Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) (38 page)

“Side of her?”

“She told me she didn’t like me spending the weekend with you. She doesn’t trust me.”

“Heck, she probably doesn’t trust
me
. I told her I loved you. I’m not so sure any woman would want to hear that from a woman who’d slept with her boyfriend. Especially if she was in love with the guy. Try and see it from her viewpoint, Mac. Our situation—” She wagged her finger between them. “—is pretty unusual, you’ve got to admit.”

“Yeah, but I told her the sex was over years ago and so did you. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. I said it wasn’t up to her to decide who I can have as friends. She hung up on me.” Graciella had to let go of her past. If she couldn’t trust him, they were doomed. He wouldn’t go ballistic if she had a close male friend. At least he was pretty sure he wouldn’t.

“I take back what I said, Mac. You’re as clueless as most men. Face it; you’re so in love with that woman and her son, your thinking processes have been damaged. Why didn’t you call me and cancel? Would that have been so hard, macho guy?”

“First I’m a girl and now I’m macho guy? Make up your mind, woman. Jeez. No wonder guys are so confused about the mysteries of the female brain. Are you going to sit there and tell me that if I’d called to cancel—if I’d told you Graciella didn’t want me to spend time with you—it would have been OK?”

“I’d have been temporarily pissed, sure, but I’d get over it. Looking at it from her side, I’d be very wary of any woman who showed the slightest interest in you. Men like you are hard to come by, Mac, as hard as it is for me to admit.”

“God Almighty, Mis. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” The smile on his face threatened to split his cheeks. Beachy was unique for sure. He pitied any man who took a serious interest in her but would be the first in line to congratulate him on getting past her armor.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Not likely, since it took you over ten years to say so.” He leaned across the gap between them and planted a smooch on her cheek. “So I’m a catch?”

She rubbed it off like a child who’d received an unwelcome kiss from a fat old uncle. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He laughed and leaned back in the seat.

She continued to needle him, “Are you going to call her?”

“No, I’ll let her stew for a while. I’ll see her next Saturday at the park league baseball game. She’ll probably have cooled off by then.” He hoped so, because he wasn’t sure what his next step should be if she hadn’t.

“Don’t mess up, Mac.”

Quiet for several minutes, their conversation for the last half hour of the long drive centered on the dog trials. She’d enjoyed training the sniffer dogs, but was so intrigued at the Iron Dog Trials she said she might want to go into that line.

“You’d have to quit your job with Customs if you did that. There go all your government benefits.”

“Yeah. I need to give it a lot more thought. I’m not so sure I want to keep working for the government.” She turned down his street and pulled into his driveway, parked, and opened her door. “I’ll stretch for a few minutes before I head out.”

“You should spend the night here.”

She snorted. “And take the chance on her showing up? You’re even dumber than I thought.”

He let her little insult pass. “How much farther are you planning on driving tonight? Don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter, deadheading all the way to Frisco.”

“I’m only going as far as Santa Barbara. I made a reservation at a motel just off PCH for the night. I’ve stayed there before. A guy I once knew in Seattle owns it.”

“A guy?” Cluny surprised himself with the question. Where she stayed and with whom was none of his business.

“Yes, a guy. And his wife. She and I were in high school together. They’ve been married forever. Did I detect a hint of jealousy, Marine?” She faced him with her arms crossed.

“More like concern.”

“I can take care of myself, Mac.”

“So you’ve made abundantly clear.” He reached inside for his bag. Queen bounded over the backseat and out of the Jeep. Setting the duffle on the ground, he embraced her. “Ease up, soldier. I’m allowed to be concerned about my friends. Give us a good-bye kiss.”

Beachy sighed and rested her forehead in the center of his chest for a second then raised her face to his. “The squad didn’t call me Misty Bitchy for nothing.” She kissed him lightly on the lips and hugged him hard. “I’ll be seeing you, Mac.”

“Love you, Mis.” He held her face in his hands and ran his thumbs over her lovely cheekbones, remembering their unique past, and how they’d saved each other over there.

“Love you back. So long, Queenie. If you have to, give Mac a bite on the ass. He can be a stubborn SOB.”

Cluny stood on his front porch watching the taillights of her car until they winked out of sight. He shook his head and put his key in the lock to open the door to his empty house.

Graciella’s kitchen, same evening

“I’ll do that.” Earl carried Graciella’s made-from-scratch Brazilian Coconut Cake with lighted candles to the table and placed it in front of Lillian. “You’ll blow coconut flakes all the way to the front door, but go ahead and make your birthday wish, Lil.”

“Wait! We have to sing Happy Birthday to Grandma first.”

Lillian covered her ears at the loud, off-tune chorus.

“Come on, Mama. We have to hold hands when Grandma makes her wish.”

Lillian stared at the candles, took a big breath, then blew them out.

“What did you wish for, Grandma?”

“I have to keep it secret or it might not come true,” Lillian said, “but I’ll give you a hint. It had to do with your mama and that fine-looking baseball coach of yours.”

Graciella gripped the back of the chair. She’d been able to hold it together for days now, but that happy comment from Marvin’s mother was all it took to undo her. “I’m sorry will you excuse me? Don’t wait for me, Lillian. Cut the cake. I’ll just be a minute.” She rushed from the room on shaky legs making a beeline to her bathroom. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. She made it to the toilet in the nick of time and then vomited up her supper. On her knees, she held hair away from her face. For a stark fearful moment, the possibility she might be pregnant clutched her belly. No, she told herself, that wasn’t possible. They’d always been careful. Heaving violently, she lowered her head close to the toilet bowl and threw up what little was left.

“Graciella? Are you ill?” Lillian tapped on the bathroom door then cracked it open. “Oh, dear, you are aren’t you?” She took a cloth from the stack on the shelf and wrung it out in cold water then pressed it to Graciella’s forehead.

“I’m sorry to spoil your party, Lillian.”

“Don’t be silly, dear.” She laid her palm to her daughter-in-law’s cheek. “You don’t seem feverish. Did this come on suddenly, or have you been poorly before tonight?”

Graciella shook her head. “I was a little queasy at the park yesterday afternoon. I probably got too much sun. It’s been blazing hot all week.” That was it. Too much sun. “I’m OK, Lillian. Just give me a couple of minutes to splash water on my face. Does everyone else feel OK?”

“We’re fine, honey. I’ll go on out and let the boys know you’re all right. Take your time.”

The nausea passed as quickly as it had come. Graciella washed her face. She pinned her hair back on the sides, smoothed her blouse, and returned to the table. Earl held her chair and squeezed her shoulders as she sat down.

She stared at the small slice of cake on the plate in front of her, suddenly famished. Lifting her fork, she smiled across the table at Santos and took a small bite. “Mmm, one of my best.”

“It certainly is.” Lillian agreed. “Earl’s taking some to Cluny’s warehouse in the morning so we can share it with Chief and the other boys. He was planning to stop in and go to lunch with Chief anyway.”

Santos bounced in his seat. “I made a wish on Grandma’s candles too, Mama, but I’m not telling you because I really want it to come true. I’ll wish it again at the birthday party next month for me and Amber just to make sure.”

She swallowed the bite of cake and smiled. Her precious son.

When she woke the next morning, she cried with relief because she’d started her period right on schedule. Then she cried because Cluny hadn’t called her when he got home from San Diego.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Friday evening, five days later

Graciella couldn’t face him. Not after he’d failed to call her. She phoned Earl. “Could you take Santos to the game tomorrow? I have a private lesson with a new couple who recently signed up for a series. The only time they can come is on Saturday afternoons.” She glanced at Santos, sitting morosely across the kitchen counter. “You can? Thanks, Earl. He’ll be ready to leave at one.”

Santos frowned. “What should I tell Macfearsome?”

“Tell him the truth.”

It was mostly the truth. She’d asked the couple to come in on Saturday afternoon instead of Friday evening. They hadn’t been thrilled about changing their plans, but she assured them they’d be doing her a great one-time favor, and in return she’d give them a nice discount on the package. She now needed a valid excuse not to go to any of the games for the rest of the summer season.

Thursday evening

Marla called. “We missed you on Saturday. I hope everything is OK.”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I picked up a new couple who wanted their private lesson on Saturday afternoon. It’s a very nice fee. I couldn’t afford to pass up the income.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. At least Santos’s grandparents stood in for you.”

Graciella thought Marla suspected something was not right between her and Cluny, but all she said was, “Yes, I’m so glad they were there for him. Oh, Marla, I have to go. The last group for this evening just came into the studio. We’ll talk later.”

“OK, let’s try and get together for dinner soon.”

“Yes, let’s. Bye.” A sick feeling filled her chest. She hated brushing off Marla, but until Cluny made some effort to put things right between them, she saw no reason to discuss their differences with anyone.

Not only had he failed to called that Sunday evening as he’d promised, she’d heard nothing from him all week. She’d analyzed and re-analyzed her feelings before and after the fateful phone call eleven days ago. She was entitled to her feelings! Why was that so difficult for him to understand? He shouldn’t have accused her of wanting to pick his friends. He’d picked apart her words to make them suit his interpretation, not what she’d actually meant. How was she to know how prickly he could be?

The Amber-Santos birthday party was in two weeks. She had no idea how she’d handle the day. The kids had been looking forward to it all summer. The entire baseball team had been invited. If something didn’t give between her and Cluny, it was destined to be very awkward. At some point she’d have to confide in Marla. It would be much better to tell her the truth instead if leaving events open to speculation. She’d promised Marla she’d do her share to make the party a success. And she’d keep her word.

If only he’d call.

Santos’s conversation had consisted of one-word answers or grunts. It was increasingly difficult to overlook his moods and to find excuses why he couldn’t spend a day at Amber’s house. She practically had to drag him out of bed to get them to the studio on time in the mornings. He used to enjoy going to work with her during school vacations, helping at the studio, answering the phone. Now he resented every minute of it.

“Why doesn’t Macfearsome come here anymore?”

She didn’t meet his gaze. “He’s very busy.”

“Don’t answer me like I’m a baby! I have a brain, Mama.” His face brick red with anger, he scowled and put down his fork. “I’m going to my room.”

“No, sweetie, wait, I’m sorry. Finish your dessert. It’s complicated to explain.” She extended her hand and nodded at his chair.

He stood rooted to the floor. Finally, he took his seat but didn’t pick up his fork. “Why do grownups always say ‘it’s complicated’ when they don’t want to tell the truth?”

Santos had never taken this belligerent tone of voice with her before. Her heart ached. And not just because she’d been so unprepared to discuss this with him.

“The truth is it
is
complicated. Cluny and I had a misunderstanding.”

“What kind of misunderstanding? Do you still love him?”

“I—”

“Does he love you?” He’d leaned forward, challenging with his chin. “I know he loves me because he told me so when I asked him why he didn’t come here anymore, why we couldn’t be a family anymore.” His freckled nose wrinkled and tears filled his eyes. “He told me ‘it’s complicated.’ I hate you! I hate him!” With that, he shoved back from the table and ran to his room. His door slammed so hard the TV wobbled on its stand.

Her son’s bitter outburst hurt deep down. Graciella clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut. She was the adult here. She would not react like a wounded child. She’d drawn her son into the budding love affair. He was innocent, his life turned upside down, and it was her doing. She’d been so filled with passion for Cluny that she’d neglected her responsibility as a mother.

If it were possible to go back in time, she wouldn’t have invited Cluny to join them for a cool drink on their beach blanket that day. She’d never have known what it was like to be with him, to love him, to anticipate him coming through the door. Even now, if she closed her eyes and held her breath, she could feel the heat of Cluny’s bare skin under her hands.

The doorbell rang.

Her heart leaped. It must be Cluny. It had to be Cluny. She flew to the door and pulled it open. The hopeful smile died on her face. “What do you want?”

Misty Beachy stared stonily. “We need to talk.”

The last human being on the planet Graciella had anything to say to would be this woman. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“I’m not leaving until you either let me in so we can speak in a civilized manner, or you can shut the door in my face and I’ll shout from out here. What’s it going to be?”