Black Ties and Lullabyes (23 page)

“You did the right thing. And then Bernie did the right thing by asking me to come.” He smiled. “Al ’s wel that ends wel .”

Eleanor nodded, her face looking strained and tired beneath the weak glow of the porch light. “Thank you for helping me, Jeremy.”

“No problem.”

Jeremy turned to leave, but she touched his arm.

“Before you go, may I talk to you for just a moment?”

“Yes?”

She took a deep, shaky breath. “By now it should be obvious to you why I had such trouble remembering tonight.”

“Yes,” he said gently. “Bernie told me.”

“Bernadette swears there’s nothing between you two. That there never wil be, which means that your interest in her situation may just begin and end with the babies. And that’s wonderful. The babies wil need a good father. But where Bernadette is concerned…”

“What?”

“She’s always been so independent. She’l tel you she doesn’t need help, and she usual y doesn’t, but caring for two babies is something even she’s going to find difficult. Taking care of me only adds to her burden, but she’l do it, because that’s the kind of daughter she is.” She pul ed another tissue from the pocket of her pants and twisted it between her fingers. “I was just hoping that maybe… while she’s taking care of me…”

“Yes?”

“You’l do what you can to take care of her.” Looking into Eleanor’s eyes, he could see how desperately she wanted to protect her child, even as the tables had turned and any power she had to do that was slowly slipping away from her.

“Of course,” Jeremy said.

“I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but she is the mother of your children, and—”

“Eleanor. Please believe me. You never have to worry about that.”

She nodded, dabbing the corners of her eyes with the tissue. “Are you a churchgoing man, Jeremy?”

“No, ma’am. I’m afraid not.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve known plenty of good men who’ve never set foot inside a church. And I can tel —

you’re a good man.”

For a moment, he found himself feeling sorry for her, because the truth was that he wasn’t a good man.

He was a wealthy man. A successful man. But good?

Not in the way she thought. If she knew the way he conducted his business sometimes, she’d be shocked. If she knew his history with women, she’d swear he was going to hel . If she knew the carnal thoughts he’d been having lately about her daughter, she’d probably slap him right across the face.

Good?

No. He was here now simply because it was the logical thing to do. Bernie needed to stay in bed, so he went. And there was nothing else to it.

“Eleanor?”

“Yes, Jeremy?”

“Is this house where Bernie was raised?” Eleanor smiled. “Yes. Her father and I bought it right before she was born.” She paused with a gentle sigh.

“He’s gone now. But I stil have such lovely memories.” For an awkward moment, Jeremy had to turn away.

He couldn’t look into her eyes and see the pain she must be feeling. It was one thing for her husband to be taken from her. But to know that the memories of him would eventual y disappear as wel ? How in the world did she stand it?

And how in the world was Bernie going to bear watching it happen?

Jeremy said good night, and Eleanor went inside.

He started to walk toward his car, only to stop and stand on the porch for a moment to watch what was going on around him. Two doors down, a couple of kids were chasing each other around the yard, a shaggy brown mutt nipping at their heels. Across the street, an old lady was watering her petunias. A young couple passed by pushing a strol er. Fireflies hovered lazily in the dusk, blinking on and off.

Al at once, Jeremy felt an unaccustomed tightness in his throat. Did Bernie have any idea how lucky she’d been?

As a child, al he’d known were nasty landlords, cracked concrete, and wal s ful of graffiti, along with the dismal hopelessness of old people and the angry defiance of young ones. Even now, even when he had everything in life he could ever have hoped for, he stil wondered sometimes if people could look into his eyes and see a shadow of what he used to be.

Just then he heard the sound of a car engine running rough, punctuated by an annoying clatter. He turned to see a tired old Chevy Malibu pul ing to the curb in front of Eleanor’s house. Its missing passenger window was covered with cardboard and duct tape, its muffler nearly dragging the ground. The man who got out was in his early thirties, scruffy, poorly dressed, and in dire need of a haircut. He zeroed in on Jeremy’s Mercedes in the driveway.

“Hey, man,” he said, as he walked across the lawn toward Jeremy. “Is that your car?”

Jeremy stepped off the porch, then stopped and held his ground. “Yes,” he said warily. “It’s mine.”

“Wow,” the man said with a grin. “Nice. Who are you?”

Jeremy didn’t like the looks of this guy. Why was he loitering around Eleanor’s house? “I’m Jeremy Bridges,” he said. “And you are…?”

Recognition lit the guy’s face. “Jeremy Bridges!

You’re Bernie’s baby daddy!”

“Uh… yeah.”

“I’m Bil y. Bernie’s cousin. So what are you doing at Aunt Eleanor’s house?”

Jeremy stil didn’t like this guy. Not one little bit.

“She had a little problem when she was out, so I gave her a ride home.”

“Oh,” Bil y said. “I’m staying with her for a little while.

Just while I’m between jobs. You know.” When Bil y didn’t bother asking what Eleanor’s problem was, Jeremy knew right away that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about her. And Jeremy sensed that his being “between jobs” was a fairly permanent state for him.

“You’re one of those computer inventor dudes, right?” Bil y said. “Like that Gates guy? No wonder you can afford a great car like that.” He shook his head with awe. “Man, oh,
man
, I bet you’ve been with some real y hot women. If I had a car like that, I’d be boinking hot babes every day of the week.” That statement told Jeremy that Bil y likely had an ongoing problem with women, and it had nothing to do with the car he drove.

“I read the blog at
Dallas After Dark
sometimes,” Bil y went on. “They talk about shit goin’ on around Dal as at al the hot clubs and stuff. I swear I saw a picture of you at one of those once with a supermodel.

Can’t remember her name. Something from one of those real y cold places where everything’s spel ed funny. Tal blond chick in a long black dress. Was that you?”

Jeremy had dated more than one Scandinavian supermodel, and he’d gone to clubs, but other than that, he didn’t have a clue what Bil y was talking about.

“Yeah,” he said. “That was me.”

“Whoa! I knew it!” He shook his head, a big grin on his face. “Man, you’re living the
life
.” What an idiot.

Now

Jeremy

remembered.

Hadn’t

Bernie

mentioned her cousin Bil y? Said she wouldn’t trust him to help with anything?

Smart woman.

“I’m going to be living the life myself one of these days,” Bil y said. “As soon as the right opportunity comes along. But you know, my problem right now is cash flow. Hard to get anything going with no walking-around money.” A calculating expression came over his face. “So you’ve got the big bucks, right?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose… you know. That you could you help me out a little?”

“Help you out?”

“A loan.”

“Nope.”

“Oh, come on, man! You got al kinds of money, and you’re practical y family. Surely you can loan me a few bucks just to tide me over.”

Jeremy was astonished. Did this guy have any shame at al ?

“I don’t lend money,” Jeremy said. “But I do give advice.”

“Yeah?”

“If you want money, earn it. Good night, Bil y.” With that, Jeremy turned and walked to his car, leaving Bil y standing in the driveway practical y snarling with frustration. Jeremy couldn’t imagine under what circumstances Eleanor would even think about putting a roof over that little deadbeat’s head, but he intended to find out.

Chapter 23

Fifteen minutes later, Jeremy came through his kitchen door and shut it behind him. Looking through the kitchen to the den beyond, he saw a light on.

Bernie was lying on the sofa. The TV was on but muted.

He hung his keys by the back door and went into the den. Bernie stirred a little, then opened her eyes, blinking against the light.

“I must have fal en asleep,” she said, sitting up.

“How is my mother?”

Jeremy sat down beside her on the sofa. “She’s fine.”

“She sounded so upset when she cal ed.”

“Don’t worry. She’s okay now.”

Bernie let out a breath of relief. “I hope you don’t mind that I stayed in the living room to wait for you.”

“Of course not. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just a little tired.”

Her eyes were heavy with sleep and worry. A strand of hair lay across her cheek, and he had to resist the urge to lean in and brush it away.

“About your mother,” he said. “How advanced is her disease?”

Bernie rubbed her eyes, then sighed. “Up to now, it’s just been smal things. But if more stuff happens like this tonight…”

“She shouldn’t be driving.”

“I know that now. But if she doesn’t drive, I’m going to have to help her even more than I do now.” She put her hand to her forehead. “What am I going to do if I’m stuck in bed for several more weeks?”

“That’s not a problem.”

“Of course it’s a problem. She can’t get groceries, go to church—”

“I’l put a car and driver at her disposal.” Bernie froze. “You can’t do that.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“Because it’s not your problem. It’s mine.”

“Starting tomorrow, if your mother wants to go somewhere, al she has to do is pick up a phone. I’l cal her and explain everything.”

“But—”

“It’s just temporary. Once you’re off bed rest, you can handle things again, right?”

“Of course.”

“Until then, she’l have a way to get around. Problem solved.”

Bernie looked at him a long time, blinking with disbelief. “You’d real y do that for me?” It made him uncomfortable for her to act as if he’d done something wonderful. When he could throw a minuscule portion of his massive fortune at a problem and it ceased to be a problem, he couldn’t exactly claim it was a gesture from the heart.

“If this happens again and you get out of bed to run al over town, it’s not good for the babies.” He picked up the remote, clicked the TV off, and changed the subject. “Tel me about Bil y.”

Bernie’s smile faded. “So you met him?”

“I did. He tried to borrow money from me.”

“Oh, God.” Bernie closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“He says he’s living with your mother because he’s a little down on his luck right now. Is that a normal state for him?”

“That’s a long, ugly story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Bernie sighed wearily, as if it wore her out just to think about it.

“Bil y’s mother died when he was only eight years old,” she began. “My mother has been making excuses for him ever since. She thinks if she can just lend him another hundred dol ars, or let him stay with her for a week, which always turns into a month, then he’l get back on his feet again. The truth is that he’s twenty-nine years old and he stil can’t hold a job. He borrows money from her and never pays it back, because my mother won’t tel him no, and I’m not there twenty-four hours a day to keep it from happening. I think the total now is $640.”

“Why haven’t you kicked his ass by now? You’re just the woman who can do it.”

“Oh, God, I wish I could. I’ve threatened him more times than you can imagine. But my mother always asks me to take it easy on him. He grew up without a mother, you see, so he just needs some understanding.”

“I grew up without a mother, too, so I don’t have a lot of sympathy for that. Kick his ass, Bernie. Things wil be better in the end.”

“Truthful y, it wouldn’t matter even if I did. In the end, Bil y knows I won’t kil him, and if murder is off the table, there’s only so much I can do. He pretty much gives me the middle finger and keeps on being a problem. Unfortunately, he has one thing in his favor that nobody can ever take away.”

“What’s that?”

Bernie shrugged helplessly. “He’s family. And in my mother’s eyes, that trumps everything.” If there was one kind of person on this earth that irritated Jeremy, it was a deadbeat like Bil y. If only he could go back in time and drop the guy into his own life as a kid, he’d find out what hel
really
felt like. And family or not, if a man crossed him the way Bil y had crossed Bernie, he’d make damned sure it never happened again.

“When did your father die?” Jeremy asked.

“About eight years ago. After he was gone, I had to leave the military to come home and take care of my mother.”

“Why? That should have been long before her diagnosis.”

“I came home for my father’s funeral. I stayed two weeks, made sure my mother was okay. Three months later, I came home on leave, and I couldn’t believe what I found. Bil y and his skanky girlfriend of the month had moved in with my mother. The spare bedroom was trashed. My mother had missed paying several of her bil s since my father died. She’d never been terribly good at taking care of herself—my father handled everything—but I assumed she’d at least write al the checks she needed to. If I’d been gone another month, they would have started foreclosure proceedings on her house. I was stupid not to realize how impractical she real y was, and how devastated she was by my father’s death. It just paralyzed her.

And now with her il ness…”

“Did your father have life insurance?”

“Some. My mother gave it to a ‘financial planner’ at her church to invest for her. He lost most of it before I even knew what was happening.”

Jeremy couldn’t believe this. It was pretty clear that Eleanor trusted just about anybody she met, and it got her into trouble every time.

“So you moved back to Dal as,” he said.

“As soon as I could. In the meantime, I had al her bil s rerouted to me so I could make sure they got paid. I’m stil doing it.”

“Then you went to work for Gabe Delgado.”

“Yeah. And I’ve been there ever since. I stil worried when I had to travel for a week or two at a time, but I got home often enough to keep things from fal ing apart.” She sighed. “Guess traveling isn’t something I’m going to have to worry about anymore.” He’d had no idea. The entire time she’d been working for him, she’d been dealing with al this?

“What kind of health insurance does your mother have?”

Bernie closed her eyes. “She doesn’t have insurance. She let it lapse after my father died.”

“Nobody else would cover her?”

“She was fifty-seven years old with high blood pressure. Then she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

No insurance company in America would cover her now. I have to make sure I have options when the time comes.”

Jeremy couldn’t believe just how much Bernie was having to deal with. And now she was pregnant? He had always known she was a tough woman, but he’d had no idea just how tough.

Then al at once he understood something he’d never understood before, and the realization hit him like a brick to the side of his head.

“Is that why you’re living at Creekwood?” he asked.

“To save money for your mother’s care?” She shrugged weakly. “Doesn’t help much, but I’ve reached a point where every penny has to count.” Jeremy’s stomach twisted with the realization of just how much of an ass he’d been. Tel ing her again and again to stop being cheap and go live somewhere decent, never knowing that circumstances were driving her to sacrifice her own wel -being to help somebody else.

“You’ve taken on a lot where your mother is concerned,” Jeremy said.

“You’d have done the same thing. If someone in your family—”

“I don’t have any family.”

“Come on. Everybody has family.”

“A few distant relatives, maybe.”

“What about your mother and father?”

“I never knew my mother. And my father is dead.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. When did he die?”

“Several years ago. But I hadn’t seen him since I was eighteen.”

“Real y? Why?”

“Because the moment I graduated from high school, I was out of there.” He paused. “And I never looked back.”

“Why didn’t you want to see him?”

“Now, Bernie. Are you sure you want to hear my sad story?”

“You listened to mine.”

He shrugged offhandedly. “Let’s see. My mother ran off when I was three years old. My father was a shiftless, alcoholic bum who couldn’t hold a job. We lived in a hel hole of an apartment in the worst part of Houston.”

“Oh, my God. That’s awful.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Now, I told you it was a sad story, didn’t I?”

“Wait a minute. I read somewhere that you graduated from Stonebriar Academy. That’s not exactly in the low-rent district.”

“I did. When I was in the eighth grade, I had a teacher who thought I had a shot at getting a scholarship to Stonebriar. With his help, I did. Trouble was, I had to get there every day, and it was eighteen miles from where I lived.”

“Your father couldn’t take you?”

“My father refused to take me. In fact, he did everything he could to discourage me from going there.”

“Why?”

“Because he was a bitter, jealous old man.”

“So what did you do?”

“I rode a city bus thirty-six miles round-trip every day and walked the other two miles.”

Bernie was astonished. She’d always known he came from a bad background, but she’d never realized how much he’d had to do to climb out of it.

“That took a lot of guts,” Bernie said.

“I wanted a decent education. That was the only way to get it. But looking back, al the crap I went through turned out to be a real motivator. It got me where I am today. Everything turned out just fine.” His nonchalance astonished her. It was as if his past had been nothing more than a speed bump on a side street, and he’d simply hopped over it to get to the freeway. He was an amazing man in more ways than she’d ever realized, and she was glad he’d risen above that background to have some of the best things life had to offer.

“Did what you went through with your father growing up have anything to do with you wanting to be part of these babies’ lives?” she asked.

He sat there for a long time, his arms crossed, staring down. Then he lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “To tel you the truth, Bernie, I don’t know if I can be a decent parent or not. God knows I had a lousy example. But I don’t want these kids growing up thinking they have a father who doesn’t give a damn.

Because I do. You know that, don’t you?” There had been a time when she would have sworn his capacity for caring was practical y nonexistent, that he could never be the kind of man she or her babies could depend on. But tonight she’d seen a different side of him, giving her a feeling of warmth and comfort she’d never anticipated.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I do.”

“You look tired,” he said. “Why don’t you let me take you up to your room?”

Jeremy stood up and held out his hand. Bernie looked up at him, feeling elated and worried al at the same time. Elated because he’d gone so far to help her tonight, but worried that because of everything he was doing for her, one day soon she was going be so deeply in debt to him that getting out would be impossible.

She slid her hand into his. He helped her to her feet. She felt a little bleary-eyed and clumsy from fal ing asleep on the sofa, but then she felt Jeremy’s palm warm against the smal of her back, guiding her to the stairs. She felt so tired that each step she climbed was a little harder than the last. When they reached the second-floor landing, Jeremy slid his hand up her back and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pul ing her next to him as they walked. A little voice inside her head told her that just letting him touch her was a mistake, but it felt so good that she just didn’t want to tel him not to.

They came to her room. She reached for the doorknob, but he gently pul ed her around to face him.

“Bernie? Why didn’t you ask for my help tonight?”

“Because it’s not your problem.”

“It’s not Max’s or Teresa’s problem either, but you saw nothing wrong with asking them.”

“You were at a meeting.”

“I don’t care if I have an audience with the pope,” he said. “The next time you have a problem, you come to me. Wil you do that?”

She shrugged weakly. “I guess it depends on the problem.”

Jeremy smiled briefly, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get through to you sometimes?”

“We’re both a little stubborn like that, aren’t we?” He slid his hand behind her neck, leaned in, and kissed her gently on the forehead. She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his lips and the gentle strength of his hand against her neck.

“I promised hands off,” he said. “Was that out of line?”

“No,” she said, tipping her gaze up briefly before lowering it again. “It was nice.”

“Bernie?”

“Yes?” she said, meeting his eyes again.

“Tomorrow evening… wil you have dinner with me downstairs?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that.”

“Good. I’l let Mrs. Spencer know.”

She nodded, then turned around and slipped through the doorway, closing the door behind her. She stopped and stood there for a moment, feeling breathless and lightheaded. She closed her eyes and put her fingertips against her forehead where he’d kissed her, feeling as if she was going to melt right into the floor. Then she lowered her fingertips to touch them to her own lips.

He’s not who you thought he was. He’s more.

He’s so much more.

At five o’clock the next afternoon, Jeremy left his office at Sybersense and climbed into his car.

“Home, sir?” Max said.

“We’re taking a little detour first,” Jeremy said.

“Where to?”

Jeremy gave him Eleanor’s address, which Max punched into the car’s GPS.

“Bernie’s mother lives on that street,” Max said.

“That’s where we’re going,” Jeremy said. “Bernie’s cousin Bil y is staying with Eleanor. I need to have a talk with him. Know the guy?”

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