ALoveSoDeep (4 page)

“But we fell in love anyway,” Gabe says, meeting my eyes with a hopeful look. “Should be easy to fall in love again if we’re actually trying.”

As long as ghosts don’t get in our way
, I think. Aloud I say—

“You want to come to the wake with me? I would rather not let you out of my sight, if that’s okay with you.”

He nods. “That’s perfect. Should I go home and change?”

I shake my head. “Shorts and tee shirts are fine. The Cooneys don’t stand on ceremony. Besides, I think it’s better if we keep us a secret, at least until we figure out why your parents lied.”

“And your dad, too,” Gabe reminds me, eyes narrowing as he glances toward the house. “You don’t think they were in on it together, do you?”

I frown. “I don’t see how. I doubt Chuck ever met your parents. They didn’t exactly run in the same social circles.”

“No, they didn’t.” Gabe nods, but I can tell he isn’t ready to let this go. “Still, we shouldn’t rule it out. We should start a file and keep all the information we collect together. Sooner or later, we’ll figure out what happened, and who’s responsible.”

“And then what?” I ask, excitement making my belly flutter. He sounds like the old Gabe, when we were putting together a plan for a new job.

“Then we make it clear to my parents, and anyone else involved, that they aren’t allowed to interfere in our lives ever again,” he says, a dangerous note in his voice that makes my heart join in the fluttering.

Maybe the old Gabe and the new Gabe aren’t so different, after all.

CHAPTER FOUR
Gabe
“When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.”

-Shakespeare

The day passes with infinite slowness.

I call my mother and apologize for missing our lunch date. I tell her I’m too tired from my ride to get cleaned up, ignore her obvious irritation, and settle into my first Irish-Catholic wake.

It involves a lot more drinking than any funeral-type event I’ve been to before, but it’s not a bad scene. Aside from the body in the back room that Caitlin views for only a few moments before carefully keeping the rest of the kids away from their embalmed father, it’s a fairly festive event.

Chuck’s girlfriend is welcoming, and I’m happy to see the kids—especially Emmie, who gives me a hug as soon as she walks in the door, though I can’t believe she remembers me—but tipping my glass to a man who lied to keep me and Caitlin apart isn’t the way I want to spend my first day back with the woman I’ve been dreaming about every night for the past six months. I want to be alone with her. I want to kiss every inch of her body, and make her come calling my name. I want to hold her close afterward, and whisper whatever it takes to banish the doubt and fear in her eyes. I’m different than I was, and it’s obvious she sees that, but I know I can be the man she loved again.

Every doctor I’ve met with since the surgery has said the same thing—even if the memories are intact, it will take time for the brain to form new neural pathways to access old information—but right now I feel like I could slash my way through the overgrown jungle of my mind in a single night, if I could just get Caitlin alone…

But we are surrounded by Chuck’s girlfriend’s friends, a dozen of Chuck’s drinking buddies from the local dive, who have come for the free beer, and a shifting stream of people from the neighborhood, dropping by out of respect for the family. Caitlin is kept busy greeting visitors and helping Veronica hand out beer and snacks, but even in her few moments of downtime, there’s not much of a chance for us to talk. Caitlin holds my hand, or threads her arm through mine, but her attention has been captured by her sister, newly returned from God knows where.

Aoife holds court at the kitchen table, laughing with old friends excited to see her back in town, while she helps Emmie make rubber band friendship bracelets with a kit Caitlin brought to keep the kids entertained. The nearly four-year-old’s slender arm is already half covered with bracelets, but she can’t seem to get enough. She stays on Aoife’s lap for almost an hour, during which I’m pretty sure Caitlin is going to grind her teeth to nubs.

“Relax,” I whisper. “She’s a novelty. The thrill will wear off.”

“Aoife’s up to something,” Caitlin whispers back. “I don’t know what, but she wouldn’t come back just for Chuck’s funeral. She hated him.”

“So did you,” I remind her.

She sighs as she turns away from the cozy scene to stare out the curtains into the front yard, where the boys are playing horseshoes with a few of Chuck’s friends from the bar. “I just wish I knew why he lied.”

“I’d like to know that, too. I’ll search my mother’s and father’s home offices tonight. See if I can find a Chuck connection, or make sense of the ashes you found.”

“They were a prop,” Caitlin says bitterly. “Part of the lie.”

I make a considering sound. Caitlin’s mind is made up, but I don’t understand why my parents would go to such drastic lengths. It’s not as if they knew Caitlin was going to break into Darby Hill. Caitlin assured me no one but Ned Pitt knew about our illegal activities, and we made sure he didn’t have the chance to share the news with anyone.

I don’t know how to feel about the fact that Caitlin and I killed a man together. Or, more accurately, I don’t know how to feel about the fact that I’m glad the man is dead. Learning the truth put my mind at ease for the first time in weeks. I didn’t murder an innocent; I helped take out an abomination who would have been spending his life in jail if my father didn’t excel at defending criminals.

I’m supposed to go back to school in the fall to finish my pre-law degree, then head to law school, and eventually end up back in Giffney, where I’ll join the practice my father and grandfather built. It’s all planned out, my entire life stretching out before me like a freshly paved road. But now I’m starting to see the cracks in the shiny surface and the tempting places to turn off that would allow me to head in a completely different direction.

“Caitlin, can I put on my swimsuit?” comes a high, sweet voice from near the couch.

Caitlin and I turn from the window to find Emmie bouncing up and down on her bare feet, a giddy expression on her face. “Mama says she’ll put up the Slip 'N Slide in the back yard. Can I have my suit on now?”

I glance sideways, not surprised to see Caitlin’s face draining of color and her lips pressing into a thin, angry line. When Aoife rises from her chair at the dining table and crosses the room, I half expect Caitlin to lift her small fists and start swinging.

Instead, she smiles and lifts a brow. “Mama?”

“She was having a hard time saying my name,” Aoife explains, resting her hands on Emmie’s thin shoulders. “I thought ‘mama’ would be easier.”

“It’s Ee Fuh, Emmie,” Caitlin says, her gaze not leaving Aoife’s face. “Ee, like in street, and Fuh like Fuh-ged-about-it.” She does the last part in an accent that makes Emmie laugh.

“Fuh-ged-about-it,” Emmie repeats, giggling again. “Ee Fuh-ged-about-it.”

“Perfect!” Caitlin bends down, grinning as she tickles Emmie’s ribs.

Emmie laughs hard enough to send her shoulders sliding out from under her mother’s hands. The moment she’s free, Caitlin swoops Emmie into her arms and kisses her flushed cheek.

“And I have a better idea than the Slip 'N Slide.” Caitlin rests her forehead on Emmie’s. “How about we go check into our hotel and try out the pool? You and Sean can show Gabe what good swimmers you are now.”

Emmie’s eyes light up. “Pool! Yay, pool!”

“Get your sandals on, and go let the boys know,” Caitlin says, setting Emmie back on her feet. “Tell them we’re leaving in five minutes.”

Aoife looks less than pleased with the sudden departure, but she doesn’t say a word until Emmie is out of earshot, the front door slamming closed behind her.

“I’m her mother, Caitlin,” Aoife says. “There’s nothing wrong with her calling me mama if she wants to.”

“I’m not going to have this conversation right now,” Caitlin says in a voice like ice. “In fact, I’m
never
going to have this conversation. As soon as the funeral is over tomorrow, I want you gone.”

Aoife sighs, but the look in her eyes is anything but defeated. “I didn’t want to discuss this until after we finished everything for Dad, but…there’s another reason I’m here.”

“Of course there is.” Caitlin’s smile is viciously sweet. “I wouldn’t expect anything else, but I don’t know what you’re hoping to get. Chuck left Veronica this house, and he signed Aunt Sarah’s place over to me last summer. There may still be some of Aunt Sarah’s money left in his account, but you and Veronica will have to fight it out for that.”

“I didn’t come here for money,” Aoife snaps. “I came for my daughter. When I go back to Florida in a week, I want Emmie to come with me.”

Caitlin’s eyes widen slightly, but when she speaks she sounds amused. “Emmie is staying with me, and the boys—the people who love her, and have always been there for her. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting a stranger take her away.”

“I’m not a stranger, I’m her mother.” Aoife’s voice rises, attracting the attention of the older women drinking in the kitchen, who stop laughing and turn to peer into the living room. “And it’s not your decision to make. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but—”

“But nothing,” Caitlin says, still calm and collected. “You lost your chance to play the mother card when you left your daughter hungry and crying in her crib, and didn’t call, write, or send a dime for four years.”

“So you want money?” Aoife asks. “If that’s it, I’ve got it. I’m married now, and Mitch has a good job. We’ve got a house with a pool in a beautiful gated community. We can give Emmie everything, even a baby sister in four months.”

Aoife caresses her stomach with one hand, and I feel Caitlin stiffen beside me. “She’ll be happy with us,” Aoife continues with a dreamy smile, as if she’s already watching Emmie’s perfect new life play out behind her eyes. “Mitch understands that I was young and messed up when I left my daughter. But he’s forgiven me, and he wants me to bring Emmie home. He’s going to adopt her, and we’ll be a family.”

“Mitch sounds like a swell guy,” Caitlin says, sarcasm dripping from the words. “But the court awarded me full guardianship of Emmie last summer. I’m her legal caregiver. She’s flying back to Hawaii with me when I leave in ten days, and that’s the end of the discussion.”

Aoife’s nostrils flare, but when she speaks again
,
her voice is as cool as Caitlin’s. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I sure as hell do,” Caitlin says, her hands balling into fists at her sides, making me worry that the brawl I thought I saw coming a few minutes ago might be happening after all. “In every way that counts,
I’m
Emmie’s mother. You’re just an egg donor.”

The women eavesdropping across the room suck in a scandalized breath, and Aoife lifts her chin. “You can say whatever you want to hurt me, but I
am
Emmie’s mother, and I have rights. I was hoping we could keep things from getting nasty, but if you’re not willing to do what’s best for my daughter, we can take this to court.”

“You don’t give a shit about what’s best for Emmie. This is about you, the way everything always is.” Caitlin steps closer, before adding in a whisper, “But you will
never
take that little girl away from her family. Do you hear me? I will destroy you first.”

The words are so soft I know no one but Aoife and I heard them, but they still lift the hairs on the back of my neck. Caitlin isn’t making idle threats. When it comes to defending her family, she doesn’t fuck around.

The thought is followed by a flash of memory. I see Caitlin straddling a man—Pitt, on the night he chained Caitlin up in his attic. She’s half naked, with tears running down her face, but I can see the determination in the way her muscles strain and her hands lock around his neck. I watch the agony creasing her features become resolve and then a strangely peaceful expression that is chilling, even on a girl barely five feet tall. She steps over the threshold from prey to predator without a single look over her shoulder. I remember thinking at the time that she was like a dark angel, beautiful and deadly.

But what do I think now?

I don’t know, only that I doubt Aoife understands how dangerous it can be to get on Caitlin’s bad side.

I’m still half lost in the memory when Caitlin takes my hand and starts toward the door. I thread my fingers through hers and follow her out into the hot, humid day, but for the first time since I pulled her back into my arms, I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. Once upon a time, I was the kind of man who could not only handle Caitlin’s dark side, but match it, shadow for shadow. We were a perfect pair, but now…

I don’t know if I can be the person I was, and I’m not sure I want to be. The straight and narrow path my parents have laid out for me doesn’t feel right, but careening down a winding road at a hundred miles per hour, flattening anyone who gets in my way, doesn’t, either.

“Okay guys, load up,” Caitlin shouts to the kids before lifting her hand to Sherry. Her friend stands near the road next to two men smoking cigarettes. The guys look about our age—wearing the same faded jeans and tee shirts from high school, but with the start of the beer bellies that come to early twenty-somethings who drink a six pack every night—but I don’t remember meeting them before.