Authors: Linda Cajio
“Because I have to!” he shouted. The images all blended in his head. The kid with the gun … Amanda crying because classmates
jeered that her father was a killer … having to move her to another school … the trial … the same thing happening all over again. Everything jumbled up until he couldn’t stand it any longer. He would never do anything to remind Amanda of that time. He wouldn’t put her through that again. “Dammit, Judith, leave this alone. It’s none of your business in the first place!”
She stared at him, then turned away. “I see.”
He wanted to say something to make things right, but she went into the bathroom before he could stop her. Paul cursed and stormed to the kitchen. He took out a bottle of whiskey and poured himself two fingers’ worth. He stared at the amber liquid, then gulped it down. He had no desire to get drunk, just to steady his nerves. The damn stuff didn’t work though. It only burned a fire in his stomach.
He hadn’t wanted to fight with her. He hadn’t wanted to fight with his mother either, but he didn’t feel like the world had ended because he had. He didn’t expect his mother to understand, but why couldn’t Judith? She must see the torture he put himself through to stay away from his own kid. Did she think he took pleasure from it? Why couldn’t she leave it alone?
He sat at the counter, waiting. Just waiting. He heard Judith emerge from the bathroom. He heard the bedroom light click on. He heard it
click off. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but he sagged with relief when he realized that she had gone to bed.
He looked at the glass in his hand for a few more minutes, then took a deep breath and got up. He went into the bedroom.
“Don’t turn on the light, please,” her disembodied voice said in the darkness.
“All right.” He took his hand from the switch. He stripped to his briefs, dumping his shirt and pleated trousers on the floor. When he got into bed, he wondered if she would cuddle against him as she’d been doing.
She stayed on her side of the mattress.
Although he was still angry with her about her interference over Amanda, Paul wondered if he should reach for her. He really didn’t want to fight. He only wanted that part of his life left alone.
But the terrible silence between them kept him from making the first move to make up. It grew until it felt like a wall ten feet thick. He had wanted a way to protect himself emotionally, knowing their relationship would never last. This distance, however, sliced through his heart. He couldn’t have imagined the kind of pain he was feeling now.
If he dozed during the night, he couldn’t remember doing so. The night was an endless wakefulness of lying next to her, not touching or shifting to his side to watch the digital clock
numbers change. The sun’s first rays were just stretching over the horizon when he got up for the day. The final couple of weeks with Judith would be awful if this kept up, whether they didn’t speak or whether she continued to push the issue of his daughter.
When he came out of the bathroom, she was standing in the bedroom doorway, dressed.
“I’m going back to the trailer,” she said.
Paul’s world dissolved like a metal toy plunged into a raging fire.
“I don’t think this will work anymore,” she continued. “I think you were right about affairs.”
He had to say something to stop her, something to make her stay, for he knew if she walked out, she would never walk back in again. “Do you want me to bring Gringo down for you?”
“No. I’ll just get my things from the bathroom.”
She walked past him, far enough away that she didn’t brush against him in the hall—and yet close enough for him to want desperately to reach out to her. She came out with her toothbrush, shampoo, and other paraphernalia, taking the same non-touching path. He let her go.
He went to the kitchen and made coffee. His hands shook. The coffee perked. The front door opened and shut. Paul sat on a stool.
She was gone.
Judith surprised Pedro when she inquired about using the trailer again, but to her relief he asked no questions. Thank goodness for true entrepreneurs. They never asked the why of a transaction, they only aimed to please.
Judith unlocked and entered the trailer, finding it in the same condition she’d left it days before. A lifetime before. She shut the door on prying eyes.
Why, she wondered, didn’t she just leave Sunset Cove? All her concern for being caught and coerced by Collier Chocolates was nothing next to her aching heart.
His life was none of her business
. That had hurt so horribly, she had nearly been physically ill from the words. She was no more than a sexual partner, nothing more, no matter how much she had tried to kid herself into
believing differently. She hadn’t listened to him in the beginning. Well, she had listened now.
She bet he was grateful she had left. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel any better for having broken their relationship first. He had only asked her if she wanted the dog. The dog!
Judith realized how permanently their relationship had been broken … had never even
been
. She finally gave in to her tears. She didn’t know how long she cried, but nothing had ever hurt worse than this. From the moment she had set foot in Sunset Cove, she’d been out of her realm. Each step further along had been exhilarating, enticing her into the morass until it swamped her.
When she finally pulled herself together enough to function, she found her brain couldn’t turn off the images. Restless for anything to divert her, she went outside. Maybe she could find someone to take her to the grocery store up the road. She needed supplies, having cleaned out her place when she’d gone to Paul’s, and she couldn’t bring herself to use her Mercedes.
The late afternoon sun signaled her usual swim time with the kids. She wasn’t up to swimming, knowing she’d be reminded too sharply of her and Paul and their daily ritual. She found it ironic that their breakup was over a child, a child she had never seen. A child she had more faith in than he did.
She resisted the overwhelming urge to look at
Paul’s house, to see if he was out on the patio. To see if he was watching for her.
Instead, she walked to the construction site. She found Pedro working on his permanent house. He was putting up two-by-fours in a back room.
“Hi,” she said. “Am I disturbing you?”
“No, no, Señorita,” he said, grinning at her. “My wife, she’s having a baby, so I must add a nursery room to the house.”
“Congratulations!” Her heart lifted at the truly happy news.
“
Gracias
. We are very happy. We like the babies. But Miguel is a little unhappy that his room will be smaller because of the new one. Aiee …!”
The tall piece of wood started to slip from his hands. Before it could crash to the floor, Judith rushed over and braced it, helping him to right it.
“
Gracias
. The wood is expensive in the Baja, and I was afraid it would break or crack. Then it’s no good.”
Judith nodded, seeing his point. The wood was smooth under her palms, yet she could feel the grain running along its side. She almost wanted to caress it. “The baby may come before this room’s ready for him,” she said.
“The whole house may not be ready before the baby comes,” Pedro admitted. “I work when I have the time and the money. But I must work faster, I think.”
“I can help you if you like,” she volunteered. “I … well, I’m free now.”
Pedro nodded, then hammered in a nail to secure the wood to the frame. He didn’t ask, but Judith knew he must have a good idea of what had happened. First she moved into Paul’s house, then she moved back out. It was pretty obvious.
“Pedro, I need supplies. Milk and such. Could you take me?” she asked, then belatedly remembered Paul’s warning about Pedro’s car and driving habits. But the words were already out, not to be taken back.
“You don’t drive your car,
Señorita
Judith?” he asked. “It’s a very good car. And very pretty. As pretty as you.”
She wanted to shake her head at his flattery, but was afraid his machismo would be insulted. “Thank you. My car …” She shrugged. “It’s not good on these roads.”
“Oh,
sí
.” Clearly he thought she was trying to preserve her vehicle. That was fine by her. “I will take you. No problem. Would you like to go now?”
Judith looked at the pile of lumber on the concrete floor. She knew he must have been planning to work for the rest of the afternoon. “Later is fine. Whenever it’s convenient for you.”
“I will finish this wall framing and then I will take you,” he said. “The gas will be ten dollars.”
Judith smiled ruefully. She should have known. “That’s fine.”
She realized that her brain had relegated Paul into the background, like a dull headache, during her conversation with Pedro. That was something to be grateful for.
She only wished she were.
Several hours later, as Pedro’s Cadillac careened down the dirt road to the cove, Judith wished she could scream in terror. Her vocal cords, though, were clamped shut from fear. The car fishtailed nearly three hundred and sixty degrees before Pedro righted it. The Caddy hit the big bump at full speed, sailing above the roadway for a good ten yards, then landed with a bang on the road again. The interior bounced up and down like a yo-yo until Judith felt like the little head-bobbing dog at the rear window. If she bobbed anymore, she’d be seasick. The little Madonna statue on the front dash threatened to go over, and she grabbed for it, taking advantage to brace herself on the dash.
The car hit a few more bumps before finally stopping at the bottom of the hill.
“We make good time, no?” Pedro said, nodding at the clock.
“Wonderful time,” Judith muttered, slowly pushing away from the dash. Her entire body had been shaken to a pile of dust as they made “good time.” Her milk must be butter now. And her eggs! If any weren’t broken, it would be a miracle.
That she had lived through the ride
was
a miracle.
At least it had diverted her thoughts for a little while.
But the diversion ended when she emerged from the car. Paul was striding toward them, a thunderous expression on his face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“Getting a ride to the store,” she said sweetly, very proud of her emotional command. She got her sack of groceries, noting nothing felt injured, then turned to Pedro. “Thank you so much, Pedro. You’re a wonderful driver. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She walked away, leaving the two men together. Not for long though. Paul caught up with her quickly.
“I warned you about Pedro’s driving,” he said. “What are you? Crazy?”
She shrugged.
“I’ll take you to the store next time.”
She stopped, then started walking again. “No. You won’t.”
His jaw tightened, then he burst out, “I won’t have you going with Pedro.”
“That’s not your business.” God, but the words felt good to say.
Unfortunately, Paul didn’t get the connection. “The hell it’s not! I saw you come down the hill. He damn near killed you both.”
“Hardly.” He had, but she wasn’t about to admit it to this man. “Why are you here, Paul?”
“I—” He paused. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I don’t need a keeper.”
He laughed, not a pleasant sound. “Honey, nobody needs a keeper more than you.”
“What I don’t need is your patronizing.” She had reached her trailer finally. “Thank you for your advice, and good-bye.”
She tried to open the door, but her hands were fall and she fumbled with the lock. Paul reached around her and smoothly did it for her. Okay, she thought. He was better at opening doors than she.
She stepped inside, but before she could close the door after her, he came in.
Judith stared at him. He filled her little home, practically looming over her. She ought to be angry with him for coming in uninvited, but she felt a ripple of uneasiness instead. Forcing bravado, she said, “I don’t believe I issued an invitation.”
“I did. I want to talk with you.”
She set her packages down. “I don’t wish to talk with you. I have groceries to put away.”
“You wouldn’t if you had stayed with me.”
“I saw no future in it.”
He was silent for so long, Judith wanted to explode from the tension. Finally he said, “I
don’t understand why you can’t let my daughter go. It’s my personal life, my family, not yours—”
“That’s exactly why,” she said. “You want to sleep with me, but I’m not to give an opinion on any other part of your life. I’m to be quiet and be ready for whenever you want sex.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not.” She curled her fingers into fists and kept her gaze steady on him. “How can it be, when you tell me your life is none of my business.”
“We barely know each other.”
“And that’s how it will stay as long as we stay out of each other’s business.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Judith. Hell, you can’t even make up your mind over some damn board meeting.”
That stung. She held her head up, refusing to let him see her hurt. “You don’t understand—”
“Ha! Just as you don’t!”
“Your attitude is far more damaging than mine will be.”
“I doubt that.”
“We have nothing to say to each other, Paul. Why don’t you go now?”
“Because I can’t, dammit.” He grabbed her by the arms, pulling her against him. “You’ve done something to me. I can’t stand it.”
He kissed her. Judith kissed him back fervently, as if accepting any outlet for her hurt and
anger. His tongue thrust at hers, circling, dueling, mating over and over until their overwhelming need softened to love. Judith clung to him, her hips pressed intimately to his. She wanted him desperately and didn’t understand it.
When he eased his mouth away, he tucked her head in his shoulder. “What are we doing to each other?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice breaking. She wanted only to be there like this with him. All her resistance, all her common sense, seemed for nothing against how she felt about him.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said. “Can’t you respect my feelings?”