Unbelievable (34 page)

“I thought you said you were through with her,” Booker demanded. Cole tugged me behind him. I let him. Steam practically spewed from Booker as he paced the living room.

“No. What I said was I was done talking about her
with you
. You’re unreasonable when it comes to Lilah.” Cole held me firmly in place.

“I’m unreasonable? I’m not the one letting my hormones talk for me.”

Cole stepped toward Booker. I grabbed his shirt and held him back. “You need to leave,” Cole said, harshly. I’d never heard him use that tone.

Booker’s footsteps grew faint as he walked away. “Remember what I said to you, Lilah. I meant every word of it.” The front door slammed shut. I stumbled backwards, dropping onto the battered futon. Cole pulled me into his lap.

“I should just leave town. I’m destroying everyone’s lives,” I said, biting the insides of my cheek to keep from crying.

“Lilah, Booker has a long, dark history with drug dealers. He’s being unreasonable,” he assured me. “Do I want to know what he said to you?”

I snuggled down onto his shoulder. “Just your typical threat
. Hurt the ones I love, you die
.” Cole jerked at my words. I lifted my head and said, “I’m exaggerating.”
Kind of.

“Let’s not focus on Booker. I showed you my house because I’d like you to make it a home. Decorate it for me. Make it a warm, inviting place.”

“Really?” I reexamined the living room as a million ideas raced through my head.

“Yes. It’s part of my plan to
get a life
, if you will. I’m not going to sleep at the hospital one more night. I want a warm inviting space to come home to each night, and I’d like you to design it.” He grinned at my exuberance. “And I’m giving you complete freedom, Lilah. However you want the space to be, that’s how it should be. This needs to be a space you’ll consider sharing with me.”

My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t sure if he just asked me to marry him or what, but not wanting to ruin the moment, I let it slide. “Are you sure? What about Booker? Or Seth? He’s not too fond of me either.”

“They’ll have to get over it, I guess,” he said simply. “Will you take the job?”

“Yes. I’d love to! I still want more input from you. You’re going to live in this space, so it has to be comfortable for you.”

“Do whatever. Paint everything purple, for all I care. My only request is a big bed. I’m tired of sleeping on silly, too-short mattresses,” he said, scowling. “I don’t want my feet to hang off the bed one more night. So think big.”

“What’s in the master bedroom now?” I pointed to the one room we hadn’t entered on the main floor. He nodded and followed me inside. The room was double in size from the first. It held a twin bed, a three foot high dresser, and a clock radio that sat on the floor next to the bed. That was it. The large room dwarfed the tiny bed. He opened a door and showed me a very large walk-in closet. Several sets of scrubs hung on a rack, along with what I assumed were his new clothes, judging by the tags still on them.

“You have to see this bathroom.” Cole opened a door opposite the closet. It too was large, with a two person shower and double bowl sinks. The stunning cabinets screamed of Booker’s handy work, but what caught my eye was the large sunken tub. I sighed out loud. Cole laughed.

“I have, like, a million ideas for this house. Didn’t I see stairs leading to a second story?” I marched out into the living room.

“Yes. It’s unfinished. You’ll be doing the living room, dining room and the main bedroom. Except not the office. I’ll do that room,” he explained. “I have big plans for in there.”

“A man cave?” I teased.

“Maybe. Which reminds me, I’ll set up a credit account at the local hardware store and at Burgerman’s Furniture. That way you won’t need to wait for me to get the supplies you need.”

“You’re not going to help pick out furniture?” I questioned.

“I’m not good at that kind of stuff. My idea of perfect would be a kidney shaped couch and a heart shaped bed. And by heart I don’t mean a valentine heart, I mean a valves and chambers type heart.” His eyes danced in amusement.

“I’ll guide you.” I assured him.

He took my hand and we walked to the door leading to the garage where he pointed out a security system.

“Booker installed one for you, too?” I wondered if Cole’s code were as crazy as Booker’s.

“I had a small TV at one time, but someone broke in and robbed me. Booker and
Seth installed the system after that, but I seldom remember to set the thing.” He started punching in the numbers and I turned my back. I didn’t want him to think I spied on him. He set the code and placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the motorcycle. “Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four,” Cole said, handing me the orange helmet.

The code. I sighed. “Booker’s not going to—” He stopped me with a kiss.

“I’ll repeat myself. He’ll have to get over it.” He said it as if it were a simple task. Simple all right—kind of like milking a shark.

“When do you want me to start on this?” I buckled the helmet and tucked my hair down the back of my shirt.

“Four years ago,” he chuckled. “As soon as possible, how’s that?”

“I think I’ll ask Maggie if she wants to help. We’ve talked a little about starting a design business together.” I glanced back at the Cape with a smile, my mind about to explode with ideas.

“Great. I can help around my schedule, too.” He secured his helmet.

A thought hit me. “Cole, have you considered a color scheme?”
And please don’t say beige
.

“I’m leaving that all up to you. I want this to be a place you’d want to live, Lilah, only I
really don’t want any of that modern stuff. Too cold and sterile.” He wrinkled his nose.

“So oranges and reds are okay then?” I teased.

“Yup. If that’s what you want.”

My eyes narrowed. “Who are you and what have you done with my Cole?”

“You sound like Maggie.” He shrugged, revving the bike a few times before I hopped on behind him. “It’s really me, and I’m getting a life.”

**

“This is a completely different space. It looks nothing like my old trailer
,” Maggie said, walking around the living room again, her features tight. Something was wrong. The furniture was in place and the trailer looked terrific, in a bland sort of way. Of course anything would look better than before the remodel. She ran her hands over the back of the beige recliner.

“I agree. It looks really good. The furniture’s perfect for the space. Not too big, not too—Mags, what’s wrong?” At my question, a single tear tumbled down her cheek.

“Sorry. I’m being silly.” She forced a laugh. “I’m going to double check the bedrooms. Booker wants to bring someone by to look at the place and I want it to . . . to . . .” and the flood gates opened. Tears rained down her face.

“Maggie, what is it?” I tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear and gave her a hug.

“I can’t sell this place, Lilah. This is all I have left of my mother.” She dried her face and slumped onto the brown microfiber couch. “This makes no sense,” she said. “You’d think I’d be happy to get rid of it. My memories here are nightmares, really. I’m still angry at my mother for pretty much everything.”

“Including dying?” I asked, sitting down next to her.

“Including dying,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I have so many emotions inside. Anger, disgust, resentment. Sorrow, so much sorrow. Sorrow over losing her. Sorrow for never developing a relationship with her.” Another tear fell down her cheek. “I haven’t been to the grave since the day we buried her. I didn’t even pick out the headstone. Seth did.”

I could see the guilt on her face; it was eating her alive. “And you feel guilty about that, I’m guessing.” I said.

“Yes. I feel terrible for being angry with her.” She dropped her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Growing up with her was a nightmare. I didn’t even realize it until Seth came into my life, and for the first time ever I felt what it was like to be loved.”

I couldn’t fathom such a thing. I’d always known my parents loved me. Even when my father was in my face about helping him, I knew he loved me in his own warped way. And Birdie. I never doubted her love either. “Your mother didn’t love you?” I asked gently.

“Deep inside, I think she did, at least I’m pretty sure. I told you about her drinking problem. It masked her emotions,” she said flatly.

“Do you have to sell the trailer? Maybe you could rent it out until you’re ready to part with it,” I offered.

She surveyed the room once again. “That’s a good idea. I hadn’t thought about renting it.” She stood and went into the bathroom to blow her nose. When she came out, she seemed more at peace.

“Thanks, Lilah. It’s like this huge burden’s been lifted off me. I thought selling it would give me closure, but it’s only made things worse. Renting the trailer out is the perfect answer.”

“What about the person Booker’s bringing over?” I asked as the front door opened.

“Booker isn’t bringing anyone by today. They had to reschedule,” Booker said, entering the trailer. A look of disgust briefly touched his face as his eyes landed on me.

“Perfect,” Maggie said, rubbing her hands together. “I’ve decided to rent it out. I’m not ready to sell it.”

“I’ll let my friend know. Everything okay, Magpie?” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. The stark contrast with the way he looked at Maggie and the gentleness with which he spoke to her contrasted starkly with the cold, hard looks and tones he used with me. Obviously, he loved her deeply.

“I’m fine. Lilah’s a good listener,” she grinned.

The tender look from Booker’s face vanished, filling with revulsion as he again glared in my direction. I bit my tongue to keep from sticking it out at him.

“I’m here, too, you know that. Anytime you need a
safe
, friendly ear, you just let me know.” He looked around the trailer, nodding his approval. “The place looks so different. You did a good job, Magpie.”

“And Lilah. Mostly Lilah, actually,” Maggie said.

“Hmm,” came Booker’s reply.

I took it as high praise. Then just because I’m a rash person who truly needs to think before she speaks, I said, “Maggie does have a gift for decorating. As a matter of fact, Cole’s asked me to decorate his house and Maggie’s agreed to help me.”

Maggie planted her forehead in her hand with a loud smack as Booker spun around so fast he had to take a step to keep from falling over.

“What?” he snapped.

“Book, don’t go having kittens on me. I like doing this and when Lilah asked me, I felt honored. I don’t have any classes until the end of September so this will be perfect,” Maggie said confidently.

“What does Seth think? Did he give his approval?” Booker demanded.

Judging by Maggie’s flaring nostrils, he’d asked the wrong thing. “His approval. Seriously? What, did I marry a caveman? I’m surprised I’m not pregnant yet.” She kicked off her flip-flops. “Certainly shoes are just a waste of my time. That’s how it’s supposed to be,” she made quote marks in the air, “‘barefoot and pregnant,’ right?”

“Magpie, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean Seth was your master or whatever you’re implying. I just meant that now you’re a team and you decide on things together.” He rested his hand
triumphantly on his gun holster, clearly proud of his
big save
. I stuck a finger in my mouth, pretending to gag myself behind his back. Maggie giggled. Booker shook his head but didn’t turn around.

“Thanks for stopping in, Book.” She turned him by his shoulders and guided him to the door.

“Wait, I want to discuss Cole’s place,” he protested.

“I’ll discuss it with Seth. Goodbye.” She opened the door, signally for him to leave.

“You’re going to work with her over my dead body,” he growled.

“I love you, Booker, and appreciate your concern, so please don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to stop this obsession.” She shut the door. He spit out a few cuss words loudly enough that we heard them through the closed door. Maggie cracked the door open and said, “That’s seventy-five cents for your curse jar.” She quickly shut it again. We collapsed onto the couch, both of us doubl
ing over in laughter.

“He hates me,” I said, rubbing the stitch in my side.

“Booker’s just concerned. He’s been through a lot and it’s jaded him. He can’t think rationally about this to save his life,” she explained.

He never would. Once an evil drug dealer’s daughter, always an evil drug dealer’s daughter in his mind, guilty or not. Time for a new subject. “Can you help me pick out some paint for Cole’s place tomorrow?”

“Yes. Thanks for asking me to help. I’m excited.” She grabbed her purse and keys. “Tell me about the new Cole,” she said as we walked outside.

**

“You’re awfully tense, Lilah. Why don’t you put down the sketch pad and stop for the evening?” I sat at the kitchen table while Cole stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders as I finished another drawing. He came for dinner, but my preoccupation with sketching Daddy put me behind and we’d ordered Chinese food instead. I felt badly. Cole ate mostly fast food and I wanted to give his poor digestive track a break with some home cooking.