Games of the Heart
Page 65

Mike and his partner Merry, obviously, were working that case.
And last, Mike explained, there had been an influx of narcotics that had hit The ‘Burg. Drugs were not unusual but supply was escalating.
All the detectives were working this one and had been now for eighteen months. They’d located and brought down two new dealers that moved to town and targeted vulnerable populations, young adults who’d not gone off to college and stuck in town and high school students.
The ‘Burg had a diverse population. Although the farm families were retreating, it still had its working class. It also had its lower to low-middle income sections. The same with mid-to upper-middle incomes. And with The Heritage and other high end developments, as well as The ‘Burg’s traditional elite of wealthy families who worked in Indy but settled generations ago in a quaint farm town close to work but away from the city, this meant there was definitely an upper class.
The kids of these families and young adults, who suddenly had incomes and responsibilities but didn’t yet know how manage them, were who was targeted.
When they’d find a dealer and take him down, a new one would take his place and the drugs kept coming. So they’d switched strategies, identifying the dealer, controlling the sales but at the buyer, not at the source and hoping this would lead to the mastermind.
Unfortunately, this was also not working. The mastermind had lost two of his soldiers. They were being more careful. And although the drugs were just as prevalent regardless of the police presence, how the kids were getting them was harder to nail down since the dealers were forced to be creative.
This all meant that even though The ‘Burg was not a thriving metropolis, the cops were far busier than I would have expected.
Including Mike.
As for me, I was in Indiana but I had pottery to sell because I had bills to pay. So I also had to work and, as usual, spent a good deal of time at my wheel.
Intermingled with this, I was trying to sort Rhonda out.
This just wasn’t working.
I’d sat down with her twice to talk to her about the boys, her future, the farm. But even as I spoke to her at the kitchen table over coffee, her eyes, along with her attention, drifted away.
I didn’t know if this was a defense mechanism against grief, not wanting to think of these things because Darrin used to take care of them or if it was just Rhonda.
Luckily, I was a patient person. Unfortunately, she was giving no indication that even the smallest thing was sinking in. Not only was I working, exploring my relationship with Mike, getting to know his kids, I’d also taken on parenting Fin and Kirb. They didn’t need a lot but they still needed it and at this time in their lives this mostly took the form of someone having a finger on their pulse and looking out for them considering their Dad just died. And I did this by spending time with them, mostly at night in front of the TV. And all of these nights, Rhonda wandered upstairs and stayed in the room she shared with my brother, leaving me and her boys be.
Rhonda fed them and, as a matter of course, took care of the house. But other than that, she was checked out and I got the impression she took the opportunity of my being there to check out further.
And with all that, I’d just hit what I’d been looking forward to as the highlight of my week. Mike told me the kids went from school on alternate Fridays to their Mom’s and didn’t return until Sunday at seven. He had the weekend off.
This meant Mike time.
And Mike had decreed we were going out on a date. This meant he picked me up at the farmhouse at five thirty, we had dinner out, we then had drinks at J&J’s. Then he took me to his house where, after a tour of it he didn’t need to give me that ended with his huge bedroom, I threw down the challenge, jumped him and we commenced wrestling.
Definitely the highlight of my day including having the time with just Mike to check out his house, something I hadn’t had the time to do with any concentration.
Outside, it didn’t look as big as it was. Inside, it was very spacious. Although he was right, the development was cookie-cutter, that didn’t mean it didn’t have personality. I knew from my visits home it had been around a while and thus people had the time to personalize their space, trees had grown taller, filled out. The complex had settled and it wasn’t there yet but it was becoming less of a development, more of a neighborhood. But inside, it was more. Mike was a bachelor who had restarted his life with two kids and he did it like he did everything. Thoughtfully.
His house wasn’t a pad. There were framed pictures of family around. The kids. Grandparents. Mike’s aunts, uncles and cousins. The furniture was comfortable and attractive. There were touches that were admittedly masculine, like prints on the wall and his crockery but they were there. There was a vast selection of DVDs and the kids’ rooms were full of stuff. All this made it not at all just a roof over their heads but a home.
I liked this. I liked that Mike was capable of providing it. I liked that Mike gave it to his kids. And, deep down amidst the hope that was budding in me, I liked the idea that this was part of my future.
I’d never lived in a cookie cutter development. After my angst in high school, I’d spent so much time reflecting on what I would do when I was free, when I was I didn’t dilly-dally doing it. I lived in a couple of places but found a home quickly. Then set about with no small amount of determination making my place in the world where I wanted to be. I found success, settled in and loved it.
But, as crazy as it sounded, I could see me in that huge bed in that huge room in that cookie-cutter development with Mike, his kids and his dog.
Definitely.
“I bought this house because of you.”
I blinked at Mike’s chest and lifted my head to look down at him.
His eyes tipped to me.
“What?” I whispered.
“Didn’t get it until just now, you in my tee, in my bed, my hand on your ass. Never thought that would happen. Never expected it to. Never actually thought I’d see you again, which, I have to admit, honey, all these years, I found upsetting. But I looked at a f**kload of houses when I was trying to find a place for me, No and Reesee that would feel like home. I didn’t like this one. I did like the view of your farm off my balcony. That made this one, unlike any of the others, feel more like home. And the reason it did was because seein’ that farm reminded me of you and that felt like home.”
I didn’t know what to do with that, not hearing it, not him being open enough to tell me.
Except to love every word.