Games of the Heart
Page 18
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Then her amusement faded, her eyes grew intense and she pressed closer, getting up on her toes, her arms around his shoulders going tighter.
“Sucks,” she whispered. “Totally. Thought it sucked before because I want to be with my family. Totally sucks now.”
He knew what she was talking about. She’d told him she had to get home because there was some gallery showing of her work in Austin next week. She was still preparing. Darrin’s death, as deaths always did, came at a shit time.
He bent his head and touched his lips to hers, saying after he lifted away, “Go and be with your family.”
She nodded.
“Text me or phone me,” he ordered.
She nodded again.
“Now kiss me,” he finished, her eyes flared in that way he liked so f**king much, she pressed deeper and did as she was told.
He took over, lost control and they went at it like teenagers, out in the cold, Mike pressing a beautiful woman against the side of a rental car in the parking lot of a hotel in his hometown.
Then he tore his mouth away, kissed her forehead, opened her door, deposited her ass in the driver’s seat and stood, arms crossed on his chest, eyes glued to her car watching her hand moving from between the seats in a wave as she drove away.
He did this grinning.
*
Debbie Holliday sat in her rental car staring at the couple who had been standing in each other’s arms talking then the woman was laughing then they were making out.
As in making out.
In other words, going…fucking…at it.
Her sister and her ex-fucking-boyfriend.
“Seriously?” she asked the interior of her car, her voice vibrating with fury. “Seriously?” she hissed.
She’d come by before her conference call to make peace. Her mother had spilled last night that Dusty was in town. She knew this because Mike already told her. She didn’t know the whole f**king family knew all about it.
Right after her mother told her, her father gave her a lecture that he’d lost a son, his wife had too and both his girls had lost their brother. They didn’t need discord. They needed harmony.
It sucked but Dad was right. So Debbie bit the bullet and decided, unlike her little f**king sister who’d holed up in a hotel room and hidden, to do the right thing. Olive branch. Make peace. Give Mom, Dad, f**king Rhonda (who wouldn’t even know, she spent so much time sniveling) and the boys time with all the family together.
And doing the right thing, this was what she got.
Darrin was dead and somehow her little f**king sister was banging her ex-boyfriend and standing out in the parking lot f**king laughing.
Debbie hated it that all her life, even when Dusty went off the rails and exposed the bitch within, that her Mom sang her sister’s praises. “Look at this,” she’d crow, pointing at some bullshit Dusty had scribbled with a crayon like it was Picasso who had held that freaking crayon. “Listen to her, she sounds like an angel,” Mom would whisper reverently anytime Dusty had a solo in church or at the high school.
And Debbie hated it that all her life her Dad would grouse good-naturedly, “My Dusty-girl, such a rascal,” when Dusty would do something sassy or be what everyone but Debbie thought was adorably mouthy. And she hated it when Dad took Dusty and Darrin out to walk through the rows of corn and share his farmer wisdom. “My boy will carry the legacy, but even if he doesn’t, my girl will,” he’d boasted only for Dusty to take off like a shot after high school, proving him wrong. Did he care? No. Instead, years later, he’d brag about her f**king pottery like she didn’t make big, over-priced plates but like she cured f**king cancer.
Did either of them brag about the fact that Debbie made six figures, won the DC Woman in Law award twice and was asked to lecture all over the f**king country? No. All she got from Mom was, “Uh…honey, are you sure he didn’t do it?” when she’d defended that (alleged) ra**st who was all over the papers. Admittedly, she had serious suspicions he did do it but she couldn’t share that and it didn’t matter anyway. All she could say was, “Everyone’s entitled to a defense, Mom.” To which her mother mumbled, “All right, Debbie.” And to which her father, much later when they were all in The ‘Burg visiting, said under his breath when he thought she couldn’t hear, “Yeah, entitled as long as they can pay the bills and that guy was a millionaire who thought his shit didn’t stink and he could do anything. Guess Debbie proved that right.” This after they’d talked, or she did, since Darrin, Rhonda, Dad and Mom didn’t say a word, about how she got him off.
And Debbie hated it all her life that Darrin took Dusty’s side all the time. “She’s our little sis, Deb, we gotta look out for her,” Darrin would say but he was full of shit. He, just like everybody, thought the sun shone out of Dusty’s ass. They grew older, Debbie had to watch as her brother and sister grew even tighter. She knew Darrin and Dusty talked all the time. She knew his kids preferred their Aunt Dusty’s presents and her company. She knew that half the times Darrin called Dusty or Dusty called Darrin, Rhonda would get on the phone and jabber Dusty’s ear off about some stupid f**king shit.
It didn’t occur to Debbie that Darrin had tried the same with her the minute she went to Notre Dame and kept trying it even through law school. It didn’t occur to her that she blew him off because she was busy studying or she had better shit to do so he stopped.
All she knew was Dusty and Darrin Holliday were closer than close, tighter than tight and that just grew deeper as they grew older and, as ever, Debbie had no part of it.
Staring at Mike staring after Dusty’s car driving away, Debbie Holliday decided this was it. She was done. This was the end.
Because f**king Dusty had pulled her bullshit antics over two f**king decades before, cozying up to Mike, getting in his face, getting in both their space and Mike was a good guy. But Debbie knew he wasn’t putting up with her little sister because he was a good guy. He was putting up with her sister because, just like everybody, he fell for her shit.
And Debbie hated it way back when and, seeing what she’d just seen, she seriously f**king hated it now.
Debbie Holliday wasn’t stupid. She knew Mike Haines was the best thing she’d ever had. She knew it then and she gave it up because she wanted out of that nowhere town. But Mike made it clear, even back in high school, he was a small town guy, he was a hometown guy and he wasn’t going anywhere. So he broke it off and she let him, giving him up to get what she wanted.
“Sucks,” she whispered. “Totally. Thought it sucked before because I want to be with my family. Totally sucks now.”
He knew what she was talking about. She’d told him she had to get home because there was some gallery showing of her work in Austin next week. She was still preparing. Darrin’s death, as deaths always did, came at a shit time.
He bent his head and touched his lips to hers, saying after he lifted away, “Go and be with your family.”
She nodded.
“Text me or phone me,” he ordered.
She nodded again.
“Now kiss me,” he finished, her eyes flared in that way he liked so f**king much, she pressed deeper and did as she was told.
He took over, lost control and they went at it like teenagers, out in the cold, Mike pressing a beautiful woman against the side of a rental car in the parking lot of a hotel in his hometown.
Then he tore his mouth away, kissed her forehead, opened her door, deposited her ass in the driver’s seat and stood, arms crossed on his chest, eyes glued to her car watching her hand moving from between the seats in a wave as she drove away.
He did this grinning.
*
Debbie Holliday sat in her rental car staring at the couple who had been standing in each other’s arms talking then the woman was laughing then they were making out.
As in making out.
In other words, going…fucking…at it.
Her sister and her ex-fucking-boyfriend.
“Seriously?” she asked the interior of her car, her voice vibrating with fury. “Seriously?” she hissed.
She’d come by before her conference call to make peace. Her mother had spilled last night that Dusty was in town. She knew this because Mike already told her. She didn’t know the whole f**king family knew all about it.
Right after her mother told her, her father gave her a lecture that he’d lost a son, his wife had too and both his girls had lost their brother. They didn’t need discord. They needed harmony.
It sucked but Dad was right. So Debbie bit the bullet and decided, unlike her little f**king sister who’d holed up in a hotel room and hidden, to do the right thing. Olive branch. Make peace. Give Mom, Dad, f**king Rhonda (who wouldn’t even know, she spent so much time sniveling) and the boys time with all the family together.
And doing the right thing, this was what she got.
Darrin was dead and somehow her little f**king sister was banging her ex-boyfriend and standing out in the parking lot f**king laughing.
Debbie hated it that all her life, even when Dusty went off the rails and exposed the bitch within, that her Mom sang her sister’s praises. “Look at this,” she’d crow, pointing at some bullshit Dusty had scribbled with a crayon like it was Picasso who had held that freaking crayon. “Listen to her, she sounds like an angel,” Mom would whisper reverently anytime Dusty had a solo in church or at the high school.
And Debbie hated it that all her life her Dad would grouse good-naturedly, “My Dusty-girl, such a rascal,” when Dusty would do something sassy or be what everyone but Debbie thought was adorably mouthy. And she hated it when Dad took Dusty and Darrin out to walk through the rows of corn and share his farmer wisdom. “My boy will carry the legacy, but even if he doesn’t, my girl will,” he’d boasted only for Dusty to take off like a shot after high school, proving him wrong. Did he care? No. Instead, years later, he’d brag about her f**king pottery like she didn’t make big, over-priced plates but like she cured f**king cancer.
Did either of them brag about the fact that Debbie made six figures, won the DC Woman in Law award twice and was asked to lecture all over the f**king country? No. All she got from Mom was, “Uh…honey, are you sure he didn’t do it?” when she’d defended that (alleged) ra**st who was all over the papers. Admittedly, she had serious suspicions he did do it but she couldn’t share that and it didn’t matter anyway. All she could say was, “Everyone’s entitled to a defense, Mom.” To which her mother mumbled, “All right, Debbie.” And to which her father, much later when they were all in The ‘Burg visiting, said under his breath when he thought she couldn’t hear, “Yeah, entitled as long as they can pay the bills and that guy was a millionaire who thought his shit didn’t stink and he could do anything. Guess Debbie proved that right.” This after they’d talked, or she did, since Darrin, Rhonda, Dad and Mom didn’t say a word, about how she got him off.
And Debbie hated it all her life that Darrin took Dusty’s side all the time. “She’s our little sis, Deb, we gotta look out for her,” Darrin would say but he was full of shit. He, just like everybody, thought the sun shone out of Dusty’s ass. They grew older, Debbie had to watch as her brother and sister grew even tighter. She knew Darrin and Dusty talked all the time. She knew his kids preferred their Aunt Dusty’s presents and her company. She knew that half the times Darrin called Dusty or Dusty called Darrin, Rhonda would get on the phone and jabber Dusty’s ear off about some stupid f**king shit.
It didn’t occur to Debbie that Darrin had tried the same with her the minute she went to Notre Dame and kept trying it even through law school. It didn’t occur to her that she blew him off because she was busy studying or she had better shit to do so he stopped.
All she knew was Dusty and Darrin Holliday were closer than close, tighter than tight and that just grew deeper as they grew older and, as ever, Debbie had no part of it.
Staring at Mike staring after Dusty’s car driving away, Debbie Holliday decided this was it. She was done. This was the end.
Because f**king Dusty had pulled her bullshit antics over two f**king decades before, cozying up to Mike, getting in his face, getting in both their space and Mike was a good guy. But Debbie knew he wasn’t putting up with her little sister because he was a good guy. He was putting up with her sister because, just like everybody, he fell for her shit.
And Debbie hated it way back when and, seeing what she’d just seen, she seriously f**king hated it now.
Debbie Holliday wasn’t stupid. She knew Mike Haines was the best thing she’d ever had. She knew it then and she gave it up because she wanted out of that nowhere town. But Mike made it clear, even back in high school, he was a small town guy, he was a hometown guy and he wasn’t going anywhere. So he broke it off and she let him, giving him up to get what she wanted.
