For You

Chapter Thirteen Stavros

“What?”

“You heard me, Feb.”

I looked at Doc, speechless.

Doc patted my knee and got up, saying, “You can put your clothes back on.”

I didn’t move.

Instead, I asked, “How?”

He was walking to the sink and he turned to me, brows lifted, face carefully blank but, if I could think at that moment, I would have sworn he was trying not to laugh, and he repeated, “How?”

I was back to speechless.

“Feb, I’m guessin’ you know how.”

“But –”

“Have you and Colt been using protection?” Doc asked.

“No… but –”

“Then that’s how.”

“I’m forty-two years old,” I reminded him.

“You still have a period?”

“Well, not anymore.”

He chuckled. I went back to staring. He turned back to the sink and washed his hands.

When he came around again, drying them, he said softly, “Get off my table, February, get dressed and go tell Colt you’re pregnant.”

Then he tossed the paper towel in the trash and walked out of the room.

“Hey Kath,” I said, walking in the front door of the Police Station.

“Hey, Feb,” Kath said back, grinning huge.

Since she couldn’t know I was pregnant and probably wouldn’t be grinning huge at that knowledge, (like I was grinning on the inside), just maybe grinning, I asked, “What?”

“Well, let me see…” Kath said then leaned forward when I made it to the front counter. “I gotta count ‘em down. First, Bethany kicked Cory’s ass out last night.”

I leaned forward too and repeated, “What?”

“Walked right into Tina Blackstone’s house, caught them in the act and threw a fit to end all fits.”

I put both hands on the counter and leaned forward. “So that’s what all that noise was about last night. Colt was so pissed, I had to get creative so he wouldn’t go over there and wade in.”

Kath nodded, still grinning. “Forgot, you and Colt live across the street from Tina.” Then her face changed, it went dreamy before she said, “Creative with Colt, bet that was fun.”

“It was,” I affirmed with my own smile, because it really, seriously was. “Anyway,” I went on, deciding to share my own gossip, “Bethany may be loud but, the shocker is, Tina’s louder.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. She always struck me as someone with a big mouth,” Kath noted.

“Yeah, a big mouth is one thing, a loud mouth another. Bethany could win awards and still Tina’s a lot louder.”

Kath laughed then one upped me. “Did you know Bethany went into labor right then and there?”

“No joke?” I breathed.

“No joke,” Kath replied, “and, right after she had the baby, a little girl, by the way, she kicked his ass out. They hadn’t even cut the umbilical cord. Rumor has it, he’s moving in with Tina.”

“Out of the frying pan, into the fire,” I muttered and Kath’s grin got even wider. “Wonder how Tina’ll take to Cory playin’ around.”

“You and Colt might want to consider soundproofing,” Kath suggested and I figured that’d be a good idea. “But that’s not it,” Kath told me.

“What’s it, then?” I asked.

“Colt fucked Monica Merriweather.”

I blinked fast about a dozen times before I asked again, “What?”

“Yonks ago he told her he’d give her an exclusive on the whole…” she stopped talking, her expression changed and she waved her hand in the air in an effort to say words she didn’t really have to say, “then, he didn’t.”

“I know.”

“She’s pissed. She’s been in, like, every day for the last two months since it went down. Gettin’ in Colt’s face, gettin’ in everyone’s face and gettin’ nothin’. Colt’s sealed up tight. Sully’s sealed up tight. Everyone’s sealed up tight. Monica is persona non grata even more than she was persona non grata and pretty much everyone hated her before. Now she’s not gettin’ anything not just on that thing but on everything. She’s been locked out.”

“I know that too, Kath.” And I did, Colt told me all about it.

“Welp, did you know Monica and Colt had a showdown just two feet away from me not ten minutes ago? Apparently, that reporter from The Star’s got a book comin’ out and before it’s even in the bookstores he’s sold the movie rights.”

I knew what she was saying.

I couldn’t say I was pleased there was going to be a movie made about the Denny mess and I was also not pleased there was going to be a book but Colt warned me this was probably going to happen. We’d been through weeks of reporters hounding us anywhere they could get to us before they realized we weren’t talking, Sully wasn’t talking, the FBI weren’t talking. They finally figured out they were only going to get the information released as a matter of course and then the next story came along and they lost interest.

What I could say was I was pleased that Monica wasn’t going to make her career from it. Colt had told me about her and since the day Denny came back to town she’d been a serious pain in the ass. Calling Colt, calling me, stopping by the bar, coming to the Station, bothering me when I was at Mimi’s. She’d written three articles about us and made some shit up and it wasn’t nice shit. Colt lost his cool and talked to Eli Levinson. Eli was one year ahead of Colt at high school, the wide receiver on the football team who went to law school, opened up his practice in town and Eli owed Colt a favor. Eli paid up by slapping Monica and The Gazette with a cease and desist which included a threat of litigation should they libel us any further. The Gazette had gladly printed a retraction and also just as gladly used that as an excuse to dump Monica’s ass. We’d heard word they’d fired her yesterday.

Evidently she wasn’t too happy about losing her job and her promised (and reneged) exclusive on the story of the year.

“Who won the showdown?” I asked Kath, even though I knew the answer.

Kath was talking through her laughter as she answered, “Seein’ as Monica got physical and is currently in lockdown, I’d say Colt won.”

My mind filled with visions of short, pudgy Monica going up against tall, lean Colt and I swallowed back a giggle and looked up the stairs.

“She got physical with a police officer?” I asked.

“In the end, three,” Kath answered.

I swallowed more laughter before saying, “So, is he in a good mood or a bad mood?”

“Can’t say. Monica’s in lockdown, which is good, but she had her hands on him, which he never liked.”

I felt my lip curl and said, “I don’t blame him.”

“Prefers your hands on him, I reckon,” I heard from my side and I turned to see Marty standing there.

My eyes went to his neck, the scar still vivid and I felt that familiar tightness in my throat just as I fought it back and forced a smile.

“Hey Marty,” I said softly, reaching out and touching my fingers to his hand. His hand twisted and he touched my fingers back before both our hands fell away. “I hear you’re back in uniform.”

“Yeah, a week. Thinkin’ about takin’ a vacation.”

I laughed and Kath said, “You just had a month and a half off and then some.”

“Yeah, through April showers, now sun’s out and I feel the need to go fishin’,” Marty answered.

“Then what you doin’ at the Station on your day off?” Kath asked.

“Heard Monica’s in lockdown so I came to take a picture.” He lifted up a digital camera. “Wanna put one in the visor of all the cruisers, do my bit to keep morale up.” He turned to me. “Wanna copy?”

I shook my head. “Thanks, but no. I’ve seen enough of Monica for awhile.”

“Reckon so,” Marty replied and I gave him a smile that said more than the fact that I thought he was funny. It was the smile I’d given him in his hospital room and more than a dozen times besides, in fact, every time I went to his house, with Colt, with Mom and Dad, with Dee and the kids, all of those times bringing casseroles or Mimi’s baked goods, all of them not ever going to be enough to say “thank you for taking a bullet to the neck in an effort to protect me”.

After I gave him my smile, I turned to Kath.

“Okay if I go up?” I asked, my eyes going to the stairs before I looked back at her.

“Sure,” she said.

I smiled at her, gave Marty’s arm a squeeze and then headed up the stairs.

Colt was at his desk, his back to me, his hand holding a phone to his ear and I got a tickle in my belly from both seeing him and from holding my secret.

He turned to me and I read right away he wasn’t in a good mood. He tipped his head to the chair by his desk and I headed that way.

“You got until Friday, Ned,” I heard Colt say as I sat down beside his desk and I knew he wasn’t in a bad mood just because of Monica but because we’d hired Ned to build onto the garage and he was jacking us around getting it finished. This was unusual. Ned was known to get his work done on time and on budget. Then again, Ned’s wife had chosen about two days into our job to do a runner with one of Ned’s workmen, leaving Ned with two kids not yet in kindergarten and, therefore, Ned’s mind was on other things.

“Yeah, I get it, I know you’ve hit the shit but you said it’d take three weeks. We’re workin’ on week six and I got a driveway full of crap. Both Feb and I are parkin’ our cars on the street and Feb’s car’s barely got its new plates,” Colt told him and I smiled to myself because my new car with new plates was a cute, little, blue, convertible Volkswagen Beetle.

I’d won that fight using my high-heeled black shoes, a lacy black teddy that Jessie and I picked up at Victoria’s Secret and the pool table. My strategy worked, by the time I asked him, Colt couldn’t say no.

This was well before his birthday. On his birthday, he got what he’d always had way back when. Mom’s pork tenderloin with her famous mustard sauce followed by an angel food cake and the whole family packed around our dining table. Dee had given him a framed picture of me and Colt that she took at the bar. It showed Colt at his stool, his legs spread, me standing between them. I had one arm around his shoulders, my other hand on his chest and my lips were resting on his hair. He had his forehead on my shoulder. We were both in profile but you could see we were both laughing. I didn’t remember why we were laughing, but I did remember how his laughter felt sounding against my body. It was a great present and at that moment that picture was sitting on his desk.

My present was good too, it involved lacy underwear and high heels again, this time red and it included garters and stockings with seams up the back.

I liked Dee’s present best.

Colt liked my present better.

“Nope, Ned, don’t buy that since Jackie’s been watchin’ your kids,” Colt went on, paused then sighed and said, “Just get some focus and get it done. Yeah?” He listened for another second then said, “All right, later,” and he put down the phone.

Without hesitating, he rolled to me, leaned in, nabbed me behind the neck and pulled me forward for a hard, longish, closed-mouthed kiss right in front of everyone in the bullpen.

Back in the day Colt had been affectionate. He held my hand. He sat close and put his arm around my chair. When he walked me to class, he either had his thumb hooked in the back belt loop of my jeans or his arm around my shoulders.

Now it was the same and then some. If I was close, he was close, kissing, touching, holding hands, nabbing me and pulling me in to touch his mouth to the necklaces at my neck, wrapping his fist in my hair to hold my head steady just so he could talk to me. No matter where we were or who was watching.

At first I figured this had to do with what happened that day, what he’d walked into at the bar, what he’d walked into at Susie’s. But I thought it’d die down. When it didn’t, I decided it had to do with all that and all that came before it and the fact that Colt was making up for lost time. I didn’t mind this, not at all. I didn’t care who was watching either and I was happy to make up for lost time and I’d be happy if it lasted the rest of my life.

“Whatcha doin’ here, baby?” he asked when he let me go but he stayed leaned into my space so I stayed leaned into his.

“Came by to tell you I got a reservation at Costa’s tonight,” I told him, having decided Costa’s was the perfect place to tell Colt, if it all went okay, he was going to be a father. We’d had three more reservations there since it went down with Denny and because of his work we’d had to cancel all three.

He smiled but asked, “I thought you were on tonight.”

“Called Cheryl. She could use the extra shift.”

Colt’s smile got bigger. “What time?”

“Seven.”

“I can do that.”

“Colt?” I called and he leaned in closer.

“Right in front of you, honey.”

“Please, don’t miss this one,” I whispered, his head tipped to the side and his gaze grew intense.

“All right,” he whispered back, seeing I was going to say no more, not then, and letting me have it. “I won’t miss it.”

My fingers curled around his knee and I pushed. “Promise me.”

His fingers went into the hair at the side of my head, his palm warm against my cheek when he replied, “Baby, I promise.”

I pressed my cheek into his palm.

Then I smiled.

“What do you think?” I asked Phy as I came out of the dressing room.

“Danny! Quit it and come here!” She ignored me and the other patrons staring at her aghast as she shouted loudly to her son who was racing through the rails of clothes.

“I like it, Auntie Feb,” April, Phy’s daughter was giving me the once, twice and three times over.

“Thanks, baby,” I said to April and looked at Phy. “Phy?”

Phy looked at me as Danny slunk toward her, his lip sticking out. “You look good in everything, Feb.”

“Thanks but ‘good’ isn’t what I’m going for.”

“It’s too tight,” Danny announced, arriving and stopping just outside his mother’s reach to cross his arms on his little boy chest and glare at my dress.

I smiled at him. “Now that’s what I’m going for.”

Phy gave me a look which made me laugh softly and I went back into the dressing room and changed back into my jeans and tee.

I was thinking the dress was overkill considering in a few months I wouldn’t be able to wear it anymore. Furthermore, I was going to need a whole new wardrobe for awhile. Money wasn’t getting low but it was flowing out pretty damned fast.

I’d cashed in some CDs and some bonds, bought the car, the garage door opener and paid Ned. Colt and I had also pre-paid a cabin by a lake in Wisconsin for a week in June. He’d want to fish, I knew, and I’d want to do absolutely nothing but be with him, even if he was doing something as mind-numbingly boring as fishing, so that worked for both of us.

Colt and I, Dee and Morrie, Mom and Dad as well as a number of other citizens helped pay for Angie’s funeral. It had been as nice as a funeral could be.

Mom and Dad had flat out paid for Joe-Bob’s. His had been nicer, most of the town showed up which meant most of the town shut down to do it. It was the biggest funeral I’d ever seen, standing room only at Markham and Sons, the few people left in town to drive by would have seen Joe-Bob went way past five on the funeral popularity scale, tipping the pointer straight to the unheard of ten.

After, Mom and Dad, Morrie and I had thrown a huge party at J&J’s. We gave out tickets, first drink free and Dad grilled bratwursts in the alley that Dee, Mom, Mimi, Jessie and Lorraine had cleaned up with Morrie, Jimbo, Al, Sully and Chris’s help doing the heavy work. They’d festooned it with lights, balloons and streamers. It wasn’t a place of death and kidnapping and blood anymore but a happy place, a place to party. We’d partied and, as usual, the party had lasted all night.

I reckon Joe-Bob would have liked that.

With all that spending, it was lucky that it was summer and turnover at the bar always went up in summer. But it was more. The races were on and we were now a place of interest, almost a tourist attraction. Folks coming into the bar to see where a serial killer made his final kill, to have a look at the woman who was his obsession. Some even took pictures of Joe-Bob’s stool, a stool Morrie, on his own and not telling anyone, had taken away and reupholstered in black velvet, a big, black, satin ribbon attached across the seat, the sides of which were big, satin bows. Every day upon opening, Morrie or Darryl or me poured out a draft and rested the mug on the seat. It was a memorial of sorts. It was also a stool no one but no one put their ass on anymore and never would.

Then there were some who even tried to take pictures of me. Pictures of the stool pissed everyone off but we got used to it, as long as they bought a drink or two, we let it slide. When they tried to take a photo of me that was a different story. It pissed Morrie and Dad off when they tried it. It pissed Darryl off more. They pointed their camera or cell phone at me, they were shown the door, usually by Darryl. Sometimes, they were shown the door in a not very nice way, again usually by Darryl. A couple of times, it was so not nice, they called the cops. Unsurprisingly, any cop that showed up to that call arrived and they weren’t in a very good mood when they did. Not at Darryl, at tourists doing stupid shit that fucked up their day. The cops didn’t tend to spend a lot of time explaining their bad mood before they explained where the town line was and asked if the tourist wanted an escort there. The tourists usually declined their offer at an escort but took them up on the directions.

I hung up the dress, grabbed my bag, exited the dressing room and Phylenda, April, Danny and I walked to the cash register.

When I handed over my credit card, Phy asked, “You gonna let me in on your sudden need to have a fancy tight dress?”

I turned to her and didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, I figure I better wear fancy tight dresses while I got the chance, seein’ as, in a few months, I’ll be big as a house.”

Phy wasn’t one to show her emotions, she didn’t give much away. She’d learned to hold things close and not expose anything, give anyone a weapon they might use against her.

But Phy was changing. Nearly losing her man a different way and him being made into a hero by town’s talk and his own actions had a way of doing that. Darryl did what he did and he showed his true self, maybe late, but he did it. She found herself in the position of having a man who she could be proud of and her kids having that kind of father. For years, Darryl’d been working hard to show her he was that man but she couldn’t ever trust it. He put his life on the line to save mine and that was different. She wasn’t used to being able to hold her head up high but I could tell she was getting used to it and I could also tell she liked it a lot.

Therefore, when she read my meaning, her eyes went wide then they grew wet.

“You’re serious?”

“Doc told me today.”

“How far along?”

“Ten weeks.”

Phy blinked, I giggled, leaned close and whispered, “Yeah, I think it happened the first time we did it.”

She whistled and said, “Shee-it, Colt’s swimmers must be super-powered.”

I didn’t doubt that, practically everything about Colt seemed super-powered.

I signed the receipt, took the bag and we headed into the mall, making a bee-line toward Jessie’s favorite shoe shop.

“I’m scared,” I told Phy, my eyes on the kids who were wandering ahead of us aimlessly, taking in all they could around the mall, probably wondering what they could ask their Mom to buy them that she wouldn’t say no to.

“Why?” Phy asked and I looked at her.

“I’m not exactly twenty anymore.”

“Women havin’ babies later and later, seems to work for them.”

I looked back at Danny and April. “Yeah, maybe so, but doesn’t seem much works for me and Colt.”

I jumped when Phy’s arm went around my waist and I looked back to her. She wasn’t open and she wasn’t touchy either but now she was close.

“Feb, that was then and this,” she put her other hand to my belly, “is now.”

I pressed my lips together and I felt my own eyes get wet.

She smiled at me as I breathed deep.

Then she dropped her hands, shouted at her kids and we turned into the shoe shop.

“What’s the big to do?” Dee asked, arms crossed, eyes on me, much like Jessie and Meems (though their arms weren’t crossed), all of us scrunched into Mimi’s little office at the back of her coffee shop. “I gotta get back to the bar.”

“Jeez, Dee, you act like that bar’ll crumble to the ground, you’re not in it,” Jessie muttered and Dee swung her eyes to Jessie.

“Yeah, well, I love Darryl, we all love Darryl, we all know why we love Darryl, that don’t mean Darryl can hold down the fort without a little help,” Dee retorted, being generous with her words for, hero or not, once Darryl recovered and got back to work a couple of weeks ago, he had not, unsurprisingly, changed. “Ruthie’s on vacation, Cheryl’s not on until seven, Morrie’s at home with the kids, Jackie’s watchin’ Ned’s babies and Jack’s in the office, payin’ invoices. Not to mention, Feb’s here, actin’ weird and goin’ shoppin’ with Phy, of all people.”

“Yeah,” Jessie’s eyes swung to me and they held accusation clear as day. “Why’re you shoppin’ with Phy?”

“She has the day off and she needs to get out of the house every once in awhile,” I told Jessie.

“But I’m your shopping buddy,” Jessie told me. “Phy’s your movie buddy.”

Since the incident I had taken to spelling Phy’s nursemaiding Darryl by taking her to the movies. When I did this whoever was available, Mom, Dad, even Colt, watched over Danny and April and also Darryl.

“Today, Phy’s my shopping buddy,” I said to Jessie.

“Well, don’t think I’m gonna be your movie buddy. I don’t like goin’ to the theater. You can’t pause the movie if you all of a sudden find you want some Raisinettes,” Jessie decreed.

“Can we get to the point of why Feb’s asked us here at all?” Mimi put in.

“Yeah, I gotta get back,” Dee repeated.

“You said that,” Jessie told her.

“All right, guys,” I cut in, “eyes on me.” When they turned me, I went on. “You have to swear, I tell you this, you keep it a secret, no one, no husbands, no friends, no parents, no sisters, you tell no one, not until nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Got me?”

Their faces had all changed, gone curious and expectant. They were getting used to a February Owens who shared and I found they liked it a whole lot. Since they did, I also found I did it a whole lot more.

“Colt asked you to marry him,” Mimi breathed her very wrong guess.

“Hallelujah!” Dee shouted before I could confirm or, more accurately, deny.

“I get to be Matron of Honor!” Jessie screeched.

Before I could say word one, Mimi turned to her and demanded to know, “Why do you get to be Matron of Honor?”

“I found her first,” Jessie said to Mimi.

“So? You got to be my Matron of Honor and Feb got to be your Maid of Honor and that means I get to be Feb’s Matron of Honor,” Mimi returned.

“Guys,” I tried to interrupt.

Jessie ignored me and said to Mimi, “Yeah, but I still found her first.”

“What you’re sayin’ is, I’m forty-two years old and I’m gonna die not bein’ anyone’s Matron of Honor?” Mimi retorted.

“Guys,” I repeated.

“It ain’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Jessie told her.

“Yeah, so, why you want it so bad?” Meems shot back.

“Guys!” I shouted. “Colt didn’t ask me to marry him. I’m pregnant!”

Everyone’s gaze came to me then they froze.

“What’d you say?” Dee whispered.

“I’m ten weeks pregnant.”

They all stared at me then Meems burst into tears, came forward and yanked me out of my chair and into her arms. Then I felt Jessie get close then Dee, everyone holding onto everyone and Jessie and Dee jumping up and down a bit.

I felt their jumps, their arms, their tears that were now coming through laughter and I suddenly wondered what Angie would have done, she’d lived to see this day. Angie, who knew how I felt about Colt before anyone because I’d confided it to her when we were eleven. Angie, who’d called me and patched things up the minute she heard Colt took me on our first date.

Angie’s life may have worn her down before it was snuffed out but I reckon this news would have lightened the load more than a little even if for just a short time. I didn’t know what to do with that knowledge so, like a lot of shit, I set it aside until there came a quiet time where I could give it to Colt, he could give me a squeeze or a kiss or do something else that only he had the magical power to do and the pain of it would melt away.

They pulled back but all of them kept a hand on me.

“Colt doesn’t know?” Jessie asked.

I shook my head. “We’re goin’ to Costa’s tonight.”

“Perfect,” Dee whispered, tears still shining in her eyes.

“Yeah,” I whispered back, looking at Dee then at Jessie then at Meems, feeling their touch light on me, seeing the wet glistening on their cheeks, their smiles full of joy for me, for Colt, for our future, a future that was bright and I finished with, “Perfect.”

“Thanks for doin’ this,” Colt said to Cheryl as they walked up the front walk to Ned’s house.

“No worries,” Cheryl replied, her eyes on the door.

She’d cut her hair shorter so it just brushed her shoulders. She also regularly wore mini-skirts and high-heeled shoes even working at the bar. Both were her style and both looked good on her. So good, Feb said that Cheryl told her tips at J&J’s were better than her tips stripping. This probably had something to do with the fact that J&J’s was busier than ever seeing as it now was infamously famous and also seeing that neither Feb nor Cheryl were hard to look at, which meant the standard clientele had upped substantially.

“How’s Ethan gettin’ on in his new school?” Colt asked.

So she didn’t have to drive to town from Indy and also drive back in the dead of morning Cheryl had moved into Morrie’s apartment with Jack and Jackie who spent most of their time at Morrie and Dee’s or J&J’s anyway, often looking after Ethan along the way.

“Likin’ it, made some friends, has play dates, friends sleepin’ over, sleepin’ over at friends. He’s at a play date now,” she replied then her neck twisted and she pressed her lips together before she stopped on the front stoop and looked up at Colt. “Moms here know me as workin’ at J&J’s, not a strip club. Got no problem, their kid hangin’ with someone whose Mom works at J&J’s. Back then… well, goes without sayin’, a stripper’s house isn’t the popular choice for a play date.”

“That’s good,” Colt said quietly.

“Yeah, it is,” Cheryl said readily and looked him straight in the eye. “You ain’t gonna like hearin’ this but I gotta say it and I’ll only say it once, yeah?”

Colt figured she was right; he wouldn’t like hearing what she had to say. He’d discovered that when Cheryl wasn’t guarded, and even when she was, she was a straight talker. She was usually pretty cautious with this around Feb, Colt, Morrie, Dee, Ruthie, Jack, Jackie and Darryl, mostly because she liked them all and never guarded against showing that. But she didn’t hesitate unleashing her straight talk on customers. Feb said it was a good trait to have working at a bar but then again, Feb took one look at Cheryl, who’d come into the bar with her son Ethan, and a half second later Feb planted Cheryl firmly under her wing just as Colt suspected she would. Colt figured Cheryl could do just about anything and Feb would accept it.

“Yeah?” Colt prompted, wanting to get it over with, whatever it was.

“He was a crazy, fucked up mess and he did awful shit but, in a way, he led me out of a trap I couldn’t find my way out of and probably never would. I ain’t grateful to him, I’m grateful to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s what brought me here.”

“You brought yourself here,” Colt told her, not giving Denny an inch, no credit, not for any of the good shit that he’d been the undeniable catalyst for kicking off. That sick ass didn’t deserve any and Colt was firmly of the belief that eventually, somehow, for everyone, even Cheryl, it would have all found its way to good without Denny. “You could have made a different decision.”

She just looked at him and remarked, “Not real good at acceptin’ gratitude, are you, Colt?”

Colt gave it back to her straight. “Not real good at talkin’ about Denny Lowe.”

She nodded in understanding. “Like I said, just this once, no more.”

Before Colt could say anything else, Jackie opened the door.

“Get in here quick,” Jackie said, pushing open the screen. “They’re asleep, miracle I got them both down. We time it right, Colt and I can be done and back before they wake up.”

“It’s cool, Jackie, Ethan was a handful, got up to more than three kids. I can handle it,” Cheryl told her, pushing in.

Jackie gave Colt a look that spoke volumes about Ned’s now motherless children and she showed Cheryl around the house, giving instructions as they went. They put their heads into the kids’ room and as all this was happening Colt waited in the living room. When they came back, Jackie and Colt said good-bye to Cheryl and Colt led Jackie to his truck.

When they were on their way, Jackie took in a breath and asked, “You talk to Susie?”

Colt didn’t want to think about Susie. Darryl, Phy, Marty and Joe-Bob’s kids had all handled what happened remarkably well, throwing no blame, which was good since only blame could be settled was on a dead man so it was a waste of emotion. Melanie had been a wreck which wasn’t a surprise. She was in counseling and Colt checked on her a couple of times a week, mostly because Feb nagged him to do so, though if she hadn’t, he still would have done it just maybe not as often. Melanie had been off work for awhile but had finally gone back. She was pulling herself together, she was doing it slowly, which was her way, but at least she was doing it.

Susie, being Susie, hadn’t handled it so well.

“I talked to her.”

“She the one who gave it to that kid from The Star?” Jackie asked.

“Yeah,” Colt answered.

Jackie sighed then said softly, “People work things out in different ways.”

Jackie was wrong or, more likely, she was being generous. Susie wasn’t working anything out. Susie was, as usual, being a bitch.

The only thing that surprised him was the stories printed in The Star laid out the truth about Feb and Colt as far as Susie knew it but there was nothing ugly, nothing mean. Colt figured the way Feb had a lock on the unconscious Susie, clearly in shock, so much, after they took down Denny, they had a job of getting Feb to let her go, Susie absorbed something good from Feb. It was a fanciful notion but since Susie didn’t have many not ugly, not mean bones in her body that was the only way he could figure it.

Jackie changed the subject and remarked, “Don’t know why you aren’t takin’ Jack or Morrie.” She looked from the road to Colt and said, “You know I like me a bike, honey, but pickin’ a Harley is man’s work.”

“We aren’t lookin’ at bikes, Jackie,” Colt told her then pulled into a spot on the street in front of Reinhart’s Jewelry Store, stopped and turned off his truck.

She looked out her window to the store then she looked at Colt then back at the store.

He knew she’d cottoned onto the situation when she dropped her forehead to the window and whispered, “You shoulda brought Cheryl. My fingers are bigger than Feb’s.”

“Your taste’s the exact same, though.”

It was a lie. Jackie’s taste was nothing like Feb’s. She knew it and he knew it. Colt just wanted her there. He knew she knew that too and it took a beat but he heard the hitch in her throat that meant tears and he put his hand to her back.

“Jackie, look at me.”

She took her time but she turned to look at him, tears in her eyes but a shaky smile on her face.

“You know, I was honored, dancin’ the mother’s dance with you at your and Melanie’s wedding,” she whispered.

“Yeah, you told me then.”

He could barely hear her when she said, “I’ll like this one better.”

Colt didn’t say a word before she turned and was out the door and heading to the store.

This was partly because she moved fast.

This was mostly because he couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat.

“All right, you got us both, what’s this about, son?” Jack asked when Morrie closed the office door at J&J’s.

Jack was in the desk chair. Morrie had his shoulders to the door. Colt had his shoulders to the wall.

Colt didn’t mince words. “Just got back from Jackie helpin’ me pick out Feb’s engagement ring.”

Morrie turned and slammed his palm against the wall, giving a whoop.

Jack dropped his head and stared in his lap.

Colt ignored Morrie and called, “Jack.”

“Out,” Jack muttered.

“Dad?” Morrie called.

“Out,” Jack repeated and they both heard it.

Colt looked at Morrie to see Morrie was looking at him. Without another word, they walked out.

Ignoring the fact that they left Jack in the office crying, something they’d never seen in their life and something they were both pretty fucking happy they hadn’t really seen then, Morrie asked Colt, “You wanna beer?”

“Nope, got shit to do.”

Morrie scooted behind the bar and Colt stopped at the side of it.

“You told Sully?” Morrie asked.

Colt’s felt his brows draw together and annoyance hitting him. “Before I told you and Jack?”

“Just askin’,” Morrie muttered.

“Shit, Morrie, seriously?”

“Already did best man duties at one of your weddings. I figure –”

One of his weddings?

“Don’t fuck with me, Morrie,” Colt warned.

“You two are close.”

“Yeah, close enough for him to be in the wedding party. Shit, Morrie, you’re gonna be my fuckin’ brother-in-law.”

Morrie’s head jerked as this knowledge dawned on him then he grinned. “Yeah.”

“And you’ve been my best friend since I was five.”

Morrie’s grin got bigger. “Yeah again.”

“So don’t fuck with me.”

“Dude, be cool,” Morrie said, still grinning.

Colt shook his head and rapped his knuckles on the bar, moving to leave. “Gotta go.”

“Colt, wait,” Morrie called, Colt stopped and turned to his friend, “I’m happy for you.”

Colt nodded and smiled. “Thanks, man.”

“I’m happier for her,” Morrie said quietly and Colt felt his neck twist.

“Right.”

“Thank you for bringin’ her back.”

“Morrie.”

“I missed her, man.”

“Morrie.”

“Dad did too.”

“Stop, Morrie.”

“Dude, just sayin’ –”

Colt cut him off and put an end to that particular conversation. “You’re welcome.”

Morrie nodded then declared, “If you don’t play ‘Mony Mony’ at the reception, I’m boycotting.”

Colt moved to leave, shaking his head again. “I’ll make note of that.”

“And ‘Shout’,” Morrie yelled at Colt’s back, Colt lifted a hand a flicked out his fingers, “and ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’,” Morrie went on and Colt stopped and turned to him.

“It’s a wedding reception, Morrie, not a fuckin’ 80’s flashback.”

Morrie’s eyes swept the bar and when they hit Colt he was grinning again.

Colt reckoned about fifty cell phones were now being dialed. He was still shaking his head when he walked out the front door and he didn’t care that news was right then sweeping town, not at all.

Colt sat on the top of picnic table at Arbuckle Acres Park, his feet on the bench and he watched his mother walk up to him, as always, clutching her purse.

When she got close, he called, “Hey Ma.”

Her smile was small and hesitant, as always, when she replied, “Hey Alec.”

He watched as she sat on the bench by his feet, her eyes to the ground.

“How’re you gettin’ on?” he asked her and her head came up but her hand never quit clutching the strap on her purse.

“Where’s Feb?” she asked back instead of answering.

“Don’t know. She’s been kind of busy.”

Her eyes slid to look over his shoulder and she muttered, “She usually comes with you.”

“I needed to talk to you alone today.”

Her eyes slid back to his and then skidded over his shoulder.

“Everything okay?” she asked the sky over his shoulder.

“Everything’s good.”

“Feb okay?”

“Yeah.”

“The family?”

“We’re all fine, Ma.”

She nodded then looked back at the ground. “Your Dad’s home.”

“You told me that last time, Ma.”

“He’s doin’ good, stayin’ sober, just like me.”

“Glad to hear it,” Colt said and he was, at least he was glad to hear it about her.

“He said he wants you to think about lettin’ him come, next time you call.”

Colt shook his head. “Ma –”

“Just think, Alec. Next time we talk then you can tell me, okay?”

Colt kept shaking his head. “Don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

She looked at him and said, “Talk to Feb about it.”

“Ma –”

“Just promise me you’ll talk to Feb, please, Alec?”

Colt looked at his mother. Two months ago, Mary Colton had helped to save three lives, one was precious to him and the other two, in one way or another, meaningful to him though Melanie more so. There were a few very unlikely heroes in that town, Darryl was one of them, Mary Colton another. But both changed their earned reputations proving that deep down they had something that made those reputations false.

For that reason, he said, “I’ll talk to Feb but, you should know, even if I do, the answer is unlikely to change.”

“I know,” she whispered and her eyes yet again slid away.

“I’m askin’ her to marry me,” Colt told her and her gaze shot right back.

She was still whispering when she asked, “What?”

“Tonight.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed and her hand came to his knee.

She hadn’t touched him, not since they started to meet there at the park, almost always with Feb bringing coffees and treats from Mimi’s or a packed lunch. It didn’t matter to Feb that it wasn’t 911 that pointed them to Susie’s house, but Colt’s mother, Feb would have come with him anyway if he wanted to meet his mother. But Colt did wonder if she’d bring coffees, baked goods or packed lunches if Mary Colton hadn’t helped to save her life.

Though, he guessed she would.

Colt put his hand on his mother’s at his knee, her body jerked and she tried to pull her hand away but his fingers curled around hers holding it tight.

He caught her eyes and kept her gaze, speaking softly. “I don’t want to hurt you but you gotta know, I’m dancin’ the mother son dance with Jackie.” She closed her eyes and he squeezed her hand until she opened them again then he continued. “But, you stay sober, I want you there. Not him, just you. Yeah?”

She nodded and he squeezed her hand again.

“Will you…” her voice was choked, she cleared her throat and her hand jerked in his but he kept his hold firm. She pulled in breath through her nose and asked, “I don’t… well, we both know I don’t deserve that dance but will you dance another dance with me?”

“Yeah,” Colt replied without hesitation.

Her hand twitched in his and she repeated, “Yeah?”

“You stay sober, then, yeah.”

“I’ll stay sober, son,” she promised.

“I reckon you will,” he told her and again her hand twitched.

He’d never believed in her, never.

Then again she’d never stayed sober this long and she’d never saved Feb’s life so he figured he owed her that.

She pressed her lips together, sucked in breath through her nostrils, keeping control but just barely then she nodded and she squeezed his hand.

“You need money?” Colt asked.

“We’re good,” she said quickly.

Colt tugged gently on her hand. “Ma, you need money?”

She pulled in another breath through her nose, shook her head and said softly, “We’re good, honey.”

“Call me, you do.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe next time you can come over to the house, have dinner.”

He watched her swallow then nod. “I’d like that.”

He gave her one last squeeze and then let her hand go, pushing up, he jumped off the table and she stood up.

As he walked beside her to her car, she asked, “Feb a good cook?”

“Yeah, though she mostly cooks breakfast. Dinner we usually have Frank’s at the bar. Or Reggie’s.”

“Frank’s a better cook than most everyone I know.”

“That’s the truth.”

“And Reggie’s is the best pizza I’ve had in my life and I used to live in Chicago so you know what that means.”

“I do.”

She stopped at the driver’s side door and before she could do it Colt leaned in and opened it for her.

She didn’t get in. She tipped her head back and looked at him.

“You happy, Colt?”

He felt his body jerk and he blinked.

She’d never called him Colt.

He covered his surprise and the strangely welcome feeling he felt at her calling him by what he considered his true name by answering, “Yeah.”

She nodded. “All a mother can ask,” she put her hand on top of his, his was resting on top of the door, and she dipped her face, looking into the car and muttering under her breath, “love you, son.”

Then she quickly folded herself into the car and, without looking at him, grabbed the handle, slammed the door, started the car and pulled away. She was ten car lengths away before she got the courage to toot her horn.

When Colt heard it, he couldn’t bite back his smile.

Colt opened the front door, entered and shouted over the loud music, “Baby, I’m home.”

“Be right out,” he heard Feb’s words coming down the hall.

Wilson trotted into the room, stopped, looked at Colt and let out a loud meow.

“Quiet, cat,” he muttered and Wilson replied with a louder meow.

Colt shrugged off his blazer then his shoulder holster. He hooked the blazer around the back of a dining table chair, threw the holster on the table and then he unclipped his badge and threw that on it too. He hit the kitchen and saw the remote for the stereo sitting by Feb’s cell phone. He picked up the remote, pointed it into the den and turned down the music. Then he looked at her cell phone and was grateful for the music, seeing as she had twelve missed calls, all of them likely about them playing “Livin’ on a Prayer” at their wedding reception, a reception Feb didn’t know about yet. Then Colt went to the cupboard with the cat treats and Wilson let out another loud meow.

Colt shook the treats into his palm then he threw one into the living room. Wilson watched it go until he lost sight then he ran after it. Colt couldn’t see the cat but he heard another meow and he sent another treat sailing and heard Wilson’s cat feet chasing after it.

This happened twice more before Feb’s voice came from the hall again.

“You’re making him fat.”

She was right. This had come to be Colt and Wilson’s habit when Colt got home and Wilson was getting fat. Feb had put a limit on three treats a night. Colt and Wilson ignored that limit and jacked it up to six. This was mostly because, if Colt didn’t go to six, Wilson wouldn’t shut up.

“He’s fine,” Colt said, his hand up about to throw another treat before Feb hit the room and he saw her.

She was wearing a skintight, dark purple dress and a pair of high-heeled, sexy sandals. Her makeup was heavier than normal and nearly as sexy as her shoes. Her hair was partially sleeked but it had more wave and volume than usual and it was far sexier than her shoes. Colt felt the vision of her score a path from his lungs, through his gut, straight to his dick.

He’d been right. She had something planned tonight and he sure as fuck wasn’t letting her steal his goddamned thunder.

“That’s quite a dress,” he remarked when he could speak again then Wilson meowed, he threw the cat treat and Wilson’s paws could be heard scampering after it.

“That’s enough treats,” Feb replied, stopping opposite the dining table and putting her hands to her hips which meant the material at her tits stretched tight and he felt that in his dick too.

He shook out another treat and sent it sailing.

“Colt!” Feb snapped

“Come here,” Colt replied.

Her eyes went to the microwave and then back to his. “You’re late. It’s six forty-five. We’ve gotta go.”

Colt put the lid back on the treats and set it on the counter before he repeated, “Come here, Feb.”

She ignored him and said, “Can I drive?”

“No,” Colt answered. “Come here.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Why can’t I drive?”

“Deal was you could have that car as long as I don’t have to get in it. Remember?”

“That was a stupid deal,” she muttered.

“You agreed to it.”

“I was coerced,” she shot back and this was true. She’d played him using her shoes, her hands, her mouth, her ass, her pussy, her lacy teddy and the pool table and, after she got what she wanted, he’d played her right back.

Her hands went from her hips to cross on her chest. “Come on, Colt, it’s a new car. I like drivin’ it.”

“We’re goin’ somewhere, anywhere, I drive and I don’t drive a fuckin’ Beetle.”

She rolled her eyes saying, “You’re such a man.”

This was true too but Colt decided not to agree to something that was obvious.

“Feb, not gonna say it again,” Colt warned her. “Come here.”

He watched as her eyes locked on him and her body locked too.

Then she asked, “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“Feb –” he started.

But she muttered, “Oh all right,” dropped her arms and walked to him in the kitchen. As she did so, he put his hand in his pocket, palmed the ring there and pulled his hand back out.

She stopped in front of him, tipped her head back and asked, “What?”

Colt leaned his hips back against the counter and looked at her.

There had been a time in his life when he knew without a doubt this moment would come and then there was a time in his life when he knew without a doubt this moment would never come. The first he took for granted. The second had cut so deep, it’d been raw for decades and he’d had to learn, with some difficulty, to ignore it.

When he was twenty-two, he’d had thoughts of tulips and candlelight and even getting down on his knee.

Now that the time was there, he didn’t mind that he was going to do it in a kitchen with his hips against the counter and Feb impatient to get to Costa’s so she could do what he was just then going to do. He knew from the way she behaved at the Station that she wanted to talk about marriage and he wasn’t about to let her do it without his ring on her finger.

“You know I love you,” he told her and her ear dipped to her shoulder just as her eyes went soft and her lips tipped up.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Love you enough to let you get that damned car,” he said and the softness went out of her face.

“I’m thinkin’ the word ‘let’ when you’re talkin’ about me should be banished from this house,” she declared and Colt grinned.

“Love you enough to let you spend your money on my garage.”

“Our garage.”

“Instead of heels.”

“Colt, hello?” she called. “Black, red…” she pointed to her feet, “now matte silver.”

“Matte silver?” Colt repeated, still grinning.

“The color of my shoes,” she informed him and he looked down.

“Is that what that’s called?”

“Like you care,” she mumbled and he looked back at her.

“You’re right, I don’t care.”

She rolled her eyes and his hand shot out, nabbing her behind her neck and pulling her forward. She lost her balance and landed full-body against him, her hands at his waist, fingers curled into the material of his shirt there as his other arm snaked around her waist.

He wrapped his fist in her hair and tugged her head back. “Love it when you roll your eyes, baby,” he whispered and her expression grew soft again.

“What’s got into you tonight?” she whispered back, her eyes searching his face. “You’re acting weird.”

“I want it big,” he answered and those dents formed at her brows again. “The biggest.”

“Want what big?”

“Our wedding.”

She closed her eyes and lifted her brows and when she opened them again, his right hand took her left and pulled it in front of them. He watched her eyes drop to their hands but he didn’t take his from hers so he could watch the wonder that stole into her features as he slid his ring on her finger.

When he’d seated the ring at the base, he repeated quietly, “The biggest.”

“Colt,” she whispered to their hands, her eyes on the diamond there.

“Food, a band, dancing, a shitload of flowers and you in a white dress,” Colt told her, pressing her hand flat to his chest and her eyes went to his as his arm curled back around her waist to hold her body close.

“Colt.”

“We’re ridin’ away on a Harley, though.”

“Colt.”

“Honeymoon on a beach.”

“Colt.”

His head came down and he put his mouth to hers. “I’m gonna fuck you in the sand under the stars.”

Both her hands curled around his neck, her fingers going into his hair and she whispered, “Colt.”

“You gonna marry me, baby?”

She tipped her head so their foreheads were pressed together and she rubbed her nose along the side of his before she said, “Yeah.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth and he muttered, “Good.”

Before he could kiss her, she pulled her head away.

“Can I say something?” she asked.

“After I kiss you.”

“No, before.”

“What?”

“I just have one question to ask.”

“The answer is yes.”

Her lips tipped up, her face got that soft look yet again and Colt’s hand tightened automatically in her hair as his arm at her waist gave her a squeeze.

“That’s good,” she whispered.

“What’s good?” he asked.

“That the answer is yes. ‘Cause, see, I still wanna name our son Jack or, if it’s a girl, our daughter Jacqueline.”

Colt’s body turned to stone, his mind blanked, his stomach dropped but his mouth moved to form one, quiet word. “What?”

“If the baby I’m carrying is a boy, I want to name him –”

Feb didn’t get to finish because before she could Colt yanked her even closer, took her mouth with his and he kissed her.

The phone rang and Stavros Costa rushed to it.

“Costa’s,” he answered.

“Stavros, it’s Colt.”

Stavros looked down at his reservation book then up at the clock then he rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming.

“You’re cancelling,” Stavros said into the phone. “Again,” he finished.

“We’re on our way.”

“It’s nine o’clock, you’re two hours late.”

“Coupla things came up.”

“I gave your table away, Colt, an hour ago.”

“Got another one?”

“Colt –”

Stavros heard Colt cut in. “February’s wearin’ my ring and carryin’ my baby, Stavros.” Stavros sucked in breath at this long awaited, very welcome, unbelievably happy news and Colt finished. “Now, you got a table or what?”

Stavros grinned into the phone. “Don’t got one, I’ll build one.”

He put down the phone on Alexander Colton’s laughter.