Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Darn that Asher. He did this. He sicced Libby and Judy on me. I'll kill him. But how could Marlowe not go with these ladies to see Kelsey at her home? Especially since she'd brought Farrah to visit? Kelsey had left earlier with Farrah. Said she had to get back before Alex's father's caregiver left for the day.

Marlowe didn't ask who or why, just knuckled down to get through another day. She'd never been out with any girlfriends, much less gone to one of their homes. It was strange, riding shotgun, while Libby maneuvered down country roads lined by oaks with branches so high and wide, they created lush green tunnels that made Marlowe feel like an uncivilized hobbit. Compared to her early years in miserable Chicago, then in harsh, dirty Afghanistan, these women lived in paradise. She could only imagine how glamorous their homes were.

Anxiously, Marlowe straightened her borrowed sunglasses and tugged at her beanie, making sure it covered her Dumbo-sized ears and every bit of her bare, scabby scalp. Which was just beginning to prickle with new growth, darn it. She didn't want these cheerful kind women to think less of her. She didn't want them to know why she'd shaved her head, either. Lice and high society didn't mix. They were polar opposites, and these women were all super-model perfect. Even Farrah had long shiny hair, like ladies in high-priced shampoo commercials. But Marlowe's? Patchy and shaved close. Not sleek or pretty enough to turn a guy's head. Nope, not going there. Asher was not on her radar. She did not want to turn his head. Didn't care if he ever looked her way again. The traitor.

‘ Listen up, kid,' she scolded her stupid inner child. ‘Men want arm candy, not a bedraggled piece of alley trash who fits better in Afghanistan than America.' She'd been a social pariah all her life, and these gorgeous women would wash their hands of her the moment they knew what she really was. A big fat nothing. ‘Nothing to see here, folks. Keep walking.'

Fidgeting and feeling more trapped with every mile, Marlowe kept her attention on the scenery. Libby and Judy bantered back and forth about their other girlfriends, Persia and China, who were both pregnant. Who were on their way to Kelsey's house to meet Wonder Woman . Ugh. Talk about a fish out of water, Marlowe was an ugly moray eel in a tank full of elegant Japanese koi.

Too soon, Libby turned her SUV into a gated community and Marlowe's jaw dropped. Mansions everywhere. Huge, well-kept lawns and magnificent, tall trees between them. Holy cow! That house, err, mansion had a waterfall in the front yard. But the beautiful gray stone house, building, mansion—whatever, that Libby had just pulled up to, after driving a mile-long, red brick driveway—Marlowe didn't want to set foot in. The driveway alone was so, so pretty, but if this was Kelsey's home, it wasn't a house. It was a castle, with an enclosed, glassed-in widow's walk on the roof and its crisp, black, shingled top looked like a pointed witch's hat. A six, maybe eight-sided railing with turned spindles, all painted bright white, surrounded the charming attraction. Why, oh why, would anyone build such an elegant thing on their roof? Was there a circular staircase leading to it, or did Kelsey keep one of those clever ladders hidden in the ceiling below? The Stewarts couldn't possibly see the ocean from there, could they?

Marlowe's view of the rooftop masterpiece disappeared when Libby parked closer to two expansive, double-wide, steel garage doors. How many cars did these people own? "You're not in Kabul anymore, Dorothy," she muttered under her breath.

And there she was, a clown dressed in flannel pajamas that Libby had brought or bought for her, Marlowe wasn't sure which. But the jeans and t-shirt, which Libby had also bought or brought, had been too rough on her still-healing and very tender back. At least, the PJs were navy blue with white trim, not covered with cartoon characters, and the sunglasses gave her something to hide behind.

"We're here," Libby said brightly. "Everybody out."

Getting out of the Houston family's glamorous silver SUV took some doing, but at last, Marlowe was on her feet, both hands firmly on her borrowed walker's handles. Looking across the manicured lawn. Feeling like a poor relative. A total misfit.

With Judy on one side and Libby on the other, she made her way to the enormous, carved wooden front door. It opened before Libby knocked, and the sweetest little girl yelled, "Hi, Aunt Libby. Hi, Aunt Judy. Come on in. I was watching for you."

The moment Libby crouched to greet her, that adorable angel climbed into her arms and snuggled. Had to be Kelsey's daughter. Same dark chocolate hair. Same deep brown eyes. Also in jeans and a pink t-shirt.

"How's your mama today, Lexie?" Libby asked, lifting upright with mini-Kelsey on her hip.

"Oh, she's really good, Aunt Libby, and so's Baby Bradley, but Grandpa's feeling poorly, so he can't play with us. He might wanna read a story, though. That'd be nice, huh?" Lexie stopped talking just long enough to suck in a deep breath and ask, "Wanna see my new puppies? I got two!"

Judy whispered, "Alex's dogs have both gotten old. That's why the puppies. He's all about security. You'll see."

Marlowe nodded, not sure what she was agreeing with.

Kelsey called from somewhere inside, "I'm in the kitchen. Don't forget to set the alarm."

"I know the drill," Libby replied. She set Lexie on the floor and did something with the alarm box behind the door, while Judy led the way to where Kelsey sat at the kitchen table, feeding an older, gray-haired man in a wheelchair. A kitchen towel lay draped over his chest, and was tied loosely behind his neck. He held a wooden spoon in one hand, but it was still clean.

"Hi, Marlowe. It's so good to see you again. Please, have a seat. We're just finishing lunch."

"Okay, thanks." Marlowe peeled the sunglasses off and handed them to Judy, who tucked them into her pocket.

Kelsey tipped her head to the older guy. "Grandpa. Libby, Judy, and Marlowe came to see you. Isn't that sweet of them?"

He didn't look up and didn't seem to hear what Kelsey said. Her father-in-law must have Alzheimer's or dementia. Most people would've put him in a nursing home. Why hadn't she?

"This is Alex's father, Mel Stewart. He's going to read with Lexie after lunch, aren't you, Grandpa?" Kelsey asked, carefully wiping his chin with the damp towel.

"Yay!" Lexie shouted as enthusiastically as she said everything else. "Only don't turn the pages till I get done reading them, okay? Twenty thousand Leagues Under the Sea again?"

Grandpa didn't grunt or look at his granddaughter. He was totally not present, probably didn't know where he was. Which was sad because he was missing a lot.

"You read Twenty Leagues Under the Sea ? Really?" Marlowe asked. Unbelievable. Or maybe it was just a kid's picture book. That made sense.

Lexie turned her bright eyes and replied, "Sure. Wanna read with me? You can hold Baby Bradley, but don't let him touch the book, cuz he likes to rip pages out."

"Well, err…" Marlowe had no choice. Lexie had a grip on her walker and was steering her away from the table, toward the hall.

"Lexie, Marlowe just got here, and she's probably tired, so don't drag her away. She just got out of the hospital today."

"You been sick?" Lexie stopped steering, her eyes wide with wonder. "What'd you have? Tonsillitis? Pneumonia? De-men-cha?"

Marlowe couldn't suppress a smile. "My goodness, you know a lot of big words." Maybe that book wasn't a child's version. "I hurt my nose, back, and feet, that's all. And it's very nice to meet you, Lexie."

"Who hit you in your eye?"

Marlowe brushed the question off. "Don't worry about me. Maybe I'll read with you later, would that be okay?"

"Sure! I love to read!"

"Sweetheart, why don't you help Grandpa into the playroom? Go very slow, and I'll get Bradley," Kelsey said, as she deftly cleared the table and put the few dishes in the sink. Which was a modern marvel of hammered bronze metal that looked more like an antique than a modern sink. The matching gooseneck faucet gracing the counter had a handle like an old-fashioned pump. Everywhere Marlowe looked, she saw wealth. Every appliance looked brand new. Not a ragged thing in sight. Nothing worn out, battered, or broken.

She bowed her head, needing to leave. She would've if Kelsey hadn't touched her shoulder and said, "You need to sit down. Here. Let me hold this chair and—"

"No," snapped out of Marlowe's mouth, as Lexie rolled another walker, this one with bright pink tennis balls instead of wheels, over to her grandfather. "I'm not a cripple."

Lexie stopped and cocked her head.

"Good, because I never said you were," Kelsey answered just as kindly as ever. "But I know a woman at the end of her rope when I see one. Now sit down before you fall down." She pulled a chair out from the table and pointed a stern finger at the seat.

"Oh, oh. Mama's mad at you," Lexie whispered. "You're gonna have to stand in the corner."

Marlowe wasn't expecting that firm command from this delicate woman or the warning from her adorable daughter, so she did as she was told. She sat.

"She's just tired, Mama," Lexie explained. "Maybe she needs a nap like Bradley and Grandpa always do."

Great, just great. Now she'd made Lexie feel bad. Sucking in a bellyful of regret, Marlowe nodded at the little girl. "I think you're right. I am tired. But I promise I'll come read with you after I talk with your mom a while."

"Well, okay, but you don't have to if you don't want to. I promise I'll read very softly if you do, and maybe you'll fall asleep like Bradley does."

Could there be a sweeter child than this one? Chastised, Marlowe said, "Thank you."

Kelsey kissed her daughter's head as Lexie led her grandfather down the hall.

"You should be proud," Marlowe whispered. "You've raised a very mature little girl."

"She takes after her mom," Judy said. Setting Marlowe's walker out of the way, she took the chair beside her. Libby sat next to Kelsey, and weren't they just like four busybody housewives about to gossip over coffee?

Right on cue, Kelsey asked. "Would anyone like coffee? I made a cinnamon crunch coffee cake to go with it this morning. Any takers?"

Marlowe's eyes were still on Lexie and her grandfather. The little girl jabbered with every halting step he took down the hallway. The scene was almost otherworldly. A tiny elf of a child taking care of a grumpy, stooped, older man, who did nothing but groan and growl in response to everything she said. He didn't look anything like Alex.

Judy held up a finger. "Just coffee for me. No, you stay seated. I'll serve. You go get Bradley. Marlowe? Libby? Coffee, cake, or something else?"

"Coffee's fine, thanks," Marlowe replied, as Kelsey followed Lexie and Grandpa down the same hallway.

"Nothing for me," Libby answered. "Already had a cup and one's my limit. That's the playroom Lexie is steering her grandpa into, Marlowe. It's childproof."

"And grandfather proof," Judy added. "Kelsey's just making sure he gets settled into his chair, instead of beside it. Lexie can usually handle him, but he's a cantankerous old fart on his best days. Sometimes he hurts her feelings. Alzheimer's is a challenge to live with."

"And yet he lives here? With Alex and his family?" Marlowe asked.

Judy nodded. "Kelsey wouldn't have it any other way, now that she's back on her feet."

"Asher said someone shot her last fall?"

"Yes, and for a while, we were afraid we'd lose her."

"But as usual, Kelsey's stronger than any of us expected," Libby added. "But that's her story to tell. Judy, why don't you tell Marlowe about you and Harley?"

Kelsey returned with an adorable, blue-eyed, toddler-sized little boy snuggled under her chin. Could only be Alex's son. The boy was a miniature, sweeter version of him, and it was easy to see how much this little guy loved his mom. Kelsey had it all, a handsome, rich husband, a beautiful mansion, and two perfect children.

She shifted the boy to her hip and opened the slider off the kitchen. "Whisper. Smoke. Come." In through the door bounded two huge, slobbering dogs, a black German Shepherd and a silvery Malinois.

Kelsey told the dogs, "Playroom, boys. Guard." Not sternly, though. Kindly.

Straightaway, both dogs did as she ordered.

"Boys?" Marlowe asked. "You call them boys, and you're sending them in with your little girl?"

"Trust me," Judy cut in, "Lexie bosses them as much as she does her grandpa. They'll be okay. They're big marshmallows when it comes to her and Bradley."

"But they're so big. Are they military working dogs?"

"Retired explosive ordnance dogs, yes," Libby answered.

"Aren't you afraid they'll hurt her?" Lexie might be bossy, but those dogs were trained, military muscle. The American soldiers in Afghanistan didn't let anyone pet their working dogs, much less read to them. What was Kelsey thinking?

"Those boys would never hurt my kids," Kelsey said as she plopped her son on Marlowe's lap. "They're bigger, older, furrier brothers, and they're quite defensive of their little sister and brother. I'd let the puppies in, but they're still in training."

Marlowe forgot about dogs now that she had a baby in her hands. A cute little boy with wide, curious blue eyes that weren't full of fear. Alex's son. Oh, my. She tightened her hold on his waist, not going to let anything happen to this perfect clone. Interestingly, he wasn't afraid of her, a total stranger. How perfectly American. What did kids here in the land of the forever free and the incredibly wealthy have to be afraid of?

"And they're walking vacuum cleaners," Judy teased. "I've got at least three dogs in the house on most days, between Harley's, Little A's, and whichever fur baby Georgie is training at the moment. Did I tell you I had him tested and he's been diagnosed with ADHD?"

Kelsey washed her hands at her beautiful kitchen sink, then brought a plate full of perfect little squares of coffee cake to the table and helped herself to a mug of coffee. She set the cake in the center of the table and took the chair beside Marlowe. "I'm not surprised. Will he have to take something for it?"

"He already is, and I'm seeing a big difference in him. Poor kid told me it's easier to think, and stuff that boggled his mind before, makes sense now. He said it's easier to concentrate, and he doesn't feel like he's falling down a rabbit hole, like Alice in Wonderland whenever he opens a book. I had no idea how badly he felt."

"I'm glad you had him tested. Children with ADHD don't realize how differently their brains process information," Kelsey said. "I often think that Nick—"

"Don't. Just don't," Libby snapped, the sting in her voice surprising Marlowe. "Don't you dare make excuses for that man. Nick made his choices. He deserved what he got."

"And I'm proud Harley put him down," Judy added fiercely. "When I think what you went through that night, and everything Alex suffered" —she shuddered— "I thank God for every bullet Harley put into those bastards' brains. I wish he could kill them again. Hell, I wish—"

"Judy, shush," Libby whispered. "Lexie has radar ears, and Bradley doesn't need to hear this." She turned to Marlowe. "Well, look at Wonder Woman . Guess you've got maternal instincts after all."

"What?" Marlowe looked down at the little boy on her lap, the grinning toddler, whose cute little ears her hands now rested over. He was looking up at her, his eyes sparkling, as if she was playing a game with him. Darn. She did have maternal instincts, and apparently, they'd reacted automatically when Judy cussed. Tears flooded her eyes again. Had to be something in the air.

Bowing her head to the top of this little guy's downy head, Marlowe strived for distraction. "Who's Nick?"