Always and Forever (13 page)

Brie shook her head. After a fight with Pat, her mind was always in a muddle. “She’s in some pain. Pissed about being laid up.”

“I would be,
too.”

“So I’m filling in. I’ll work on the house with you until she comes back or we’re finished.”

“I thought…”

She held up her hand. “All that was foolish. This is a job and I’ll do it as I see fit.”

His brows arched. “You’re the boss.”

She motioned to the house. “What were you planning to do today?”

“Go through the first bedroom. I told Annie I’d work with her on it because
there’s sure to be some heavy lifting and I can sort what I want at the same time.”

“Then you can help me.” And Pat be damned.

The bedroom upstairs was stuffy and hot, with sunlight falling across the wooden floor. But when they opened the windows, a cross breeze cooled them enough to work. “Let’s start in the closet,” she said. Usually, those were the worst.

Phillip pulled out boxes
and left a clutter of sports equipment and a tuba in there. The cartons were labeled “Little Phil.”

She burst out laughing. “Little Phil?”

“Yeah, I was the youngest of four boys.”

Pat was the oldest.

Setting the first box on the floor, he drew over a chair from a desk.

She knelt and opened the flaps. “Look. It’s pictures.”

Rolling his eyes, he said, “Shit. I was a scrawny
kid right from the start.”

His wide shoulders and fit body belied the statement. “What happened?”

“I grew up.”

The pictures were cute. There was one of him and his brothers where Phillip was scowling. “Why the long face?”

“Probably at that point, Jack was pinching my back. They were all bullies.”

“Oh.” She didn’t think any of the O’Neils ever had bullied each other. “I can
imagine it was hard to be the youngest.”

“Yeah, and more. My mother found out about them tormenting me and threatened them. That only made it worse.”

“Why?”

“They said I was a mama’s boy and picked on me more. In secret, though.” He stared down at the picture. “We’ll toss this.”

“Here’s one with you and her.” She ran her hand over the cold glass and gave it to Phillip. He swallowed
hard when he saw it, then set it aside to save.

Making casual comments, they sorted through all three boxes by eleven a.m.

“You didn’t keep much,” she commented at the small stash.

“I got enough. Besides, I have a photographic memory.” He checked his watch. “Let’s take a break. I’m sweltering.”

Brie felt a film of perspiration on her own skin. “Sure.”

He arched a brow. “You
still like those Philly cheesesteak sandwiches?”

“Um, yeah.”

“How about I go get us two? And some beer?”

“Why not?”

It wasn’t until she was alone in the house that she realized he remembered what she liked to eat. Their affair had been years ago. She had no idea what his food preferences were. That he knew hers was odd.

Depressed from his memories the night
before, Pat entered Patty-Cake Day Care with Isabella at about ten a.m. He caught sight of Jamie on the other side of the room. She wore cropped-off white jeans and a simple pink T-shirt. Her hair was pulled to one side and held by a pink scarf. When she noticed him, she waved. He crossed to her.

“Look who the cat dragged in.”

Holding two-year-old Isabella, he smiled at Jamie. The woman
seemed perpetually happy, and it was contagious. “Hi. I called earlier to see if you could take her today. Your boss said yes.”

Jamie extended her hands. “Come see me, Isabella.”

The baby went right to her. A happy child, she was used to scores of people wanting to hold her. She tugged on Jamie’s scarf, dislodging it. The young woman’s hair fell in waves over her shoulder and chest and
looked soft.

Isabella asked, “Benno?”

Jamie nodded to a corner. “Over there playing with the toy fire trucks.” Pat could hear him making siren sounds.

She set Isabella down. “Go play with Ben.”

“Hey, princess, gimme a kiss first.”

After his daughter planted a big sloppy one on his mouth, she tottered off to find her friend.

Turning back to him, Jamie asked, “How long will
she be here?”

“Until after lunch. I promised her swimming before her nap.” He was close enough to catch a whiff of Jamie’s lotion. It was very feminine. “I won’t see you tonight. I’m off for a whole, blessed day.”

“Hmm. Have fun. Swimming today will be great, it’s so hot. Even the air-conditioning isn’t enough.” She smiled, too. “I’ll miss you at work.”

Pat left the day care, feeling
strange. He didn’t have any women friends except his sisters-in-law, and he wasn’t used to making small talk. Shaking his head, he put on his dark glasses to ward off the sun bouncing on the pavement. It would be blistering by noon. Passing by the butcher shop, an antique place and a diner, he walked to the pub, where he'd left his car. His thoughts turned to Jamie having no friends to take her
to the hospital the night Ben was hurt. That was probably why she was so friendly. And, of course, he’d helped her out.

Then he let himself think about this newest problem with Brie. He wished he hadn’t replayed in his mind what had happened with Isabella’s conception because he wanted to forget it. Brie was right about one thing—he couldn’t keep dwelling on the past. Pulling the address of
Carson’s house out of his pocket, he decided to take her lunch as a peace offering.

Gale was in the pub kitchen when he entered through the back. The scent of Irish stew and baked bread filled the place. The guy looked good today. He’d gotten a haircut and wore some snazzy clothes under his apron. “Hey, Gale. How’s it goin’?”

“Really good.” He studied Pat. “Aren’t you off today?”

“Yeah, I came in to get some lunch for me and Brie.”

“We have some of the corned beef left over from yesterday. Want me to make sandwiches for you?”

“That’d be great. I’ll snag some beer.”

In the bar, Patrick said hello to Sweeney, took cans of beer out of the one of the fridges and went back to the kitchen.

Gale set a bag on the counter. “There you go. For you and that beautiful
wife of yours.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I meant no harm. But she’s one of the prettiest women I ever met. You’re a lucky man.”

Pat felt the stirrings of jealousy like he’d had when the guys teased him about Gale’s crush at the barbeque. Shit, Pat was a
mess
. Gale had simply complimented his wife. He left the pub, thinking about his jealousy and how it affected his life. And knew he had
to get over this stupid feeling of inadequacy. As he drove to Carson’s, he decided to call the counselor they’d been seeing together and ask for some sessions alone. Keeping the notion in mind, he arrived at the address Brie had left for him this morning. He’d been a jerk, leaving a terse note asking where she’d be, when he should have said he was sorry.

Her car was in the driveway of a small
house, in a little neighborhood. There was a big black Bronco parked next to the Volvo.

If you were just going with somebody else…

Huh, maybe she got another person to work with her. He climbed the steps and rang the doorbell. No answer. Odd. After a few more rings, he took the stairs down and heard laughter around the back of the house. Following the noise, he reached the yard…and stopped
short. There was his wife, having lunch with another man. Right now she lazed in the chair, sipping a beer.

The guy was no coworker. The way he looked at Brie told Pat this was Phillip Carson.

“Seriously, the takedown did
not
happen that way.” Brie sipped cold beer from a bottle and smiled over at Phillip. She’d forgotten how entertaining he could be. “Cats saving the
day?”

“I swear. There were about fifty in the house. They surrounded the guy when he broke in.”

Again, she giggled. Sitting under the shade of a nearby tree, Brie realized she was having fun.

“Ah, I missed that.”

Brie knew she shouldn’t, but she said, “We had some good times.”

He squeezed her hand across the table. “How’s your marriage really, Brie?”

Just then a shadow
fell over the table. “I’d like to hear the answer to that one myself.”

Oh my God! Brie looked up. “Patrick? What are you doing here?”

He held up a brown paper bag and also carried a six-pack of beer. “I brought you lunch. But I can see somebody beat me to the punch.”

Brie cringed at the bleak look in her husband’s eyes.

Phillip stood and held out his hand. They’d never met.

“Phillip Carson.”

Patrick didn’t shake. “I know who you are.” He stared at Brie, shook his head and walked away. In a minute, she heard the car start and tires screech on the pavement.

“I’m sorry, Brie. Your husband didn’t look too happy.”

Feeling defensive, and spied upon, damn it, she stood, but instead of being relaxed as she’d been earlier, now she was stiff all over. “Let’s go
inside and finish the inventory of the bedroom. You need to be here to go through her jewelry.”

He grasped her arm. “Wait, Brie. Listen, I’m sorry if I’ve caused trouble between you and Patrick again.”

“I won’t talk about him with you, Phillip.” Instead she walked through the back door.

Hours later, she calmed down, canceled her appointment at the Forbes Estate and headed home. She
guessed Patrick would have gone to the pub to work off some steam, and she was anxious to take a swim and cool her brain.

But his car was in the driveway. She entered the house through the garage, then the kitchen, which had a view of the pool through the windows. He was in the water.

And he wasn’t alone.

Because the day was sunny and Isabella was strapped into a baby
water seat, babbling, “Wa-wa. Wa-wa,” and splashing her hands, Pat banished his wife from his mind and tried to enjoy the weather and the swimming.

Jamie stood across from him in the pool, holding on to Ben, who was in their extra baby seat. “Ben loves this. I’ve only taken him to a city pool a few times, but it’s so crowded. Here, he’s getting acclimated quick.”

“Hey, Benno. You like
the water?”

Isabella splashed some more. “Ben-no.”

And both parents laughed.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Pat shaded his eyes and glanced over to the edge of the pool. His wife, hot, sweaty and, he’d bet, cranky, stared down at him.

“That we are.”

Isabella kicked her feet. “Mama, splash. Wa-wa…”

“I see, baby. Is it fun?”

“Fun.”

Brie nodded to Pat. “I didn’t
know we were having company.”

“Or what, you would have come home sooner?”

“No, I had a job to do.”

“I hope it’s okay.” Jamie was probably picking up on the vibes between him and Brie. “It was so hot, and I was finished at the day care just when Pat came to pick up Isabella. He invited us out here to swim.”

“Of course it’s okay.” She squatted, near where Ben was. “And who’s this
little guy?”

“My son Ben. Say hi, buddy.”

“Ben-no.

Both Pat and Jamie laughed. Of course, Brie didn’t get the joke.

“Why don’t you put on a suit and come in with us?” Pat suggested.

“No, thanks. I’m a bit worn out. A shower and rest sounds good.” She turned to the girl. “Jamie, nice to see you again. Come for a swim anytime.” She held out her hands. “Isabella, want to come
with Mama for your nap?”

A vehement shake of her head. “Wa-wa.”

Brie’s face turned sad. The expression usually cut Pat to the quick, but not today, not when he remembered her laughing with Carson over a beer and discussing their marriage.

He watched his wife walk away, a stiffness in her usual graceful gait, then blanked his mind of her. The four of them played in the water until midafternoon.

“I have to get going,” Jamie told him. “I’m working in a few hours.”

“Okay.” After lifting Isabella from the baby seat, he climbed out of the pool. Jamie did the same with Ben. “I’ll put her to bed. You remember where you got dressed?” There was a big bathroom off the patio.

“Uh-huh.”

Pat stopped at the nursery before he went to change into clothes. After he dried and diapered her,
Isabella practically dropped into the crib, stuck her fingers in her mouth and closed her eyes. Pat took a minute to let the depth of his love for his child fill him. He couldn’t do it. Brie was right. He needed to take joy in the good things in the present, but after seeing her all cozy with her former lover, he just couldn’t. And fuck the counseling, he thought as he stepped into his bedroom.

Brie wasn’t asleep. She sat on the bed in some one-piece terry thing, leafing through a magazine. Hair damp, face dewy, she’d obviously showered. But she was troubled. He could tell by her knit brow and how her teeth came out over her bottom lip. She looked up when he came in. “All done in the pool?”

“Yep. And the baby’s down.” He went to the closet and pulled out jeans and a T-shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I have to take Jamie home. She doesn’t have a car.”

“You’re driving back into the city
now
?”

“I am.” He gave her a stubborn look. “Why?”

“It’s your day off.”

“That’s okay. It’s something to do.”

Her face hardened. He hated that expression, always had. “Fine!”

The catch-all word that meant anything but fine. “Are you mad at me?”

“Are you
mad at me?”

“Nope.” He gave her his own glare. “You should get some sleep before the kids get home.” He added pointedly, “You look like shit.”

With that little bit of cruelty, Patrick left the bedroom.