25 The Lon
Beau
“Homework goes directly in the backpack,” Amelia called from her spot in front of the stove. Her voice wove through all the tendrils of chaos happening in the hub of the house: the kitchen.
“I’m not finished,” West said, pencil in hand, concentrating on the math assignment in front of him. “I don’t really get the shapes being math.”
“Put it in your backpack. We’ll go over it after dinner,” I said, working Fisher’s folder into the small pack he wore.
“Paw, they don’t give us enough time to play anymore. We go to school and home and homework and dinner and baths and reading then bed.” West’s hands splayed out as if trying to solve the complicated problem. “So we only get to play on the weekend?”
“On Saturday, you gotta go to practice and do chores, goofball,” Ava said, shuffling her feet to the small area in the kitchen where a desk was supposed to be. Instead, we had hooks for backpacks and lunch bags to hang on, ready to be picked up on the way out in the morning. That station was critical to the success of the morning.
The girls’ designated hook spaces were neat and organized. Even their shoes were nicely placed underneath. The boys clearly didn’t get the value of order, or properly fastened zippers, or the strap on the end of the backpack that actually hung on the hooks. Chaos ensued within their three spaces.
To my mom’s constant irritation, I knew I was the same way at their age. Maybe I was still that way, but I loved them. That love regularly drove me to return back to school with different assignments left at home. Sometime soon, I was going to have to show them tough love , which would be so much harder on me than them. It wasn’t going to be fun.
“Paw, do you think it’s ready for a badge?” Livie asked.
What she really meant was she wanted me to sign the bottom of the intricately thought through, and way overprepared form to earn a Girl Scout merit badge for both her and Mia. Ava had given up a long time ago. Mia loved the scouting program, being all earthy and devoted to keeping every single bug alive. For Livie, it was a competition that resulted in a small, triangle-shaped iron-on badge as an award. She had to have all of them by now.
She handed me a pen, and I scribbled my name at the bottom.
“I need six dollars before I turn it in.” Livie beamed.
“Remind me in the mornin’.”
“I need six dollars too,” Fisher growled. He jumped into a fighter stance, pulling out two hip-holstered finger laser guns and began shooting me. He was excellent with the sounds, hands and mouth coordinated perfectly. Less than an instant later, all the boys began laser shooting each other.
“Abuela made the salad with peaches and blueberries,” Mia’s words tumbled out excitedly, dropping the table napkins in front of me. I was still sitting in the same seat I started in an hour ago. “It has the lemon poppy dressing. It’s so good.”
“Yum. Go wash your hands before dinner,” I said, waggling my eyebrows at her excitement as a set of headlights beamed across the living room.
“Can you see who it is?” I asked Amelia, craning my head until I was standing, to see better out the front windows.
“Looks like Dash’s Tahoe, but he’s taking Lon to the airport.”
Lon had flown in for the afternoon, the first time ever coming to Sea Springs, but Amelia was right, Dash was driving him to a private airport in South Houston. I knew that with certainty because I checked the schedule and planned accordingly. Which meant, when the kids went down for bed, so did I.
The world required too much work to continue at this pace for much longer. A yawn broke my mouth open as if to drive the point home.
“Daddy’s home,” West hollered, vaulting over a kitchen chair with the grace of a reckless rhinoceros. He bolted for the door, the other kids stampeding after him. Their laughter echoed and footsteps clomped as they went. Dixie and Duke came crashing through the doggie door at a full run to greet Dash too.
My breath caught as West opened the front door and revealed Lon’s unmistakable figure. For a moment, the world stilled, going quiet. Tunnel vision showed two men standing in the doorframe—Dash, with his familiar energy, and Lon, whose presence seemed to absorb the room like a gravitational force. They were an eye-popping, heart-slamming duo, physically speaking.
How was Lon better looking today, than ten years ago?
“Daddy’s with a friend,” Hunter exclaimed, his voice piercing the quiet. My world slingshotted back into place as Lon stepped over the threshold into every room because of this ridiculously open concept home. My stomach flip-flopped, an exhale finally released, allowing additional breath into my lungs.
I hadn’t expected to ever see him again.
Definitely, not see him here in my house.
Especially not tonight.
Dash knew my feelings.
The overwhelming green-eyed monster took over the reasonable side of my headspace. Except it didn’t. Lon was the kind of guy who mesmerized you. I wanted to know him. I wanted to be him, and I wanted my own mesmerizing guy to stay away from him.
The life Lon represented was a polar opposite to ours.
“Paw didn’t think you’d be home tonight,” Livie murmured, her steps faltering as Dash ushered Lon further inside. Lon’s sharp, discerning gaze swiftly scanned the large space, stopping briefly on each child.
In better lighting, I saw the age, but time had treated him unusually kind. The silver streaks in his groomed beard and dark hair added to his air of refinement. Somehow, he seemed more striking—his presence commanding and effortless.
“Good God,” Lon said with a low whistle, his lips curving into a wry grin. “The girls are identical and beautiful. You’ll be fending off the boys with a baseball bat, Dash.”
The room hummed with unspoken questions, and the dogs bouncing for attention.
I was stuck under the weight of what Lon’s return might mean. Fisher gave his quiet whistle, commanding the dogs.
My boy had my back in calming the two down.
Lon’s discerning gaze settled on me. Sharp and warm, I felt instantly exposed, but okay with that. “You’ve got your hands full.” He strode across the room like he owned the place, his hand extending to me. I clasped it. “Dash was driving me to the airport when I realized I hadn’t seen your bunch in person.”
His charming gaze caught Amelia coming around the table, and he smiled.
“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.
Answer no , answer no , answer no , my inner voice chanted. I hadn’t dealt with Lon since I left Chicago. No, I never directly blamed him for Dash’s choices, but he’d certainly done his share to keep Dash tethered to a world that made no room for me. He was the only man to come between us. The memories hovered, unbidden.
“The plane’s waiting, but you have a beautiful family. How are you all people pretty?”
“You’re daddy’s old boss,” Livie said when the lightbulb moment connected. “You taught him how to use the law to help people.”
“Correct. I’m Uncle Lon,” he said, extending his hand for a proper handshake. He tucked her hand in his. She loved every second of the mature approach of life.
“You’ve met Livie, beside her is Ava, then Mia,” Dash said, coming into the living room. “West, raise your hand. Fisher, then Hunter.”
Lon’s gaze swept the room, taking in each child, then the surroundings. “So who’s gonna show me around this monstrosity. Do you ever get lost in this house?” Lon asked, stepping further into the kitchen.
“What the hell?” I mouthed to Dash.
My guy gave me a shrug, a movement designed to ask forgiveness, not permission. My self-esteem was going to take a solid hit after this encounter. Great.
“Stay for dinner, Lon. You can even stay the night,” Amelia said. “You can stay in my room. I’ll stay with the girls.”
“What?” Lon said. “This big house doesn’t have a guest room?”
“Too many kids,” West said, mimicking my words that answered everything.
The six stood close to Lon.
Man, even my kids gravitated to the guy.
“I’ll schedule another trip to spend some time. I’ve listened to story after story about you all. I feel like I could fit in here.” Lon’s index finger flipped toward Mia. “Mia, you’re the easygoing one, very loving. Livie, you’re super smart and neat. Then Ava...” His brow playfully dropped, indicating her normal expression, bringing them all to laughter.
“How do you feel about sticking around for dinner?” Lon asked Dash.
“We eat light and healthy,” Dash warned. “Usually on the patio when it’s nice outside. Can we eat out there? It’s my favorite place.”
“Sure,” Amelia said, “redirect, my little loves. Set the patio table.” One of the two salad bowls was between her hands as she headed outside. Everyone grabbed something and followed her out.
Dash walked straight up to me and stole a kiss from my lips. “I was driving—”
“My kids like him better than me,” I hissed, begging my inner self to calm down and smile. Thankfully, I did.
“No they don’t,” Dash said.
“Did y’all get everything ready for next week?” I asked, pivoting topics until I fully explored what the heck was happening inside me. The shock of seeing Lon again had worn off. My southern manners kicked in. I needed to get drinks.
“We did, or we’ll see if we did.” Dash’s hands went to my hips, trailing behind me outside.
“Everyone wash your hands,” I called, pivoting one direction while Dash headed in the other.
I felt like my whole plan for the next couple of hours was to avoid Lon. The music that had been quiet inside our house for months began playing overhead.
The relief was instant. The sounds changed everything. If the tunes were back, then we were back.
One week later
“Babe, I’m going three-piece and adding the tie bar,” Dash called from the inside of our closet. “Which means you need to wear this warm taupe suit to blend with me. We’ll appear to coordinate effortlessly.”
I was lying on the mattress, back against the headboard, my leg bent at the knee. My thumb rested on the channel search option on the remote, clicking until I found HGTV. We had two days before we left for Chicago. I didn’t know how long we were going to be gone, but Dash wanted me there with him. Not for show, only for support. We were down to the wire, every second of every minute was planned with only room for a few unexpected twists and turns. Except those weren’t afforded to me too. My whole game plan for the trial was to stay quiet and glare at the Richmonds any chance I got.
“Stone said he can send someone over tomorrow to dress us,” I murmured somewhat distractedly, happy to see David Bromstad’s gorgeous smile light up the screen. I tapped the increase volume button, letting that be the indicator that our favorite show was on. “If you win, let’s use My Lottery Dream Home to buy us a side place. What’s that called—a vacation home?”
“How’re you so relaxed?” Dash asked, poking his head out of the closet. “I’m the one who’s done this before, and I’m a wreck.”
“The anxiety medicine I started takin’ last week,” I said. How I hadn’t started taking it years ago was beyond me. Man, did it help me put distance between me and the problem. Unlike my emotional wreck of a husband. Dash had taken the abuse he’d been handed straight to heart. I saw remnants of a young boy, seeking his parents’ approval, and never getting it quite right. Those fuckers kept messing with my guy… The anger shot forward but then eased off. That’s why I loved the medicine. “It’s kicked in. I might take it forever.”
“Yeah, I should too since it turns out, I’m the one who should be jealous of Lon,” Dash said, persnickety as he crossed the bedroom, heading for the bathroom and its mirror.
What a revelation that had been. Apparently, I was the one who saw Lon in such a captivating way. Dash thought I was crazy when I described my feelings. He didn’t see any of those traits in Lon, even going so far to say, Lon was entirely too high maintenance for his tastes. My guy was attracted to down-to-earth guys. The ones with a small amount of grit on them.
Still, it had been a solid week since my revelation, and he wasn’t letting the jealousy go. Maybe it was a diversion for his brain. He hung on to the Lon effect for the same reason I sought the doctor out. We’d bitten off more than we could emotionally chew by going after his family. The stress was too much.
“Severe and persistent sexual abuse.” They weren’t words I’d ever agree to hear on repeat in our bathroom, but Dash needed to practice his courtroom voice. He had all his catchphrases ready to pull out of his back pocket.
“Boorish and sexist behavior. Predator in wait.”
Sometimes the words led into sentences. Every once in a while, I heard a full paragraph. Dash was leaving nothing to chance, and honestly, damned good at his job.
When Dash’s cell phone rang, I glanced at the clock while reaching across the bed for Dash’s phone. Almost ten o’clock at night. Stone’s name appeared on the screen. The fear of what that might mean penetrated the calm inside me. I swiped over the answer option. With a fluid sweep of my arm, I never stopped until I rolled to the other side of the bed to give Dash the cell.
“Hang on, Stone,” I said.
He and I stared at one another, the intensity we shared was palpable. My hand went to his hip, as I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. “What?” Dash asked into the cell phone.
The harsh tone reminded me that Dash was living on a thin line, trying his best to keep the savage attorney tucked away while home. The one barked word flipped him to the other side of patient in less than a second. “Why?”
My love’s gaze shifted quickly back and forth. Although he focused in mostly my direction, he didn’t see me—lost in the conversation.
“Meet me at the office,” Dash finally said and swung around, heading back to the closet. Instinct had me dressing too. “Stone, I’m tired of being led around by my nose. They deserve nothing from me. It’s too late.”
I went to stand by the bedroom door, toeing on my runners, waiting for Dash. My ball cap came last to hide my bedhead. I scraped my fingers down my beard, combing it into shape.
“If it’s not a plea, what would it be?”
Dash came out of his closet with the presence of power, much like a bull, searching for the matador. He wore a pair of pressed walking shorts with a collared polo shirt stretched over his chest. He had a key fob and wallet in one hand, cell phone still stuck to his ear.
“Where are you going?” Dash asked me, irritated. “I have to go to the office.”
“I’m goin’ with you.”
My guy looked momentarily perplexed then nodded, walking past me toward the front door.
“I don’t like secrecy. I’m not giving a single inch. They’ve lost the right to a code of conduct for the trial. I’m dying on this sword they created. Call Brianne. Have her call Lon and Penny.”
He disconnected the call.
Dash dropped his chin to chest and worked the phone’s keypad, never losing his direction, heading out the front door, ignoring me all the way to the Tahoe.
“Drive.”
“Text Amelia. I left my phone inside,” I said, climbing behind the wheel. It didn’t matter what was happening. I sensed that Dash was going to lose it on someone tonight. I rarely saw him this way. Whatever happened, I hoped it was worth it.