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"Cain?" Andrew walked inside and more like barged his way into the conversation. The doctor rose. He gave Andrew a nod and then walked out. Andrew's eyes returned to Cain. "What's going on with Maryanne? What did that doctor say?"
Cain leaned forward.
Did he cause this? Did he force her to do something so horrible?
"Cain? What is it?"
"She lost the baby," he answered in disbelief. He looked up and Andrew aged before him. The blood drained from his father in-law's face.
Andrew struggled for a moment and then composed himself. "Okay, well this happens. It'll be okay. She'll be okay."
"She won't be able to have any more kids." Cain rose. He glared at Andrew. The visibly stricken man took a step back. He shook his head in denial. Always with the f.u.c.king denial! "She did this to herself, Andrew." Cain nodded, forcing the old patriarch to digest the news. "No kids, no legacy, no nothing. They ripped out her uterus and no amount of money can put it back," he said, though his throat clogged with emotion and tears coursed down his cheeks.
"No," Andrew said hollowly.
"Yes! She did it to herself! And do you know why?" Cain shouted.
"No," Andrew answered. "No I don't know why Maryanne would do this!"
"I'm sitting here thinking on it. What is so f.u.c.ked up in her head that she would hurt herself intentionally?" he shouted at Andrew. "It can't be just to get back at me. There's something wrong. Something I've ignored. Something you buried. What the f.u.c.k is it!"
"Where is she...where's Maryanne?" Andrew turned away. Cain grabbed him by the throat and threw him into the wall. Andrew's eyes bulged out of their sockets as he tightened his chokehold.
"What is it d.a.m.n it?" Cain spat spittle over Andrew's face, his so close their noses almost touched. "What did you do to her that made her this way, you sick f.u.c.k? What?" he slammed his father in-law's head back into the wall.
"Stop it!" Bonnie screamed. She ran over, beating her fists against Cain's shoulders and arms. Cain wanted desperately to snap the man's neck like a twig. He teetered close to that edge. To do so, would cost him even more. He let Andrew go. The old man coughed and gagged as he sucked in deep needed breaths. Bonnie helped her husband. She looked at Cain as if he was the mad man. Cain stormed off.
Tears covered Cain's face, but he wasn't crying. The tears came with no rhyme or reason. They flowed. He knew something wasn't right with Maryanne. He knew it all along and he ignored it. He had seen the coldness in her and the way she clung desperately to everything false in their life. And Simone warned him. She said Maryanne had secrets and to find out what was truly wrong in his marriage before he tossed his wife away. He didn't. He was too selfish and too much like his mother to see his role in it all.
Now this?
Cain threw open her hospital door. What happened to the girl he married, the one he loved? When did she disappear?
Joan's hand waved high above the sea of bobbing heads. Simone smiled, spotting her at the back of the bar in a booth seat positioned well enough to remain close, yet reserved from the others drinking and socializing. Why Joan chose a trendy bar in the heart of the city at seven o'clock was beyond her. But as she drew near, she realized how much in need of this reunion she was. The day was a rollercoaster of a day. The night surely promised to be the same.
After tucking the kids in, Simone got the call to meet Joan. Her friend had come to New York to see about her. Simone tried to talk her into visiting her at the house, but Joan wanted her to get out. So she took a chance that was never taken with Diane. She left her mother in charge of the twins so she could meet her friend for a drink. Simone had nervously called back to the house six times between the drive into Manhattan and now. She would have to trust her instincts and trust her mother.
"Look at you!" Joan said, as she made her way over. She hurried to her and threw her arms around her, kissing her cheek. "You look stunning," Joan gushed.
Simone didn't feel quite that way. She smoothed down her hair and sat. "Thanks. What are you doing here? I was so surprised you came."
"I came to check on my girl, and to get away from my sp.a.w.n." Joan winked, sipping her martini. She waved at the waitress. "She'll have a cosmopolitan."
Simone rolled her eyes. "What is this, drink number..."
"Never mind that. Details, girl. Where are we? Keith Livingston's b.a.l.l.s in a vice yet?"
"As if you don't know." Simone chuckled. "I know you've been checking up on me."
Joan winked.
"Tomorrow his b.a.l.l.s are in a vice," Simone smiled.
"Good! Whew! I'm so excited for you. Hold on-" Joan reached for her blackberry. "Oh gossip alert. Fluffy is putting out the news on the latest. One second, let's see who got caught f.u.c.king the gardener or who has herpes now."
"Joan! How many of those martinis have you really had?" Simone laughed aloud.
Joan grinned, thumbing through her message.
"Simone?" a deep baritone of a voice spoke over the noise of the crowd. Simone's head turned. It was Derrick Alverson, the detective. He stepped in closer, a drink in his hand. His smile, bright, flashed like a 1000-watt light bulb. "Oh? Detective Alverson. This is my friend Joan."
When Simone looked back across the table she saw Joan's naughty smile in her gossip search had been replaced with a frown.
"Is something wrong?" Simone asked.
Joan put her phone away but Simone noticed. Joan's attention was riveted to the handsome officer. She extended her hand with a s.e.xy smile. "Hi, handsome, how are you?"
"Nice to meet you." He shook her hand.
"Joan this is Detective Derrick Alverson, Derrick, this is my best friend Joan."
"I didn't want to disturb you, ladies. I saw you come in and thought I'd speak. Simone, it was good to see you again," he said.
She looked from his eyes to Joan's who were fixed on her curiously. She nodded to Derrick. "Okay, yes, nice to see you too," she said now uncomfortable. His gaze lingered on her a little longer. He nodded and then slipped away.
"He's cute. Nice a.s.s." Joan leaned to the side to watch him go.
"What was the gossip?" Simone asked as the waitress set her pink martini down with the lemon peel curled at the bottom of the gla.s.s.
"Nothing, idle gossip. Who was s.e.xy chocolate?"
"Detective. I filed a protective order against Keith today. He should get it right after he's served."
"Cheers!" Joan said, lifting her gla.s.s.
Simone giggled and toasted her. She sipped her martini, but eyed her friend's purse. Her stomach seemed to twist as anxiety cooled the blood in her veins. Something was wrong. She could feel it.
"How's your sister?" Joan asked.
"Kim? She's doing okay. I think. I can't wait to have her back with us."
"That's good, hun. So glad to hear," Joan said.
"Joan? What was the message on the phone? I saw your face. Was it Cain?"
Her friend sighed. "Let's just have some drinks."
"Tell me."
"Why?" Joan asked unable to mask her frustration.
"Because I asked. Stop it, Joan. If there is something I need to know, say it."
"Maybe you don't. Maybe you need to have a drink with your friend and talk about that s.e.xy black cop or how much this city is going to s.h.i.t with all these d.a.m.n uptight yuppies and watered down drinks. Where are the real New Yorkers anymore?"
"Joan!"
"Maryanne. She's in the hospital."
"Why?" Simone touched her chest.
"She lost their baby."
The words. .h.i.t her hard, like a punch to the gut. Simone dropped back in her booth seat, shaking her head no. Joan looked down into her drink. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I know you didn't know."
"Pregnant?" Simone mumbled.
Joan nodded. "Cain didn't tell you?"
"I need to call him. He must be devastated!" she grabbed her phone and made to slip out of the booth.
"Freeze. Sit your little a.s.s back down. Now!" Joan ordered. Simone did as she was told. Joan looked at her with concern. "Are you still in contact with him?"
"Not really. He sent me a letter, money, but we have tried to respect each other with s.p.a.ce. He needs me."
"Jesus Christ! You're still in love with him, aren't you?"
"It's only been a few weeks, Joan. Of course I am."
"Hey! Cut it out!" Joan snapped. "You love you first. Remember? You, Simone. That's what this is about. The man is bad news, I told you."
Simone shook her head. "You don't understand."
"Hey toots!" Joan yelled at the pa.s.sing waitress, "Can I get another f.u.c.king drink before I die of thirst!"
"What is wrong with you yelling out at the lady like that?" Simone asked.
"I'm sorry, but I'm seriously p.i.s.sed off with you, sweetie. Listen to me. There are things you don't know about Cain Gatlin. For one, his mother is a con-artist. Do you hear me? He scammed his way into that family and now he's conning you!"
"That's enough!" Simone hissed. "I know you think you're protecting me, but you aren't! He's a lot of things, and for that matter so am I. What we have isn't fake or some figment of my imagination. He's hurting now. I love him. I want to help him."
"At what cost? You are so close to being free of Keith."
"It's my life, Joan!" Simone put her hand to her forehead. "I haven't seen or spoken to him directly. I've followed Sue's orders. I have! We ended it. That doesn't mean that I don't love him and that I don't want him still."
Joan reached across the table and took her hand. "I'm sorry. I am. My mouth can get me in so much s.h.i.t. Writing checks I can't cash. You are dear to me, Simone. I see myself in you in so many ways. But you're right. It's your life. I'm not trying to be just another person trying to tell you how to live it. I want to be your friend. I just think that you could really start again, free of the bulls.h.i.t."
"I know. I know I have some bad habits. I know I put others before myself, that I lead with my heart and that I haven't dealt with the reality of it all. I know I'm pretending not to be scared of Keith. Pretending that he won't bring h.e.l.l into the lives of everyone I love when he gets those divorce papers. I know that my family has no clue of all the s.h.i.t I've covered up over the years in trying to hold on to that marriage to that man that didn't deserve me. This is my fresh start. But Cain is different. He truly is."
Joan gave her a sad smile. "I've never asked before, but I'm asking now. Tell me, about you and Cain?"
Simone smiled through her tears over her friend's sincerity. She nodded, squeezed her friends hand. Joan was a good friend to her. The only one she had, and she wanted that relationship to grow.
"Okay," she sniffed, smiled. "Did you know that Cain knows how to play the tuba?"
"Fatboy tuba?" Joan frowned.
"Yes! I said the same thing. One day when I was in the yard and he came out in his and he played the thing. He nearly scared me to death."
Joan shook her head. "I'll give it to him. That man is definitely one of a kind.
"Cain?"
His head lifted. Bonnie stood at the other side of Maryanne's bed. He'd sunk deeper into despair, holding to his wife's hand, waiting for her to wake. He hadn't noticed Bonnie had entered the room.
"Has she opened her eyes? Anything?"
"No. Andrew?"
"He left," Bonnie said, her voice tight with restraint. "He couldn't handle it. That's what he does you know? Ignore the things he refuses to accept."
Cain had choked the man. There would be consequences for his actions. At that moment, he was so emotionally whipped he didn't care. Bonnie went for the other chair. She looked equally beat. The rare moments when his mother in-law was sober were always somber ones. This wasn't any different. She sat down and looked at Maryanne, never taking her eyes off her daughter. "She wanted this baby, for you."
"No she didn't. When she found out that nothing would change between us with this baby, she destroyed it and herself," Cain said bitterly.
"You don't understand her, Cain," Bonnie said sadly.
"The doctors say she probably will sleep through the night." He let go of Maryanne's hand, dropping back in the chair. Cain stroked his brow as he spoke. "I understand my wife. She wanted the baby to hold on to me. Now she thinks losing the baby will hold on to me."
"She loves you, Cain, more than anything. So, yes, she did this to herself to keep you. She's desperate."
"She's sick, Bonnie!"
Bonnie's eyes dropped away. "That's my fault. I'm her mother. I should have protected her. I failed her."
"It's your protection and Andrew's that makes her think that her actions don't have consequences. That she can do whatever and to whomever she wants. She could have bled to death."
"You don't know her side of the story," Bonnie said.
"I know enough!"
"No! You don't! This is because of what we didn't do, Andrew and me. All of it is because of what we didn't do. Her marriage to you, her refusal to give you a son or daughter was all about her refusal to give Andrew an heir. He's been pressuring her, making threats."
"Who? Andrew? I'm her husband!"