Chapter 28
“ S o that’s it,” Lainey said. They finally let her access her purse. She’d created a little tasting tray for the officers, who finally relented about halfway through her tale, devouring the chocolates one by one in the proper order. “I married a stranger for money, at least at first. And you can see why Sonya had to be stopped.”
“You’re right, the strawberry does taste better after the lemon,” one of the officers, Adam, said.
“I think what we have here, Lainey, is a failure to communicate,” Officer Taylor added, licking a dollop of melted chocolate off his thumb.
“How so?” Lainey asked.
“We heard your version, we heard Dexter’s version, we heard unintelligible rumblings from The Russians, The Hungarians tried to offer us a bribe, and Sonya hit on us.”
“Everything sounds in order,” Lainey said.
“What’s missing is some direct communication between you and your husband,” Adam said.
“Are you a marriage counselor?” Lainey asked.
“By now he could be. Guy’s on his third marriage,” Taylor said.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Adam challenged.
“You’re not wrong,” Taylor agreed. His chair scraped hard on the cement as he pushed away from the table and stood. “On that note, sit tight a little longer, Mrs. Niemen. You’re still our prisoner.”
“You got any more candy?” Adam asked, pausing by the door.
“At home. I’ll drop some off tomorrow,” Lainey promised.
He tapped the door and exited. A minute later the door opened and Dexter was pushed through, rubbing his wrists. Lainey wondered what the officers told him because he seemed surprised to see her sitting there.
“Lainey. Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. Look into my eyes. Can you feel the crazy spreading?” Lainey asked.
He winced. “Okay, I probably shouldn’t have said that. I was a little panicked when they first brought us in. I’ve never been arrested before.” He edged closer until he stood directly in front of her. She stood, nervously clasping her hands behind her back.
“You weren’t wrong, Dexter. I am kind of crazy. I’m a lot of work, too much. Everything went wrong, and it was all my fault. And I made you break the contract because you tried so hard to fix me. Too hard, especially because I’m unfixable, and…”
He shook his head and rested his hands on her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes to stop her torrent of self-flagellation. “Don’t say that. There was nothing to fix, nothing at all. You are perfect and wonderful and amazing, exactly as you are.” He picked her up, bringing her eye level. “You once asked me what married meant, and I didn’t have an answer because we weren’t married, because I didn’t understand. But now I do. Being married means being all in, doing the hard work it takes to be with that person, even when you don’t feel like it, over and over again, day after day, but in some miraculous way it’s not a drudge. It becomes the best part of you, the best part of everything. All I wanted from this arrangement was to fix my wonky job situation. In exchange I got so much more. I got everything because I got you. I love you, Lainey. I love you so much. I adore everything about you. On paper we’re total opposites, and in the real world, too. But I don’t care because I love everything that makes us different. It makes no rational sense, the way I feel for you, and I’ve never been happier to be so irrational. I know there’s Ian standing between us, but I think if you give me a chance, I can be a good husband. I can be that guy who adores you, for the rest of our lives.”
“About that, about Ian. Here’s what I figured out, thanks to you. Dexter, when I was a kid, no one noticed me. No one cared for me in the way I wanted to be cared for. My dad’s world centered around his dreams. My mom, when she was alive, centered around my dad. Murphy was independent and didn’t need anyone. And there I was, in my own Lainey orbit, desperately wanting to be loved. When Ian came along, it seemed like the answer to a prayer. He paid attention to me. He was kind to me. He let me tag along with him and Murphy. When I was with him, it seemed like enough because he gave me more than anyone else ever had. But it was never enough, not really. It was better than what I had before, but it wasn’t complete. I told myself that gaping hole that remained was because he and I weren’t together, and if we were ever together, it would be fixed.
“But then you came along, and I understood everything that had been missing. Ian doesn’t want me, not really. When his possessive jealousy dies down, he’ll realize and understand that. He had ten years and he never made a move until I took myself out of reach. And the truth, the wonderful and amazing truth, is that I don’t want Ian, not anymore. He and I would never have worked because we’re too alike. We’re both dreamers, romantics, passionate nomads looking for our tent stakes. You, you’re a tent stake, my tent stake. You don’t talk about love, you love . You cover me when I’m cold, wipe my face when it’s covered in strawberries, wash my dishes, hold me when I’m asleep, defend my packages from the box people. You are everything I need and everything I didn’t know I wanted. You’re it, you’re the total package, you’re my Mr. Darcy and Mr. Rochester rolled into one. I dream of you every minute I’m awake, and all of them when I’m asleep. And oh my goodness, Dexter, I love you so, so, so much.” She was predictably crying by the end of her speech. Dexter was torn between wanting to kiss her and wanting to dry her tears. In the end he did both, kissing her lips while using his thumbs to dry her cheeks.
“I have to sit, because as much as I want to be the guy who can hold you endlessly, I’m not.” He sank into the chair, Lainey in his lap.
“That was very courageous, to tell me you loved me when you thought I still loved Ian,” Lainey said. She kissed his cheek, pausing to inhale.
“The Russians told me I needed a grand gesture.”
“So wise, The Russians,” Lainey said, smiling when he rolled his eyes. “In this instance, at least.”
“In this instance,” he agreed. “Although telling you I loved you wasn’t the gesture; that was common sense after our ordeal.”
Lainey perked up, wriggling a little. “There’s more?”
“There’s more, so much more.” His hand rubbed a preemptively soothing circle on her back because what he was about to tell her was momentous. “I quit my job.”
She blinked at him, frozen with shock. “Come again now.”
“I’m a nine-to-five guy, Lainey. I’m happy to go to work and come home, it’s all I need. But you, you have dreams, and I love that about you. I don’t want you to give up your dream.”
“But I failed at my dream,” Lainey reminded him.
“You didn’t fail. Look how much you learned. All you need is another boost,” he said.
She thought he was being generous about that but didn’t quibble. “How is you quitting your job going to give me a boost?”
“Well, this is the grand part. Don’t be mad.” He tried to gauge her reaction, but he couldn’t because she had no idea what he was about to say. “I bought the candy store.”
She couldn’t be certain what he said because her heart jumped into her ears, obscuring all sound. “What? Did you say you bought the candy store? Mr. Weaver’s candy store? The candy store where I work? My favorite candy store? My comfort place since I was a little girl?”
“Yes. Mr. Weaver has agreed to stay on and show us the ropes for a while as we make the transfer, to mentor us so we make sure and get it right. I’ll do all the boring backroom stuff that I normally do, and you’ll be the front room person, the creative force, the maker of garish candy ants and so much more.” He touched the hair at her temple, smoothing it affectionately with a fond smile.
Her mouth opened and a little puff of air escaped, her last. It was a while before she remembered to breathe again and then she sucked hard, trying to take in enough oxygen to make her brain function again. Words, she needed to say words. Instead she burst into tears.
“You’re not happy?” he guessed, feeling no small amount of his own panic.
She shook her head.
“You are happy?” he tried.
She shook her head.
“I’m going to need some form of understandable communication here soon. If you don’t want the store, we can undo it. I haven’t signed anything yet; we have a gentleman’s agreement.”
She clutched his lapels. “I can’t believe you out-dreamed me.”
“What?”
“The dream, my dream, it wasn’t big enough. Not with you, not with the job. Everything is so much more than I even knew I wanted, and I…Are we really going to get to work together every day?”
“That’s the best dream of all, huh?” he guessed, petting her hair again. He had loved working with her in the evenings, and he thought she felt the same.
She nodded, swiping at her ruined mascara. “The best, the very best.”
The door opened and Officer Adam poked his head inside. “Everything okay in here? We’re watching through the mirror, obviously, but we can’t read lips and Lainey’s crying.”
Lainey nodded. “It’s Robert. He’s spectacular.”
Adam squinted, confused. “Who’s Robert?”
Lainey pointed to Dexter.
“It’s Dexter,” Adam said.
“Where?” Lainey and Dexter said together.
“Medusa eyes of crazy,” Adam muttered as he put up his hands and backed slowly out of the room.
Lainey rested her head on Dexter’s shoulder. “Not that I’m not ecstatic for us, because I am, but what about The Russians? I don’t want to leave them in the lurch.”
“I found a replacement for me,” Dexter said.
“Who?” Lainey asked.
“Sonya. She’s the only other person the brothers listen to and she has a pretty good head for business, after you dig through a few terrifying layers. Plus as my wise wife once said, ‘sometimes you have to fight crazy with crazy.’ Sonya will either out-crazy or out-charm anyone she encounters. It’s time to stop fighting the crazy and let The Russians learn to make it work for them.”
“Are you sure she can handle it?” Lainey asked.
The door opened again. This time Officer Taylor poked his head in. “You lovebirds are free to go.”
“We’re not being charged?” Dexter said.
“We, uh, had a conversation with Sonya. She made us see that charges weren’t necessary for anyone but The Hungarians who were clearly trespassing.”
“Yeah, I think she’s going to be okay,” Lainey said. She stood and held out her hand to Dexter. “Let’s go home and move your stuff into my side of the house. No offense, but your lack of clutter creeps me out.”
“It will be good to save on rent, now that we have no income,” he said. “After we’re done moving my stuff, we can talk about a budget.”
She kissed his palm and tossed him a promising little look. “You think so?”
“Or maybe some other time,” he amended, clearing his throat. “In any case, let’s go home, sweetest wife.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders.
She slid her arm around his waist and gave him a squeeze in return. “Let’s go home, best husband.”
Behind them The Russians eased out of the various rooms where they’d been held, following silently behind Lainey and Dexter as if they were pied pipers.
Sonya was waiting for them in the parking lot, arms crossed impatiently as she leaned on her car. She rounded up her brothers, signaling them to get into the waiting car with a nod of her head. They did so, tossing Lainey a combined and surreptitious wave.
Lainey and Sonya eyed each other and shared a nod.
“What was that about?” Dexter asked, opening the passenger door of his car for Lainey.
“Sonya and I have reached an understanding. She won’t poach my territory anymore.”
“I’m your territory?” he said, leaning over the console to press his face to her neck and inhale her wonderful and perfect Lainey smell. Chocolate. Vanilla. Love. Home.
“Yes, but we should go home so I can make certain you’re properly marked,” Lainey said, closing her eyes as his lips pressed her pulse point. “How fast can you drive?”
“As fast as the law allows,” Dexter replied, easing away to start the car.
“Ten miles over?” she prodded. Her hand reached out and settled on his thigh, giving it a little squeeze.
“Five,” he agreed. But then she smiled her Lainey smile, and he was gone.
In the end he drove twenty miles over the speed limit, and he didn’t fuss when he got pulled over. Especially not when the officer’s radio crackled and Officer Adam’s voice filtered out.
“Let the lovebirds go. They’ve got places to be.”
With a roll of his eyes, the officer waved them on, almost immediately distracted by the car behind them. Four men were inside, oversized, dark, and brooding, the kind of men that were always up to no good. He headed toward his car, ready to make a stop, when he was once again distracted by the driver, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in real life.
She paused the car, rolled down the window, and blew him a kiss. He remained riveted, stunned into place until the car passed and the spell finally broke.
With a shake of his head, he returned to his vehicle. Weird day, he thought. With a sudden craving for chocolate, he rooted in the small bag of personal items he kept on his floor, glancing around to make certain no one was watching. When it was clear he was fully alone, he removed the chocolate ant with the overly made up face and took a giant bite. His wife had discovered the things and bought one for him as a joke, but he was now addicted. He closed his eyes and let the chocolate work its magic, wondering what sort of person made chocolate ants for a living.
No one you’ll ever meet, he assured himself. That sort of crazy would surely make itself known, warding him away. In the meantime, there was chocolate.
He took another bite, until only the ant’s garish makeup face was left, then he popped it in his mouth and closed his eyes, resting his head on the seat for a moment of peace before the craziness of his night resumed.
T hank you for reading The WINO Next Door.