Blues Beach, Page 5

  Today she’d had to open at work, and she would be out of there in a little over an hour. That’s when her cell phone rang, and she was a little surprised to see it was Jeff’s number.

  “Hey, Trace.”

  “Jeff?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry to call you like this.” He didn’t sound right. His voice sounded choked, like he was trying not to cry.

  Fear thrummed through her. “What’s wrong? Is Emma okay?”

  “Yeah, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s…it’s me. I’m at work. I…” It sounded like he drew in a breath. “I can’t drive home. I’m sitting here in my damn truck, and I realized I can’t drive. I feel horrible. I’m sorry I’m calling you like this. If you can’t, I understand. But could you, please, come get…”

  She heard him openly crying now, and her heart broke for him.

  “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll come get you, honey. Where are you?” He told her. “I can be there in about twenty minutes.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

  “No, hey, it’s all right, sweetie. Let me finish what I’m working on real fast and get clocked out.”

  Once she got him off the phone—and calmed her racing pulse—she finished the report she’d been working on and went to find the store manager.

  “I have a family emergency. Can I clock out early?”

  “I’m sorry, sure. Is everything okay?”

  “It’s—long story, my daughter’s step-dad has Lyme disease, and he’s apparently in a bad flare. He just called me in tears that he can’t drive. I need to go pick him up from work and take him home.”

  “Sure, go ahead. Linda will be here in a few minutes. I hope he feels better.”

  “Thanks. Me, too.”

  She hurried, debating whether to call Brandon or not. She had a strong feeling Jeff probably hadn’t, but she didn’t want to cross a line. Brandon the Master would not be happy if his boy didn’t tell him what was going on, but that was between them.

  Jeff had recently gone back to work part-time at the auto dealership he used to work for when he contracted Lyme. This time in the parts department instead of as a mechanic. She suspected from what she’d seen herself that it was wearing on him a lot more than he was admitting to Brandon and Stu, just in the two short weeks he’d been working.

  When she arrived, she realized from the drawn, pale, pinched look on Jeff’s face that he felt even worse than he was letting on. It took every ounce of will she had not to reach over and buckle his seat belt for him when he had trouble doing it.

  At the men’s house, once she also found out that, no, of course he hadn’t called Brandon or Stuart, she got him settled on the sofa, made him lunch, made him take his meds, and sat down to watch TV with him.

  And she waited, knowing Emma wouldn’t hesitate to turn Jeff in to her dad.

  Which…was exactly what Emma did as soon as she walked through the door and realized why Tracey was there.

  Brandon asked if Tracey could stay with Jeff until they got home, and of course she couldn’t say no.

  Would not say no.

  The man needed their help, and she wasn’t going to turn her back on him.

  After the other two men arrived home, once they’d all eaten dinner, Tracey had to leave. Brandon and Stuart walked her out to her car.

  “Thanks again, Trace,” Brandon said, hugging her tightly. “I really appreciate it.”

  Stuart stepped in to hug her, too. “Yeah. Thanks for taking care of him.”

  “Like I said, he’s family. No way I won’t help.”

  Brandon scratched at the back of his neck. “If you ever need a place to stay, or want to move in here for a while to save money—”

  She rested her hands on his chest, quieting him with a smile. “Thanks, but no. I love you guys, and I need to do this on my own. Ruth is okay with me renting a room from her. We were talking about it last week, and she’s fine with me staying as long as I want. We’d originally decided on a year, but everything’s working out well with us as roommates.” She laughed. “And let’s be honest—I’d cramp your style…Sir.”

  At least that earned her a smile from Brandon.

  “The offer stands,” Stu insisted. “If you ever need us, we’re here.”

  It also touched her. “I appreciate that. I hope I never reach that point, but I promise if I’m ever in serious trouble, I’ll ask.”

  Once she was on her way home, feeling exhausted and realizing she wasn’t going to get as much studying done tonight as she’d hoped, she let her emotions finally start to play out.

  It touched her that Brandon had extended that offer to her.

  Once again, hard to not make the comparisons to only a year ago.

  Instead of turning toward home, she found herself heading west, to the beach.

  Just a few minutes.

  There, she sucked in a cold lungful of salty Gulf air as she walked out to the sand.

  Tonight she didn’t sit, the sand damp from heavy rains the night before. Instead, she stared out at the water, at the stars reflecting on its surface.

  Tried to clear her mind.

  The easy path would be screaming yes and taking Brandon up on his offer to move in.

  I can’t.

  If a couple of years had already passed and she felt she was farther along in her emotional recovery than she was, sure. Or if she’d hit a massive bump in the road personally in terms of her health, like Jeff.

  Brandon had earned his happiness and didn’t deserve to be saddled with her.

  And if she moved in with him, it’d be too damn easy to never want to leave, to cling to his familiar comfort and use it to emotionally self-medicate instead of doing what she was currently doing and trying to work on her.

  If only she could unpack every last bit of her personal baggage and leave it there at the beach, life would be perfect and easy.

  Totally unrealistic, too.

  Life was messy and hard and while yes, ironically, it was now easier than it had been for a while, she knew she needed to weather this period on her own.

  I can do this.

  She turned and trudged back to her car to head home and study.

  Chapter Six

  Not even a week after she’d rescued Jeff from work, she was at work when she received a call from Stuart.

  Considering he rarely called her, her gut immediately tensed, even before she answered. “What’s going on?”

  “Um…hey, Trace. Uh, listen, I need you to stay calm—”

  “What. Happened?”

  He blew out a breath. “For starters, the girls are okay. They’re fine, they’re safe. Jeff’s a little banged up, but—”

  “Stuart!” She didn’t care that she shrieked it and everyone in the office now stared at her. “What happened?”

  He started to detail the attack on Jeff by Stuart’s older brother, the one who’d given Brandon and Stuart a hassle during the wedding in Iowa.

  And how the girls had come to Jeff’s rescue.

  “I’ll clock out and—”

  “No, it’s okay,” Stuart insisted. “We’re driving Jeff to the ER now because he refused to let the ambulance transport him. The girls are coming with us. They’re fine. Hang on.”

  Emma’s voice came on the line. “Mom, seriously, don’t leave work. We’re okay.”

  Tracey sank onto an office chair, the shakes hitting her. “You could have been killed!”

  “Nah, Grace and I had it under control. He was just a big windbag. Only reason he hurt Jeff was he sucker-punched him. If it hadn’t been for that, he’d be okay. Well, mostly.”

  “Put your father on. Right now.”

  “Um…I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s cleaning up where he puked.”

  “What?”

  Emma laughed. “Grace sort of went Hannibal Lecter on the guy with a barbecue fork, and Dad hurled all over the living room floor when we were talking about it. She’s helping him clean it up.”
br />   Poor Brandon. He did have a weak stomach. Ironic, since he was a sadist. To his credit, he’d spent plenty of time gagging while changing diapers when Em was a baby, but had never asked not to do it.

  Tracey was smart enough not to ask for more details in light of all of that. “What hospital are you taking Jeff to?”

  “Proctor-Collins.”

  “I get off work in an hour. Text me when you’re there, and I’ll come over after I clock out.”

  Frankly, she needed to put eyes on her daughter for herself.

  “Okay. Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Tracey ended the call and realized everyone in the office was still staring at her. “If you hear on the news tonight about two teenagers saving their dad with a dip net and a barbecue fork, I can legit claim them as immediate family.”

  The store manager looked understandably confused. “Do you need to clock out?”

  “No, they said everything’s under control.” She slipped her phone back in her pocket. She’d been working on reconciling a truck report, one of her future jobs once she received her promotion.

  Does it make me a horrible person that I’m relieved I don’t have to leave early?

  She decided not to think about that right now.

  * * * *

  Jeff had been admitted to a regular room by the time Tracey arrived at the hospital with sacks of fast food and juggling two drink carriers for everyone for dinner. It shocked her when the tears hit her when she saw him, his bruised and battered face, his bandaged hands.

  After handing off the food and drinks to Brandon and Stuart, she leaned in and kissed the top of Jeff’s head. “Hey, you. You need to stop scaring us like this.”

  “Right? Life’s exciting with me around, ain’t it?” From the slur in his speech and his lopsided smile, she suspected his IV contained a painkiller.

  Then she turned and hugged Emma, tightly squeezing, not wanting to let her go. “I don’t know if I should spank you or reward you.”

  Brandon laughed. “Welcome to my world.”

  She hugged Grace next. “I’m guessing you told your parents?”

  “Yeah, they already came by to see him. Em’s going to take me home in a little while.”

  “Ooh, take me, take me!” Jeff joked.

  “Hush, you,” Brandon said as he opened his bag of food. “You’re in for the duration.”

  “So what the hell happened?” Tracey asked.

  Jeff started off, with Emma and Grace filling in from the point they arrived.

  “They were awesome,” Jeff said. “I think the deputies wanted their autographs. Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy ride again!”

  By the time Tracey left the hospital that evening, she felt exhausted and headed home. After a shower and a beer, she was finding it hard to focus on her studies and decided to hit Facebook for a little while. Meanwhile, she trolled the Sarasota TV station’s website and found they had already posted a story about it.

  So she posted a link to that on her Facebook profile, along with a short note.

  Not only is my kid a legit genius, apparently she’s also a superhero in training. #proudmom

  She blamed not remembering to limit the audience for the post on the beer, because her cell phone rang a few minutes later.

  Her mother.

  Shit.

  She took a deep breath. “Hello?”

  “What the hell is going on?” She’d never heard her mom sound this outraged. Not even when she’d moved to Florida.

  Tracey took a deep breath and let it out. “Hi, Mom. How are you? Oh, I’m fine, doing well, and Dad? Yes, weather’s great, thanks for asking.”

  “Stop it. How can you let your daughter live in that situation?”

  Ancient, simmering rage threatened to boil over, but Tracey managed to reel it in. “You mean with her father?”

  “He doesn’t even have a college diploma. She’s never going to reach her full potential.”

  “Okay, for starters, yes, he does. Secondly, he’s a regional manager, so I’d say he’s doing a lot better than I am right now. And third, considering she’s in Mensa and National Honor Society, I’d say she’s doing damn well for herself.”

  An old, familiar sigh floated across the line. “You just have to make things difficult, don’t you? I don’t understand why you refused to go to college.”

  “Yeah, we’re not going to have that discussion, Mom.” And she’d be damned if she’d tell her mother about what she was currently doing. That would lead into a very unwanted lecture about what Tracey should and shouldn’t be doing with her life, and a detailed retelling of everywhere she’d turned wrong when she should have listened to them.

  “You always were stubborn.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I have another call coming in. Love you!” Tracey hung up on her and fought the urge to switch the ringer off. She didn’t want to be out of touch in case Brandon needed to contact her about Jeff, even though she knew there likely wouldn’t be any overnight developments.

  One of her cousins, Cara, who’d been in Tracey’s high school graduating class, had sent her a PM on Facebook while Tracey was distracted on the phone call. They were also good friends despite the distance between them.

  That’s an awesome story about Em! I bet it was scary, but you have every right to be a proud mom. I also just realized you’re not in our high school class group on here. Want me to add you? I’m an admin.

  Tracey hadn’t gone to the ten- or twenty-year reunions. She and Brandon had Emma and no money when the ten-year rolled around, and she’d been with Pat and had no money at the twenty.

  She’d had friends in high school. In fact, they’d been her refuge when she’d felt like an alien amongst her own family. She hadn’t seen Cara in years, since Emma was a toddler. Still, they remained fairly close, talking on the phone every week or so, and talking every day via Facebook and text messages. Cara lived in California, single, but she was usually so busy working she didn’t have time to take a day off, much less travel.

  Sure, go ahead and add me.

  A moment later, Tracey saw the notification pop up. A quick skim through the member list showed a lot of familiar names, save one she would have liked to see.

  No Eric.

  Maybe that was for the best. One less reason for her to beat herself up if she saw how successful and happy he was.

  She finally forced herself to shut down Facebook and start studying.

  * * * *

  Life settled down over the next several weeks as the two junior supervillains in training recovered from the run-in, as did Jeff. Tracey’s studies were going well, and at work she was taking on more duties that would be required of her as an assistant manager.

  A loooot of work.

  Damn, did it feel good, too.

  Mostly because at every turn she seemed to be excelling. For once.

  This was definitely an odd feeling to have.

  Success.

  She would likely receive her promotion to assistant manager in the next three months. Once she had that, and the accompanying raise, she could really start to save her money and maybe finally start building a nest egg for retirement.

  More and more, Tracey was taking her laptop with her and after work hanging out at Brandon’s. He was currently busy supervising the building of a new store in his region, meaning extra work for him, but he welcomed it even though, for now, it meant a lot of late evenings and extra driving.

  Tracey set up her work schedule to make sure she was attending all of Emma’s swim meets, even if it meant working a split day, sometimes. As she started turning in assignments for her online classes and earning As and Bs on them, her confidence built.

  It felt like something good growing, something positive.

  Like maybe she was finally on the right path with her life.

  It was the middle of March, nearly two months after the attack on Jeff, when life dropped a bomb on her.

  She’d been in an ongoing PM
thread via Facebook with Cara, when Cara suddenly stopped responding one Monday evening. By the next morning, when Facebook-addicted Cara hadn’t posted anything on her timeline, or responded to private messages, Tracey started to worry.

  As had several mutual friends, who’d started a group PM, including Tracey.

  No one could contact her by phone, either. It hadn’t taken long for her voice mail account to start triggering a “mailbox is full” message when people called her, and she wasn’t responding to text messages.

  Tuesday afternoon, Tracey convinced one of her brothers, Kendall, who lived about thirty minutes away, to go over to Cara’s and check on her. Her parents lived in Seattle, her brother lived in Texas, and Cara didn’t have any other close family in the area besides Tracey’s family. And no one wanted to call her parents and brother and worry them yet in case it was a false alarm.

  When Kendall called her back an hour later, Tracey sensed he bore bad news.

  “I…I’m sorry, Trace. I looked through the window and saw her lying on the floor. Then I called 911. They’re saying it looks like it might have been an allergic reaction. The doors and windows were locked and there’s no sign of trauma. I’m going to call Aunt Jill and Uncle John, and then JJ. They think she’s been dead since last evening. The police want to talk to you first, though.” Aunt Jill was their father’s sister.

  She rubbed her forehead, a headache now threatening. “Okay. Text me once you’ve talked to her parents and her brother. And please let me know about the funeral so I can make plans to fly out.”

  “I will.”

  She wasn’t sure how she’d afford it, and she damn sure wasn’t looking forward to it, but no way in hell would she miss it. Maybe she hadn’t been able to see her in years, but she’d be damned if she’d miss this. No matter what.

  In shock, she walked down to a small conference room and closed the door as she answered the officer’s questions. It looked like Cara had brought takeout food home and had been in the process of eating. Did Cara have any allergies that Tracey knew about? Did she have an epi pen? Was she on any medication, or take drugs…