The Broken Road (9 page)

“Drive safe,” I murmured against his lips.

“Of course. I’ll give you a call later,” he said softly. With a grin, he got into his Porsche and drove away.

I walked into the mudroom, locked the door behind me, and did the happy dance. Alex is a great guy. Not what I was expecting, but this was far better than I had dreamed.

Penny and I laid around the house for most of the day, cleaning and doing laundry, only venturing outside for a quick walk around the block. We ate Mom’s leftovers for dinner and, by the time I switched on a re-run of “Glee,” I still hadn’t heard from Alex. It’s not like I’m that clingy person that hovers over people. I am very much about space and personal freedom. But I am a worrier. It’s what I do, it’s in my genes. The temperatures had dropped and who knows where he went after he left here. For all I know, he could be dead in a ditch somewhere. To relieve my anxieties, I figured a quick text couldn’t hurt. I mean, he said that he’d call me later on tonight. So I’m just making the first move.

“Hope you got home safely.”

There. Short and simple. Can’t read anything into that right?
I’m such a dork.
I heard tires crunching on the packed snow. Out the window I saw a green SUV creep down the street and my nerves went on high alert. My stomach dropped. There was something strange about this SUV. Especially since it seemed to slow down even more once it got to my house. It was the same Expedition I saw three days ago. If it had been any other ordinary car, I would have attributed the slowness to the driver being careful on these icy roads and not think anything more about it, but not this one. I quickly locked both mudroom doors, set the motion detector and the alarm, and hustled Penny into my room. I can’t stand being this afraid, this paranoid. There is probably a very logical reason behind that Expedition. It’s probably someone new to the area or a visitor. Nothing to freak out about, right? A quick thought passed through about sending a text to Shane but I nixed that idea. He was up in Trenton, and it’s not like he can get here in the twenty minutes, like usual.
No, I can do this. I’m not some wimpy girl who is going to be scared of her freaking shadow.
I patted the mattress for Penny to join me. I waited for sleep to take hold and after looking out of the window at nothing for the umpteenth time, it finally did.

Chapter  8

I woke up to a text from Alex telling me that he had gotten home fine but his phone died. He also said that he had a great time and that we should do it again. I was relieved to hear from him as the endless possibilities of things we could do together ran through my mind. I pushed my dirty thoughts aside so I could focus on getting ready for work. I let Penny outside while the coffee brewed and pulled on my snow boots. The boots looked ridiculous with my brown suede skirt, but I didn't care. Heels and ice are never a good combination and I’m klutzy enough that I didn’t want another reason to fall.

The next few days went by in a blur and before I knew it, it was the Thursday. The federal case that Uncle Bob was reluctant to take on actually came to fruition. A major player in a drug cartel had been arrested and the Assistant U.S. Attorney requested my uncle’s firm for their help. This case became the firm's highest priority and most of the partners and paralegals were assigned to it. Everyone picked up the slack, including myself. It entailed late nights and working meals. Because of the late nights, I didn’t get to see Alex. We texted and emailed, but that was the extent of our communication. I was hoping I could see him at some point during the weekend. Friday is Valentine’s Day and I wondered if he was going to be my “valentine.” I could do without the lingerie, dying flowers, and boxed candy. However, being the sentimental romantic dingdong that I am, I can’t help getting wrapped up in the romance of the holiday.

I also couldn’t wait to hear Sarah squeal in my ear after Kyle’s proposal on Friday. I’m happy for the both of them, but can’t help but feel slightly jealous. Alex has potential, but there is that small pang of bitterness that always creeps up when I’m smacked with the realization that I’m the last in our group to have a relationship. It’s pathetic really.

Friday, and no word from Alex. I wasn’t surprised, just slightly disappointed. I kept telling myself that I was exhausted anyway and really should just go home and sleep. Most of the preliminary legwork on the case had been accomplished and Uncle Bob let everyone out at a normal hour. Of course, I believe that also had something to do with Aunt Karen coming into the office and giving Uncle Bob the look. The
“
We had plans, don't you DARE change them again, or you will not make it out of here alive”
look. I didn’t argue and high-tailed it out of the office. The week had been draining and it felt so good to leave work before eight o’clock. I headed to my mom’s house, looking forward to a home-cooked meal after a week of nothing but pizza, deli sandwiches, and Chinese food. I’d be happy if I never saw a cardboard container again. Mom didn't fail me and had meatloaf waiting.

Mom had been watching Penny for me and she greeted me at the door with a new woobie clenched in her jaw. “Hi Penny! Grandma is already spoiling you, huh?” I said to my wiggly fur-child.

“I'm not spoiling her. She didn't have any toys here. I couldn’t let her be bored could I?” Mom asked, as she kissed my cheek.

I headed into the small kitchen where Mom was making a pot of mashed potatoes “Apparently, your brother is up in Boston. Do you know anything about that?”

I gave Mom the wide-eyed innocent glance. “He told you that he was going up there. It’s Valentine’s weekend, after all.” I grabbed the plates from the cabinet and busied myself with setting the table.

“You forget Megan; I know you. I know when you’re hiding something,” she retorted, as she put the pot on the table. She hates being kept out of the loop and I hate keeping secrets from her, but I knew that Kyle wanted to the proposal to be a surprise. I struggled between good and evil for a quick second and was saved my phone ringing. I checked the caller ID and saw my long lost roommate’s number. I hadn’t seen him since the day after the burglary.

“What’s up Shane?” I answered. I brought over the corn and green beans from the counter while Mom filled the water glasses.

“Nothing much, I’m back in town and there's nothing in the fridge. What’s for dinner?” Shane replied. The assumption that I would feed him and make sure the fridge was fully stocked annoyed me. He’s a big boy; he can go grocery shopping. I rolled my eyes.

“I’m having dinner at Mom’s. I’ve been working late and haven’t had time to shop. There are some chicken nuggets in the freezer,” I offered, as I shooed away Mom’s gestures. I knew she was offering to have him over but, truth be told, I didn’t want him here. I didn't want to hear about his trip with Allison or think about what they did. I reminded myself I didn’t care, but, of course, a small piece of me did. Mom, on the other hand, did not like to hear about anyone being hungry. She grabbed the phone from my ear.

“Shane, its Mom. Come on over. We have plenty.” She ignored my looks of protest while she chatted with Shane. Shane and my mom always got along. They have a similar sarcastic sense of humor and he always sides with her during our many debates. I sat down at the table with a huff as Mom hung up the phone.

“Don’t act like that. He’s practically family,” she chided me. She placed another plate at the table, across from mine. She was right. I acted childish. But I had a long week at work and I’m cranky. I deserve some spoiling from own mother.

Ten minutes later, I heard the truck in the driveway. Shane let himself in and greeted my mom with a big hug. My heart skipped a beat as usual, but it wasn’t as difficult to have him around as I thought. It wasn’t easy just looking away either. The faded jeans hung on his hips and the green shirt played off the green in his eyes.
Shane looks gorgeous.
As usual, Mom fretted and fussed over him like he was her son or something. Whatever, I thought, as I gave him a small smile.
Where was my love and fuss? .

“Shane, you don’t look like you’re feeling well,” Mom said, putting down a soda in front of him.

Shane nodded. “It’s been a tough couple of weeks. I’m drained.” He took a small helping of meatloaf and started eating. She’s right; Shane looked like he was coming down with something but maybe he was just tired. I scooted my chair slightly; I don’t want his cooties. I have big plans this weekend. Okay, maybe not, but I could hope.

“How was Jersey?” I asked. I wasn’t curious. Much. I didn’t want to hear details of whatever they were doing. I was just trying to make conversation.

“Jersey was good. Busy.” Simple answers. Par for the course with Shane. He’s not one for details and obviously nothing exciting went on. I was grateful, until my mother started digging deeper.

“What did you go to Jersey for?”

“Oh. I had to work on Adrian’s brother’s bike. Then a couple other bikes came in, so I helped him with those.”

“That’s such a long drive for just you. Did Adrian go with you?” My mom, such an innocent. She knew damn well that he went with Allison.
What is she doing?
I shot her a look of annoyance.

“No, Allison went with me. We stopped by her folk’s place on the way home and had a visit with them. We had a good time. She ended up staying there this weekend. Her brother will drive her back Sunday,” Shane replied nonchalantly. He helped himself to more potatoes. I tried to ignore their conversation about Allison and her family. Not that I was jealous, mind you. Just that I was more concerned with my own life. I didn’t need to hear what I was missing or lacking.

Finally, the conversation and dinner came to an end. I declined dessert, not wanting to stay longer than necessary. I was exhausted and couldn’t wait to take Penny home, take a hot shower, and watch mind-numbing TV. I gathered up my coat and Penny’s overnight bag, and gave Mom a hug.

“Thanks for everything Mom,” I said, kissing her on the cheek.

“Anytime baby. Shane, wait a minute. You look really bad. Come here.” She went over to Shane and did the whole cheek-to-forehead routine. Shane is a good foot taller than she is, so she made him bend over. Shane did look bad. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glassy.

“Yep. You feel hot. Megs, go get the thermometer.” With an internal groan, I set my bags down. I know it was selfish, but I just wanted to go home. I grabbed the digital reader and brought it downstairs. I felt bad for him, he looked like garbage. I cheerfully told him so too. He just gave me the finger.

“Yep. One-oh-three. Megs, drive him home. He can’t drive like this. Do you have ibuprofen at home?” My mother had a well-stocked medicine cabinet and didn’t wait for my response. I remote-started my car and loaded Penny in the backseat while Mom packed a get well bag for Shane. In it – fresh carton of OJ, her homemade chicken soup from the freezer, and a bottle of Advil.

“If he doesn’t get better in a couple of days, make him go to the doctor,” she murmured, as Shane made his way to my car. Now I knew he’s feeling sick because I didn’t hear a peep out of him when he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll take care of your boy,” I teased her.

She laughed and kissed my cheek. “Be safe driving home. Love you.”

Shane reclined his seat and was asleep before I even made it out of the driveway. Twenty minutes later, I had to shake him to wake up.

“Shane, I’m not carrying your butt inside. You have to wake up,” I said gently. I had already opened the door and brought everything in. I opened his door and helped him out.

He groaned and swung his arm over my shoulders. “I feel like a Mack truck hit me,” he muttered, as we walked inside. He went upstairs without a word. I grabbed the Advil and orange juice and brought it up to him. When I got into his room, I felt a pang of pity for the poor guy. Shane had fallen face first half-way onto his bed. 

“Come on, you big baby. Get up and get in the shower. It’ll make you feel better,” I urged, pulling at his arm. He grudgingly got up and walked into the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went. I tried to ignore the taut, clearly defined muscles in his back and arms, but I couldn’t help but admire him. I turned on the water for him and had to avert my eyes as he got in. As he showered, I put a pair of sweats on the sink. My mother always said to sweat out a fever so I grabbed my heaviest quilt and put it on his bed. After about fifteen minutes in the shower, I knocked on the door. I didn’t want him to pass out and drown in the shower.

“Shane? Are you okay?” I asked, opening the door. He grunted out an okay and turned off the water. I quickly shut the door again, telling myself he needed his privacy. In reality, I was fending off the hot flashes. I pictured Alex’s arms and abs, but to be honest, the two didn’t compare. Alex has a nice body, don’t get me wrong. But Shane spent entire youth as a jock. He lifted weights every afternoon, played hockey, football, and lacrosse every year in high school and it’s obvious that he has kept up with the workouts. Ten minutes later, Shane slowly emerged from the bathroom in just the pants. Good gracious, that man is beautiful. I pulled back the covers on the bed and handed him the Advil and juice.

“Take this. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Thanks, Megs. I knew I loved you for a reason,” he mumbled, as he climbed into bed. Loved me? Right. As a sister. I ignored the wistful angst that suddenly surfaced as I pulled the blankets over him.

“Go to sleep. Feel better in the morning,” I muttered, as I turned out his lights. I grabbed my pajamas from the bedroom and took a long shower myself. Mentally and physically drained, I debated on having a glass of wine but decided to have tea instead. I took some vitamin C to help fight off whatever Shane brought home, and took my phone and tea upstairs. After some debate, I sent a quick message to Alex.

“Happy Valentine’s day.”
Maybe
that
will jog his memory.

I was engrossed in a repeat of
The Breakfast
Club when my phone startled me.
It’s eleven at night. Who in the hell is calling me at this hour?