The late-afternoon sun bounced off the windows of the toolshed the following Friday. Laura took a deep breath of the air, lifting her face to the sky. She needed to be in her garden. She was coiled up tight. Even yoga stretches hadn’t helped. Time out here might.
Noting the grass was growing long, she remembered the gardener would be mowing and trimming tomorrow. Wes brought his mower and tools for the work he did. She kept implements of her own in the shed along with the extra patio chairs. Although she rarely had the time, once in a while she liked to plant a bed of flowers herself, weed the garden, feel the earth in her hands. She hadn’t tended to her favorite flower bed, with its rosebushes and daisies, since the end of last summer.
When the lock on the shed released, Laura opened the door and stepped inside. The heat within the small building brought warmth to her cheeks.
She selected a hoe and clippers, and was ready to carry them outside, when she decided to dig in the old chest for her mother-in-law’s short gardening spade. It was an antique now, but she cherished it because she and Anna had shared the same love of flowers.
Laura raised the lid and was rummaging in the dark interior for the tool she wanted, when she felt a paper bag. At least, that was what she thought it was.
What was that doing in here?
Lifting out the parcel, she felt three hard bulges, like small bottles. Her heart raced as she set down the other tools, picked up the bag and unfolded the top. Inside she found a bottle of scotch, Jack Daniel’s and one of vodka. She’d seen the tiny bottles in hotel minibars.
Setting them aside, she rummaged through the rest of the chest but didn’t find anything else that shouldn’t be there.
Could they be Wes’s? Hardly. He could keep liquor stashed with his equipment on his trailer, in his pickup…. He’d never shown one symptom of being an alcoholic.
Sean, on the other hand…
She had to know if these were Sean’s. Maybe his drinking hadn’t stopped last summer. Maybe these bottles were evidence that something bigger was going on. It was possible in addition to these small bottles, he had a fifth stashed someplace else. This weekend she and Brady had planned to sit down with him to find out how serious he was about graphic design. But now another type of discussion was more important.
Not bothering to relock the shed, she hurried into the house. As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, she told herself not to panic. She told herself to respect Sean’s privacy.
She told herself she had to tear up his room.
At the landing, she warned herself to calm down. If she searched Sean’s room and found a bottle, what good would that do? Yes, she’d have proof. But at the end of the day, how much would that help? Instead of sorting through drawers and tearing apart her son’s closet—which she could always do later if she had to—she hurried to Kat’s room. Her daughter had been at the computer since she’d come home from school.
Kat’s bedroom door was cracked open a couple of inches. Laura knocked.
“Come on in,” Kat called.
When Laura pushed the door open, her gaze slid away from the huge Jesse McCartney poster on the wall and went to her daughter.
Kat didn’t turn around but said over her shoulder, “If I had a new computer like Sean’s, downloading music would be a lot faster.”
Sean’s graduation present had been a laptop for college. “Didn’t Dad say he’d update your computer for you?”
Kat wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. But maybe I can get a new one next year?”
Instead of answering, Laura lifted shorts, jeans and T-shirt from the bedroom chair, laid them on the bed and pulled the chair closer to Kat. “I want to talk to you.”
Kat swung away from the computer. “What about?”
Laura held up the bag. “Have you ever seen this?”
“No. What is it?” Her daughter sounded…wary.
Laura extracted the three bottles and laid them side by side on her lap. “Do you know what these are?”
Kat licked her lips, looked uncomfortable and replied, “Yeah. They’re booze.”
“Do you know anything about them?”
“No!” Kat seemed genuinely outraged. “I’ve never seen them before.”
“Are they Sean’s?” Laura asked softly, needing her daughter to confide in her if she knew anything.
Kat stared down at the floor and then shrugged. “Where did you find them?”
“In the shed.”
“Maybe they belong to Wes. Maybe after he cuts the grass he swigs.”
Laura kept her turmoil from showing. “I don’t think so. If he wanted to drink, he could keep a bottle in his truck. And I’ve never seen any evidence that he’s a drinker. He’s a hard worker. He’s always here when he says he’s going to be and never shirks what has to be done.”
Her daughter remained silent.
The less said, the less she’d incriminate anyone? “Do you know if Sean’s drinking?” she prodded.
Kat looked up and away from her mother. “How should I know?”
“I think you might know things your dad and I don’t.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I don’t know anything.”
“If Sean is drinking, he could be in trouble.”
Kat faced her again. “What kind of trouble?”
“If he becomes dependent on alcohol to solve his problems, he’ll never solve them.”
Kat stared at the computer screen once more. “I don’t know what Sean does when he’s not here.”
“What about when he is here?”
“Maybe you’ve got this all wrong, Mom. Maybe he’s holding them for someone else and didn’t know where to put them. Maybe someone gave them to him and he didn’t want them in the house.”
“There are garbage cans in the back.”
Giving her a really elaborate shrug, Kat shook her head again. “I don’t know anything, Mom.”
Laura’s maternal radar was on alert. Kat had seemed genuinely surprised to see the bottles of liquor, but Laura believed her daughter was holding something back. Was she protecting her brother?
If Laura searched Sean’s room, there would be no going back. She really should discuss the situation with Brady first. Wait until tonight? She had an urgent feeling about this and didn’t think it should wait.
“Will you be okay here for a little while? I need to talk to your dad about this.”
“I’m old enough to stay here alone.”
Although Laura felt pushed to talk with Brady, she had to take time for Kat. “You know, there’s a reason I worry about you being here alone, other than a safety issue.”
Her daughter’s expression was curious.
“I don’t ever want you to feel lonely or afraid.” When she and Brady had adopted Kat, she’d been only two months old. Her mother had died in childbirth and her father had been in a fatal motorcycle accident a month later. Laura had vowed to give this child, like Sean, all the care and love she herself had missed when she’d lost her own parents.
Kat thought that over. “Were you lonely or afraid when you were my age?”
Her daughter was very perceptive sometimes. “Yes, I was. After I went to live with my aunt.”
“I forget you didn’t have your mom or dad when you were growing up. That had to be tough. If you and Dad weren’t here, it would be so strange. I mean, I think about Tracey Davidson. She only has her mom now.”
Kat knew the story of her adoption—that her birth parents had died. But they hadn’t been real people to her. Her life had begun the day Laura and Brady had brought her home.
Leaning forward, Laura pushed Kat’s curly hair behind her ear. “Your dad’s going to take care of himself now. Hopefully we’ll both be around for a long time.”
“Dad’s heart attack changed everything. He’s different. You’re different. Sean’s different.”
“We all got scared. And I’m worried that’s why Sean might be drinking.”
“When he goes to college, you won’t be able to do anything about whether he drinks or not.”
“No, I won’t.”
Kat chewed on her lower lip. “There’s beer at the parties he goes to.”
“I guessed that,” Laura said mildly, waiting for her daughter to open up more.
She motioned to the bottles in Laura’s lap. “Maybe he just wanted to celebrate graduating and all.”
“Maybe he did.”
Kat pushed her chair away from Laura’s. “I’m going to see what’s in the fridge.”
Reading the signs, Laura realized this discussion with Kat was over. She gathered up the bottles and rose to her feet. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”
Brady had thirty seconds left on the treadmill when he saw Laura come into the rehab center. She was beautiful, even in a T-shirt and jeans. His body responded to the sight of her, and he suddenly wished he could shower and change before he talked to her.
He stepped down from the treadmill and took his pulse as he’d been trained to do, noticing the slight elevation from the number he’d gotten his last workout session. After he wiped his face with his towel, he flung it around his neck.
Abruptly he realized Laura shouldn’t really be here. She’d told him she was going to spend the afternoon at home, puttering around the garden. Even though Wes Rossi did a superb job of gardening for them, she always liked to add her touches.
As she approached him, he asked, “Is something wrong?”
She opened her leather hobo bag and let him look inside. “I found these in the toolshed.”
He recognized what the bottles held instantly. “Did you ask Sean about them?” There was no doubt in Brady’s mind that they belonged to his son.
“He’s at Boyd’s.” She glanced around at the recovering patients. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe I’m overreacting, but I thought we should tackle this…right away. I asked Kat if Sean’s been drinking, but she wouldn’t give me a straight answer.”
“Did you check his room?”
“Should I? That’s why I had to talk to you. I didn’t want to interrupt your workout, but I knew you were stopping at your office afterward.”
His wife was apologizing for interrupting him. When had that started? When had they become more like strangers living together than husband and wife? His heart attack had shone a light on the lives they were living and he couldn’t and shouldn’t turn it off. Not if he wanted his marriage to work again.
Suddenly Laura’s gaze left his and fixed on something or someone over his shoulder. When Brady glanced around, he saw Dr. Gregano walking toward them. Brady had noticed him earlier, talking to one of the exercise physiologists.
As the cardiologist approached them, Brady saw Laura bite her lower lip. She did that when she was uncertain or uncomfortable or…nervous. Why would she be nervous?
The doctor smiled at both of them. “Brady…Laura. How are you doing today?”
The doctor had called Brady by his first name from the day Brady was coherent enough to appreciate his visit in the hospital. When had the physician begun calling Laura by her first name?
“Getting stronger every day,” Brady assured him.
“Good. I looked over your progress report. You’re right on target.”
Laura was still silent and her cheeks were flushed. Brady was acutely aware of Gregano’s gaze meeting hers…of their glances holding a few seconds too long…of Laura looking away. What in the hell was going on?
Jumping in finally, Laura asked the doctor, “Have you been back to the bagel shop?” To Brady she explained, “Dr. Gregano and I ran into each other when I bought those bagels last Saturday.”
So they hadn’t had a clandestine meeting, just a chance one? Brady didn’t like the vibrations he was picking up. He didn’t like the way the doctor’s eyes gentled when he gazed at Laura. Gregano was at least ten years younger than she was, not that it mattered. Or maybe it did.
“Actually, I stopped in yesterday on my way home,” Gregano replied.
Keeping his attention focused on the doctor, Brady asked, “Do you live in the east end?”
“I do. I’m in an apartment right now. I’m not home very much. But I’m considering buying a house closer to the hospital.”
“Brady grew up in a house on Sleepy Hollow Road.”
“I looked at a few properties back there. One on Highland. I’m going through it again tonight.”
Brady listened carefully to the interchange. It sounded as though Laura hadn’t known where the doctor lived. Maybe nothing was going on.
But when he saw Dr. Gregano’s gaze fall on Laura again, there was definite interest there.
Whether it was ego or pride or simply male territorial behavior, Brady had the urge to claim his wife.
“I should be going,” Laura said. “I told Kat I wouldn’t be long.”
Making an impulsive decision, Brady responded, “I’m almost finished here, then I’ll be home.”
“What about—”
“Work can wait. We should take care of that matter we were discussing.” He wasn’t going to let Laura go through searching Sean’s room by herself. She’d had to do too many things by herself for the past six weeks and maybe even before that. When he got home, he’d find out exactly how well she knew Dr. Gregano. He’d find out whether the bagel shop had been a planned meeting or a chance one.
And if it had been planned?
Either way, he had to take a good hard look at that wall of resentment he’d put up between them. If he didn’t, thirty-three years of marriage could just slip away.