Never Me (29 page)

“Better?” he said, giving me a warm glance. I nodded my head looking out my window, squeezing his hand.

“Why are you so late?” I asked in a whisper.

“The day I got your email, my father died.” I quickly turned my attention to him and saw his demeanor was the same, but there was a sadness in his face.

“Spencer, God, I am so sorry. I am so so sorry.” He looked at me, a silent thank you in his eyes.

“I knew it would happen. I was expecting it. Didn’t make a damn bit of difference. It still hurts like hell.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Then sit there, beautiful,” he teased, still testing the waters.

“It’s okay now, to be nice to me, to say things … like that. I kind of got rid of the chip on my shoulder.”

“That’s good news. What made you change your mind?”

“I changed my own mind. It happens often.” I chuckled and squeezed his hand. “Spencer, really your father, I can’t even…” I clutched my heart with my free hand, showing him I knew how hard that loss would affect me. “If you ever want to talk about it, or just whatever, you know.”

“Yeah, I will. It’s good to see you, stranger,” he said as the cabin of the car became smaller and the feeling more intimate. I was relaxed and more than ready to explore the waters with him. In a matter of minutes Spencer had not only smoothed away my worries, but had my heart bouncing in every corner of my chest.

She was just as beautiful if not more so than she was at twenty when I left her. It had been years since I’d seen or spoken to her and I knew the minute I saw her in that jail cell I wanted all of her. That fucking brilliant mind of hers was more than enough to start, but I couldn’t help the need in me. I had only grabbed her hand and every single fiber of me had come to attention. The chemistry was still there.

She had called me crazy. I chuckled to myself hoping it matched whatever she was saying. She gave me a smile and looked out her window to the darkness. I used the leeway to adjust myself quickly. Damn it, I had waited so long to see her, to touch her. I wasn’t about to screw it up with my raging need to ruin her or the chance we had to finally be us.

I couldn’t believe I was sitting next to the New Orleans “it” detective. I knew she was more than capable. Whether she knew it or not, she would exceed all her own expectations and then some. I wanted to tell her how much I admired her, how amazing I thought it was that she had accomplished so much in our time apart. I had made a name for myself, but was only mildly proud of my accomplishments until asking for an endorsement to claim the seat as judge. I had tried my best to heed my father’s warning to not make my life about my career. Though I didn’t know it at the time, it was the most important conversation of my life.

I was putting my father in bed after another one of his endless self-destructive days. He was skin and bones and looked ghostly pale. He reached for the bottle of scotch on his nightstand and when I pulled it away he smirked.

“I am proud of you, Spencer.” His voice was distant as if he was talking to me while in a daydream.

He looked nothing like the man who sat me on his lap when I was a boy and patiently waited as I pounded on the keys to find my musical grace. That man was long gone, and what was left was horrifying. He looked far past his fifty-six years and his eyes were bloodshot with a hint of yellow. I could barely stand the sight of him, trying to keep the memory of who he once was fresh in my mind. I felt my chest tighten as he commanded my attention once more.

“Don’t make your life all about your career, Spencer. Don’t do it. There is nothing more profound, nor will there ever be, than your place in the heart of the woman you love.” He took a series of breaths as if to fight off some overwhelming pain.

“My ambition ruined me, son. It ruined me. I had it all. I got greedy and wanted more. I had her love, her loyalty, her respect and I threw it away. I pushed her away to be … more. All I had to do was look at her to know I was enough. It was never my failures in my work that made her look at me that way, it was her disappointment in the way I loved her.”

“You should sleep, Dad. I’ll check on you in the morning.” I turned out his bedside light and he quickly sat up and turned it back on.

“Spencer, listen to me. I may not have your respect anymore but I know that you aren’t happy. I know it, son. I just want you to think long and hard about what you are doing. Don’t waste any more time running a fool’s errand!”

“And just what do you suppose I do, Dad?”

“Do better!”

“Okay, Dad.”

“Promise me, Spencer.” He didn’t wait for a response. He was out.

I studied his frail body as he lay unconscious on his colossal bed. I studied him for a minute longer and whispered, “Why couldn’t you do better?”

I looked around the enormous bedroom. It hadn’t changed much at all over the years. I felt a chill run through me as I looked back at his place in the bed and the empty spot next to it. I really couldn’t blame her anymore. I also knew I could never forgive her.

I grew up in nothing short of a spectacular townhome. I noted the high ceilings, marble floors, and intricately carved wood throughout. It seemed cold to me now, and I knew why. My father had brought the warmth to this home and now he was less than a shell of a man, it had more of a museum feel to it now. Every picture, every piece of furniture screamed ‘Don’t Touch.’ I descended the stairs and traced the banner, following it to the curved end with my fingertips like I did when I was a kid. I stared in the parlor room at the grand piano. I walked over to it to see an absolute mess of completely unreadable sheet music. I felt another stab in my chest as I picked them all up and stacked them neatly, leaving them on the top of the piano. I felt another shiver wash through me as I locked the door when I left. It was the last time I saw my father, and the last time I ever set foot in that cold home.

It took the better part of six months to settle my father’s estate and set my mother up comfortably. I wanted no part of my mother’s new life. She was now free to live how she pleased, and so was I. I will never regret being near my father or the fact I had ironed out our relationship to the extent that I had, finally started living before he started dying. He understood. He loved me. He never held it against me even though he needed me and at times I wasn’t there. It was never my fault. I had to repeat that daily. My grief led me down a dark road, and when I’d had enough I decided to do better, like he asked me to. And by better I meant leaving a job I hated and city I had grown tired of for a complete change. And by better I also meant Nadine who was smiling at me now, waiting on a response. Shit. What did she ask?

“Spencer?”

“Sorry, I was watching the GPS. What was the question?”

“Amy and Jack, how are they? Rory spoke with them for a while after our first trip you know.”

“No, I didn’t. They didn’t mention it.” Probably because I had told them I didn’t want to know anything at all after I had felt dismissed, after pouring my chest out into a letter to her. I was still kicking myself for that stupid stunt.

“Sooooo?”

“Oh, they’re fine. They have a son,” I said, taking my hand from hers, and feeling the loss, to adjust the GPS.

“I know. They had him exactly nine months after our trip,” she said chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, eyeing her long legs.

“Nothing,” she said in a whisper, taking my hand out of my lap, accidentally brushing against me and making my whole body stiffen. She noticed, I had no doubt about it, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“And Ellie?” she asked sweetly. “I did look her up and we spoke a few times. She said she was dating an artist?”

“She married and divorced him. It was an annulment, actually, and I handled it. Poor thing. Luckily he didn’t try to take her for anything. He was a true piece of shit, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I actually set her up with the new one. He’s a good guy. I think they are doing great. I don’t know, it’s been a while since I spoke to her.”

“I still miss Jack and Amy.” I felt the tug in my chest when I heard the small amount of sadness in her voice. She finished with, “They were the best people I had ever met. Still are.”

“They’re coming to New Orleans in a few months.” This made her happy and for that I was grateful. It’s all I wanted. This was definitely better. She turned my hand over in her lap and began making circles with her pointer. I felt my heart free fall. This was better than better.

All I wanted was his touch, so I touched him as much as possible. It was almost impossible not to crawl into his lap while he was driving. I couldn’t bear the thought of this not working out. I was babbling on and on about Rory and work and everything that came to mind. I was still a little on edge, but this time for a different reason.

I wanted him. I needed him to know it. I started making circles in his palm, similar to the ones he had made on my back after we made love the last time. I was consumed by his scent. I glanced at the GPS and was relieved when we only had twenty miles left on our trip. I could comfortably say we were reacquainted. What I didn’t know was how long I could keep myself in check. The girl he had known was a self-proclaimed whore. I wasn’t her anymore and hadn’t been since the day I left her on the beach. I couldn’t sleep with him, not yet. I had to let him know I had grown in that way, I had already proven it to myself. I didn’t want him to think I was the same girl. I was far from it. Though opening myself to the possibility of love had been a total nightmare, aside from Thad who was unfortunately too nice of a guy, I had realized so much from my few years of dating. I hoped to show him.

“So tell me about them,” Spencer said, guarded.

“Them?” I asked, almost sure he was digging around in my mind.

“The men,” he said, clipped.

“The men?” I chuckled and saw him give me a stern look. Whoa, he wanted to know if I was still the way I used to be.

“Oh, there have been thousands. I mean I had at least a dozen lined up this week.”

“Very funny. Really, I want to know.”

“Why? No way, no need, really. Sex has been a mirage for me for a solid eight months. I’ve grown to be an old cat lady.”

“The hell you say?”

“Really, I have a cat … named Spencer.”

“You didn’t.” He chuckled.

“I did. I wanted to re..” Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Remember me?” he said, hopeful.

“Yes, Spencer, I did. I didn’t need that sack of fur to do it, either. I dated too and it wasn’t fun.” I turned in my seat to confront him. “You know you ruined practically all of my dates. And are you aware dragging a girl inside a bar full of geriatrics and dancing with her in the street is highly romantic? After that, dinner and a movie really doesn’t cut it. What the hell were you thinking? No one does that shit.”

“Thank you,” he said chuckling. “And there are romantic men out there, Nadine.”

“I’ve only dated one. Well, Thad was good to me. He was my first boy—“ I felt the tension in Spencer surface. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Sure. I dated. I had a girlfriend. Sarah.”