One Reckless Summer Page 20

  That’s when she heard him say, “Then I reckon I’ll drive out to the Brody place one more time—and I’d better take off soon if I want to make it back in time for the fireworks.”

  Her heart nearly stopped. And despite the punishing heat of late afternoon, a cold chill raced up her spine. She couldn’t have heard that correctly.

  But she knew she had. Oh God. Oh God, what was going on here?

  As soon as Mike walked away, she stepped up close, closing her hand tight over her father’s arm. “Why would you drive out to the Brody place?” she asked pointedly.

  He looked shocked at her tone and she realized her emotions had gotten the best of her. Okay, calm down here. She took a deep breath. If you want to keep Mick safe, you have to play it cool.

  “Today of all days,” she added, as if that was part of her concern. “I mean, it’s the Fourth of July. And you love Betty and Ed’s party—you look forward to it all summer. So why would you leave in the middle of it?”

  He covered her hand with his own, patting it. “Relax, Jennygirl. I’ll be back for fireworks, and it’ll likely be a wasted trip anyway.”

  She tried to breathe normally, though it was difficult. “But…why would you go there?”

  At this, her father looked around to make sure they were alone, then lowered his voice. “Well, don’t let this get around—we don’t need folks scared and I’m sure it’s nothin’ to worry about—but…Wayne Brody broke out of prison a while back. The state authorities called me, seein’s as Destiny was his last address, and I drove out there then, a couple of days after the escape, but the old place was quiet and untouched.”

  She figured that simply meant her dad had gotten there before Wayne or Mick had, thank goodness. “So why go again?”

  “Well, he hasn’t been caught yet, and the prison folks say he’s sick, so they don’t think he could’ve gotten far—they think he has to be holed up someplace. Then, just this mornin’, Willie Hargis, who lives out on the highway close to the turnoff leadin’ back to that side of the lake, mentioned to Mike that he’s seen a pickup head back there a couple times lately. He assumed it was hunters, but I figure I should check it out.”

  “Does it have to be now? Today?” If she could get her father to wait, even just overnight, she could canoe across the lake and warn Mick. She didn’t know if that would give him time to clear out completely, or if Wayne could even travel, but it would be better than nothing.

  “Well, way I figure it, it does,” her father said, crushing her hopes. “Never pays to wait with the law—I’d feel pretty foolish to get out there tomorrow and find out I’d just missed him.” Her father narrowed his gaze on her then. “Somethin’ eatin’ you, Jennygirl? What’s wrong?”

  Jenny’s heart beat nearly as hard as it had the night she’d first encountered Mick in the woods. “Nothing,” she said, but knew she’d hesitated too long and probably sounded nervous.

  “Don’t sound like nothin’.”

  She sighed, feeling desperate, and not quite able to think straight. Oh God, Oh God, what should she do? Finally, she shook her head. “Everything’s fine, Dad.”

  He gave her a long look, clearly trying to decide if he should believe her or not, then eventually said, “Well, all right then. I’m gonna head out there now. If anybody notices I’m gone, you tell ’em I’ll be back by sundown and not to start those fireworks without me.”

  And then he started to walk away. And Jenny knew she couldn’t let him. She just couldn’t. She didn’t know how the hell she was going to stop him, but she had to do something. So she followed quickly after him, then reached out and grabbed back onto his arm again, drawing him to a halt. “Wait.”

  Her dad looked quizzically over his shoulder. “What is it, Jenny?”

  She felt like she would faint from the heat, like her legs were about to collapse beneath her. Her mind raced, but she could only think of one chance to save Mick and his brother.

  “Well?” her father asked. “What’s goin’ on here? What aren’t you tellin’ me?”

  She tried to form a plan, find words. Her skin prickled with uneasiness. Was she doing the right thing? Was she? But what else could she do? “Could we…go sit in your cruiser and talk? I’m feeling a little faint and could use some A/C.”

  Looking understandably confused, he said, “All right.” Then he pressed a steadying hand to her back to guide her to the car, parked amid twenty or thirty others in a grassy area near the road.

  Jenny tried to think as they walked, but nothing brilliant or new came to her. And once they were in the car, with the A/C blasting, her father said, “All right now, honey, what’s this all about? What’s wrong?”

  She glanced up at him, but realized it was easier to look at the car’s dashboard as they talked. Oh God, please let this be the right thing to do. “I…have something to tell you, Dad. But before I do, I need you to make me a promise.” Her voice sounded unsteady to her own ears, and despite the cool air blowing across her face and neck, she still felt woozy, almost sick.

  “What kinda promise?” he asked, his tone conveying that he suddenly realized this was something big.

  She tried to swallow back the lump in her throat. How could this be happening? “I need you to promise me…to swear to me…that if you love me, you won’t…act…on what I’m about to tell you.”

  He sat stunned for a moment, silent, but finally replied. “What on earth’s goin’ on here, Jenny?”

  She had to stay strong, to insist. “Promise me,” she said. “Promise me that if I tell you a secret, you won’t act on it. Promise me that, for me, you’ll pretend you don’t know.” Her heart felt like it was about to pound through her rib cage.

  “This sounds serious,” he said. “So how can I do that?”

  She took a breath and forced herself to meet his gaze. “You just do it,” she told him. “You just love me enough to do it.”

  When he sat there a minute longer, still quiet, she went on. “This is important to me, Dad—so important. Otherwise, I would never ask you to…to look the other way about something. But I know I’m right about this, so that’s why I’m asking.”

  She knew she’d completely confused him when he said, “Are you in some kinda trouble?”

  “No, it’s not me,” she snapped. “Now just promise me! Please!”

  She’d raised her voice and knew it had shocked them both. Jenny had never yelled at her father in her life.

  But apparently she’d picked a good time to do it, because it made him say, “Okay, Jenny, I promise. Calm down.”

  She drew in her breath, tried to relax. This is awful, so awful. “So I have your word that you won’t act on what I tell you?”

  “All right, yes—you have my word.”

  Okay. Good. Thank God. And now…she would have to break her father’s heart.

  She swallowed again, then began. “I’ve been…seeing someone—a man,” she clarified, “since I got home.”

  Shock washed over her father’s face, and she thought—oh Daddy, you ain’t heard nothin’ yet. But she had to press on. “I…canoed across the lake one night, because there’s a rocky place up on the hill that’s perfect for stargazing.”

  “How on earth did you know that?”

  “Sue Ann and I used to sneak across to it when we were teenagers.”

  When he looked horrified, she said quickly, “Don’t worry, that’s the worst thing I ever did.” Until now.

  “Go on,” he said.

  She took another deep breath and hoped he wouldn’t interrupt her so she could get this all out. “When I went across, I ran into…Mick Brody. And we started, um, seeing each other.” Rutting like animals. “And…he’s not as bad as you think, Dad, I promise. He’s actually…a pretty good guy. But the thing is…”

  “Yeah?” Maybe her dad could hear it coming. She tried to ignore how upset he already sounded.

  Just spit it out. “The thing is, Wayne is there. But he’s dying, Dad. He has a brain tumor a
nd leukemia—Mick said he won’t last the summer. He only escaped because he didn’t want to die in prison—he wanted to die at home. He asked Mick to take care of him until then.”

  When her father said nothing for a long moment, when the only sounds in the car were the whoosh of the A/C and the static of the police radio, she finally found the strength to look at him. And—oh God. She’d never felt so…disappointing. He stared at her like she was a stranger. She had to close her eyes a moment to block out the expression on his face.

  “I’ll honor my promise to you,” he finally said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, “but I can’t understand why, how, you could keep somethin’ like this from me.” Then he shook his head, as if in disbelief. “My Jenny…with Mick Brody?” he muttered.

  It was all she could do to hold back tears—but she had to be tough here, the tough new her.

  And so she was. “If you knew him, you’d see he’s not a bad person. And keeping it from you was really hard for me, but the reason I did was because, in my heart, I don’t feel that Mick is doing anything wrong.”

  “You don’t feel he’s doin’ anything wrong?” he yelled. “He’s breakin’ the law! They both are! How can that not be wrong? I thought I’d taught you better.”

  Jenny recoiled slightly at the outburst—but kept sticking up for herself. “You did teach me about right and wrong. But maybe I believe that right and wrong come in shades of gray.”

  Her father shook his head. “I’ve never seen shades of gray with the law.”

  “Well, that’s because you’re a cop and it’s your job to uphold it. But that doesn’t mean every law is right, and maybe being a cop makes you…narrow-minded. Because there are shades of gray, and arresting Mick and his brother would serve no purpose. He’s just helping his brother die in peace, at home.”

  When he didn’t answer, she added, quietly, “This whole thing has forced me to look at right and wrong in a whole new perspective. And what I’ve learned is that…maybe sometimes…doing the wrong thing…is the right thing to do.”

  Jenny sat by herself on a tablecloth spread on the ground in Ed and Betty’s meadow watching neon bursts of red, white, and blue explode in the sky above her. She’d planned to share the spot with her father, but she’d last seen him talking with Ed and seeming grouchy. Understandably, she supposed.

  All that matters is that he didn’t go out to Mick’s place. He’d made up some excuse to Mike Romo. All that matters is that he promised to keep the same secret she was keeping, and even if he wasn’t happy about it, Walter Tolliver never broke his word.

  But she still couldn’t believe it had happened. She’d come here in such a good mood, too. Now, she’d been forced to tell her father something that had changed his whole opinion of her, for the worse, all for Mick Brody.

  Why? She had to ask herself. Why would you sacrifice your relationship with your father for Mick Brody?

  As the fireworks continued, she began to tick off reasons.

  From the beginning, she just hadn’t felt Mick’s actions were wrong.

  And…maybe this was just part of the process she was going through right now, part of learning to really be an adult, to take control of her life. Maybe being honest with her dad was a necessary step in that direction.

  Or maybe you’re falling in love with him.

  She gasped. Where the hell had that come from? Because she was not in love with Mick Brody. She couldn’t be. It was unthinkable. They were…so different. Like night and day. Black and white.

  But hadn’t she just told herself there were shades of gray everywhere?

  She shook her head to clear away the confusion. None of that mattered—what mattered was that this was only an affair—not love. It had to be. Because she was just getting over Terrence and this was rebound sex. Because the very idea of “an affair” had made her feel so good, so strong inside, so…woman-hear-me-roar, just like Sue Ann had said.

  But when you feared your dad would find out Mick’s secret, you nearly crumbled. It felt like your world was dissolving, not Mick’s. It felt like, if something bad happened to him, you’d fall apart.

  She let out a sigh. That didn’t sound much like an affair. Just like Sue Ann had also said.

  But the very idea of loving Mick Brody made her feel…helpless inside. Like a vulnerable little girl. And she wasn’t going to be that anymore—she just wasn’t.

  So this wasn’t love. This was hot sex. Some summer companionship, that was all.

  “What’s up, Tolliver? You look like you lost your best friend.”

  She looked up to see Sue Ann, who now settled next to her on the cloth in a pretty summer skirt and red strappy top. She reached out and held on to Sue Ann’s hand—tight. “No—thank God I still have you.”

  “What’s that mean?” Sue Ann clearly, suddenly, grasped the magnitude of the situation.

  Jenny looked at her friend beneath the lit-up sky and knew it must show in her eyes, but she had to say it anyway. “I had to tell my dad. He heard about Wayne’s breakout and was going to drive out there. He’s not going to now, but…I think he hates me.”

  Sue Ann’s face fell. “Oh Jen,” she said, “come here,” then pulled Jenny into a hug.

  “Worse yet,” Jenny admitted, still in the embrace, “I’ve got this crazy fear in my head right now. I’m afraid…oh God…that I might actually be in love.”

  “Yeah, that’s a newsflash—not,” Sue Ann said, then patted her back and hugged her some more.

  When Mick came in the back door a few nights later, Jenny’s heart was in her throat. Her father had kept his promise, as she knew he would, because Walter Tolliver was a man of his word. But it still felt strange to see Mick for the first time after telling her father his secret.

  Her thoughts shifted, though, when she realized he was carrying a long, narrow cylinder of cardboard. She pointed. “What’s that?”

  Glancing down at it, he looked…surprisingly sheepish. “Uh…nothing important. Just…something I thought you might like.”

  She narrowed her gaze on him slightly. Was she losing her mind or had Mick Brody actually brought her a present? She bit her lip to try to hold back her smile, but it didn’t work very well. “So what is it?”

  He held it out to her. “Here. But if you don’t like it, that’s okay. It’s no big deal.”

  In fact, she was a little nervous opening it. What on earth would Mick give her as a gift? She couldn’t imagine. What if she didn’t like it? Could she fake a reaction?

  But when she took the cap off one end and pulled out a poster of some sort, she unrolled it to see—oh wow, a print of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. She gasped.

  “For the wall,” he said. “That spot looks pretty blank now.”

  “It’s…amazing, Mick,” she said, still studying Van Gogh’s swirling blue-and-yellow impression of the night sky.

  “Not that amazing,” he said, trying to play it off as nothing. “I was just over in Crestview, doing laundry, and I walked past a shop window and saw this. You’ll have to get a frame—I wasn’t sure I could get one over here in the rowboat without dinging it, so I just got the print.”

  “I can’t wait to hang it,” she said, her heart near to bursting. “It’s really perfect for the spot, and I love it. Thank you.”

  He started seeming more like his usual self then, taking the print from her hand, setting it aside on the coffee table, and saying, “Come here, pussycat,” as he drew her into his arms.

  She lifted her mouth to his for a warm, sweet kiss, and he said, “I didn’t come all the way over here just to give you a picture of the sky, though.”

  “No?” she asked playfully.

  “I mainly came to give you this.” Then he pulled her body tight to his to let her feel the hard erection pressing at the crux of her thighs.

  “Mmm, that’s perfect, too,” she promised him.

  “Now that I’m not gonna argue with,” he said with a sexy, arrogant glint in his eye that made her lau
gh softly even as she pooled with moisture below.

  “Wanna go upstairs?” she asked. Because she could do that now. She was bold, aggressive Jenny now.

  Once there, they undressed each other, and he pulled her on top of him and made her come. Then he kissed her between her legs and made her come again. After that, he entered her from behind while they lay on their sides, and he reached around to touch her until she came—wow—a third time! And by the time she reached her third orgasm, Jenny was pretty sure she’d died and gone to heaven—and yet, somehow, the best part for her was when Mick climaxed: listening to his groans, his sweet whispers, and knowing she’d taken him there.

  As they lay snuggling afterward, she whispered to him, “How’s Wayne?” She’d decided it would be crazy to tell him her father knew—knowing her dad would honor his word, she saw no reason to upset or worry Mick. He had enough to deal with already.

  “He’s…weaker lately,” he replied.

  “Is there anything I can do to help? I’d be happy to come over and cook, clean, take care of Wayne—whatever you need.” She’d never asked before, not wanting to intrude, but she was “good Jenny,” after all—she could only resist offering for so long.

  “That’s sweet,” he said, “but no.” Then shook his head softly. “Taking care of somebody who’s dying is kind of…”

  “Intimate?” she suggested after he trailed off.

  “Yeah, maybe. But not intimate like this,” he said, looking down at them, naked except for the covers. “I just…think it would be hard for Wayne to have anybody besides me seeing him the way he is right now.”

  She nodded. “I understand.” Her mother had grown selective toward the end of her life, too, about who came into her room. She’d want to be remembered living, not dying.

  “But when he’s awake,” Mick went on quietly, “we’ve been…talking. A lot. About old times—and other things, too. It’s kinda nice.”

  They lay quietly then, Jenny thinking Mick had sounded more at peace just now than she’d ever heard him. But it also managed to remind her how not at peace she and her dad remained. She hated that she’d upset him. She hated that he truly saw her in a different light now. She hated that any of it was necessary. Yet it was. They hadn’t spoken since the fireworks and it made her extra glad to see Mick tonight, to be close to him, to remind her why she’d done it.