Rescue Me (8 page)

“You need to sit her down and really talk to her, Alex. Jasmine has been through a lot for a little girl. That’s something we all have to remember. Just because she no longer cries every day, it doesn’t mean she’s over Chantal’s death.”

“I know,” Alex admitted.

“Think of how hard it was for you boys when your dad died,” Mama said, wiping her hands with a dishcloth as she made her way to his side. She cradled his jaw in her palm, which was still moist and slightly wrinkled from the water. “Your daughter needs you, Alex. You need to be there for her. Find a way to make her open up to you.”

He nodded, covering her hand. “I’m going to talk to her.”
Eventually
.

After Mama left, Alex poked his head into Jasmine’s room. She sat up in her bed, her back against the headboard, a book opened in her lap.

“How’s it going, Pumpkin?”

She looked up. “Okay, I guess.”

Alex stepped into the room. “Something wrong?”

She shrugged.

“What is it, Jazz?”

“I’m missing
The Suite Life of Zack and Cody
,” she answered. Alex’s mind drew a blank; then he remembered it was one of those shows on the Disney Channel she couldn’t live without.

“No television for the rest of the week is part of your punishment,” Alex reminded her.

“I don’t like being punished,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“That’s the point.” He stepped farther into the room. This was the perfect time to bring up the topic he and Mama had just discussed, but after such a long day, Alex didn’t have the mental strength for such a heavy conversation.

Or maybe he was just being a coward.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

Jasmine held up the book.

“
The Hundred Dresses
by Eleanor Estes. Is it any good?” Alex asked.

“Yes,” Jasmine said with an emphatic nod. “All the people at school make fun of Wanda because she wears the same dress to school every day, so she lied and told them she has a hundred dresses. But, Daddy, they shouldn’t make fun of Wanda just because she’s poor.”

“No, baby. You should never make fun of anyone.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “That sounds like a really good book for you to read.”

“Ms. Moore said it was her favorite book when she was a little girl.”

Alex’s stomach tilted just at the mention of Renee Moore. “So, you like Ms. Moore’s class?” he asked Jasmine.

“Yes.” Jasmine’s eyes lit up. “If I get all the questions right on my next quiz, I get an eraser that looks like an apple and
smells
like an apple. I want that eraser, Daddy.”

Alex chuckled at the seriousness in her voice. “Well, you need to get to reading.”

“I know. And I like the book, too. It’s good.”

“Wow, an eraser that smells like an apple and a good book. School is a lot more fun these days then it was when I was a little boy.”

“You didn’t read good books?”

“Sometimes,” Alex said. “But we didn’t get to pick them ourselves. The teacher picked the books and we all had to read the same one. And we did not get prizes.”

Jasmine shook her head. “Daddy, I am so happy I’m not old like you.”

“Hey, I’m not that old.”

“You’re a little old.”

“That’s better,” Alex said. He leaned over and placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “I’m going to get your clothes ready for school tomorrow, okay, Pumpkin?”

She nodded.

Alex pointed to the clock on her nightstand. “Ten more minutes; then it’s time for you to go to bed. I’ll come back so we can say our prayers together.”

A half hour later, after he’d tucked Jasmine into bed, Alex sat at the desk in the spare bedroom he’d converted into an office. He stared at the computer screen, contemplating the wisdom of picking it up and tossing the machine out the window. His professor had granted him an extension after he explained about his accident, but with the way he had to peck at the keyboard with one hand, he probably still wouldn’t get his paper done on time.

If only he could go back to the days when his required reading was
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
and
Huckleberry Finn
. These days, his reading time was consumed by European history. What in the hell had he been thinking when he’d signed up for this class?

Alex clicked the disk icon at the top of the computer screen to save what little he’d been able to write on his paper, then shut down the word processing program. He would
have to get to bed earlier if he was going to make it to St. Katherine’s on time tomorrow. Jasmine had nearly missed her bus this morning. He hadn’t expected it to take so much longer to get ready, but when trying to operate with only one functional arm he couldn’t expect things to work as smoothly as they usually did.

Alex stripped out of his clothes and covered his bandage with the stretchy, plastic covering Eli had brought him from the hospital to prevent the dressing from getting wet.

He stepped into the separate glass shower and dipped his head under the spray, expelling a contented sigh as the water flowed over his head and down his torso. The stress of the past few days had the muscles in his back rigid, the tension overwhelming. Alex turned the knob on the jets he’d installed—possibly the best decision he’d made when renovating this bathroom. The barrage of high powered water shot out of the stone laid shower wall, attacking his aching muscles with nearly painful force.

God, it felt good.

Alex let the powerful stream beat upon his body. As his muscles began to relax, he allowed his mind to wander. He wasn’t surprised when Renee Moore’s image popped to the forefront of his brain.

Thoughts of her had hovered around the edges of his mind most of the day, and now that he had the time to really concentrate on her, Alex could not banish the onslaught of enticing pictures his mind conjured.

There was something about her that captured his attention as no other woman had in years. That playful smile that tilted her lips and lit up her amazing eyes called to him. She’d been so easy to talk to the first day they’d met, when he’d walked her to her car and held her hand inside his own.

His fingers tingled at the memory.

He soaped his chest, using the heel of his hand to massage
the aching muscles. His hand traveled down his stomach, then moved lower.

Alex closed his eyes as his fist wrapped around the erection he’d become accustomed to taming in his nightly shower. But to night his hand didn’t move with the detachment he usually employed to bring about the physical release his body demanded. For the first time in years, his self gratification ritual was accompanied by a full blown fantasy.

As he focused on the image of Renee’s face, his hand moved in slow, measured strokes. His breathing slowed, becoming labored with each pump of his fist. Alex thought about her smile, and his hand stroked faster. His memory summoned her sexy voice, and he pumped harder. He clenched his eyes tight; his pace frenetic as his fist moved faster and faster, squeezing tighter and tighter, pain mixing with pleasure. In his mind it wasn’t his own hand bringing about this rush of bliss; it was Renee’s.

His release erupted in an explosion of pleasure. Alex braced himself against the shower wall; his knees weakened, his body shuddering as ripples of expended desire reverberated throughout his being.

“Damn,” he whispered on a ragged breath.

He opened his eyes and wiped at the water that flowed down his face in steaming waves. He tried to push himself from the shower wall, but after a slight wobble, realized his muscles didn’t have the strength. Alex sagged against the dripping wet tile, his body slowly recovering from the torrent of erotic sensations still coursing through his veins.

“Have you given up on Mrs. Overland already?”

Alex looked up from the list of students still waiting to see the nurse, finding Renee Moore’s enticing brown eyes staring back at him, a pretty smile gracing her lips.

“Today is the hearing and sight screening for kindergarten through second grade,” he explained, gesturing to the clipboard with his pen. “I’m splitting my time between
helping out in the classroom and giving Nurse Juliana a hand.”

“I didn’t know you went out on loans.” She smiled. “Does this mean I can steal you for the library when I need extra help?”

Was she flirting with him? “Um, I guess,” Alex answered. Her eyes always tended to have that sparkle to them whenever he saw her. He wasn’t sure if the smile in her eyes was just for him, or if everyone was afforded that sexy look.

“I’m only kidding,” she laughed. She gazed over the array of colorful health brochures that had been laid out for the students. She picked up the one with the huge grinning tooth holding a toothbrush.

“Are you sure?” Alex asked. “I wouldn’t mind joining you in the library. Just say the word, and I’m there.” Okay, was
he
flirting now? It had been a long time since he’d played the game.

“Really, that was just a joke,” Renee said. “I’ve been doing a pretty good job holding down the fort in Mrs. Johnson’s absence. The library isn’t in danger of collapsing. Yet.” She smiled. “However, on the subject of needing a little extra help, my aunt nearly did cartwheels when I told her about your offer to check out the house.”

“Good,” Alex said.

“Whenever you’re able to stop by, you will be more than welcome.”

“I can stop by tomorrow after school lets out, if that’s okay.”

She hesitated for just a minute before nodding. “That’s fine.”

“I promise not to take too long,” Alex said, sensing it wasn’t really fine. “I just want to get an idea of the work that still needs to be done so I can give my foreman a heads up. It should take a half hour, tops.”

“Of course, of course” she said. “Let me give you the address.”

She flipped over the smiling tooth pamphlet, took the pen out of Alex’s hand, and jotted an address on it.

“I’ll have Aunt Lorna leave the front door to the house unlocked, just in case no one’s home. It’s not as if there’s anything inside worth stealing.”

“I’ll be there between five thirty and six o’clock.”

“That works for me,” she said. “Thank you so much, Alex.”

“My pleasure,” he said with his own smile.

“I’ll see you later,” she said, and headed down the corridor.

Alex still wasn’t sure if he would admit to actively flirting, but seriously, how long had it been since he’d deliberately smiled at a woman, hoping to elicit a reaction from her? He
was
flirting with Renee Moore.

And he was enjoying it.

Chapter Six

 

Alex spooned two scoops of mashed potatoes from the microwavable dish and brought Jasmine’s plate to the kitchen table where she sat with her chin resting in her hands.

“Are we supposed to have our elbows on the table?” Alex asked.

She slowly dragged her hands away from her face and let them fall into her lap. It would be one of those nights.

“What do you want to drink, apple or cranberry juice?” he asked.

“Can I have Sprite?”

“No. Apple or cranberry?” Alex asked again.

“Cranberry,” Jasmine said with that resignation that had become her signature when she knew she could not get her way.

Alex retrieved two glasses and filled them with cranberry
juice from the refrigerator. He picked up one glass and automatically reached for the other with his right hand, grimacing at the pain that shot through his arm.

He was getting tired of this one handed crap.

It had been nearly a week since he’d left his mama’s house and moved himself and Jasmine back into their home. Alex wondered for about the hundredth time if he’d made a mistake. He had to wake up an hour earlier in the mornings because it took him twice as long to do everything with one arm still incapacitated.

Alex brought Jasmine’s juice to the table, then went back for his own. Taking his seat, he reached out his hand and Jasmine laid her tiny hand in his palm.

She bowed her head and prayed. “Father God, bless this food, my family, and my mommy in heaven. Amen.”

“Amen,” Alex reiterated. He gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go.

His chest tightened at just the thought of this little girl. Her mere existence was such a source of wonder; he could stare at her for hours on end and still marvel at the gift God had given him when He’d blessed him and Chantal with their daughter. Jasmine was the one thing that prevented Alex from completely regretting his ill fated marriage.

It wasn’t until Jasmine asked, “What, Daddy?” that Alex realized he was still staring at her.

“Nothing,” he answered. “How was your music class?” he asked, using his fork to break off a chunk of meat loaf.

“I got to play the cymbals,” Jazz answered around a mouthful of potatoes. He couldn’t fault her for this slip in manners. He
had
asked the question just as she was stuffing the potatoes into her mouth.

Alex wished they could sit and talk cymbals throughout dinner, but that would be avoiding the issue. Dr. Powell had recommended Alex broach the subject of Jasmine’s behavior since he had already been at the school for nearly a week.

“How do you feel about me hanging out at the school?” Alex asked.

She scrunched up her mouth and shrugged.

“What’s that face supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” Jazz mumbled.

“Well, do you like me being at the school, or do you want me to start staying home?”

Another shrug.

This was going well. “Jazz, do you know why I’ve been helping out at the school lately?” Alex asked.

“Because Grandma and the doctor said you can’t pick up big stuff at your job,” she answered.

Alex chuckled. Of course, Grandma’s orders rated higher than the doctor’s.

“That’s true,” he said, “but that’s not the only reason I’ve been at your school this week. You know why Daddy had to put you on punishment, right? Because you called Mrs. Overland nasty names and threw the chalkboard eraser at her.”

She slumped her head, burying her chin in her chest.

“Why did you do that?” Alex asked.

She hitched her shoulders, but said nothing as she pushed the remaining potatoes around her plate.

“Jasmine, look at me.”

She raised her head and her eyes were bright with unshed tears, her bottom lip quivering.

Alex clenched his fist against the urge to pull her into his arms and tell her all was forgiven, but that wouldn’t solve this problem. She needed to admit to what she had done.

“Why did you throw the eraser and call Mrs. Overland names, Jasmine?”

“I don’t know,” came a tremulous reply.

“You know it was wrong, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“So, why did you do it?” he asked again.

Another shrug and a huge snuffle, followed by a single tear that trailed down her cheek and landed on the edge of her plate.

He couldn’t do this. One of the hardest things for him to endure was seeing his little girl cry, and he could not stomach being the cause of her tears.

“Come here, baby.” Alex pushed back from the table and held out his hand. Jasmine leaped out of her chair and onto his lap.

He knew he would have to get to the root of her discipline problem soon, but Alex wasn’t up for that discussion today. She’d admitted the name calling was wrong. That was a start.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” came her soft, muffled voice.

“I know, baby,” Alex answered. He wrapped his good arm around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I know.”

Alex pulled up to the curb at the address Renee had written on the pamphlet and shifted his truck into park. He was finally getting the hang of one handed driving. He walked up the cemented walkway that led to a classic Creole style cottage with a wide wraparound porch. Even though the house was on pillars, the faint water line that still rimmed the exterior siding suggested the house had taken in a good four feet of water. The homes in this neighborhood had remained submerged in floodwaters for nearly two weeks after Hurricane Katrina. Whatever the actual water had not destroyed had probably been ruined by toxic mold.

Alex spotted the small pop up camper off to the side. The trailers issued to residents by the Federal Emergency Management Agency had become a part of the landscape of post Katrina New Orleans.

He climbed the steps of the house, noting the superior workmanship. He tried the doorknob, but it wouldn’t
budge. He walked along the wraparound porch to the side door, taking in the warped wooden boards under his feet. If these bloated floorboards were any indication of what he’d find inside the house, Alex figured they were looking at total demolition and rebuild. Sometimes, it was easier to just bring in a wrecking ball and start out with a clean slate.

Alex jiggled the handle to the side door, but it, too, was locked. He walked back around to the front of the house. The car Renee had gotten into earlier that week when he’d accompanied her to the parking lot at St. Katherine’s was parked next to the FEMA trailer.

Alex walked over to the trailer and up the three wooden steps. He knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again.

He tried the handle on the trailer and was surprised and a little confused when it turned. Did she say the trailer would be open and not the house? Maybe he’d misheard her instructions.

Alex pushed the door open and felt his stomach drop as a glisteningly naked Renee screamed at him to get out.

For several interminable moments, Alex was rooted where he stood, incapable of doing anything but stare at the amazing body that was quickly being wrapped into a towel. In that millisecond he noticed high, firm breasts, a small waist, curvy hips, and deliciously smooth, toned thighs.

“Get. Out!” she screamed.

Alex snapped to attention, his brain registering where he was and what he was doing. He shut the door and clumsily made his way down the steps. Leaning against the outside of the trailer, Alex took several deep breaths. This was bad. Really bad. Should he go back and apologize? Should he just leave?

He’d embarrassed the hell out of himself, and would be lucky if Renee didn’t come running out of the trailer wielding a butcher knife.

He should definitely leave.

Yet what he really wanted to do was break the door off that trailer and get another eyeful of the heavenly, dripping wet creature standing just on the other side of it. She could not have been as perfect as she had appeared. But it was his shoulder that was banged up; not a damn thing was wrong with his eyes.

The door to the trailer opened, and Renee stepped out wrapped in a yellow bathrobe. Alex had a feeling he was more the cause of the red tinge to her cheeks than the shower she had apparently taken minutes before he barged in on her. He could
not
believe he’d just done that.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said. Because, really, what else did you say after walking in on a woman when she was naked?

Renee held up her hand. “Let’s put the awkwardness behind us right now. We’ll just pretend you didn’t see anything, even though I know you did.”

“Yeah, I did,” Alex admitted. He was sure he would see her in his dreams every night for at least the next year, if not forever.

“Okay, stop staring at my chest,” she said, and pulled the collar of the robe tighter.

Alex knew he was staring. He knew it was rude. He knew it only added to both their embarrassment.

But he could
not
stop.

“Alex!” she said, her voice hitting a new level of agitation.

“What?” Alex looked up into a face that was seriously pissed off. “I’m sorry,” he said again. He needed to pull his head together and stop thinking about what was underneath that robe.

“I’m assuming you needed something,” Renee said. She clenched the bathrobe so tight at her throat her knuckles were white.

“Uh, yeah,” Alex answered. “I need to get into the house.”

“The door should be open.”

“That’s what I thought you’d said, but it’s not. I tried both the front and side doors; they’re locked.”

She blew out an aggravated breath. “Aunt Lorna was supposed to unlock the house. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Alex said, for what, the third time?

It was those FEMA trailers. If they were equipped with bigger bathrooms, she would have been in there instead of drying off in the middle of her kitchen/living room/second bedroom.

“It was a mistake,” Renee said. “Stop apologizing.”

“Do you have a key for the house?” Alex asked, anxious to think of anything else but her body.

“Give me a minute.” She stepped back into the camper and, seconds later, returned with a single key on a plain metal key ring. “This is for the side door.”

Alex took the key from her outstretched fingers and had to swallow back the groan that nearly escaped his throat when their fingers touched.

“I’ll, uh, get to work,” he said.

This bordered on ridiculous. He was as aroused as a teenager who had just discovered girls. Although, after six years without a woman, what did he expect? He was impressed as hell that he’d refrained from dropping to his knees and begging Renee Moore to get naked for him again.

“Let me get dressed. I’ll show you what the other contractor
didn’t
do before he skipped town with Aunt Lorna’s money.”

“Okay,” Alex answered, and quickly headed for the safety of the dilapidated house. He was way more at ease surrounded by lumber and insulation than a nearly naked woman. It hadn’t always been that way, but life had a funny way of changing on you.

Alex entered the house, the stale, mildew stench assaulting him as soon as he opened the side door. He hadn’t even thought to bring a mask when he’d left the house. He might have one in the glove compartment in the truck, but Alex figured his cursory inspection of the partially gutted
home wouldn’t take long to complete. The proverbial writing was on the torn down walls.

He pulled the memo tablet out of his back pocket, along with the short, stubby carpenter’s pencil he’d lifted from his desk before he left home. Being left handed, Alex was grateful that beam had fallen on his right shoulder. This way, at least he wasn’t completely useless.

He slowly made his way around the hollowed house. Some of the walls had been torn down to the studs, but much of the mold ridden Sheetrock remained. Patches of black and green mold dotted the ceiling tiles.

Alex turned at the sound of the door opening. He spotted Renee entering the side door with a hospital mask covering half her face, and another dangling from her hand. She was also fully clothed in a dress that was pretty inappropriate given all the dust on the construction site.

“I forgot to tell you that you’d need a mask,” she said, handing him the mask she carried.

Alex put it over his nose. He tried to bring the elastic bands around his head with his good arm, and nearly dropped it.

“Bend your head,” Renee said, plucking the mask from his fingers and fitting it around his head. As he leaned over, his face was just inches from the exposed cleavage beautifully displayed by the V-neck collar of her wraparound dress. Alex was convinced his weakened knees would give out in the next sixty seconds.

The deep pink dress clung to her subtle curves. She wasn’t nearly as voluptuous as Chantal had been, but that was a good thing. Alex had a particular repulsion for women who even slightly resembled his late wife.

Renee was Chantal’s complete opposite. Where Chantal had been vanilla light, Renee’s skin tone was a rich walnut brown. She had deep brown eyes, and wore her hair straight, just past her chin, unlike Chantal’s long, bouncy curls.

“What do you think?” Renee asked. It took Alex a moment to realize she was talking about the house and not the way she looked in that dress. Replying that it was a nice view would definitely have gotten him slapped.

It
was
a nice view, though.

“It looks like the contractor only got through half the demolition,” Alex answered. “And he wasn’t very thorough.” He pointed to the patches of dirty pink insulation still attached to some of the studs. “How much did your aunt pay him?” Alex asked, moving toward the back of the house to inspect the sturdiness of the remaining studs there.

“Forty thousand,” Renee answered.

Alex whipped around. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I were,” she answered. “He gave her an estimate of eighty five thousand for both demo and construction, but told her she had to pay half as a down payment before he could start working. She emptied her savings.”

Her aunt had been ripped off, big time. “Let me guess,” Alex said. “Verbal contract?”

Renee nodded.

That money was gone.