Read A Gift of Time (The Nine Minutes Trilogy Book 3) Online
Authors: Beth Flynn
I wasn’t
going to tell Grizz about the other emotional blow Jason had suffered. One that
had come from Alec. It explained why Alec had gone back to being just a friend
after that walk on the docks so many weeks ago.
Jason had
been visiting Alec’s boys. They’d been playing in the back yard when he went
inside to use the bathroom. Apparently, Alec’s estranged wife, Paulina, had
stopped by, and Jason overhead a conversation he shouldn’t have. I’d noticed a
change in Jason’s personality after he came home from that visit, and it took
me days to get him to tell me what was wrong—he’d heard Alec and Paulina
talking about getting back together. And Paulina had specifically asked Alec to
ease off spending so much time with Jason and me.
I’d asked
Alec to meet me for a quick dinner one night, and he explained.
“I feel like
shit. I had no idea Jason heard us talking or I would’ve talked to you. I
probably should’ve talked to you anyway.” He swiped a hand through his hair. “I
feel like I need to do it for my boys, Ginny. She wants to try again. She said
the lesbian thing was a phase.”
I took a sip
of my drink and looked at him over the rim of my glass.
“Is
something like that a phase?” I wasn’t being sarcastic. I honestly didn’t know,
and apparently, neither did he.
“I don’t
know, but Paulina is different now. Sherry may have been good for her in some
ways. She’s more positive, energetic, less self-centered. She’s becoming the
mother the boys never had, and I can tell it’s not an act. She’s totally
immersing herself in them. She asked me if she can move back home.”
“Alec, I
know that I have no rights here. I’m happy for you if this is what you want.
But can I tell you as my friend to please be careful?”
I’d looked
at him warmly, and he reached for my hand across the table.
“I would’ve
liked more from you, Ginny. I can’t deny that, and I won’t try to. I think
after our lunch down at the docks and that little kiss, I let myself believe
there might’ve been a chance. But I didn’t see it in your eyes. I’m right,
aren’t I?”
I’d looked
away but didn’t pull my hand from his.
“You have
been such a good friend, Alec….”
“But?” A
small smile played at his lips.
I took a
breath. “I feel like we would be forcing it. Like, we need to be a couple
because you didn’t have a wife and because I lost my husband and because our
sons want to be brothers. And of course, I may not have wanted to let myself
think it, but there is an attraction. I don’t think I imagined that. But it’s
all too compact. Too neat. Almost too perfect. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.” He
nodded. “I see what you’re saying.”
I pulled my
hand back and fiddled with the napkin on my lap. I stared at the untouched
chicken Caesar salad on my plate, the inviting aroma not enough to make me want
to take a bite. My stomach was churning.
“Can I ask
you something and ask for your complete honesty?” he asked softly.
“Of course.”
“Does this
have anything to do with James?”
I blinked at
him, totally taken off guard.
Alec gave an
embarrassed smile. “Jason mentioned an old friend of Tommy’s had visited the
house. He said he only came by once, but Jason seemed a bit taken with him.”
I let out a
sigh of relief. I’d secretly wondered if Grizz had done something to make
himself known to Alec. He hadn’t.
“James told
Jason some stories about Tommy when he was younger,” I said. “Of course, Jason
would be fascinated by him. He wants me to invite him over so he can hear more.
I’m sure that’s what it is.”
“Do you want
to invite him over?” Alec asked.
I looked at
him then as my mind swirled with a myriad of possible answers. In the end, I
decided on the truth.
“I honestly
don’t know, Alec. I honestly don’t know.”
Now, sitting
in Grizz’s driveway, I looked over at him.
“Does Jason
know how to defend himself?” Grizz asked. “Did Tommy teach him how to fight?”
“Of course,
he taught him how to defend himself. But Jason wasn’t raised in the same
environment Tommy was.” I gripped the steering wheel hard. “Tommy didn’t have a
lot of reason to practice with him.”
“Can’t say I
blame him.”
I was
stunned by the admission and looked over at him. Without any prompting from me,
Grizz said, “I guess Tommy was afraid he’d be making the kid into me. Probably
scared to tap into that gene. Like I said, I can’t blame him. He was probably
worried the apple wouldn’t fall far from the tree. I mean, it skipped a
generation because Tommy didn’t inherit my mean streak, but he was probably
afraid my grandson might.”
My mouth
agape, I realized then that Grizz didn’t know. Grizz really did believe Tommy
was his son.
“We don’t
need to worry about Jason inheriting anything from you, Grizz,” I told him
quietly. I hadn’t intended sarcasm, and I was hoping it hadn’t come across that
way.
“Why’s that?”
He had already gotten out of my car and shut the door. He was now bent over and
leaning through the passenger window that I had rolled down.
“Because
Tommy was not your son.”
Before he
had a chance to reply, I quickly added, “I’m really sorry.” And I meant it. “I
don’t mean to toss this at you and then run off, but I need to get to the bus
stop. I don’t have time to go into it now.” I shifted into reverse. “I promise
to explain later.”
He nodded
and stepped back from the car, but not before I detected something in his eyes.
I was almost positive it was disappointment.
Grizz
2001,
Fort Lauderdale
Two days later
, Grizz was still reflecting on Ginny’s
revelation. He had truly believed he’d fathered Tommy. Was Ginny telling some
lie to hurt him, pay him back for all he’d done to her? Had Tommy convinced
Ginny of some wild untruth in a misguided effort to shield her—or keep
her by his side? Or was it the truth? God only knew.
He drove
home from work, letting the thoughts run over him. He was learning how to be a
patient man. He wanted to call her, ask for an explanation, but he knew he was
being tested. Either by Ginny or by some higher being whose existence may or
may not have been trying to seep into his conscience.
For months,
his routine had been the same. He went to work every day and ate dinner alone
in his house every night. He had no interest in television, so he either worked
out in his weight room or spent the evening reading one of the many books he’d
checked out from the local library.
He spent his
weekends riding. He’d finally given in to the call of his bike and paid a visit
to that warehouse and towed it back to South Florida. But, he never rode in
Fort Lauderdale, where he now temporarily lived. He always made the long drive
over Alligator Alley to the other side of the state. Even that was a risk, but
with the one-year anniversary of his execution a few months back, he felt he’d
passed a milestone. Earned it, somehow.
He rode just
to ride. To feel the wind in his hair. He was grateful Florida had passed the
no-helmet law. He’d never worn one and wouldn’t have wanted to risk getting
stopped. He purposely avoided biker bars and the shadier areas of Fort
Lauderdale. He always rode alone and avoided attention.
But not once
did he ride where he didn’t fantasize about having her on the back. Her arms
wrapped tightly around his waist, her breasts pressing against his back. The
anticipation building as he imagined making love to her when they got back
home.
He grinned
when he thought about the times they didn’t even make it back home. He
remembered how he’d reach behind him while they were riding and find the space
between her legs that made her squirm. How his fingers built up a burning, a
desire that caused her to insist he pull over at the most convenient and
out-of-the-way spot so he could make love to her.
Would he
ever know days like those again? Would he ever get another chance with her?
Now, as he
pulled on to his street, his heart began to thud. He could see her SUV parked
on the swale in front of his house. He’d been tired after spending all day in
the sun, but seeing her car gave him an instant onset of energy.
He opened
the garage door and drove in. He walked out to find her standing on the
sidewalk that led to his front door, hands on her hips and staring pointedly at
the motorcycle.
“You’re not
actually riding that around town, are you?”
“Why? You
wanna go for a spin?” He couldn’t help but smile.
“No, I don’t
want to go for a spin! Seems like the last place you should be is on top of a
motorcycle.”
“If you can
think of another place I should be on top of, I’m open for suggestions.”
Her face
started to turn red, and he could see he’d flustered her. He quickly changed
tactics; he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable to the point where she’d
never want to come back.
“It’s good
to see you, honey,” he said as gently as possible. “Can you come in?”
She let out
a breath. “Yeah, I’m not going to stay. I just wanted to give you an
explanation after what I told you the other day.”
This wasn’t
exactly true. She wanted to have a long talk with him, but wanted to see how
things progressed first.
“You
could’ve called me. Saved yourself the trouble of driving over,” he said
casually. He’d given her his cell phone number two days ago.
“I lost the
number.”
He chanced a
glance at her. She was standing only a few feet away, looking at the sidewalk
with her arms crossed and kicking the ground with her right foot.
He smiled as
he unlocked his front door, then stepped aside so she could walk in first. He
followed and shut the door behind them, locking it and trying to ignore the
instant erection after he caught a whiff of her. She still smelled the same.
He watched
her as she stood in the middle of his living room and slowly took in her
surroundings. The blinds were drawn, but natural light from the overhead
skylights filled the space, giving it a warm and inviting aura.
“It’s nice.”
Her tone was unreadable.
“It came
furnished. You want something to drink?”
“Do you have
anything diet?”
“Hell, no.
And why do you need to be drinking anything diet?”
She ignored
the question and tried not to stare at his butt as he walked past her and
headed for the open kitchen area. She didn’t know how it was possible, but he
actually looked like he was in better shape now than before he went to prison.
He was in his fifties now, and had been in prison for fifteen years. He wasn’t
supposed to look better. He was supposed to look old and beaten down. Darn him.
He handed
her a bottled water. Twisting off the cap of his own, he downed the entire
thing in one long swig, then watched as she took a delicate sip of hers and
screwed the cap back in place.
“You here to
tell me why you think Tommy isn’t my son?”
“I’m here to
tell you why I know he isn’t your son.”
“Can I have
ten minutes to shower?”
“Yeah,
sure.”
He showered
in record time and came out of the bathroom wearing only his jeans and still
towel-drying his hair. He thought he smelled food and noticed her on the other
side of the kitchen island with her back to him. She was standing at the stove.
“What smells
so good?” he asked.
Without
turning around, she said, “Figured you might not feel like cooking after
working all day. I dug through your fridge and pulled out what I could use.
Hope you don’t mind chicken stir-fry.”
The truth
was, she needed to keep her hands and mind busy. She’d allowed one quick
thought into her brain about Grizz being in that shower, naked. Yeah, she
wouldn’t go there.
“Don’t mind
at all,” he said truthfully. “You’ll stay and eat with me, won’t you?”
She turned
around to answer him and was instantly tongue-tied. Grizz stood before her
shirtless. Both hands casually gripped a white towel that was draped around his
neck. His long wet hair was tousled. She was staring at his chest when he
interrupted her thoughts.
“Will you?
Stay and eat with me?” he asked sincerely, a sweet and pleading look in his
eyes.
She wondered
about the last time he may have sat down to a home-cooked meal and had somebody
to share it with. She could, she realized. The kids had plans for this evening,
so she had time.
“Yes, I’ll
stay,” she answered a little breathlessly as he returned to the bedroom to
throw his towel in the hamper and put on a shirt.
As if
fifteen years hadn’t come between them, he sat silently and respectfully like
he used to do when she said her meal blessing. And then she wasted no time
telling him about Tommy’s revelations concerning his and Mimi’s DNA.
“After Tommy
told me he was your son, I convinced myself I saw a resemblance, but now that I
think about it, Tommy almost had your height, but not your width. His brown
eyes took on a hazel sheen in certain light, but I guess that was it. I didn’t
want to believe he was your son, but because he actually did believe it, I
guess I did, too.”
Grizz stared
at her, taking it all in. He nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“I know all
about his mother, Candy. I know what you told Tommy while you were in prison.
How that guy Red made you and Anthony stay with her.” Her voice held no
accusations.
She then
told him about Tommy’s visit to his paternal grandmother’s house.
“Red.” Grizz
tightened his jaw. “He really was a rotten piece of shit. Using me and Anthony
to keep Candy prisoner under the guise that ‘it was for her own good.’ She
must’ve been scared to death of him because she never once told me or Anthony
what Red was doing to her.”
They’d
finished their meal and were sitting at the table. Grizz took a sip of his
drink and set the glass back down.
“And you’re
sure Red was Tommy’s father?” he asked.
Without
answering him, she got up from the small kitchen table and walked to the living
room to retrieve her purse. He followed her as she sat on a chair that faced
the couch. Taking a seat on the sofa in front of her, he watched as she pulled
an envelope from her bag.
“This is
Red’s brother, David Enman.” She handed him a picture. “What do you think?”
“Son of a
bitch,” Grizz said under his breath. “Strange how Tommy doesn’t look like Red,
but like Red’s brother instead. You said David Enman was dead years before
Candy got pregnant, right?”
“Yes.” She
nodded. “And I’ve never understood something. Well, there’s a lot I haven’t
understood, but one thing after learning this is why you never really did
anything to confirm paternity. You assumed you were Tommy’s father based on the
same blood type and based on the mistaken notion that you and Anthony were the
only ones having sex with Candy during the time. Big assumption for someone
like you. Why?”
“It was a
different world. They didn’t do paternity tests. I saw a picture of him when he
was younger that I thought looked like me. We both have a rare blood type. His
birthday lined up with when I’d been banging Candy. It was good enough back
then.” He didn’t meet her eyes.
“Not good
enough for someone like you though, Grizz,” she said softly. “I think you
wanted to believe it. You wanted him to be your son, didn’t you?”
He snorted.
“Why would I want something like that? Why would I want to bring a kid into
that lifestyle? Don’t be ridiculous, Kit.”
She cocked
her head. “Because, other than having Mavis look after me, maybe fathering a
child as bright as Tommy was the only good thing you’d ever done. The only
decent legacy you might’ve left in the world.”
He didn’t
answer her, and she used the opportunity to segue into the next conversation she
wanted to have with him. She didn’t know what he was expecting from her. She
didn’t even know what she was expecting from him. The one thing she did know
was that she wanted to hear some things from his own mouth. She wanted to hear
the truths behind his past. She wasn’t interested in his criminal involvement
and shady dealings with the people he’d blackmailed, the ones responsible for
his fake execution. She'd already asked him the one question that had aroused
her curiosity concerning how he'd pulled it off. She didn't need or want to
know more.
No, she
wanted the truth from Grizz about his personal past. She was testing him now.
And she didn’t know why, but she desperately wanted him to pass the test.
“So, how old
were you when you supposedly got Candy pregnant? She obviously believed you
were fourteen because I heard her say it to you that night at the motel.”
He looked
hard at her. She could see by the expression on his face that he was carefully
thinking. He was either calculating the math or trying to figure out whether he
could or should lie to her.
“You know
what, let’s not start there,” she said before he could answer. “Let’s start
with the basics. Your childhood. I don’t know why it’s important to me, but
bear with me here, Grizz. Let’s see if you can be honest with me. It’s no
longer necessary to hide things or protect me, right?”
“I don’t
like to talk about my childhood, Kit, so if you’re going there, forget it.”
She let the
second slip of her nickname pass, but she wouldn’t let the comment go.
“I know
about your childhood. I know about your sister. Tommy told me everything.”
He stared.
She couldn’t read his expression.
“But I don’t
know her name. Tell me her name, Grizz. Tell me your little sister’s name.”
“I don’t see
why it’s importa—”
“Tell me!”
she screamed.
She had
jumped up and now stood, looking down at him.
“Tell me one
thing. One truth from your past. Telling me her name isn’t putting anyone in
danger. She’s been gone for years. You have no excuses to keep anything from me
anymore.”
Her voice
echoed through the house. She watched him swallow. He was still sitting on the
sofa, but on the edge of it now. His face was even with her waist. Without
looking up, he whispered, “Ruth. Her name was Ruth Ann. I called her Ruthie.”
Ginny’s sigh
was easy to hear. She slowly closed the gap and he reached for her, pulling her
close and burying his face in her stomach. She let him hold her and found
herself running her hands through his still damp hair. He wasn’t crying, she
realized, but just holding her, taking in her warmth. Taking in her light.
“So, Mimi’s
middle name that you suggested. It was in memory of Ruthie.”
Gently, she
took his face in her hand and turned it up to look at her. His eyes were filled
with pain, but slowly changing into something else. Something heated.
“Yes, that’s
why I suggested it,” he murmured. “I’m glad you now know why.”
She
swallowed thickly. She needed to disengage. She saw the need in his eyes,
wondered if he saw the same need in hers. No. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Back to
business. She calmly removed herself from his embrace and sat back down in the
chair.
“What’s your
real name?” she asked next, crossing her legs.
“Awww,
honey, don’t go there. It’s not important.”
“It’s
important to me.”