Page 6 of Bleeding Hearts

Cindy’s marriage was in trouble long before I moved in, and I hate how she zoned in on me that first day. But I was too nice to blow her off, and because we were neighbors told her my story. That only fueled her efforts. I was the widower with two girls who she saw as her next target.

She’s now a divorced mother of two, searching for her third husband to take care of her and her children. That will not be me.

I barely make it to my front door before Cindy is on her feet and sashaying my way. “You look tired. Did you have a tough shift? Anything I can do to help? Just name it, I’m not busy. We can put on a movie to entertain the girls while wechat.”

With a thud, I drop my duffle just inside the front door. I quickly turn to face her, my smile fixed firmly in place. “Actually, if you could watch Mollie while I go across the street and take care of something for Bethany, that would be great.”

“Bethany? Why?” Cindy follows me to the garage, talking a mile a minute, stumbling over her feet, trying to keep up. “I mean, her Christmas lights are still up. Who still has their Christmas lights up in July? Weird people, that’s who. Plus, you don’t even like her.”

I press the code for the garage door while I pray for patience. “I like her. Why would you say I don’t like her?”

“Because you don’t. You can’t. I mean, why would you like someone like her? She’s old, nearly forty. And you aren’t eventhirty yet, so you can’t possibly.” The way her face scrunches up reminds me of the girls I avoided in high school, and it just goes to prove some people never change. “Plus, she’s weird. You know she throws those parties with her friend Jodi, and God only knows what happens during them.” As if sharing a secret, she leans in, one hand cupping the side of her mouth. “I think they’re swingers. I mean, I’m no prude, but even you have to admit that’s not normal.”

Cindy’s words prove she’s unfamiliar with what the term swinger means. Couples and singles both attend the parties thrown by Beth and Jodi. Plus, what I’ve witnessed suggests they are nothing more than friends getting together to have fun—but not that kind of fun.

While she criticizes the woman I’ve grown to admire, I detach my ladder from the wall and carry it out of the garage. Passing her, I set it down in the driveway and take a calming breath. “You know what? I think Mollie can help me. You can go.”

“Oh. No.” She backtracks as fast as she can. “You misunderstood.”

“I don’t think I did. Go, before I say something I don’t think you’ll like.” Whistling loudly to get Mollie and Kellie’s attention, I pick up the ladder. “Girls, follow me. I need your help. Who wants to take down some Christmas lights?”

Mollie loves helping, no matter what it is. “Me. Me Daddy. Can I?”

“Sure thing, sweet pea.” I pat her on the head and motion for her to look both ways before crossing the street.

Kellie skates up next to us, jumps off her board as it lands in the yard, and shoves her hands in her pockets. “Why are we taking down her lights now? Shouldn’t we have done that months ago?”

I lean the tall ladder against the house and then raise it slowly. “Sometimes you don’t realize what you should’ve done until something happens and opens your eyes to it. We’re going to do better about that. And since Bethany will need some extra help while she recovers, we’ll have lots of chances to do just that. You okay with that?”

“Can I climb the ladder?” Kellie grabs the bottom to steady it when I start climbing.

I look over my shoulder and grin down at her. “You think you’re old enough to do that?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“How about you let me see how hard it is to get these down and once most of it’s done, if you still think you’re ready, I’ll let you try?” I reach above my head to unfasten the lights from the clips.

“Seriously?” Kellie’s voice sounds hopeful.

“Seriously,” I tell her as I unclip the last one I can reach before having to move the ladder.

We have them all down and rolled up for storage in an hour. Kellie even helps by taking down the ones above the porch where they weren’t as high. I vow to put them back up for Bethany this fall before she reminds me that I promised to never make her climb a ladder again.

Chapter 4

Bethany

Everything hurts.

Blinking hurts.

Breathing hurts.

And if I try to shift my weight, even a centimeter, I want to scream and demand someone knock me back out to avoid feeling like this. The level of pain I’m in is beyond anything I’ve experienced in my thirty-eight years on this damn planet. I thought squeezing two babies from my hoo-ha was hell.

Wrong!

Playing bumper cars on the freeway and losing is way worse. It wasn’t me who came up with the idea. The jackass driving the red sports car created that game all on his own. He was driving like a maniac. Very impatient. Clipped me when I didn’t switch lanes fast enough and sent me flying into the trees. In my brand spanking new baby that I busted my ass off to afford.

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