“You’ve worked at Kroger for fifteen years, Gabby, you’re a manager and you had to disclose your income the last time you took me to court. You are far from hurting.”
This was true, except the part about him learning this when she’d had to disclose it the last time she took him to court. He’d checked up on her regularly, he’d known for years exactly what she was paid, what she spent her money on and what she spent his money on.
“Jesus, why do you make me jump through hoops like this when it’s for our boys?” she snapped, her voice rising.
That pissed him off.
“I have never, not once, Gabrielle, made you jump through hoops when it’s for our boys. Not… fucking… once and you fucking know it.”
She snapped her mouth shut. She knew it.
“And you’re standin’ there lyin’ to me. You got trouble? You tell me, I’ll help you out. But do not walk into my office and hand me a load of shit and expect me to pay you to do it.”
“I’m not lying,” she retorted.
“Bullshit, Gabby. You think in my line of work I can’t spot a liar? I didn’t learn that quick, I’d be dead.”
Her flush suffused her face; she knew he’d pegged her.
“Now, why do you need five hundred dollars?” he continued.
“I don’t,” she returned.
“You asked for it not five minutes ago.”
“Stew does,” she bit off, her eyes sliding away from him.
Layne felt his body get tight.
Then he stated in a quiet voice, “You are fucking shitting me.”
Her eyes shot back to him. “He’s in a jam.”
Layne pushed away from the door and crossed his arms on his chest. “Don’t give a fuck Stew Baranski is in a jam.”
“If he’s in a jam, I’m in a jam.”
Layne’s brows drew together. “You in danger?”
“No,” she hissed, pissed as all hell she had to tell him what she had to tell him. “Things are just tight. I might not be able to make the mortgage.”
Layne sucked in another breath and his head dropped back so he could look at the ceiling.
Then he made a decision and looked back at his ex-wife.
“I told you –” he started.
“Don’t!” she clipped, her voice again rising.
“I told you not to let that asshole in your life. You did,” Layne went on.
“He’s my man, I love him,” she shot back.
“Your choice and because of that, he’s your problem.”
“I miss the mortgage, I could lose my house!”
“They don’t foreclose for months, Gabby, tell him to get his shit together and figure it out. I’m not getting involved.”
“He’s in deep, Layne, he’s trying to sort it out but it’ll take time. I can’t lose the house in the meantime.”
“What I don’t get is how the house is on the line. You got enough money to –”
“I’ve been helping him out.”
Layne studied her. Then he asked, “How bad is this?”
“Bad.”
That wasn’t a good answer.
“How bad and how long’s it been goin’ on?” he pressed.
She stared at him and didn’t answer. That meant awhile.
Then she said, “I lose the house, Jas and Tripp –”
“Then you’re lucky I’m home, Gabby. Means the boys are good, always got a bed with me.”
“I can’t believe you!” she yelled
He dropped his arms and walked to her. While doing it, he tried to find Gabrielle Weil in her bitter face, now twisted with anger. She hadn’t been a knockout but she had been very pretty. She carried an extra fifty pounds now, at least, and she didn’t carry it like she was comfortable with it. Her hair was now dyed and looked that way and she should have left it to turn gray. Her mother’s hair was thick and gray and attractive. She worked it, Gabby could have too. The skin on Gabby’s face was slack because she didn’t take care of it, bags under her eyes, probably from not sleeping or being pissed off at Layne and the world for nearly two decades.
He stopped in front of her and tipped his head down to look at her.
Then, softly, he said, “I told you not to get hooked up with that guy. I told you he’d bring you trouble. Stew is no good. He treated you right, I’d be happy to eat my words. But I get from this that he’s been fuckin’ around and he’s involved you in it and that is one way a man doesn’t treat a woman right.”
“You’d know how not to treat a woman right, Tanner,” she shot back.
“Don’t go there, Gabby. I took care of you, I took care of our house, I took care of our boys. I worked my ass off to make a life for our family. We weren’t a love match and you knew it and you wanted my ring on your finger anyway. I gave it to you and did the best I could. It wasn’t good enough. You gave a little, even the barest fucking inch, we coulda made a go of it. You didn’t. You can blame me but we both know that’s bullshit. That’s on you and this is on you. I don’t want any part of this. You made a decision a decade and a half ago to hold onto something when you shoulda let it go and you fucked up your life. You made a decision two years ago to hold onto something you shoulda let go and it’s happening again. I’m not getting dragged into this. I start, it won’t stop for me either and I’m not down with that. You go home, you talk to that asshole and you tell him to get his shit together and you don’t come here again and hand me this bullshit. Am I clear?”
“You are so full of shit,” she hissed.
“Yeah?” he asked, “How?”
“I gave,” she informed him.
“Yeah, you gave, you gave me attitude for five fuckin’ years.”
“My husband was lusting after another woman!”
Fuck!
He wished he had a dollar for every time she brought up Raquel. He’d have a much healthier bank balance if he did.
“That’s the something you shoulda let go,” he told her.
“Yeah, how would I do that, Tanner? How?”
“You cared about what we were tryin’ to build, you woulda found a way to let her go, like I did.”
The second time that day he watched a woman’s body jerk. He knew he had her. She knew he’d done the best he could with the hand he’d been dealt. She knew he wouldn’t step out on her, even if Rocky had come back. Gabby had his ring on her finger, their sons under their roof, so she had him. She couldn’t fight that corner. She tried, way too often, and she never won.
“This was a waste of my time,” Gabby gave in acidly.
“Yeah, it was,” Layne agreed.
“Thanks for all your help,” she spat, turning.
“Happy to oblige,” he muttered, also turning.
“And you think Stew is an asshole,” she mumbled, opening the door.
Layne sighed.
Then he heard the door close behind her.
Then he walked into his office, logged out of his bank account and started to investigate Stewart Baranski’s finances.
Dave Merrick opened his front door and Layne, Jasper and Tripp were assaulted with a scent that could only be what heaven smelled like.
“That smells great!” Tripp shouted, and bolted in, nearly bowling Dave over as he kept shouting his greeting, “Hey Uncle Dave!” Then he ran down the hall to the kitchen in the back.
Dave had turned to watch and he turned back, smiling.
“Hey Uncle Dave,” Jasper repeated his brother’s words, socked Dave in the shoulder and followed Tripp, much slower, playing it cool, not wanting Mrs. Astley to know he couldn’t wait to see her.
“Jas,” Dave replied and then he stepped from the door, keeping one hand on it, his other outstretched, inviting Layne in, “Tanner, good to see you, son.”
Tanner took his hand, squeezed and got a squeeze back.
Dave Merrick was still a good-looking man at sixty-three, tall, lean, fit, he only limped when he got tired and he only brought out the cane when it was raining and the wet got in his bones, making his old wounds ache.
A long time ago, Dave had been married to a woman named Cecilia, the town beauty. Layne remembered her and exactly what she looked like which was a lot like what Rocky looked like now. And he remembered he’d never seen her not smiling.
He also remembered the day he’d heard she’d been murdered on the same night Dave had been shot five times.
He also remembered going to her funeral with his mother and everyone else in town and standing across the casket and watching Raquel the whole time as she sat in her seat, her eyes not moving from the casket, not once, her skin pale, blue shadows under her eyes, her face perfectly blank. He had only known of her then, he hadn’t really known her. She was already beyond pretty. But she was fourteen, he was eighteen and he was out of her league. It wouldn’t be for three years when he’d run into her and decide to make his move.
He let Dave’s hand go and moved into the house, pausing to wait for Dave to close the door. When he first got back and renewed his relationship with Dave and Merry, coming to that house messed with his head. Too many memories there. Now, he and his boys had been there so many times, it didn’t faze him.
Except for that night and the fact that Rocky was somewhere in that house. She was never there when they were there.
“How’s things, Tanner?” Dave asked, coming to his side as they made their way slowly down the hall by the stairs.
“Could be better,” Layne answered honestly. Dave was a friend, Dave had known him a long time and Dave used to be a cop, three reasons not to lie. One way or the other, he’d know.
Dave was silent for a beat before he said, “We’ll talk later.”
Layne nodded and they hit ground zero on the smell.
Merry was standing at a counter, wielding an electric knife. Tripp had his head in the fridge. Jasper had settled on a stool at the counter.
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