Flamingo Diner (15 page)

“So am I,” Nancy said. “I understand why she did what she did, even though I hate it. I’m working on forgiveness now, but I’m not there yet.”

“You will be,” Anne reassured her. “Who’s next?”

One of the men raised his hand, looking uncomfortable. “I suppose I will.” He glanced at Rosa with dark, haunted eyes, then looked down at the floor. “I’m Larry. My wife died in an accident.” He sighed heavily. “Only the police don’t really believe it was an accident. The official version is that she deliberately drove into a canal. There were witnesses who saw it happen and the medical examiner concurs. He says she didn’t have a stroke or a heart attack or any other discernible medical emergency.”

His words hit Rosa with the force of a sledgehammer. It was all she could do not to gasp with recog
nition as he described the awful uncertainty over his wife’s death.

He hesitated, his expression shattered. “If what they say is true, it’s my fault. I’d told her that morning that I was leaving her for another woman.”

This time Rosa’s gasp of dismay escaped. She understood his guilt all too well, had been living with the torment of believing herself responsible for Don’s decision.

“Larry, it was not your fault,” Anne said firmly, turning to share the same sympathetic look with Rosa as if she’d read her mind.

Larry wasn’t readily convinced. “How can you say that?” he asked heatedly. “It was because of me, because I wanted out of our marriage.”

“But you’d been unhappy for a long time, hadn’t you? You’d even talked about divorce before, correct?” Anne persisted. “What had stopped you?”

“She’d always talked me into staying, into giving it one more try,” he said.

“How had she done that?” Anne prodded.

“By threatening suicide,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“In other words, she emotionally blackmailed you into staying,” Anne said, putting it in the harshest possible terms.

He nodded.

“But she’d never tried to kill herself, had she? And you’d encouraged her to get help, isn’t that right?”

“She was supposed to be seeing someone, a doctor. He’d given her antidepressants,” he said. “I honestly thought she was better, that she was well enough to take it.”

“Then you did everything you could,” Anne said.

He didn’t look the least bit relieved by her reassurances. “God knows, I tried,” he said. “Now, not only do I have to live with all this guilt, but also with the anger, because her dying cost me the relationship with the woman I’d been seeing. We broke up this week. I couldn’t seem to look at her without thinking about what had happened and finally she couldn’t take it anymore.”

“So your wife got what she wanted, didn’t she?” Anne asked.

Larry looked startled by the question. “How can you say that?”

“You’re no longer with the other woman.” When he started to speak, she held up her hand. “I don’t know if this woman is the right woman for you, but if she is, are you willing to sacrifice your future happiness because of something you couldn’t control? Or are you going to forgive yourself and move on? Maybe fight to get her back?”

He nodded slowly, but he still looked miserable. “I hear what you’re saying, but I’m just not there yet.”

“You will be,” Anne promised him. “It takes time. Who’s next?”

It was the pale, slight teenager who spoke, after giving Rosa a shy smile. “I’m Lauren. I’m going to be a senior in high school this fall, and I’m here because my boyfriend committed suicide just before Christmas last year.”

Once more Rosa wasn’t able to prevent a horrified gasp. “You poor child,” she murmured.

“Teen suicide is a growing problem,” Anne told her. “Think back to when you were that age. Every problem was magnified a thousand times. Everything seemed to be life-or-death important, whether you had
a date for the prom, whether you failed a test, whether you got into college. Teenagers don’t have the same perspective that we do. They don’t understand that problems are temporary, that things usually work out for the best.”

Lauren nodded, her expression serious. “That’s what happened to Christopher. His parents had scrimped and saved forever so he could go to an Ivy League college. All they ever talked about was college and how much better his life would be if he had such a good education. When midterm grades came out, he was failing chemistry. Everyone told him he could make it up and still get a B or at least a C in the class, but he panicked. His other grades started slipping, because he was struggling so hard to catch up in chemistry. He felt like this huge failure, and nothing I said could get through to him. He just kept saying how disappointed his parents would be.”

She regarded them with tears streaking down her cheeks. “The awful part is that I knew his dad kept a gun in the house and I knew Christopher was depressed and talking about finding a way out, but I didn’t realize he really meant it. I thought maybe he was going to drop out of school or something. Then one of his teachers called his folks to ask if they knew why he was suddenly having trouble in school. They confronted him and it was pretty awful. That night, he went into his room, called me, and then shot himself before I could call 911 to get help over there.”

“Oh, Lauren, what a terrible thing for you to go through,” Rosa said, her heart filled with sympathy for what this young girl was dealing with. If it was impossible for her to deal with Don’s decision to take his own life, how on earth could this young girl cope?

“I’m okay,” Lauren said staunchly. “It’s just that now I panic when anyone starts talking crazy. I’ve called 911 so often, they recognize my voice. And I’m terrified that one of these days, they’ll think I’m just scared for no reason and not respond, and it’ll be the one time something bad happens.”

Rosa knew that Matt would not permit the police to ignore a cry for help, even one from a teenager who tended to overreact. The girl had every reason to fear for her friends. She’d learned from bitter experience what the danger signs were and she’d never risk ignoring them again.

As the others told similar stories, many of them about anger over a loved one’s dying, even of natural causes. Rosa felt as if a terrible weight was lifting from her shoulders. She was not so different, after all. She was going through the same stages of denial and anger and grief as these people. They weren’t freaks. Nor had they deserved to lose their loved ones in such a tragic way.

And neither had she. She could almost accept that now.

She glanced up and saw Anne regarding her expectantly.

“Rosa, would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself?”

“I’m Rosa,” she began softly. Sylvia reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I think—no, I’m almost certain—my husband committed suicide two months ago. And…” She looked into all those sympathetic eyes and her voice faltered. “And I don’t know why.” She looked toward Larry. “In my husband’s case, the police do believe it was an accident. That’s the official report. It would be so easy
to accept that. For one thing there’s insurance money that we desperately need right now, but I can’t let that matter, not when I know in my heart it wasn’t an accident. There’s too much evidence to the contrary, and it’s breaking my heart that I ignored the signs and never saw this coming.”

“What really matters is that you lost the most important person in your life,” Anne said quietly. “You need to grieve for him. Have you done that?”

Rosa shook her head. “Not really. I’ve been too angry.”

“Been there,” several voices reassured her.

“It gets better,” Nancy said. “I promise you.”

The others nodded.

“I don’t think I would have made it without this group, though,” Larry said. “Keep coming, Rosa. I know it’s hard to expose your feelings in front of a bunch of people you’ve never met before, but it helps. And we’ve all been there.”

“Thank you,” she said, and meant it. She turned to Sylvia. “Thank you especially. I wouldn’t have come today if she hadn’t pushed me,” she told the others.

“I just did what any friend would do,” Sylvia said, looking embarrassed by the praise. “You’re going to be okay, Rosa. I honestly believe that now.”

Rosa nodded. “So do I.” She faced the group. “And I will be back next week,” she said with renewed determination. She was finally going to take the steps necessary to get her life back.

Cori looked as if she wanted to cry. Emma felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach the instant
she saw her. She reached out and gripped Matt’s hand.

“Jennifer’s not here, is she?” she asked Cori.

“I told her it was really important, but she said she had another commitment and that it was important, too.” Cori regarded them apologetically. “I honestly don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. She’s not herself. She hasn’t been for weeks and weeks now.”

“You said something like that at your house last night. What’s going on?” Emma asked her.

“I can’t explain it exactly. She’s been way stressed out, snapping at me in a way she never had before, refusing to take calls. Then she vanished without a word. I had no idea where she’d gone or when she’d be back till she finally called in the middle of last week. All I had was a note saying she’d be in touch and to put off all appointments until she told me to start scheduling them again.”

“When did she leave?” Matt asked.

“I guess the first time was a couple of months back, out of the blue. She didn’t have a vacation planned. She just left. I found a note on my desk saying there’d been some sort of emergency and that she’d be out of touch indefinitely. This from a woman who usually has a cell phone attached to one ear and one eye on the stock ticker from the second the stock exchange opens every day.” She looked at Matt. “You know how she is.”

Emma looked at Matt. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

He hesitated.

“Come on, Matt. Tell me.”

“I’m thinking that the timing is damned weird, that’s what I’m thinking.”

Emma’s breath caught. “You think her leaving is tied to my father’s death, don’t you?”

He met her gaze. “Don’t you?”

“That’s a huge leap,” she said, not wanting to believe that there was any significance to the timing.

Cori stared at Matt. “You can’t be serious. Jennifer and Emma’s dad? That’s absurd. Of all people, you should know that.”

Emma regarded Cori curiously. Why did she think Matt would have some special insight into Jennifer’s behavior? Was there something he hadn’t told her about his relationship with Jennifer? Were they something more than old classmates? She couldn’t read anything in his expression, but more than once now she’d picked up on hints that there was something he was hiding where Jennifer was concerned.

“Was Don ever here?” Matt asked, his face carefully averted from Emma.

“Well, sure, but…” Cori’s voice trailed off. She called up the date book on her computer and scanned back a few weeks. “Emma, look at this. Your dad died on the night of the seventeenth, right?”

Emma pushed aside her suspicions about Jennifer and Matt and concentrated on Jennifer’s schedule for the date her father had died. Emma’s father had been on her calendar for a four o’clock meeting. And two days later, two days after his death, Jennifer had canceled all of her appointments and left town. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the coincidences.

She tried to imagine her father involved with a woman half his age, but the image wouldn’t come. Besides, if this were about an affair, would Jennifer have had his name on her office calendar where Cori could readily find it? Wouldn’t she have been far
more discreet? And if Emma’s father had somehow lost his mind and gotten mixed up in an affair with the investment adviser, where did Matt fit into the equation? Were they rivals of some sort? Had Jennifer thrown Matt over for Emma’s father? Or could it have been the reverse? Could the woman have broken things off with Don in order to be with Matt? Was that what had driven her father over the edge? Was that why Matt was being so nice to her, because of his own guilty role in the breakup?

Obviously she was letting her imagination run wild. She could only worry about one part of that, Emma told herself. She had to concentrate on Jennifer’s relationship with her father. She had to find out whether it was professional or romantic.

Unfortunately, the only person who could answer those questions was Jennifer herself and she’d gone missing.

“Reschedule us to see her tomorrow,” she told Cori flatly.

“No,” Matt countered. “Don’t put it on the calendar. If she’s trying to avoid you, Emma, she’ll just take off again when she sees her date book. Cori, you call me when she comes in. I’ll get Emma and we’ll come over as soon as we hear from you.”

Cori nodded slowly. “There has to be some mistake, Emma. I can’t believe it’s anything like what you’re thinking.”

Emma attempted a reassuring smile. “I’m trying really, really hard not to think at all.”

O
utside Jennifer’s office building, Matt turned toward his car, but Emma caught his hand.

“Can we go for a walk?” she asked. “I need to clear my head.”

“Sure,” he said at once, worried about her pallor and the lost, desperate look in her eyes. “Anyplace in particular you want to go?”

“Around the lake,” she suggested.

Matt hesitated, wondering if she truly wanted to walk all the way around the lake to the spot where her father’s body had been discovered. As if she’d suddenly realized what she was suggesting, she lifted her gaze to capture his.

“Just halfway,” she said, indicating her awareness that reaching the north end would not improve her mood.

Matt nodded. “Sounds good to me,” he said, shortening his stride so that she could match it.

She didn’t say a word until they’d walked the two blocks to the lake and then started around the south end, where there were hot dog and ice cream vendors and rowboat rentals. Her eyes lit up when she spotted the boats.

Looking more lighthearted than she had in weeks,
she gestured toward the boats. “How about it? Are you game?”

“You and me out on the lake just before sunset?” he said. “What’s not to like?”

She grinned. “I’ll get the ice cream.”

Matt paid for the rental, then watched as Emma came back with two cones, trying desperately to keep up with the melting ice cream on both of them.

“Here,” she said, shoving one in his direction. “It’s getting all over me.”

He grinned. “I could help with the cleanup.”

She shot a scolding look in his direction. “I think I can manage. That’s what napkins are for.”

“My way’s more fun,” he teased, earning a blush.

“Are we going out on the lake or not?”

He gestured toward the boat. “After you.” He helped her step into the boat and get settled, then sat across from her.

“We’re not going anywhere,” she pointed out.

He held up his ice cream. “I only have one hand. Unless you intend to help with the rowing, we have to wait.”

“I can help,” she said, reaching for an oar. “Try to keep up, so we don’t go around in circles.”

Matt laughed. “As if I’ll be the problem,” he scoffed.

They set off across the lake, their strokes working nicely in tandem. He considered it a good sign.

Eventually Emma handed him her oar. “You take over,” she said, turning her face up to the warm, fading sun and closing her eyes.

Matt took the oar, but let the boat drift, unable to take his gaze off of her. She was without question the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, even more
so because she was so totally unaware of it. Though she was far too pale, the sun had managed to put a hint of pink into her cheeks and brought out the fiery highlights in her dark hair.

“Matt,” she murmured eventually.

“Hmm?”

“We’re not going anywhere.”

He’d had the same sense for weeks now, but that wasn’t what she was talking about. He decided to pretend it was. “Where do you see us going?” he asked quietly.

Her eyes snapped open. “Us?”

He grinned at her reaction. “You know, you and me.”

“Is there an us?”

“That’s what I’m asking you,” he said. “I’d like there to be. I’d like to have the right to pull you into my arms right now and kiss you till your head spins, to take you home with me and make love to you till dawn.”

Her eyes widened and the muscles in her throat worked. “You would?” she asked with a catch in her voice.

“That can’t be a huge surprise.”

“No,” she agreed. “It’s not a
huge
surprise. You saying it, though, is something of a shocker.”

“Years ago you intimidated the daylights out of me, or should I say your father did,” he said wryly. “Now that we’re all grown-up, I’ve decided it’s time to stop being the strong, silent type. Something tells me this could be my last chance. Once you go back to D.C., I might never get another one unless I come chasing after you.”

“I see.” She regarded him with a worried expression. “Matt, I don’t know what to say.”

“I guess that’s an answer in itself,” he said, fighting to hide his disappointment. He hadn’t really expected her to fall straight into his arms, but he’d hoped for more than speechlessness. He knew the feelings were there. He also knew she didn’t want to acknowledge them, that she did want to go back to Washington and that she most likely did not want him chasing after her.

She reached for his hand and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. Matt’s body responded as if her touch had been far more intimate.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand. My life is in such a state of turmoil right now, you know that,” she explained. “What if we make a mistake? We could lose something really precious, our friendship.”

“What if it’s not a mistake?” he asked reasonably. “Then we’d lose something even more amazing, because we never even tried.” He risked a look directly into her eyes. “Unless you’re just not interested in me that way.”

Her gaze held his and he knew at once that that was the last thing he needed to worry about. Desire smoldered in her eyes, right along with uncertainty. He could capitalize on the desire and in all likelihood there would be no regrets, but it was the uncertainty that stopped him.

“Sorry,” he told her sincerely. “My timing sucks.”

She smiled sadly. “On the one hand, your timing does suck,” she agreed. “On the other, it couldn’t be better. When we came out here, I felt completely lost
and alone.” Her eyes locked with his. “And now I don’t.”

“Then I’m glad I said something.”

“So am I.”

“The offer’s good anytime,” he told her. “I live to cheer you up.”

She laughed, just as he’d intended, and the tension lifted.

“Something tells me that sleeping with you would go a bit further than merely cheering me up,” she said.

“I certainly hope so.”

“Will you settle for dinner tonight?”

“Being with you is never settling,” he told her honestly. “And if you play your cards right, I’ll even help with the dishes.”

“Help?” she said. “Forget that. You’ll
do
the dishes.”

“Anything to keep that smile on your face.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “Then try stealing a kiss over dessert.”

“Now
that
would definitely be my pleasure.”

Rosa sat back and listened to Matt and Emma bickering as they prepared dinner, saw the color bloom in her daughter’s cheeks, and caught the way Matt managed to touch her every chance he got. So that’s the way it was, she thought, feeling a little wistful as she remembered when she and Don had been the same way.

“You know, you two would get a lot more work done, if you’d cooperate,” she advised them finally.

Two pairs of startled eyes turned to her, almost as if they’d forgotten she was in the room.

“We are cooperating,” Emma said.

“Oh, please,” Matt countered. “Telling me to do it your way or to get out of here is not cooperating.”

Rosa shook her head. “So do you actually expect dinner to be ready sometime tonight?”

“A half hour,” Emma predicted, just as Matt said, “Ten minutes.”

Rosa rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should take Andy and Jeff out for dinner. How’d you get Jeff over here, by the way?”

“Better not to ask any questions,” Emma advised.

“In other words, Matt pulled rank,” Rosa guessed. She looked him in the eye. “Thank you. Think you can talk him into sticking around?”

“I’ll work on it,” Matt promised.

“So, Mama, you seem to be in an especially good mood tonight,” Emma said, studying her curiously. “What happened today?”

A part of Rosa wanted to keep the whole survivor’s group thing to herself, but Emma deserved to know. “I went to one of those meetings at Saint Luke’s. Sylvia took me.”

Emma dropped her paring knife on the counter and came over to kneel in front of Rosa and take her hands. “That’s wonderful. It helped, didn’t it? I can see it on your face.”

“More than I’d ever thought it would,” Rosa agreed. “It’s not a miracle cure, but listening to the other people there made me realize that I’m really not alone.” Though she selfishly wanted this just for her own recovery, she couldn’t help wondering if Emma wouldn’t benefit from it, too. Last time she’d mentioned it, Emma hadn’t shown much enthusiasm, but
maybe she’d feel differently now that Rosa had broken the ice.

“Would you like to go with me next time?” she asked.

Emma hesitated, then glanced toward Matt, before finally shaking her head. “I’m doing okay right now. If that changes, I’ll consider it.”

“Just because you’re not letting your father’s death immobilize you the way I did doesn’t mean you’re okay,” Rosa told her. “I realize now that talking really can help.”

Emma nodded, and once more looked toward Matt in a way that spoke volumes. “I know,” she said. “Matt’s been a godsend in that regard. He listens to me. More than that, he’s helping me investigate why dad did what you and I both think he did. Taking action is going a long way toward helping me get all of this into perspective.”

Matt was helping her daughter in other ways, too, Rosa suspected. She couldn’t say that her daughter looked wildly happy and in love. How could she be this soon after her father’s death? But she was coping, and Rosa had a hunch that real happiness was lurking just around the corner for her, if she’d let it happen. And there were signs that she might. Emma hadn’t mentioned Washington or her life there in days now. Maybe she was reaching a point where she’d be ready to accept the possibility that her future was right here in Winter Cove.

Maybe a blessing would come from Don’s death, after all. Emma staying here and falling in love with a fine man like Matt would certainly be one.

“It’s been two weeks since I heard from you,” Kim told Emma accusingly when she caught up with
her by phone late that night. “I miss our Sunday morning get-togethers.”

“So do I,” Emma said.

“I wish I’d been able to be there for you, but getting away from work on short notice is impossible. Plus I have virtually no leave time left and my boss is a stickler for the rules.”

“I know that,” Emma told her. “Not that I don’t wish you’d been around, but I understand.”

“You doing okay?”

“I’m coping,” she said. “There’s so much I want to talk to you about, but it seems as if there’s never time to even pick up the phone. If I’m not at the diner, Matt and I are trying to make some headway in trying to figure out why my Dad died.”

“Matt, huh? You mention him a lot. Something tells me there’s a lot more going on there than an investigation.”

Emma hesitated, uncertain how to answer.

“My God, there is, isn’t there?” Kim said. “I was teasing, but I got it exactly right. You’ve got a thing going with the sexy police chief.”

“It’s not a thing,” Emma denied. “Not yet, anyway.”

“He wants it to be, or you do?”

“Both of us do, actually.”

“Oh, really? Then why hasn’t it happened?”

“I’m the holdout,” Emma admitted. “How can I start something with him when I might not be around long enough to finish it? Matt and I have been friends forever. If we do something crazy and it blows up, we could ruin that friendship.”

“In this case, I think friendship is highly overrated,
when you could be having hot, steamy sex. You do think it will be hot and steamy, don’t you?”

Emma had tried hard not to think about what she’d been avoiding. That was precisely the problem. She suspected that making love with Matt would be incredible. Each time he touched her, she felt things she hadn’t felt before, wicked, wonderful sensations. And then she immediately felt guilty, because feeling so alive seemed wrong under the current circumstances. But this was Kim, and she could tell her anything.

“Oh, yeah,” she admitted. “I imagine it would be incredible.”

“Then I really don’t see what’s stopping you,” Kim said. “It’s not as if you’re making a lifetime commitment to the man.”

Emma remained silent.

“Oh, sweetie, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid you’ll fall in love with him and wind up spending the rest of your life in Winter Cove.”

“Me being here is temporary,” Emma said flatly. “I’m coming back to Washington as soon as everything settles down.”

“And you can’t make yourself think of Matt as some sort of fling?”

“Having a fling with Matt would be wrong,” Emma told her. “He wants more.”

“Has he said that?”

She thought of the crush he’d been unsuccessfully hiding for years. “No, not in so many words, but—”

“But nothing. Go for it. He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle it, if things don’t work out.”

“And me? How am I supposed to handle it, if it turns out that the two of us are better than I ever dreamed of?”

“You’ll follow your heart,” Kim said confidently.

“Even if that means staying here?” Emma said, not happy with the obvious choice.

“Even then,” Kim said. “You’ll be so deliriously happy, you won’t even notice where you’re living.”

“Trust me, I’ll notice.”

“Only if he’s not doing something right,” Kim said. “And something tells me that’s not going to be a problem. Sweetie, people can fit into more than one place, but true love is not something to toss aside lightly.”

“Who said anything about true love?” Emma asked defensively.

“You didn’t have to say the words for me to hear it in your voice. This Matt is special.”

“Yeah, he is,” she said. “Okay, enough about me. What’s going on in your life? Anyone made it past the second date yet?”

Kim sighed heavily. “I haven’t even met someone worthy of a second date lately. I’m thinking of giving total celibacy a try.”

Emma started to laugh, but the laughter died when she realized that Kim was serious. “Why don’t you come down here for a few days, even if it can only be for a weekend? It sounds to me like you need a break someplace where there’s no pressure.”

“And I could get a firsthand look at Matt,” Kim said thoughtfully, her voice brightening. “I’ll do it. As soon as I’ve made the arrangements, I’ll be in touch, that is, if you’re really serious, Emma. You sure this isn’t a bad time for company?”