
I squeeze her hand. “I like this therapist. You seem to have opened up a lot since the last time I saw you.”
“I also met up with my old friend who hated Mark. Told her I’d left him. We’ve caught up and she’s great. It’s really helpful when I have a support system. That’s why I wanted to come over and see you. I need you to know that it makes a big difference. Even though it may not seem that way. I appreciate that you’re here for me.”
“Well, why wouldn’t I be. I mean, what happened between us is in the past. I live for today, Stacey.”
She ignores my statement. “It seems that a lot of people didn’t like Mark. And those people are coming out of the woodwork. It makes me feel a lot better about separating from him. Seems as though I had quite a toxic marriage.”
“I had a feeling. The guy’s an asshole if you want my opinion. I never liked him. Always thought he was an egomaniac.”
“Yet he was really insecure.”
“That’s usually the way it works. I’ve seen a lot of that type in the military. Fortunately, being in that environment tends to toughen even the whimpiest guy up.” I give her a tight smile. “Can I offer you anything?”
“No, I ate a huge drum of popcorn and an even larger soda while I was at the movie. I’m good now until next week.” She chuckles. “So, how are you parents doing? I never got to ask.”
“Oh, they’re great, actually.” I lean back on the couch and get comfortable. “Mallorie’s coming home for Christmas this year and Kayla and Daniel are having another baby.”
“Really? Oh, your folks must be so proud.”
“I guess so. I haven’t really seen much of them lately.”
“How come?”
“Kind of had a fight with Tyler and I’ve been avoiding my family since then. I’m hoping with Thanksgiving coming this weekend, that things will blow over.”
“God, Thanksgiving! With…everything that’s been going on, I forgot about that. Before we know it, Christmas will be here, too.”
“Yeah, that’ll be right around the corner.” I change the subject. “Hey, how’s that home-based business going? Did you get that started up yet?”
“Yes,” she smiles. “Actually, my friend Tina that I was telling you about?”
I lift a hand and speak deadpan. “The one who hates Mark.”
She chuckles but is still smiling. “Yeah, anyway, she does it, too, so it’s great!”
“Wow, I’m really happy for you. You seem to be so much better than the last time I saw you.”
“Things are finally starting to fall into place, Grant.” She looks at me and is almost beaming. “I’m so glad that we’re friends now. I wondered if that day would ever come.”
“The only thing that was ever standing in the way of us being friends was Mark, Stacey.”
“I know.” she nods. “But that’s not entirely true. I mean, your family hates me, Grant. That can’t be helped.”
“You let me deal with that. I’m not worried.”
“Okay.” She says and smiles. “I should go. I do have a little work to do tonight. I’m meeting with Tina in the morning to go over some stuff. I just wanted to see you. I feel bad for the way I left things the last time.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’m not made of paper, babe.” I say flippantly.
“No. No, you’re not.” She says, bending up to kiss my cheek. I kiss her back and hope to God that I can sneak one on her lips, but she turns her head and walks away. “Well, if I don’t see you before then, have a nice Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah, you too.” I say, trying like hell not to say something stupid and ruin what little progress we’ve made here.
As she walks out the door, I wipe the spot where she kissed me. And I can’t help but wonder if that’s all I’ll ever see out of her. There is a sinking feeling in my gut that betrays the hopeful feeling I had in my heart when I saw her smile just a few minutes ago.
And I shake it off by turning on the television.
***
Marcus
I hear Stacey come in the front door and I stick my head out. “Hey, where’d you fly off to? I didn’t even hear you leave.”
She takes her shoes off and walks into the kitchen, where I am. “I just went by Grant’s place.”
“Oh yeah. What for? Did that movie get to you?”
She shrugs, pulling a carrot stick from the pile that I’m peeling and chopping up. “Kind of.”
“Did you tell him yet?” I ask, taking a stick for myself and crunching it in my mouth.
Sighing, she takes a step back and grabs a glass from the cupboard overhead. “No, not yet.”
“Stacey, no offence, but this is going to blow up in your face. The man still has the hots for you.”
“I know he does. And I can’t stop it. But I’ve been giving him the signals that I’m not interested. He tried to kiss me twice now and I won’t let him.”
“You’re stringing him along like a dog, Stace. Unless you plan on hightailing it back to Canada, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Grant finds out and he’s going to come after you like a bat out of hell.”
“Not if he only finds out half the truth. The other half will bury me alive.”
“Have you told your shrink all this?” I ask, scoffing. “You appear to be trying to make amends with people that you’ve wronged, but in the meantime, you’re making it a hundred times worse. You should have just come clean with Grant at the start.”
“I couldn’t…face him. Especially with our history. I need him to trust me again first, and then come clean. He’ll never believe the truth unless he trusts me first, Marcus.”
“I don’t understand why you care so damn much. Once this is all out in the open, Grant isn’t going to touch you with a ten-foot pole.”
She gives me a look. “You don’t know that.”
“Keep dreaming, Stace.” I scoff. “The last thing I need is that huge, barbarian guy coming and knocking down my door.”
“He’s harmless, Marcus. Quit worrying.”
“Well, before the shit hits the fan, you better figure out what you’re doing. You can’t live here forever, you know. I mean, I love you and I’ll support you, but a man can only go so far.”
“I’m working on it, Marcus. Things are in the works.”
“What are you going to do about Mark?”
“There’s nothing to do about Mark. It is what it is. He’s out of the picture.”
“And you think he’s going to keep quiet? What about when he comes back to the states? Then what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know when that will be, and I’m not worrying about it.”
“Stacey, you should worry about it. Quit being a fool. The man is fucking hurting. You totally messed with his head. He’ll never recover from that.”
“Yeah, well, what about my head, huh?” I bark. “You know, now that it’s done with, I married him for mercy, you know? I felt sorry for him. What other woman would marry him like that?”
“Like what? Barren? He’s not the only guy on earth who can’t father children, Stacey.”
“I know. But it’s very rare, Marcus. It’s usually the woman who is the problem there.”
“Fine. Granted. But still. You married him. You didn’t even want kids, so the point was moot.”
“Well, he did. He had us on a waiting list for a goddamn adoption agency. But then he got so hung up with work and forgetting about me, what else was I supposed to do? Raise someone else’s brat kid myself?”
“It never got that far. Quit being a drama queen.” I whine.
“It could have. But I stopped that right quick.”
“Yeah, and did you bother telling him that?” I point out.
She smirks. “No. But that’s besides the point. We’re not together anymore, anyway. Nobody’s going to give him their kid now.”
I look at her with a sideways glance. “You know, Stacey, sometimes I wonder where you get this attitude from. It’s always all about you.”
“What are you talking about?” she raises her voice an octave, practically spitting the carrot out of her mouth. “I married Mark, knowing that we would never have a family, moved to goddamn Canada on a whim, and stayed there miserably, missing the last years of my parent’s life because of him. Hell, I sacrificed a lot for that man, Marcus. Make no doubt about it.”
I shake my head. “You just don’t get it, do you.”
“Get what, Marcus?”
“If you had been honest with Grant, with Mark, from the beginning…none of this would have happened. You’re a coward, Stacey. And you’d better grow a backbone real quick, because life’s a changing, and I’m not having you under my roof for much longer.”
“Are you kicking me out too?” she shouts.
“Soon.” I say honestly. “You’ve never had to learn responsibility your entire life, and now’s the time.”
“So now you think you’re my mom, do you?”
“No, but I think that you’ve been sheltered and given everything you wanted for long enough. It’s time you grew up and faced the music. This is where I draw the line.”
“Fine. I told you things are in the works. I’ll be out before you know it. Hell, Grant even offered for me to stay with him.”
“You will over my dead body.” I say with conviction. “You even allude to taking that offer and I’ll go spill the beans immediately. That’s…beyond selfish and horrible, Stacey.”
“Since when are you the morals police, huh?”
“Grant finds out that I know, Stacey, and he’s going to come down here personally and kick my ass.”
“Who’s the coward now, huh?”
I pause for effect. “I can’t even look at you. You’re disgusting.” I walk away.
“I know what I’m doing, Marcus.”
“Yeah, so much for your little depression act, Stacey. It didn’t work for that long. Good try, though.”
“Screw you.”
“Yeah.” I shake my head and walk up the stairs to get away from her.
***
Grant
That was the quickest Thanksgiving dinner I’ve ever had. Tyler tried to talk to me, but I just nodded when expected. Daniel and I spoke for a bit, but nothing about Stacey. Mom broke her baby toe the other day, kicking the side of the sofa, so it was mostly me and Daniel in the kitchen with dad, making dinner. We had a few laughs, but aside from me playing with the kids for a bit after dinner, I split and headed over to Frankie’s. I feel bad that it’s just her and her mom, and I haven’t seen Frankie all week.
“Hey, stranger.” Frankie says. “I didn’t expect to see you. Did you bring me anything?” she teases, making me turn around, so she can inspect me.
“No, I didn’t bring you anything.” I snuffle. “Where’s my Thanksgiving Day present, anyway?” I bark flippantly.
She lets me in as she pops something into her mouth. “In the fridge.”
“Beer?”
She nods. “What else? That and what’s left of mom’s homemade apple pie.”
“You mean you ate your mother’s cooking?” My eyes widen as I make fun of her.
She places her index finger in front of her lips, shushing me. “Quiet. You’ll get me in shit.” She whispers. “Do you want to meet her again?” But instead of waiting for my response, she opens her arms and gives me a hug. “Happy Thanksgiving.” And then a peck on the lips.
“Same to you.” I say, tasting something liquor-y on her. “Have you already been into the sauce?”
“I live with my mother. What do you think?”
“I’ll have what you’re having.” I say, pulling her close, sneaking another little kiss.
“Hey,” she says. “No groping. It’s Thanksgiving.” But as she’s protesting, she’s also giving me a little kiss back.
“Seriously. What is that?” I kiss her again.
“I don’t know. Some shit my mother made. You want some? It’ll flatten you.”
As I walk through the living room, I see Frankie’s mother, passed out on the couch. “Mom, Grant. Grant, mom.” Frankie says to her incoherent mom.
I laugh. “Nice to meet you…Missus…”
“Just call her Isabelle.” Frankie waves. “She hates to be reminded of the sperm donor and any affiliation she had with him.”
She has trouble saying ‘affiliation’ and I snort a laugh. “You’re tanked.”
“No shit.” She turns back to look at me.
I laugh again. I like this side of Frankie. Not that there is a side of her that I haven’t liked so far, but this side of her I really like. “You mean you got all sloshed and didn’t even bother to call me?” I act like I’m flabbergasted.
She shrugs. “I knew you were hanging with the homeys, homey. I’m not going to bug you. In fact, what are you even doing here?”
“Got sick of the family drama. Thought I’d come and hang with you.”
“Wanna tie one over with me? A sleepover?” she asks as though she’s telling me a secret.
“Do you have to ask your mom first?” I play.
“Do you have to ask yours?” she challenges me.
I shake my head and scoff. “No.”
Pulling a punch bowl out of the fridge, she sets it on the countertop. It’s pink. Like flamingo pink, and it smells hard enough yet sweet enough that I could get drunk just from the fumes. “What the fuck is in that?”
“I don’t know, but nothing says Thanksgiving lovin’ like mama’s turkey punch.” She answers, filling a cocktail glass up full.
“You ate a good meal, right?” she asks before handing me the glass.
“Oh yeah.”
“Good. Then you won’t puke.”
“Will you?” I ask, taking a sip. I wince as I swallow, but it actually tastes pretty good. Like a dessert wine only way harder.
