Taming Lucinda by Normandie Alleman

Chapter 13

Lucinda

Despite my former life as the jet-setting wife of a rock star, I generally liked to stay within the borders of California these days. I was willing to venture out to visit New York or Paris, maybe Miami or a tiny resort island—I never thought I'd be taking the private jet to Texas. Not after I got Nick out of this backwards place.

Even when I'd come to see him before, I stayed within the city.

I didn't get to do that anymore. Mary Lou lived in the middle of nowhere.

Literally, nowhere. The last time we were anywhere that resembled a town was twenty miles ago. Since then it'd been farmland or empty dirt. Sometimes the dirt had cows. There were very few houses and even other vehicles were scarce. There was no cell service, no gas stations—if we broke down, we'd probably die.

"I don't know how anyone could live out here," I muttered, every glance out the window making me sullener. Sullen was better than nervous, though. I hadn't told Cole, but I kind of expected Mary Lou to try to claw my eyes out when I showed up. I suspected Eden had already told her everything and she was seething.

"Yeah, I couldn't imagine being this far from the ocean," Cole agreed.

"Or civilization."

He shrugged. "That I don't mind. People are overrated. Most people," he amended when I arched a brow.

"It's awfully brown out here. Not many trees," I added.

"It would be a challenge to landscape," he said. "I bet they do a lot of drought-resistant xeriscaping."

"You're so cute when you talk about gardens," I teased. There was no time to enjoy the levity of the moment, though. The marker for Mary Lou's property came into view—a big boulder with the name of her farm etched into it—and all the wind left my sails.

"You ready for this?" Cole asked.

I shook my head. "I'm not sure I'll ever be ready for this." How was I supposed to apologize to my former best friend for sleeping with her husband and having his child?

Pretty hard to come back from that.

"It's probably going to suck," Cole conceded. "But you've gotten through worse."

He had a point there. And for my family, I would endure a lot more.

The road to Mary Lou's house was unpaved, bumpy, and seemed to go on forever. There were fields on either side with a few sparse trees and bushes. There were a few of goats and horses grazing, surrounded by grass and wildflowers, the cloudless blue sky the perfect backdrop to the postcard-perfect picture.

"Okay, maybe I can see some of the appeal here," I said, cracking a window. The air outside smelled like the country, like fresh green growth and animals.

"They've got a really nice spot out here," Cole agreed.

"Too bad it's in Texas."

"It is," he said, and we both laughed a little as Mary Lou's house came into view.

She was outside, kneeling in her garden beds wearing a floppy sunhat, cut-off jean shorts, and a sleeveless button-down shirt. She'd certainly got the uniform down pat. The sound of our car coming down the dirt road caught her attention and she stood, shielding her eyes with her hand.

A fast black and white dog raced down from the porch, barking until the car stopped. Then it started jumping on the car door.

"George, get down," Mary Lou said, waving her hat at the dog. "Go on. That's no way to treat visitors."

"Well, at least she called the attack dog off?" Cole offered, trying to find a bright side.

"Let's do it," I groaned, opening the car door. Every move took a ton of effort, like I was fighting against the tide.

Mary Lou spotted me, then her face fell.

"My mistake, George. They're intruders, not visitors," she said, her voice flat.

"Intruders?" I asked.

She scoffed. "It's a lot nicer than the word I used in my head."

"I deserve that."

"And a hell of a lot more," she said, turning her back on me.

I glanced over to Cole, and he gestured for me to keep going. I regretted bringing him, but this was precisely why I had.

"You're right," I said, following her to the garden. Her 'attack dog' George came over wagging its tail, sniffing around my knees. I held my hands out, trying to keep it at arms' length, but that didn't seem to make a difference. "I take it you've talked to Eden already?"

"You've got a lot of damn nerve showing your face around here. Folks around here like to shoot trespassers."

"Mary Lou, you're not going to shoot me. We have the same grandchildren for crying out loud. Will you let me say my piece?"

"Hey hon? Did I hear someone pull up?" came a male voice from inside the house. A moment later, the front door opened, then a screen door swung out and a man exited carrying a shotgun.

Maybe she wasn't kidding about shooting us.

"It's all right," Mary Lou answered through gritted teeth. "This is Lucinda," she said.

The guy on the porch froze, narrowing his eyes at me. Apparently, my reputation preceded me.

"I didn't know she was comin' down," he said, his grip on the shotgun not loosening.

"Me either," Mary Lou said. "You don't need to shoot her, though," she added, pausing before finishing. "You can put the gun away."

"Who's that?" the guy asked, nodding his head at Cole.

"My boyfriend," I answered quickly. "Please don't shoot him either."

Mary Lou gave Cole a onceover and I could see a judgmental comment sitting on the tip of her tongue, but somehow, she held it in.

"This is Keith," she said. "Hon, could you take Cole in for a drink or something so we can have a minute? He is old enough to drink, isn't he?"

There was that judgmental comment I was waiting for.

"He is," Cole answered for me. "And I'd love one, thanks."

The men were all too eager to scamper off. Neither one of them was foolish enough to stick around for the ticking timebomb to go off.

"All right," Mary Lou said, her hands on her hips. "You're here. Say your piece."

"I—" My voice broke, and suddenly I wasn't so sure about what to say. I'd rehearsed what I thought sounded acceptable, but now, standing in front of Mary Lou, seeing the new lines in her face and thinking about all the years we'd lost, everything I was going to say seemed hollow.

"I'm so sorry for everything that happened," I said. I didn't expect her to believe me, but it needed to be said anyway. "It wasn't right. There's no way I can pretend to defend it. But we didn't plan for things to get so out of control. It was just a strange, kind of wonderful, kind of terrible thing we all did. But Ray never wanted to leave you. He loved you and Eden, and he was completely committed to your family. To the two of you." She said nothing, and I couldn't tell what was going on in her head, so I kept going.

"That world we lived in—the sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll—it was really messed up a lot of the time. There's no excuse for it, but I really am truly sorry for the harm I caused you. As terrible as it sounds, none of us thought about how much it would hurt you. If we had, we probably wouldn't have kept it going as long as we did."

"That is terrible," Mary Lou said, now crossing her arms over her chest, putting up a barrier between us. "But I believe you."

"When they died, I really hoped we'd be able to come together and mourn...But I understand why you couldn't."

"I wanted that too," she admitted. "But I was so angry. I'd suspected Ray was cheating for a long time and then I heard he was having an affair with you. I knew deep down it was true, and it tore me apart."

I swallowed, the lump in my throat getting tighter and tighter, but I wasn't going to cry. I refused.

"I knew," Mary Lou said, shaking her head, sounding on the verge of tears herself. "I knew being married to a rock star came with those trade-offs. I knew he'd have all the opportunities to stray, but I told myself as long as he came home to me, I was okay with it. Then I found out it was a friend...That I'd lost him to you—"

"You never lost him," I said. "What we did was stupid and selfish. Thoughtless. But he never stopped talking about how much he loved you and Eden. I should've never betrayed you the way I did. But it's not just about us anymore. Our kids are married—our kids are siblings—and I don't want to carry all this on and miss out on Albert and Annabelle growing up. I'm already going to miss out on Leo's baby..."

"He's still not talking to you?" she asked, sounding surprised.

Of course she knew everything. Leo and Eden had become very close since Leo learned about his paternity, and Eden had always been close with her mother. Far more than any of my kids were with me.

Maybe Mary Lou could tell me her secret.

"He's not talking to anyone but Eden."

"She told me he was really taking all of this pretty hard. All these years he's lived in Ziggy's shadow, and then he found out it was for nothing?"

"I wouldn't call a successful music career and marrying into royalty 'nothing.'"

Mary Lou sighed, shaking her head. "I didn't have to be around to know what kind of pressure you must have put on that boy. He needs time to come to terms with all of that. It's not going to be easy to forgive how much he sacrificed."

"I don't think he even wants to forgive."

"Maybe not," she said. "I know I didn't. I might not still if it wasn't for the twins. But you're right. They should grow up seeing family support and forgive each other. I don't want them to carry on the toxicity you've bred."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered.

"I call it like I see it," she said with a casual shrug. Then, after a pause, "Did you really come all the way out here to talk to me? This could've been a phone call, you know."

"I wanted you to know I was serious. I figured if you saw me on a dirt road, a thousand miles from anything resembling culture, you'd know I mean business."

She snorted. "You're not wrong. Who wears white to a farm?"

"My wardrobe is a little lacking in the 'farm-appropriate' attire, I'll admit."

"That's all right. The first time Eden brought the kids out here she had them in some designer jeans and sneakers and then about threw a fit when they were ruined. Living in California again has spoiled her. I told her she's going to have to let them spend a few weeks out here every year just so they know what life is like in the rest of the world."

"Hey, you used to live the California life too."

"And then I took my kid and ran away from L.A. and never went back," she said.

"Hey," Cole called from the porch. "Are things okay out here? We realized it was a little too quiet and wanted to make sure no one's dead."

"No one's dead," I laughed.

"You can probably stop worrying about that," Mary Lou concurred. "Though if you don't give George some attention soon, she might start chewing on your shoes."

The dog was laying on its stomach, its chin on the ground, nose pressed between my feet, keeping me trapped in place. When I looked down, George's long, furry tail slowly swept back and forth over the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust with each pass.

"I'm not really good with animals," I said, taking a step back.

"George seems to think otherwise," Mary Lou answered, clearly amused.

"Well, George, I hate to break it to you—" At the sound of her name, the dog jumped to her feet and started nosing at my hand.

It seemed I didn't get much choice in the matter.

"Okay, okay," I sighed, giving in. Her fur was surprisingly silky and pleasant to pet, and she was so happy for the attention that my hesitation melted away pretty quickly.

"There you go," Mary Lou said. "If Georgia says you're all right, I guess I've gotta give you another chance. Come inside, I'll make some coffee."