Stonehill series collect.., p.27
Stonehill Series Collection, page 27
“What happened?”
She lifted her gaze to him, and even more tears fell down her cheeks. “They’re getting married.”
The words stole his breath. For a moment he had a flash of standing on a beach, Michelle smiling up at him as she vowed to be his wife for the rest of their lives. But the memory faded quickly, and he was back in a café staring at Dianna. He pushed his plate away. “That was fast, huh? I mean, we’re not even legally divorced yet.”
“Neither are we.” She looked down at her wedding bands.
He looked at his as well, and he had to wonder why he was still wearing the gold band. It wasn’t like either of their spouses deserved the show of loyalty a wedding ring represented. But he hadn’t been able to remove his yet, and apparently neither had Dianna. At least not until this moment, when she tugged the bands off and tossed them aside.
“I thought you should know,” she said quietly.
“I guess we really didn’t mean that much to them after all, huh?”
He glanced up and immediately felt like a jackass for his comment. Her face scrunched and her lashes grew wet with tears as her lip quivered.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, Dianna. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s true.” She snatched up a napkin, dabbed at her eyes, and took a breath.
“But I shouldn’t have said it.”
“How could he just walk out of our marriage and into another one without a second thought? He couldn’t. Not if he cared. Not if he…” She gasped in a failed attempt to calm herself, and more tears fell down her face. “Not if he loved me. Even just a little bit.”
Grabbing her hand, now devoid of her wedding rings, Paul squeezed it tightly in his. She used the other hand to cover her face. Sliding from his booth and into hers, he ran his hand over her back and did his best to soothe her. After a minute, she sniffed and reached for another napkin.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was hoarse. “I thought I was done crying over this.”
“When did you find out?”
“This afternoon. He told the boys. Jason told me.”
“How are they handling it?”
“Better than me. I just don’t understand.” She lowered her head, and her long dark hair fell like a curtain, hiding her face from Paul.
He tucked the strands behind her ear. A tear had fallen down her nose and was on the verge of dripping from the tip. He used the knuckle of his pointer finger to wipe it away. “I don’t either. I don’t know what they wanted from us.”
She put her hand to her face to hide her emotions, but she didn’t seem to be able to control the ragged breaths she was taking. Paul didn’t know her, didn’t know a thing about her, but seeing her heart breaking in front of him was tearing him apart. He slid his arm around her and handed her more napkins.
“I’m sorry,” she said after several minutes.
“It’s okay.”
“No, I didn’t ask you here to dump on you like this.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t mind.” Oddly, he didn’t. Soothing her somehow kept him from thinking too much about how much this was hurting him. He’d loved Michelle—maybe too much, like she’d said, but he tended to be an all-in kind of guy, and just because she’d left didn’t mean he’d pulled his heart out of their marriage yet. Part of him, for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, kept expecting her to change her mind. Though, he was certain—or so he hoped—that he’d be too smart to take her back if she did. Michelle being engaged, however, seemed to be the slap in the face Paul had needed to accept that his marriage was indeed over.
Dianna finally glanced over at him. “I swear I don’t normally get hysterical in public. This is so embarrassing.”
“No, it’s not. You were just dealt a pretty hefty blow.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to survive this. It’s killing me.”
“You will survive. I’ll make sure of it.”
She flicked her gaze to him. “That’s very noble, Paul, but you have your own problems.”
He stared at her for a long time before he clutched her hand. “This is a tough time we’re going through, and we need all the help we can get. We’ll take turns being miserable, huh?”
She offered him a slight smile. “Well, I certainly took advantage of my turn today.”
“And I’m sure I’ll take advantage at some point, too.”
She took a deep breath and seemed to relax a bit. “I spent so much time falling apart, I didn’t even ask. How are you? I kind of dropped a bombshell on you.”
He lowered his face and exhaled slowly. “I’m not surprised, I guess. She’s not the type to take care of herself.”
“It still hurts.”
He nodded as he processed the knowledge that his wife was getting married. They were silent for some time before he pulled his hand from hers and lifted his cup to his lips. His arm was still around her as he sat silently, drinking his coffee.
She picked up her fork and took a bite of the brownie. “Maybe this will fill the black hole of agony I have inside, hmm?”
“If that doesn’t work, try brandy. It has amazing healing powers.”
“I’ll try that tonight when I should be baking pies and wrapping presents, but I can’t even…”
“What?”
Dianna sighed and put her fork down again. “Nothing.”
“Come on. Don’t shut down on me now. What were you going to say?”
“Our Thanksgiving tradition is to watch the parade, eat, and then we put up the tree and stuff it full of presents. By the time we go to bed Thanksgiving night, Christmas has taken over the entire house.”
“He may not be there, but your kids are. You can still do all that.”
She gnawed at her bottom lip as she nodded.
“That’s not it, is it?” he pressed. “There’s something else?”
Her cheeks flushed. “I, uh, I got a job after Mitch left, but…I can’t afford to stuff a tree full of presents this year. I can barely afford any presents this year.” An embarrassed-sounding laugh left her, and she shrugged. “They understand. They’re old enough to know about finances and all that, but it doesn’t make it any easier for me. I’ve always been able to provide for them. Well, Mitch has always been able to provide. I guess I never was.”
“You provided them with plenty.”
She nodded. “I got them a few movies and CDs, things like that, but it’s a far cry from the laptop and gaming systems they’ve been asking for. They’re going to be so disappointed in me.”
Paul was quiet as she lowered her face. As she reached for another napkin, he reached for her discarded wedding bands. There were three rings: a plain gold band, one with a large marquee cut diamond, and a band—likely to celebrate an anniversary—that was filled with diamonds. Sliding the rings onto the tip of his finger, he examined them for a few moments. “You could sell these.”
“Not good for anything else, are they?” she asked after a moment.
He stood, dropped the rings into his pants pocket, and then reached for his coat. “Come on.”
“What are you doing?”
He helped her to her feet and held her coat open until she put her arms in the sleeves.
“Where are we going?”
Instead of answering, he took her hand and tugged her out of the café and down several doors. A bell jingled to announce their arrival as he pulled her into a small pawn shop. The man behind the counter, an elderly gentleman who reminded Paul of his father, welcomed them.
“How much for these?” Paul deposited Dianna’s rings on the glass display case. “And this.” It was a struggle to get his wedding band over his knuckle, but once he did, he set it down next to hers.
After fifteen minutes of bartering, Paul guided Dianna out of the store and toward his car. “I know this guy who runs an electronics store. He’ll have what you want for your boys.”
“Paul, we didn’t get enough to get what they want. I mean, you did a great job haggling with that guy, but do you have any idea what a new laptop costs?”
He opened the passenger door for her. “Trust me. We have enough.”
She stopped in front of him and tilted her head in that sympathetic way she had the day of his trial. “I hate to take the wind out of your superhero cape, but we don’t.”
“This guy we’re going to see—I worked a deal that kept him from serving a very long jail sentence. He said he owes me. We’re going to take him up on it. Trust me.” He winked at her. “We have enough.”
“You’re going to pull in a favor from a criminal to get my boys Christmas presents at an extremely discounted rate?”
“He was never convicted.”
Her lip trembled again, but this time she smiled as tears filled her eyes. She hesitated, as if unsure of herself, before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.
Paul had suggested that Dianna fill her emotional void with brandy, but the best she could do was a cheap bottle of wine. The boys were in the den cussing at each other over a game while she kept herself busy pretending that it wasn’t one of her favorite nights of the year. They had decided not to go to Mitch’s, which had caused him to call her nonstop. She’d finally unplugged the landline and turned off her cell phone. She half expected him to show up at the house, but he hadn’t. Other than that, Thanksgiving had been peaceful, and knowing she had presents to put under the tree, as she had every year since her sons were born, had made her first holiday as an almost-divorcee much easier to get through.
Turning her cell phone back on, she ignored all the pings of new messages and missed calls. She snapped a photo of the tree and sent it to Paul with a message.
It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas, thanks to you and your criminal clientele.
She’d barely put her phone down when it rang. She was expecting it to be Mitch again, but her phone identified the caller as Paul.
“Hey, you.”
Instead of responding to her greeting, he said, “The tree looks nice.”
“Thanks. Did you have a good day?”
He let out a loud sigh. “Not in the least.”
Dianna took a moment to analyze his voice. “You sound a little drunk.”
“Nah, not too much.”
“Paul?”
“I tried calling earlier. I wanted to tell you Happy Thanksgiving.” He was speaking more slowly, as if trying to sound sober but doing a terrible job.
She creased her brow. “I turned my phone off earlier.”
“Oh.”
“What did you do today?”
“I just…you know…stayed home.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it was fine. The kids had stuff going on with their mother, and I didn’t…” He exhaled again. “I wasn’t up for company.”
“Are you up for company now?”
“You don’t have to—”
“We’re in this together, remember?”
Paul was quiet for so long, she began to wonder if he had hung up on her. Finally, he rambled off his address and gave her confusing directions.
She walked to the den and waited to be noticed, but Sam and Jason were too entrenched in a video game. “Hey, guys, I’m going to take some leftovers to a friend. I’ll be back in a while, okay?”
They mumbled responses, confirming what she already knew—they wouldn’t even miss her.
Chapter 5
Paul opened his door before Dianna climbed out of her car. He’d been standing in the window, brandy in hand, waiting for her. Actually, he’d been standing there most of the day, trying to ignore the fact that his day wasn’t filled with the sounds and scents of the holiday.
“I hope you’re hungry.” She held up two covered dishes. “I brought plenty to eat.”
“I’m starving.”
He gestured for her to enter, taking the dishes from her as she passed. She toed off her shoes and looked around his contemporary living room, with its orange-red accent wall and abstract sculptures stuck in white box shelves. He followed her gaze around the room and realized he probably should have cleaned up a bit before she arrived.
She slowly turned her eyes back to him.
He laughed quietly. “Not what you expected?”
“Not exactly.”
“The mess or the colors?”
She lifted her brows. “Both.”
“I haven’t been much in the mood for cleaning. As far as the ugly-ass walls, I told you she’s everywhere here. ‘Contemporary is where it’s at.’ Pfft! I don’t think she knew what the hell she was talking about. If I hadn’t owned this place when we got married, we’d have been living in some horrible warehouse loft downtown. She did the best she could to make this place into what she wanted, but she hated the house as much as I hated her fucking decorating.”
Dianna creased her brow, and he ran his hand through his hair and then gestured to the right toward the kitchen. He sat at the island while she started unloading his dinner. She didn’t ask. She simply started opening cabinets and looking for what she needed, and he let her.
“Remember when you said you were good at decorating?” he asked.
She found the plates and set one on the counter. “Yeah.”
“Can you help me?”
She stared at him for a long time, probably gauging just how much he’d had to drink. Rather than confess the excessive amount of alcohol in his system, he took another gulp and set his near-empty glass aside.
“I can hire someone, I guess.”
“No. I can help. I will help. But ask me when you’ve had a little time to sober up. Is it okay if I make coffee? I’d really like some.”
He nodded and sat back as she figured out the coffee pot. He could have helped, but he didn’t seem to have the energy. He’d tossed and turned the night before, rolling his life over and over in his mind. Thinking about every moment he could recall with Michelle, from the day they met right up to the moment she informed him she was leaving.
“Paul?”
He lifted his face and blinked several times, reconnecting with the present.
“Are you okay?” Dianna asked softly.
“Sorry. My mind wandered.”
“Do you need to lie down?”
He shook his head slightly. “I’m okay.”
She set a mug in front of him. “Drink this.”
“Actually—”
She grabbed the glass of alcohol he’d been consuming before he could. “Drink the coffee.”
He looked into the mug. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’m not going to be very good company.”
“Well, your not-so-good company is still better than what I had at home. The boys have been hiding out in the den playing video games since the tree went up. Let me reheat you some dinner, and we’ll talk, okay?”
“I don’t really want to talk.”
She started scooping food onto his plate. When the plate was in the microwave, she set silverware and a cloth napkin in front of him. By the time she pulled out a second mug and filled it for herself, the microwave dinged. She slid the plate of warmed food onto the counter and then took the seat next to him at the island. “You look like hell.”
He responded by stuffing his mouth full of mashed potatoes. “Are these homemade?”
“Yes.”
“They’re delicious.”
“Thanks. Have you been drinking all day?”
“Yes. But I’m not drunk.”
He took an oversize bite of stuffing and chewed it slowly while she took a drink from her mug.
He swallowed as he pushed his turkey around on his plate. “How are you sleeping, Di?”
“Not so great.”
“Me either.”
“Have you tried sleeping pills?”
“They don’t work.”
She ran her hand up and down his back. “Today is hard.”
“Every day is hard. Today is just worse.” He took a drink of his coffee.
“I wish I had some way to make it better.”
“You’re hurting, too.”
“I’m having an okay day today.”
He took several more bites before pushing the plate away. “That was great. Thanks.”
“Do you want pie?”
“Pumpkin?”
“Of course.” As she served him dessert, she poured him a second cup of coffee.
“You don’t have to stay,” he said as she put the drink in front of him. “I’ll be okay.”
Dianna set a slice of pie next to his mug. “I’d like to stay. If you don’t mind.”
He stuffed his mouth rather than answer. She sat next to him, curled her hands around her mug, and looked around the lime-green kitchen as she’d done the orange-red living room.
“I hate all the bright colors,” he said. “She loved them, said they made her feel alive. They just give me a headache.”
“We can tone it down.”
“And the furniture. I feel like I’m living in a goddamned magazine.”
“We’ll fix it, Paul.”
He slid his mug away and put his elbows on the counter. Digging his hands into his hair, he held his head and took a few breaths. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t need to hear this.”
“Hey,” she whispered. She cupped his cheek with her palm as she turned his face so she could look into his eyes. “We agreed we were going to help each other through this, didn’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“You helped me when I was a complete mess. You held me while I broke down, and then you helped me figure out what I needed to do to provide Christmas for my kids. You helped me. Now, let me help you.”
She took his hand and pulled him from the stool. He wrapped his arms around her, and her arms went around his waist as he hugged her tightly. He didn’t know how long he held her, his face buried in her long, dark hair, but it wasn’t nearly long enough. He only eased his hold when she pulled away.
“Where’s your room?”
“That way.” He nodded to the hallway.
She guided him through the dimly lit house and into his bedroom. “Lie down.”
