Tangled Up in You (12 page)

Read Tangled Up in You Online

Authors: Rachel Gibson

BOOK: Tangled Up in You
3.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He laughed, and his two dimples dented his cheeks. Thank you. When she didnt reciprocate, he lifted one brow up his forehead.

She smiled and unwrapped her legs from around his waist. Thank you.

He pulled out of her and moved off the bed. Youre welcome, he said over his shoulder as he walked into the bathroom.

Maddie rolled on her side and closed her eyes. She sighed and settled within a nice comfy bubble of afterglow. She didnt have a tense muscle in her body and couldnt recall ever being so relaxed. She heard the toilet flush, and she wrapped her arms around the pillow under her head. She should probably have sex more often, as a sort of stress reducer.

Whos Carlos?

Maddie opened her eyes and her afterglow bubble popped. What?

Mick sat on the bed and looked at her over his shoulder. You called me Carlos.

She didnt remember that. When?

When you were coming.

What did I say?

A little scowl turned down the corners of his mouth. Yes. Yes. Carlos.

Heat rose up her neck to her cheeks. I did?

Yeah. Ive never been called another mans name. He thought a moment, then added, I dont think I like it.

She sat up. Sorry.

Whos Carlos?

He obviously wasnt going to let it drop and she was forced to confess, Carlos isnt a man.

He blinked and stared at her for several moments. Carlos is a woman?

She laughed and pointed to the bedside dresser. Open that top drawer.

He leaned forward and pulled the drawer open. His brows lowered, then slowly rose up his forehead. Is that a?

Yes, thats Carlos.

He looked at her. You named it?

Maddie sat up. I thought since were intimately acquainted he should have a name.

Its purple.

And glows in the dark.

He chuckled and shut the drawer. Its big.

Not as big as you.

Yeah, but I cant He scratched his cheek. What does it do?

It can pulse, vibrate, throb, and get hot.

All that and glows in the dark too? He dropped his hand to the bed.

Youre better than Carlos. She moved to kneel behind him and slid her hands down his chest. Id much rather spend time with you.

He looked up into her face. I dont glow in the dark.

No, but your eyes get all sexy, and I love the way you kiss and touch my body. She pressed her breasts into his warm back. You make me vibrate and you make me hot.

He turned and pushed her down on the bed. You make me feel like the last time I was in this room. Like I cant get enough. Like Im fifteen and can go at it all night.

A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead and she reached up and smoothed it back. Is this room a lot different from the last time you were here withwhat was her name?

Brandy Green. He glanced about the bedroom. At the mahogany dressers and bedside ta bles and lamps. To tell you the truth, I dont remember what it looked like.

Too long ago?

He returned his gaze to her. Too busy to notice. Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes. Brandy was a senior and I was a sophomore and I was just trying to impress the hell out of her.

Did you?

Impress her? He thought a moment, then shook his head. I dont know.

Well, youve impressed me.

I know. He moved over the top of her onto his back, then pulled her across his chest.

How do you know?

Youre a moaner.

She pushed her hair over her shoulder. I am?

Yeah. I like it. He brushed his hand up and down her arm. It lets me know youre into what Im doing to you.

She shrugged. I like sex. Ive liked sex since my first time when I was a sophomore at UCLA and lost my virginity to my first boyfriend, Frankie Peterson.

His hand stilled. You waited until you were, whattwenty?

Well, I was Cincinnati Maddie, remember? But once I moved out of my aunts house and went away to college, I dropped sixty pounds by virtue of being so poor I didnt have money to spend on food. In those days, I used to work out a lot too. So much so that I burned myself out, and now I refuse to work up a sweat on anything that is painful and boring. She ran her fingers up the thin line of hair on his belly.

You dont need to work out. He slid his hand down her back to her behind. Youre perfect.

Im too soft.

Youre a woman. Youre supposed to be soft.

But Im

He rolled her onto her back and looked down at her. I look at you and there isnt anything I can tell myself that makes me not want to be with you. His gaze moved over her face. Ive tried to stay away. Tried to keep my hands off you. I cant. He looked into her eyes. Maybe after tonight I can.

Maddies breath got caught in her chest. She didnt want one night. She wanted several nights, but he was Mick Hennessy and she was Maddie Jones. She would have to tell him. Soon.

We better make it good, then. She slid her hand to the back of his head and ran her fingers through his short hair. And tomorrow you can go back to being mad at me, and Ill go back to be ing celibate. Everything will go back the way it was before tonight.

One corner of his mouth lifted. You think?

She nodded. Neither of us is looking for love, nor even a commitment beyond this room. We both want the same thing, Mick. She brought his mouth down to hers and whispered against his lips, No strings. Just a one-night stand. Since it was the last time she figured shed have sex before she jumped back on the wagon, she made sure it was memorable.

She left him long enough to turn on the jetted tub and pour mango-scented bubble bath into the water. Then she took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom. They played within the foamy bubbles, and when it was time, she rode him like a seahorse. This time when she hit her peak, she made sure she called out his name.

Once it was over and Mick flushed the last condom, she fell asleep with her back pressed against his chest and his hand on her breast. Hed been talking to her about something, and shed nestled her bottom against his groin and passed right out. Shed meant to put on a robe and walk him to the door, but it had been a long time since shed let herself feel safe and secure and protected. It was an illusion, of course. It had always been an illusion. No one except Maddie could keep her safe and secure and protected, but it had felt so good.

When she woke in the morning, she was alone. Just as she wanted. No strings. No commitment. No demands. He hadnt even said good-bye.

She rolled onto her side and looked at the morning shadows playing across her wall. She placed her hand in the indent on the pillow next to hers and curled her fingers into a fist. It was better this way.

Even if she never told him who she was, if she just left town and never set eyes on him again, hed find out eventually. Hed find out when the book hit the stores.

Yes, it was better that hed left without a good-bye. One night was bad enough; anything more would be impossible.

T he voice of Trina Olsen-Hays filled Maddies office as she scribbled notes on index cards in an attempt to try and make some sort of order out of the taped conversation. Once she finished transcribing the pertinent information, she would shuffle and mix them with other cards shed made in order to make a timeline she would then pin across her office wall. Shed learned after her first book that it was easier to move things around if they were written on cards as opposed to a straight line.

After an hour of writing notes, she turned off the tape and leaned back in her chair. She yawned and knitted her fingers together on the top of her head. It was Sunday and she figured the citizens of Truly were just getting out of church. Maddie hadnt been raised in any one religion. As with most everything else while she was growing up, when Maddie had attended church, it had been totally arbitrary and dependent on her aunts fickle whims or one of her programs. If Great-Aunt Martha saw a 60 Minutes episode about religion, it reminded her that she might be falling down on the job in the God department, and shed drop Maddie off at a random church and reassure herself on the way home that she was being a good guardian. After a few Sundays, Martha would forget about church and God and move on to something else.

If Maddie had to choose a religion, shed probably choose Catholicism. For no other reason than the stained glass, rosary beads and Vatican City. Maddie had visited Vatican City several years ago, and it was definitely awe-inspiring. Even to a heathen like herself. But if she was Catholic, shed have to go to church and confess the many sins shed committed upon the body of Mick Hennessy. If she understood confession, she should feel repentant, but she didnt. She might get away with lying to a priest, but God would not be fooled.

Maddie stood and moved into the living room. Shed had a great time with Mick last night. Theyd had sex. Good sex, and now it was over. She knew she should feel bad that she hadnt told him her mother was Alice Jones, but she didnt. Okay, maybe a little, but probably not as bad as she should feel. She might feel worse if she had any sort of relationship with Mick, but she didnt. Not even a friendship, and if she felt bad about anything it was that she and Mick could never be friends. She would have liked that. Not just for the sex, but because she liked him.

She moved to the French doors and looked out at the lake. She thought of Mick and his sister and his insistence that she not speak with Meg. Why? Meg was a grown woman. A single mother who supported herself and her son. What was Mick afraid would happen?

Meow.

Maddie looked down at her feet. On the other side of the glass door sat a small kitten. It was pure white and had one blue eye and one green. Its head looked almost too big for its body, like maybe it was inbred or something. Maddie pointed at it and said, Go home.

Meow.

I hate cats. Cats were nasty creatures. They shed all over your clothes, shredded the furniture with their claws, and slept all day.

Meow.

Forget it. She turned and walked through the house and into her bedroom. Her sheets, pillowcases, and duvet cover lay in a heap on the floor and she carried them to the laundry room off the kitchen. She needed to get all reminders of Mick out of her house. No indents in her pillows. No empty condom wrappers on the nightstand. Mick was like cheesecake, and she just couldnt have anything around to remind her how much she liked and missed cheesecake. Especially when it was so good shed just gorged herself into a coma the night before.

She stuffed her sheets and pillowcases into the washing machine, loaded it up with soap, and turned it on. As she shut the lid, the doorbell rang, and her stomach kind of got light and heavy at the same time. There had only ever been one person who rang her doorbell. She tried to ignore the feeling in her stomach and the sudden spike in her heartbeat as she moved toward the front of the house. She looked down at her green Nike T-shirt and black shorts. They were old and comfy and not the sort of clothes to inspire lust, but neither had the sweatshirt and pants shed had on last night, and Mick hadnt seemed to mind.

She looked through the peephole, but it wasnt Mick. Meg stood on her porch wearing dark sun glasses, and Maddie wondered how Meg knew where she lived. Maybe from Travis. She also wondered what Meg could possibly want on a Sunday afternoon. The obvious answer was she wanted to talk to Maddie about the book. But Meg looked so much like her mother that another answer came to mind; shed come over for some kind of confrontation. Maddie wondered if she should break out her Taser, but shed hate to shoot Meg with fifty thousand volts if shed just come over to talk about what had happened twenty-nine years ago. That wouldnt be very nice, and would be counterproductive, since she wanted to hear what Meg had to say. She opened the door.

Hi, Madeline. I hope Im not disturbing you, Meg began. I just dropped Pete off next door, and I was wondering if I could talk to you a moment or two.

The Allegrezzas are back so soon?

Yes. They came home this morning.

A slight breeze played with the ends of Megs dark hair, but she didnt appear agitated or crazy, and Maddie stepped back. Come in.

Thank you. Meg pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and stepped inside. She wore a khaki skirt and a black short-sleeved blouse. She looked so much like her mother it was spooky, but Maddie supposed it was no more fair to judge her by her mothers behavior than it was for people to judge Maddie by hers.

How can I help you? Maddie asked as the two moved into the living room.

Was my brother here last night?

Maddies footsteps faltered a fraction before she continued across the living room. While shed been wondering what brought Meg to her porch, it hadnt occurred to her that Meg was here to talk about last nights debauchery. Perhaps shed need the Taser after all. Yes.

Meg sighed. I told him not to come here. Im an adult and I can take care of myself. Hes worried that if I talk to you about Mom and Dad, Ill get upset.

Maddie smiled with relief. Please sit, she said and indicated the couch. Would you like something to drink? Im afraid I only have Diet Coke or water.

No, thank you. Meg sat and Maddie took the chair. Im sorry that Mick felt he needed to come to your house and order you not to talk with me.

Hed done more than that. Like you, Im an adult, and I dont take orders from your brother. Except for when theyd been in the spa tub, and hed looked at her through those gorgeous eyes of his and said, Come over here and sit on my lap.

Meg set her purse on the coffee table. Mick isnt a bad person. Hes just protective. Growing up, he had it rough and doesnt like talking about our parents. If youd met him under different circumstances, Im sure youd like him.

She liked him more than was wise under the current circumstances. She didnt even want to think about how much she might like sitting in his lap if he wasnt a Hennessy. Im sure thats true.

A frown wrinkled Megs brow. Theres a rumor going around town that a movie is going to be made out of your book.

Really?

Yeah. Carleen came into my work yesterday and told me that Angelina Jolie is going to play my mother, and Colin Farrell my dad.

Colin Farrell made a little sense because he was Irish. But Angelina Jolie? I havent been offered a movie deal. Hell, she hadnt even told her agent about the book. So you can tell everyone that there isnt going to be a film crew arriving anytime soon.

Thats a relief, Meg said, then turned her attention toward the French doors. Your cat wants in.

Its not mine. I think it might be a stray. Maddie shook her head and leaned back into her chair. Do you want a kitten?

No. Im not really a pet person. Ive promised my son a dog if he behaves for a month. She chuckled. I dont think Ill have to make good on that promise anytime soon.

When Meg laughed, she looked a bit like Mick. Im not really a pet person either, Maddie confessed and wondered if Meg had come over for a chat about pets or to talk about her parents. Theyre a lot of bother.

Oh, I wouldnt mind that. Im not a pet person because they die.

As far as Maddie was concerned, that was the only good thing about cats.

Growing up, we had a poodle named Princess. She was mostly Micks dog.

Mick had a poodle? Not only could she not see Mick owning a poodle, she couldnt imagine him naming it Princess. Did he name her?

Yes, and she died when he was about thirteen. The only time Ive seen Mick cry was when he had to bury that dog. Even at our parents funeral, he was a stoic little man. Meg shook her head. Ive had too many people die in my life. I dont want to get attached to a pet and have it die on me. Most people dont understand that, but its how I feel.

I understand. And she did. More than Meg would ever know. Or at least know for now.

Youre probably wondering why I stopped by instead of waiting for you to contact me.

I assume you are anxious to talk about your mother and father and what happened on that night in August.

Meg nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears. I dont know why you want to write about what happened, but you do. So I think you should hear it from my family, and Micks not going to talk to you. That leaves me.

Do you mind if I tape-record the conversation?

Meg took such a long time to answer, Maddie thought she might refuse. I guess that would be okay. As long as I get to stop if I feel uncomfortable.

Thats perfectly fine. Maddie rose from the chair and walked to her desk. She popped a new cassette into the tiny recorder, grabbed a folder and pen, then returned to the living room. You dont have to say anything you dont feel like saying, she said, although it was her job to get Meg to spill it all. Maddie held the recorder in front of her mouth, gave Megs name and the date, then set it on the edge of the coffee table.

Meg looked at the tape recorder and asked, Where do I begin?

If you feel comfortable, why dont you talk about what you recall of your parents? Maddie sat back in her chair and rested her hands lightly on her lap. Patient and nonthreatening. You know, the good times. And after Meg talked about those, they would get to the bad.

Im sure you heard that my parents fought.

Yes.

They didnt fight all the time, it was just that when they did She paused and looked down at her skirt. My grandmother used to say that they were passionate. That they fought and loved with more passion than other people.

Do you believe that?

A wrinkle furrowed her brow and she clasped her hands in her lap. I just know that my dad wasbigger than life. He was always happy. Always singing little songs. Everyone loved him because he just had a way about him. She looked up and her green eyes met Maddies. My mother stayed at home with Mick and me.

Was your mother happy?

Sheshe was sad sometimes, but that doesnt mean she was a bad mother, Meg said and proceeded to talk about wonderful picnics and birth day parties. Big family gatherings and Rose reading bedtime stories that made the family sound like one big Hallmark card of happiness.

Bullshit. After about thirty minutes of listening to Meg cherry-pick her stories, Maddie asked, What happened when your mother was sad?

Meg sat back and folded her arms across her chest. Well, its no secret that things got broken. Im sure Sheriff Potter told you about the time my mother set my fathers clothes on fire.

Actually, the sheriff hadnt mentioned it. Mmm.

She had the fire under control. There was no need for the neighbors to call the fire department.

Perhaps they were concerned because this area is a forest and it doesnt take much to start it on fire.

Meg shrugged. It was May. So it wasnt likely. The fire season isnt until later.

Which didnt mean the fire wouldnt have caused serious damage, but Maddie figured it was pointless and counterproductive to argue, and time to move things along. What do you recall of the night your parents died?

Meg looked across the room at the empty television screen. I remember that it had been hot that day and Mom took Mick and me to the public beach to swim. My dad usually went with us, but he didnt that day.

Do you know why?

No. I suspect he was with the waitress.

Maddie didnt bother reminding her that the waitress had a name. After you went to the public beach what happened?

We went home and had dinner. Dad wasnt home, but that wasnt unusual. Im sure he was at work. I remember we had whatever night, meaning we could have whatever we wanted for dinner. Mick had hot dogs and I had pizza. Later we ate ice cream and watched Donny & Marie . I remember what we watched because Mick was really mad that he had to watch Donny and Marie Osmond. But later he got to watch The Incredible Hulk , so he cheered up. My mom put us to bed, but sometime around midnight, I woke up because I heard her crying. I got out of bed and went into her room, and she was sitting on the side of her bed and she had all her clothes on.

Why was she crying? Maddie leaned forward.

Meg turned to Maddie and said, Because my father was having another affair.

Did she tell you that?

Of course not, but I was ten years old. I knew about the affairs. Megs gaze narrowed. Daddy wouldnt have left us for her. I know he wouldnt have really done that.

Other books

Day of Doom by David Baldacci
The Solitary Man by Stephen Leather
Mitchell's Presence by D. W. Marchwell
The Last and the First by Ivy Compton-Burnett
Village Secrets by Shaw, Rebecca
A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle
House of the Red Slayer by Paul Doherty
Echoes of Mercy: A Novel by Kim Vogel Sawyer