Someone Like You (17 page)

Her expression was so earnest, so eager to please. Mac wanted to grab her and forcibly take her with him. Did she know what was going to happen when her neat-freak husband found out how messy a baby could be? Had she considered the hell she was getting into?

He studied her face, searching for clues. They were there—a tiny scar by her right temple, a barely noticeable drooping at the corner of her left eye. The cast, of course. He would bet there were others—that her body would be both a road map and a testament to her husband's temper.

On the way over, Mac had tried to think of the best way to talk to Kim. Now, in face of her youth, her pain and her pregnancy, he went for the truth.

“It's getting worse, isn't it?” he asked, careful to keep his voice low and as nonthreatening as he could make it. “At first he just slapped you around some. But now it's worse. Your eye, the scars on your legs, the bro ken arm.”

Her breath caught. “I—I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I know you love him,” he said as if she hadn't spoken. “Of course you do. He's your husband. And he's always sorry and you know in your heart that if you could just stop making mistakes, everything would be great between you. Because he used to be so sweet.
Right? Back when you first started going out, wasn't he the best?”

Her mouth curved up and she nodded. “He was wonderful.”

“But not anymore. And here's the thing, Kim. He's not going to be happy with the baby. Babies don't stay quiet. They don't keep to schedules and they don't clean up after themselves. Andy is going to be very, very angry. And when he puts you in the hospital, who is going to take care of your child?”

Her eyes widened. “He's not like that.”

“We both know he is. This situation is escalating. After he puts you in the hospital a few times, he's going to turn on your child. Then he'll be beating the two of you and eventually someone is going to wind up dead.”

He stared at her, willing her to believe him. “We can stop this right now. I can arrest him and hold him in jail long enough for you to get away. There are places you can go where he'll never find you. Never. Do you understand?”

A single tear leaked out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. “You have to go,” she said, not looking at him. “You have to go, because sometimes Andy comes home for lunch and if he found you here…”

There would be hell to pay, Mac thought. More than hell.

“Kim, please.”

She stood and walked to the door. “Just go.”

Mac did as she requested. Feeling useless and angry
and as if he'd only made things worse, he walked to his car and watched her carefully close the door.

 

J
ILL RETURNED
to her office and was surprised to find Tina working at her desk. She resisted the urge to snap and instead nodded as she stalked past.

“You have a one o'clock,” Tina called. “He should be here any second.”

Perfect, Jill thought, wondering how she was going to keep her temper in check. She still didn't understand what had happened with Mac. Okay, she could see how he might have misunderstood her conversation with Rudy, but why wouldn't he let her explain? And how dare he insult what she did for a living? That was hitting below the belt.

She still wanted to slap something. Or throw something. The fish offered a tempting target but, before she could figure out who would fly across the room best, she heard the front door open and a man speaking to Tina.

Later, she promised herself as she sat behind her desk and drew in several calming breaths. She had a second to glance down at the note by the appointment—“wants to sue neighbor for theft”—then Tina showed the man in.

He was tall, beefy, late forties, with the permanent tan of someone who makes his living outdoors.

“Mr. Wolcott,” she said. “This is Jill Strathern.”

Jill rose and held out her hand. “Mr. Wolcott. A plea sure.”

“Call me Bob,” he told her, and smiled. When he'd taken his seat, he glanced around. “Great office.”

“Um, do you fish?”

“Sure. Not like this though. What a beaut.”

He pointed to a particularly large, ugly fish of indeterminate origin. As Jill didn't want to hear about the wonders of catching so many prize specimens, she pulled out a pad of legal paper and picked up a pen.

“I understand you're having a problem with a neigh bor.”

“What? Oh, yeah. That bitch. She lives down the street from me and has always wanted my dog. You know,” he raised his voice to a falsetto. “If Bucky ever has puppies I really want one.” Mr. Wolcott grimaced. “The dog's name is Buck. Who the hell calls a dog Bucky?”

Jill told herself to remain calm. This wasn't as it seemed. Bob was having trouble coming to the point. There was no way he'd come to see her about his
dog.

“Your neighbor down the street?”

“Sissy Dawson. What the hell kind of name is Sissy? Probably why she can't keep my dog's name straight. She's a real bitch.”

“So you mentioned.”

He placed both of his massive hands on the desk. “She kidnapped Buck.”

Now they were getting somewhere…or not. “Your dog?”

“Hell, yes. Damn bitch held him for three days.
When he came home, he was real whipped if you get my drift.”

Jill did not. Was there a drift? Could she please be on it and out of this town?

“Bob, I'm not following you. Your concern is that your neighbor kidnapped your dog for three days, then returned him?”

“Right.”

“What exactly do you want to sue her for? Kidnapping?”

He brightened. “I hadn't thought of that. Sure. Kidnapping, but mostly theft.”

Jill had a bad feeling she didn't want to know, but she had to ask. “Theft of what?”

“Buck's sperm. She was always after me to have him mate with her damn dog and I refused. So when her dog went into heat, she kidnapped him and locked those two together for three damn days. She could have killed him.”

Twenty minutes later Jill showed Bob to the door after promising to research the problem. On her way back to her desk, she glanced up at the giant swordfish and wondered if there was any way to throw herself on the pointy part.

This couldn't be happening. Not any of it. Life hadn't gotten that unfair, had it? She had horrible law cases, was unable to help the one battered, pregnant person who really needed her, had a crummy ex-husband and furious ex-lover and assistant/secretary/receptionist who still hated her. If she didn't know she would regret it later, she would pick up the phone and call Rudy to
ask him to take care of the lying rat fink weasel dog that was Lyle.

Just then the phone rang. Tina, of course, had left for the day. Jill grabbed the call herself.

“Jill Strathern,” she said.

“Oh, hi, Jill. I'm Marsha Rawlings,” the woman said, then rattled off the name of her San Diego law firm. “Honestly, I can't believe your résumé. Please, please tell me you haven't already accepted another position.”

“I haven't.”

“Wonderful. We would love to talk to you as soon as possible. I see there's a private airfield just outside of Los Lobos. How about if we send the company plane to get you first thing in the morning? Would that work for you?”

Jill looked at the fish, the empty reception area and her notes on the dog-sperm theft case.

“It would work perfectly. What time?”

J
ILL LEFT HER OFFICE
a little after three. Tina had barely put in any time and Jill wasn't in the mood to deal with more clients. While she figured the odds of someone coming by with a case more amazing than dog-sperm theft were slim, she didn't want to tempt fate more than necessary.

As she rounded the corner to her street, she saw Mac's truck parked in front of his house. The sight of the familiar pickup made her uncomfortable. She still didn't know what had happened between them. He couldn't possibility believe that she'd told secrets to Rudy. Or that she would ever betray Mac.

But telling herself that his temper wasn't her problem didn't seem to be working. She wanted to talk to him and make things right, and even reminding herself she was excited about her interview in the morning didn't make her feel any better.

She walked up the front steps and entered her aunt's house.

“It's just me,” she called, knowing that if Mac were home then Emily would be with him.

“Jill? You're early,” Bev yelled from upstairs. “I was lying down. I'll be there in a second.”

“Okay.”

Jill kicked off her shoes and set down her purse. After wandering into the kitchen, she poked around a plate of cookies and picked up a frosted one. Clamping it between her teeth, she got a glass and poured milk, then sat at the kitchen table.

She hated feeling this out of sorts. Nothing was horribly wrong, but nothing was right, either.

“I blame my father,” she said.

“For what?” Bev asked as she bustled into the kitchen. “Oh, good. You found the cookies.”

Jill took another bite. “They're great.”

“Emily and I made them this morning. That girl is a whiz in the kitchen. I wonder if I should let Gracie know she's going to have some competition.”

Jill smiled. “Interesting thought.”

Bev smoothed the front of her sundress and patted her braided hair. Jill watched her bring the plate to the table, then pull out a chair.

“You look especially nice this afternoon.”

“Do I?” Bev looked away. “I didn't do anything special. I'm barely wearing any makeup.”

Maybe, Jill thought, studying her more closely, but there was a definite glow in her cheeks and a gleam in her eyes.

“What about your father?” Bev asked. “How is any thing his fault?”

“What? Oh, he's the one who convinced me to temporarily fill in at the law firm here. If I'd stayed in San Francisco…” What would she be doing, exactly? Fight
ing Lyle for the condo? Living in a hotel and licking her wounds? Plotting revenge?

“I was supposed to have a plan,” she said, then drank some milk. “I was supposed to be figuring out ways to make Lyle's life a living hell. What happened to that?”

“You got busy and found more important things to do with your time.”

“I guess. But what does it say about my marriage that a month or so after the fact, I barely think about the guy?” She held up her hand. “Don't feel you have to answer the question.” She reached for another cookie. “I shouldn't have married Lyle. I never loved him.”

“He was what you needed at the time.”

Jill wrinkled her nose. “Let's not think about what that says about me. Yuck. I have another interview tomorrow.”

Her aunt squeezed her arm. “I know that's what you want, even though the thought of you leaving makes me sad. I've liked having you around.”

Jill stood and bent over her aunt, then hugged her. “You've been wonderful. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking me this summer. I've had the best time.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

Jill sank back in her seat and sighed. “Nothing turns out like we thought, huh? Maybe I
should
let you read my cards and give me a hint or two about the future.”

Bev stood and crossed to the sink, where she began rinsing dishes. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea.
At least not today. I'm not feeling all that in tune with the cards.”

Before Jill could ask why, she heard footsteps upstairs.

“Is Emily here?” she asked. “I saw Mac's truck next door and thought he was with her.”

“He is. He came home a couple of hours ago.”

“Then who…” She pressed her lips together, suddenly not sure she wanted to hear an answer. After all, there weren't that many choices and she didn't like any of them.

Her string of not-so-great luck continued less than a minute later when Rudy came downstairs and walked into the kitchen. To Jill's amazement, he moved over to Bev, took her in his arms and kissed her.
Seriously
kissed her. Jill thought she might have seen a bit of tongue before she gathered herself together enough to look away.

Rudy? Here? Now? Upstairs?

“You're sleeping together?” she blurted before she could stop herself.

Rudy straightened and grinned. “You aunt is a very sensual woman.”

“Didn't want to know that,” Jill said as she put down the cookie and tried not to get anything close to a visual of what they'd been doing.

She risked a glance at Bev, who looked both flustered and pleased. “So what about staying pure for the gift?”

Bev sighed. “I never thought I'd say this, but my feel
ings for Rudy are more powerful than my need to stay pure for my calling.”

“You're kidding?”

Rudy winked. “Hey, I'm Italian. You know what that means.”

Actually, she didn't and was happy to keep it that way. “Tell me you at least waited until Mac took Emily home.”

“Of course.” Bev sounded shocked. “She's just a child.”

“Good. Wish we could all say the same about me.” She stood. “Look, I'll go and get out of your way.”

“No need,” Rudy said, slipping an arm around Bev's waist and pulling her close. “I'm taking her back to my place. We'll grab some dinner or something.”

It was the “something” that gave Jill the willies. “Okay, then. I guess I'll see you…tomorrow?”

Bev leaned against Rudy and sighed. “I'll be back in time to take care of Emily.”

“Great. You two have fun.”

Jill ducked out of the room and headed for the stairs. When she reached her room, she carefully closed the door, threw herself on the bed and covered her face with a pillow. Only then did she allow herself to scream.

Rudy and Bev having sex? Why oh why did she have to know that? It wasn't that she begrudged them any happiness. Bev had always chosen to be alone and that seemed to make her happy. If now she wanted to be with a man, Jill thought it was fabulous. She wasn't sure she would have chosen Rudy as the guy, but it also wasn't her decision.

No, her discomfort didn't come from their relationship—it was much more primal than that. Bev was the closest thing to a mother Jill had known since she was Emily's age, and thinking about the woman who'd raised her doing it with anyone was a serious violation of the ick factor.

She tossed the pillow away and sat up. “What if I'd come upstairs without calling out?” she asked herself. “I might have seen something.”

The thought made her shudder. She supposed children never really wanted to hear about their parents being sexual creatures. No doubt there was a biological reason for that and she should just let it go.

She could hear them moving around, probably packing for the big sleepover. Jill moved to her closet and quickly changed into shorts and a T-shirt. She pulled the pins from her hair and brushed it out, then slicked on sunscreen. A walk on the beach would help clear her head.

When she was ready, she plopped down on the bed to give Bev and Rudy plenty of time to make their escape. She touched the phone, wondering if she should check in with Gracie, then pulled her hand away. As much as she loved her friend, the person she most wanted to speak to was Mac, and he'd made it clear he had no interest in talking to her.

 

M
AC PUT DOWN
the latest issue of
Car and Driver
and watched as Emily turned the page in her book. She read silently, completely engrossed in the story. A couple of
strands of hair fell into her eyes and she brushed them away without looking up from her book.

She was so precious, he thought, his heart aching with love for her. Despite the problems he had with her, the past few weeks had been damned amazing.

He studied the shape of her cheek, her slender shoulders, then grimaced at the purple T-shirt she wore. Purple and blue days were always a bitch. Em might be eating regular food with everyone else, but she still insisted on matching colors with him. He supposed it was a form of punishment—one that he'd earned.

He leaned back on the sofa and rubbed the bridge of his nose. She was so young, he thought sadly. Too young to have experienced all she had. To think
he'd
been the one to hurt her.

He'd never wanted that to happen, mostly because he knew how horrible it was. He'd only been a few years older than Emily when his father had disappeared from his life. His mother had complained his father was a bastard and no one should be surprised that he'd finally run off. But Mac had been. Didn't every kid want his or her dad to be perfect?

He swore silently and looked at Em. Isn't that what she'd wanted for him? Damn it all to hell if he hadn't let her down. He'd made so many excuses for his own father, had waited and waited for him to come back. Had Emily done the same?

She put down her book. “What's wrong?” she asked. “You have a funny look on your face.”

“I'm okay. I'm just thinking about some things.”

“Like what?”

He crossed to her chair and crouched in front of her. Such small hands, he thought. She was so young and defenseless.

“I'm sorry, Em,” he said, and squeezed her fingers. “More sorry than I can tell you.”

She frowned. “'Bout what?”

“Before. When I went away.”

She closed her book. “You didn't go away. Mommy and me did.”

“Okay. You went away and I didn't come after you. I'm sorry about that. I should have. I love you so much. You're my best-ever girl and I didn't come find you.”

She shifted in her seat and drew her knees to her chest. “I know,” she said in a very small voice. “I wanted you to find me.”

“I got lost when I should have been looking for you and it took me a long time to find my way. And all that time you were waiting and wondering where I was. You probably wondered if I even loved you anymore.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn't speak.

“I do,” he said into the silence. “I love you, Emily. You're the best part of my life. I've loved you since be fore you were born and no matter what happens, I will always love you.”

Her blue eyes seemed to see down to his soul. Was she looking for proof? He wished he could offer some thing other than his word. Time, he told himself through the ache. Time would help her see he could be trusted.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. He brushed it away with his finger.

“If I could go back to those days, I swear I'd come look for you. You matter so much to me. I think you're special and wonderful and the most amazing daughter any dad could ever be blessed with. I'm so proud of you all the time.”

She made a noise in the back of her throat, then flung herself at him. He caught her against him and pulled her close. Thin arms wrapped around his throat, nearly strangling him, but he didn't mind. Em had been keeping her distance all summer. He planned to enjoy this hug for as long as it lasted.

“I love you so much,” he whispered into her ear. “Thank you for spending this time with me.”

“Oh, Daddy,” she said with a sniff.

His chest tightened.
Daddy.
How long had it been since he'd heard that?

He held her and rocked her. After a few minutes, he moved so he sat on the chair and she curled up on his lap. Still she clung to him. He stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. Finally she raised her tear-stained face and looked at him.

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered.

The last band around his chest eased and he drew in a deep breath.

“I love you, too, kiddo.”

She swallowed. “Are you going to get lost again?”

“No. I've found my way. When you go home to be with your mom, we're going to work out a schedule so you and I can see each other a lot. We'll talk on the phone and send cards and do e-mail. What do you think?”

“I'd like that a lot.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. He rocked her back and forth and thought about how empty the house would be when she was gone. She would leave a big hole in his heart.

“You must miss Mom a lot,” he said. “You haven't seen her in a long time.”

She straightened and looked at him. “I'm okay,” she told him.

Em had never been much of a liar and this wasn't any exception. He tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled.

“You know what? I think maybe it would be okay for you to see your mom for a weekend this summer. I know she'd like that a lot.”

“For real?” his daughter asked.

“Sure. As long as you promise to come back.”

She grinned. “Daddy, you're the one who got lost, not me. I can find my way back just fine.”

Words to live by, he thought.

“Then I'll trust you completely,” he said. “Are you getting hungry? Ready for dinner?”

“Uh-huh.” She slid off his knee and stood. “What are we having?”

“Funny you should ask. I have a couple of surprises for you.”

“We're having ice cream?”

He ruffled her hair. “Did I say they were good surprises?”

“Oh. So what's for dinner?”

“Meat loaf.” He took her hand and led her toward the kitchen.

“You didn't make that,” Emily said. “Bev and I made the meat loaf this morning.”