Trust in Me (44 page)

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THE clock chimed three times in Annie’s living room. Joe thought about getting up to turn it off, but quiet wouldn’t make any difference. He was beyond sleep. Sprawled out on her comfortable nubby couch, the smell of clean sheets and freshly laundered pillowcases surrounding him, Joe felt anything but clean and fresh. The drama with Sam DeMartino had soiled
him
again.

And then, confessing to his mother—God, he was wiped out.

Throwing off the covers, he got up and headed for the kitchen. He’d make some hot chocolate, or even coffee now. Inside the big remodeled room—Annie had done a great job with the house—he fished out a pan, found milk in the fridge and poured it to heat on the gas stove. He knew microwaving was easier, but Annie had always made it this way, and he needed the comfort of ritual.

No one had spoken much on the drive to Rosa’s, where they’d easily convinced the kids that there was some kind of gas leak in the house and wouldn’t it be fun to sleep over with Faith and Matt. The four kids had been ecstatic to have overnight company on a school night, and no one seemed to be the wiser.

Joe knew that, eventually, a frank talk with the DeMartino children was in order, but not during a crisis like this.

When the milk bubbled and its sweet scent permeated the air, he poured it into real cocoa, added sugar and stiffed. Picking up the mug, he crossed to the window to gaze out over the yard. Suddenly he was assaulted by a memory.... Annie, fixing him hot chocolate, sexy and cute in a little lace nightgown, after they’d made sweet and tender love. Once again, he was blown away by what he’d had and lost. All that love and trust...

“Can’t sleep?”

He whirled around, sloshing the drink on his hand. He licked it off. She was standing in the doorway, dressed in a long plaid flannel robe. He wondered what she wore under it these days. He ducked his head. “Yeah, I can’t sleep. Did I wake you?”

“No, I can’t sleep either.” She eyed him. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Cold?”

She indicated what he wore—only low-slung blue sweatpants and a sheepish expression. “No, but I’ll put on a shirt if it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” She crossed to the stove. “Can I have some?”

“Uh-huh.” He watched her graceful movements. She was every inch the dancer even as she went about routine tasks. Had he ever appreciated how delicate she was, how fluid?

“What are you thinking about?” she asked as she turned around.

He lied. “That maybe I jumped the gun. Sam didn’t show here.”

Annie glanced at the clock. “The night isn’t over. But you’re probably right. Still, we don’t know if he went to their house.”

“I was going to call the police station when it got light.”

“Hmm.” She sank into a chair at the table. He hesitated then joined her.

How many times had he sat across from her like this, in the early hours of the morning when one of them couldn’t sleep? They’d trade jokes, tell stories about the kids and keep the loneliness at bay. Did she remember any of the good times?

“You okay?” she asked softly.

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Annie shook her head. “How did it go with your mother?”

“All right, I guess. I hope I did the right thing by forcing the issue.”

She smiled. “You’re a good counselor. Everybody says so. And I’ve seen you in action on the Council. I’m sure your instincts were right to set things straight with her.”

He stared at her bleakly.

“What?” she asked.

“Am I ever going to set things straight with you?”

“I believe you’ve changed, Joe. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“I wish.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wish it were that simple.”

She cocked her head. God, he couldn’t do this. He thought he could. Pete and Taylor both advised him to ask her. To face this last truth—to slay this last dragon. But he didn’t think he was capable of accepting the utter horror—and result—of his actions. Abandoning his cocoa, he stood and went back to the window.

“Joe, what is it?”

His hands clenched at his sides. “Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

He remained silent.

She came up behind him. He was surprised she got so close. “What is it?” she repeated.

Still, he couldn’t ask. Until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Some of the pain blunted, some of the guilt abated. And some of his hard-won courage surfaced. “There’s...there’s something...I need...to know. About Faith.”

“Faith?”

Oh, God. It would be easier to ask her with his back to her. But he was done hiding from self-truths. So he turned around. To face it, and her, head-on. “Annie, I know...I’ve never forgotten what I did that night.”

She stilled. He didn’t have to say which night.

Her eyes were wide and liquid. They sparkled like aged brandy in this light. “I remember, too.”

“Was it...was Faith...” He bit his lip, unsure if he could continue. “Was that the night we made Faith?”

“Oh, Joe.” Her face shone with something he couldn’t name. “Is that what you’ve been thinking since you came back and found out about her?”

He could only nod his head.

“No, no it wasn’t. I was pregnant that night. I already knew.” The stark words erased one guilt but unearthed another. “Oh, God, you were pregnant and I did that to you.“

She looked away. He swallowed hard. Relief overwhelmed him, but so did the shame at what he’d done to this woman. His knees weakened, and he grabbed onto the chair at his side.

“Joe, I...”

He lifted his fingers to her mouth. “Shh. Don’t say anything. I’m glad.” He searched her face. “Don’t try to comfort me. I wasn’t the one abused. I don’t deserve to feel better about it.”

She raised her hand to his wrist. He was shocked when she didn’t fling him off; instead she caressed it tenderly. “I think you do deserve to feel better. I think you’ve changed. It’s time to let go of all this, on both our parts.”

He could feel the tears prickle beneath his lids. He willed them back. He would not solicit sympathy. He would not put that burden on her like before, when he’d been the one in the wrong. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” She looked around. “We’re both different people now. Let’s put it all behind us.”

Struggling for control, he averted his gaze. He heard the clock strike again four times. The refrigerator turned on. A branch beat against the window outside. Finally he could meet her gaze. “All right. I want to do that. For all our sakes. Let me just say one more thing.”

She nodded.

He moved his hand to grasp hers—to link their fingers. “I’m sorry, Annie.” He brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed hers gently. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Chapter 26

FOR the very last time, Beth pulled into Doc’s driveway to drop Ronny off. It was the middle of May, and next week the car would go to the track garage where, under Doc’s supervision, the remainder of the work would be done. Ronny could get to the track by foot or bus, so she wouldn’t have contact with Tucker anymore. As had been the case most of the week before, she wouldn’t even have to see him. The notion weighed like a concrete block in her heart.

“Mom? I said goodbye.”

“Oh, I’m coming inside a minute. I want to talk to Doc.”

Ronny shrugged. He was preoccupied.

“Is anything wrong?” she asked, before he opened the door.

“No.”

“Is Mr. Johnson doing all right?”

“Yeah, Lily and I went to see him yesterday. Poor guy, though, he can hardly get around. And his wife’s got this new baby. I feel bad for him.”

“Maybe you could go help him on the days you don’t have community service.”

“I gotta work at the diner.”

“You can go to your teacher’s. I’ll figure something out.” She smiled. “It would be good for you and for Mr. Johnson.” She stared at the house. “Let’s go.”

Exiting the car, Ron headed down the sidewalk to the back of the cottage that faced the lake; Beth followed his long strides, thinking again of how grown-up he was. Her own steps were slow, and she told herself to buck up. Things in her life were fine. Linc was on the mend, though with this injury a grumpy side of him had surfaced that Beth had never seen before. She smiled, thinking of her sainted brother acting like a cranky baby. Jane Meachum had been around a lot to soothe him.

And Ron seemed good, though worried about Mr. Johnson a little. The rest of his life was going smoothly, though.

Margo and Annie were both unusually quiet these days, but they said nothing was wrong. Oh, hell, maybe it was just
her
depression over Tucker.

The day was warm, so the bay to the garage was open. Beth stopped when she saw the men inside. Tucker was bent over the engine, his long lean form clothed in denim shorts, Docksiders and a ragged gray T-shirt with an oil logo on it.

Doc was standing by Tucker, directing his actions like a crew chief over his pit. “Gall damn it, Tucker, you ain’t got it right yet.”

Tucker let go with a few colorful curses.

“Hi, Doc.” Ron smiled at the old man.

Tucker’s head came up fast. “Geez, I didn’t know you’d be comin’ in with the boy, Beth. Sorry.” There was a grease mark across his cheek, which was turning red. But his green eyes drank her in with pure male thirst.

“It’s okay.” Beth smiled. “I wanted to talk to Doc.”

All three men looked at her quizzically.

“In private?” Doc asked.

“No. Here’s good.” She smoothed down the hem of the light-blue blouse she wore over tan chinos. “Remember what you asked me a few weeks ago? About Ron?”

“Uh-huh.” Doc ran a hand over his gray brush cut. “I thought you decided no. I didn’t tell him ’bout it, Beth.”

“I realize that. He can go, Doc. If it’s not too late. I thought you’d like to be the one to tell him.”

Doc’s grin was megawatt, making Beth realize he’d probably been quite a lady killer in his youth. “You just made me ’bout the happiest man in the world, girl. Bless your heart.”

Beth shrugged. “There’s one condition.”

“‘What?”

“That Tucker goes, too. Not that I don’t trust you, Doc. But I worry about your health. I don’t want Ron alone with you if something happened. For both your sakes, there should be another adult along.”

Doc’s eyes twinkled. Not much got past him. “Uh, yeah, that’d be real awful for the kid if we was alone and somethin’ happened.”

“Mom, what’re you talking about?” Ron’s mouth turned down in an impatient scowl.

Tucker eyed her, then Doc. “What you cookin’ up, old man?”

Ambling over to the bench, Doc plopped down, stretched his legs out in front of him and linked his hands behind his neck. “I asked Beth here if Ronny could come to the Indy with us.”

Beth watched her son. His face blanked, then his eyes widened like they used to on Christmas morning. The vision of him in red footed pajamas in front of the tree was juxtaposed to his six feet of denim and jersey poised before the race car. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.” He faced her, his hopeful look piercing her mother’s heart. “Mom?”

“No, I’m not kidding. Doc asked a while ago. I needed to think about it.”

“You hate racing. Why would you let me go to the biggest race of the year?”

“I realized I can’t keep you away from the sport, Ronny. I’m hoping, though, that Doc can lure you into the technical end. He said there were some designers and mechanics going to the Indy that he wanted to introduce you to.”

Tucker tapped the wrench he held into his palm. He didn’t look angry. Just suspicious. When all eyes focused on him, he said, “I’m not goin’ to the Indy, Beth.”

“Oh, well then, I guess the deal’s off.”

Ron whirled around to Tucker. “Man, Tucker. I gotta go. I wanted to do this all my life. Please.”

Grass-green eyes narrowed on her over the boy’s shoulder, then landed on Doc; Tucker said, “This isn’t exactly fair, you guys.”

“Life ain’t fair, boy. You know that better’n anybody.” Doc stood. “Come on, Ron. Let’s go into the house and let your mama talk to the boss man, here. I’ll boot up the Indy site and show you some of the designin’ gatherings we could go to.” He turned to Beth. “How many days can he be gone?”

“He’s got a four-day weekend. Maybe he could miss one day of school.”

Doc and Ron did high fives, and Doc clapped Ron on the back as they headed into the house. Beth heard them mumble something about chassis specialists and engineering wonders.

Hiding a smile, she faced Tucker. Still he didn’t look mad. “Hmm, I do believe Bonnie Parker’s plum full of surprises these days.”

“Is she?”

“Yep. I think I’ve just been flimflammed.” His face softened. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.”

He shot a guilty glance to the door, but said anyway, “I miss seein’ you.”

“I miss you, too.”

He angled his head to the house. “Why’d you do this, honey?”

Once again, her throat clogged at the endearment. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things since Linc got hurt. Life’s so short, Tucker. Some things can’t be changed, like you and me, but some can. Ronny should have this experience with Doc and you.”

“I can’t go, Beth.”

“Why?”

“I never go any more.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He shook his head.

“Listen, you and Ronny are starting to get closer. This would be good for both of you. Ronny might finally get over his resentment of you about his father’s death if you had some quality time together.” She smiled lovingly. “And maybe you’d lose the rest of that guilt you’re still carrying around.”

“You’ve already helped me get rid of most of it.”

“I’m glad. So Ronny can finish the job.” She looked at him beseechingly. “Go, Tucker, for both your sakes.”

Tucker couldn’t help it. He crossed to her and lifted his hand to cradle her cheek. His fingertips and palm were rough with calluses. “I reckon I can’t deny you anything, you know that.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” For a moment she leaned into his touch, then stepped back. “But it’s yours and Ron’s relationship that’s important here. Concentrate on that.” She turned. “Tell Ron I said goodbye.”

“Will you be pickin’ him up?”
Will I see you again?