T's Trial: A Bone Cold--Alive Novel (24 page)

Read T's Trial: A Bone Cold--Alive Novel Online

Authors: Kay Layton Sisk

Tags: #rock star, #redemption, #tornado, #rural life, #convience store, #musicians, #Texas, #addiction, #contemporary romance

“Lyla, stop worrying.” He gave her a quick smile. “Those seven years it’s been since you played hooky from the store all Sunday afternoon? Well, that’s a drop in the proverbial bucket since the time I’ve been as happy as I am now. And look at old Fletch!” They both stared at the beach. Fletch and Harrison were building a sand castle with plastic cup towers and aluminum can gauged moats. Shep was overseeing the project. “I would never have thought to see him doing that. The worst thing that’ll come of this time is his regret in never having children.” He turned back to her. “For me—my regret will come when I have to leave you.”

“I bet you say that to all your landladies.”

“Only the ones I love.” He caught his breath and closed his eyes. Where had the L-word come from? Was this a Freudian slip of the highest order? Lyla looked as startled as he felt, but Harrison cut off any reply she might have had. He jumped up and ran to the water’s edge, waving furiously in the direction on the other side of the houseboat.

“Here we are, Tib! Look, Mom, it’s Tib! He’s come to join us!”

“Oh?” The words escaped from T. “How come I doubt that?”

“More likely he’s playing Scrooge than fairy godmother.” Lyla seemed grateful for the distraction, waded ashore quickly, picking up a towel to dry herself off. Shep followed Harrison into the water, obliterating the sandcastle with his paws. T just stood where he was.

Fletch slowly rose from the sand. He didn’t see any reason to get excited. He’d found Harrison tolerable and a perfect excuse for watching the fireworks in the water between Lyla and T. He found himself approving. There was a tenderness to T he hadn’t known existed. Maybe this could work out after all. No, he chastened himself, something like this was not going to work out for T. And, tender or not, if it didn’t work for T, there’d be more hell to pay for BCA.

Tib let the patrol boat drift in. Harrison and T waded out to guide it. “Wanted to make sure you were okay with Bertie’s old boat.”

Good excuse, Fletch thought. Practical, logical, not showy, got the job done.

“We’re fine,” T answered. “Bertie says she’d occasionally turn it on and charge the battery. Thanks for coming to see about us, though.”

“Grandpa got your boat fixed, huh?” Harrison clamored aboard and looked around. “What was wrong with it anyway?”

“I don’t believe a proper excuse, pardon me, reason was given.”

Lyla crossed her arms and broadened her stance. Fletch had seen that body language before. It had never boded well for him with the wives. “Would you like to join us, Tib? There’s enough sandwiches and we’ll find a clean towel for you to sit on.”

“Mighty kind of you, Lyla, but I guess I’d better be on my way.” His words were as clipped as hers.

“We’ll push you off. Okay, Sam?” Harrison leaned his young back into the bow of the patrol boat and T joined him. It slipped easily back into the water. “Will you be over tonight, Tib?” the boy called after him.

“If I can,” he called back as he waved. They all returned the salute.

“I hate to break up a good party, guys, but I think it’s time for us to be going, too.” Lyla looked from one to the other, ending with Harrison. “School tomorrow, buddy. It’s already past six.”

He stuck his lower lip out. “Dumb old school.” He started toward the houseboat as his mother called him back and pointed to the towels and toys. Begrudgingly, he picked up his share and waded out.

“Party pooper,” T whispered to her as he closed the ice chest. “I wanted to stay longer, too.”

“Well, I’m tired. Two days of all this fun in the sun even with a sun-block of thirty and this old man’s feeling his age.” Fletch held the final load of stuff they’d dragged off the houseboat and onto the shore. “Are you sure there were just four of us?”

“Five,” Lyla answered as she helped Shep on board where he shook himself. “It’ll take you guys all of tomorrow to get this place shipshape again.”

“I wondered how I was going to spend my tomorrow.” Fletcher stopped momentarily. “Can we park this at your dock, Lyla? It’d be easier to clean up from there.”

“Sure.”

“Okay. We drop you off at the marina, you get the Jeep…” he continued into the bedroom, murmuring to himself while T and Lyla went on above.

T gathered his courage as they moved together to the steering. “I have better ideas on how to spend my tonight and my tomorrow and my tomorrow night and the next day and the next night,” he muttered where only she could hear. “And not by myself.” Would she reject him now that he’d let the word ‘love’ slip into their conversation?

She shucked the towel around her waist as she reached for a T-shirt and pair of shorts. “Need to borrow Shep for company? But I don’t think he’s very good at cleaning.” The lightness of her tone brought hope to him.

“Nooo.” He readjusted the sunglasses on his head, hoping his relief wasn’t written on his face. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Watching TV, putting a little boy to bed, the usual.”

“Maybe he could spend the night with Bertie?”

“Maybe one night. Later in the week.” She slipped on her boat shoes. “Maybe I need a little time to do some thinking.”

“You know where I am.”

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

A
ll seemed quiet enough when Lyla rounded the Jeep into the Quik-Lee parking lot. Murph’s car was parked in its usual place with Arial Palmer’s next to it. She was the blonder of the two girls, the one that had most often babysat with Harrison, and the one that must be currently racing Murph’s hormonal engine. He was most anxious to enlist her to help, although Lyla had never thought of them as even remotely suited to date. She decided on a surprise rear attack. She instructed Harrison to be quiet and they tip-toed in.

The two heads were together all right, but over the weekend’s worth of charge slips instead of any closer contact. Arial was exclaiming on the amount of gas bought and whatever kind of profit margin the Quik-Lee was bound to run. Murph was explaining all the ins and outs of the business like he owned the place. Lyla stood in the back doorway and casually knocked on the doorjamb. They jumped like they had their hands in the cookie jar and a quick check of the area under the counter found that to not be too far from the truth. It looked like the remains of a binge pile for a bulimic.

“Lyla!” Murph quickly stacked the charge slips. “Didn’t expect you so soon. We were just alphabetizing these for you.”

Arial sat very still on the counter stool. “Did you have a nice afternoon? Where’s Harrison?”

“I sent him on up. We had a lovely time.” She pushed herself away from the door. “Y’all been busy?” She took the slips from Murph and put them in the register drawer.

“Off and on. You know, typical stuff.” He looked at Arial. “You, ah, you need us to stay?” He shook his watch down. “It’s almost eight. Want to go on and close?”

“Why don’t you go on? Arial’ll stay and help me. I’ll show her in case she ever needs to close again.”

Murph wrinkled his brow, his reluctance to lose Arial Palmer’s company evident. “I can show her.”

“That’s okay, Murph,” Arial chimed in. “I need to see Harrison anyway. Since school started, I’m not sitting like I used to.”

Murph gathered his things and left, slamming the front door just a bit too hard.

“Oh, thank you, Lyla.” Arial’s motions were exaggerated. “He was about to bore me to death!”

“Murph’s a good boy.”

“That’s just it—he’s such a boy!”

Lyla hid her smile as she checked the cooler doors and started back to the front door. “He’s real disappointed he didn’t get to see you home.”

“Maybe Andi’ll take him.”

“Sloughing off on sister?” Lyla made tsk-ing noises as she locked the front door. “Did you sweep?” She kicked at the floor.

“Well, not really. I can do it now if you want.”

“I’ll take care of it in the morning. Just get up a little earlier.” She dug into the register and produced some currency. “Cash, okay?”

“Suits me.” Arial reached. “So tell me, Lyla, I know everyone says they’re gay, but isn’t he still sexy?”

“He’s very sexy, Arial. And much too old and world-weary for you.”

“Not that one, the young one!”

“Like I said.”

“Lyla, come on. Don’t you think he looks just like Eddie T?” She reached for a current tabloid and flipped through until she found what she wanted. “Well, this isn’t him, it’s his twin.” She turned it toward Lyla. There was Eddie C, naked to the waist except for a leather necklace, his face half-hidden behind small black sunglasses, leather pants so tight there was little doubt he still derived pleasure from the opposite sex, most notably the two that clung to him like vines.

“They’re both male. I think the resemblance ends there.”

“Well, it’s not a good picture.” She stuffed it back in the rack. “He was really turned on by your playing last week in church. You should have seen him.”

“I heard enough about it.” Lyla stood in the doorway to the storeroom. “Come on now, I’ve got to set the alarm. I’ll watch you get to your car.”

“Okay.” The girl found her shoulder bag under the counter and slouched out. She showed more interest in Murph than she did Lyla's explanation of the alarm system.

Lyla stood in the doorway and watched Arial round the corner, heard the door open, saw the lights come on. The engine cranked over once then gave up. The door opened, the lights went off and Arial walked back to Lyla. “It’s the starter. We’ve been having a problem.”

“Come on in and call your dad.”

“He’s on the road. Be back Wednesday.”

“Your mom?”

“She went with him. I mean, they get us up to eighteen and then they just desert us!”

“They’re supposed to stay home and twiddle their thumbs and wait for you to come in from dates and studying and working.”

“Why not?”

“Call Andi to come get you.”

“She moved into her dorm today. I knew I should have gone off instead of to the junior college.”

“So you were going to be by yourself?” Arial nodded. “Want to spend the night here?”

“Yes!” Her face lit up as she headed for the stairs. “I’ll call Uncle Andrew in the morning when his garage opens. I don’t want to bother him tonight!”

What you don’t want to do is spend the night by yourself in that big house, Lyla thought as she set the alarm, picked up the empty ice chest, and trudged up the stairs behind the girl. How convenient—an unexpected baby-sitter. A thought lolled around in her brain and planted itself firmly when she found Harrison already bathed and asleep on the couch.

“Arial?”

“Hmmm?” The girl was into the freezer, spoon in hand.

“I’m going to take a quick shower and then run an errand or two. You mind being an official baby-sitter?”

“No.” She contemplated her next statement while she swallowed the first mouthful of ice cream straight from the carton. “I’ll even sit for free.”

“Generous of you. Just let him sleep there, I’ll find a nightgown for you, and you can have his bed.”

“Okay.” She covered Harrison’s small form with a lightweight afghan and took the remote control from his hands. Shep squeezed between the two of them on the couch.

Lyla found a gown for Arial and put it on Harrison’s bed. For herself, she found a summer short denim wrap skirt and a peasant blouse, old, comfortable clothes. She washed her hair, took the shortest shower on record, put on the merest of makeup, a close to indecent amount of perfume, and slipped into her clothes and sandals. She towel dried her hair and decided the rest of it would be dry by the time she drove the Jeep to the house. Arial was into the popcorn when Lyla cleared the bathroom door.

“Oh, Tib called.” Her eyes never left the television screen.

Lyla stopped in her tracks. Damn! “What did he want?”

“Said he was sorry but he couldn’t make it over tonight. I told him okay. That all right?”

“Just fine.” She found her keys. “I may be late getting back.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Lyla took off down the stairs, made a quick stop in the store, and reset the alarm. She didn’t know what exactly she was going to do, but action was the only way to solve the emotions she felt between the two of them. For the first time in five years, Lyla looked her future in the face and took her fate in her own hands.

 

*  *  *

 

“You have email messages?”

Fletch was standing at the breakfast table, pushing arrow keys on the laptop. “That record company contracts jock and I are going a few rounds. Guess he didn’t have anything better to do on Sunday.”

“Unlike you?”

“You sure made a good pretense of having a fun time.” Fletch finally looked at him. “Just exactly what were you two discussing down the beach in shoulder deep water?”

“Philosophy.”

“Your grandmother might have believed that, but ol’ Fletch here has a hard time thinking you weren’t trying to—” he waved his hands.

“Get a life, Fletch. And a new imagination.” T went over to the washer, opened the lid, and started stripping. He felt his pockets. “Damn! Must have left my wallet on the boat.” He became even more exasperated. “Come on. Get out of those sandy, wet clothes before you track it all over the house.”

“You get too much sun, T? You a neatnik? Give me some credit. I was going to back off my objections, but hell, if she’s got you washing clothes already, I say, let’s have a double ring ceremony!”

T glared at him. He was naked now, throwing in the beach towels and holding out his arms for Fletch’s clothes. The older man obliged him, tossing them to him one by one. Sand flew all over the floor. T raised his eyebrows at the mess. “I’ll clean it up, T.” He closed the message file and started off to the shower. “Don’t start that thing until I’m bathed.”

“Don’t use all the hot water!” He dug a clean towel out of the dryer, which he wrapped around his middle. He emptied the ice chest and started to sweep when Fletch yelled down the hall that he was out. T acknowledged it with a nod and left the broom for Fletch to finish cleaning up his mess.

Fletch was halfway through the email from C when the doorbell rang. It was almost ten. Who called
here
at that hour? He tightened the belt of his robe and went to the door.

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