Restoring Passion Read online

  “Since when do you have allergies?” he asked in a worried tone.

  “Savannah hasn’t been the best for my sinuses.” She bit her lip after the other lie, right after the ones about Daniel and how great they were doing.

  “That’s nice of you to want to send your mom a card, Vanny. Why the change of heart?”

  “Well, I know I’ve been giving her the cold shoulder lately. I need to do better. As a daughter.”

  “You’re the best daughter around from where I’m looking. It will be good for Crystal to see some of that, too.”

  “I just can’t find where I wrote down her address in Pennsylvania.”

  “Won’t do you any good. She’s down in Florida for the summer.”

  “Florida?”

  “Didn’t I tell you Roger got them a vacation home there?”

  “Nope, you didn’t tell me.” Why would you? I’ve never shown any interest in what happened to Mom. You do enough of that for the both of us. “Do you have her address?”

  “Ah, hold on. Let me see if I can dig it up.”

  Bruce fumbled with the phone and huffed. Vanessa pictured his big hands rummaging through a bunch of notes and papers littering the secretary desk in his tiny living room. She filled the empty soundscape with the first thing she could think of, arbitrary and distant enough, so Bruce wouldn’t ask again about Daniel. “Didn’t Mom get the memo about Florida and the snowbird migration calendar?”

  “Your mom was never one to do anything by the book. Got it. You ready?”

  And with that one bit of information, Vanessa made her way to Merritt Island. Powerlines, gas stations, and strip malls disappeared with a turn off the parkway. The dark drive through the Thorntons’ vacation spot was dotted with palm trees. Aside from a yard spotlight here and there, the ranches were tiny and unassuming. Not a McMansion in sight. Very un-Crystal-like.

  As she looked around for her mother’s home on Sandbar Drive, she realized the spotlights proved helpful. They shone on house numbers and turned the search into a deduction game.

  The slow roll of her truck continued to case the homes. Headlights chanced upon a pale concrete seal holding a blue mailbox. Vanessa pushed her foot on the brake to inspect the odd sight. Daniel’s voice popped into her head and provided commentary. Functional artwork? Weird-ass lawn decoration? She envisioned him sitting in the passenger seat, scratching the top of his head, his long muscular tree-trunk legs bunched up. Something out there for everybody, I guess.

  An amalgam of a laugh and a cry escaped her mouth. She banged her palms on the steering wheel and berated herself with a mumble. “Pull it together.”

  Her tear-filled gaze darted back and forth along the lawn. A dolphin stencil covered the garage door. The numbers written along the side of the mailbox, next to the seal’s flippers, read 1181.

  Mom lives right next door to Jacques Cousteau. A giddy, teetering-on-mad laugh filled the cab’s interior. She must absolutely detest walking past this.

  The exterior of the next home resembled a Spanish villa. She could make out red terra cotta shingles and an arched front door. Once she confirmed the address was indeed 1183 and matched her destination, Vanessa parked the truck along the side and turned off the ignition.

  An illuminated bay window showed signs of life. Part of a large flat screen television visible to the outside world played a black and white film. Crystal did love Clark Gable. She’s probably watching It Happened One Night for the hundredth time.

  The telltale ring of Daniel calling made Vanessa jump in her seat. Her finger hovered over the decline button. He’ll know something’s up if I do that. If it’s another butt dial, the message might go on for an eternity. She waited until the call switched over to voicemail. Less than a minute later, she listened to his voice.

  “Vanessa, where are you? I’m home. You’re not. Call me as soon as you get this.” He sounded worried.

  Why did you do it? She recalled hearing her dad question her mom about the same thing numerous times when she was child. When they thought I was in bed asleep and couldn’t hear them argue.

  A palpable pain in her heart had been with her since the first glimpse of those photos. Is this what Dad felt all those years? Why would he have stuck it out for so long? Did he really believe her lies? That she could change?

  She closed her eyes. Daniel’s vision floated in her thoughts. She had come to believe his soul was as beautiful as the rest of him. Even when she had caught Brian in the act of cheating, after the shock wore off, there was a matter-of-factness to it. As if it had always been a possibility.

  But Daniel?

  Vanessa tugged her backpack out of the truck and closed the driver’s side door with a soft click. She forced her feet up the concrete driveway, inhaling the night air. Her muscles were stiff, exhausted. The hand she raised to ring the doorbell weighed a ton.

  After a couple minutes, and a second ring, the door opened. Her mother’s surprised gaze stared at her through the wrought iron decorating the screen door.

  “Vanessa?” Crystal’s powder-blue-coated lids blinked like something was stuck in both eyes.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  The screen door swung toward Vanessa. “What’s wrong? Is Bruce all right?” She beckoned her in with a sweeping hand gesture. Her coiffed bleach-blonde bob resembled a football helmet.

  “Dad’s fine.” Vanessa stepped in. A diffuser on top of a crescent-shaped table emitted smells of vanilla and cinnamon.

  Her mom shut both doors and whirled in front of her. She caught a whiff of Crystal’s signature scent—Chanel and cigarettes. Her hands reached out to grab Vanessa then retreated just as quickly. “Why are you here, hun?”

  I’m running away, just like you did. “I… I need a place to crash tonight. Can I stay here?”

  “Of course! But...”

  Vanessa peeked into the empty living room. “Is Roger sleeping?”

  “He’s away for work.”

  Vanessa nodded. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here.”

  “Are you in trouble?” Crystal ran a circle around Vanessa, looking her up and down.

  “I need to sleep, Mom. I’ll talk about it in the morning. You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone I’m here if they call. Not Daniel. Not Dad.”

  “You’re scaring me. What happened?” She slid her fingers back and forth along the pearls of her necklace.

  “I’m not sure myself. Please, Mom, no more questions.”

  Crystal looked her over from top to bottom. She tipped her head to the hall. “Guest room’s this way.” She crossed her arms, clasping both elbows with her palms, and led the way in cream pumps. A pair of mint capris hugged her mom’s figure. Vanessa had always envied how trim Crystal kept herself. Even now in her mid-fifties, she looked svelte in a loud print top splattered with a half-dozen colors, including a mint that coordinated with her pants.

  A click of a light switch presented the guest room. Sea foam walls and watercolor paintings brightened the space and contrasted with the dark walnut dresser and the queen bed’s wrought iron headboard. The whirring fan blades threw shadows across the ceiling. One of the bulbs peeking out of the fan’s votives blinked like a strobe light.

  “Shoot.” Crystal turned the light off and on again, but the light continued to misbehave. “I’ll have to get Roger to fix that when he gets back.” She turned it off and made her way to a lamp in the corner.

  Vanessa dropped her backpack on the floor and climbed onto the bed. She ducked under the blades slowly coming to a halt and tapped a finger on the bulb to ensure it wasn’t too hot to touch. With a few turns, she secured it and hopped off the mattress. She went back to the switch and turned on the fan. “There. No more seizure-inducing mood lighting.”

  Crystal smiled. “You should get some rest. But if you’re hungry, I have some leftovers in the fridge, and the bathroom is at the end of the hall.”

  Vanessa motioned to the bed. “This is all I need for now. Thanks, Mom.”

&nb
sp; Crystal approached Vanessa and gave her a small peck on the cheek and left the room.

  *

  A frantic knock on the screen door jolted Daniel from his thoughts. He bolted off the couch and rushed to open the front door.

  Nate greeted him on the porch. “Have you heard from her?” His spiky dreads almost brushed the top of the doorframe as he passed over the threshold.

  Daniel shook his head.

  “What did Bruce say?” Nate wandered around the living room, inventorying the scene with a serious gaze. When Daniel didn’t respond, Nate studied him next. “You didn’t call him?” Nate’s mouth hung open.

  “She’s gone.”

  Nate cocked his hip out and placed a hand upon it. “No shit, Sherlock.”

  “It will only worry him.”

  Nate gave a dramatic wave. “And we should be the only two to have this honor? It’s two thirty in the morning, and Vanessa isn’t home. Call him, Danny. Or I’ll call my friend down at the station.”

  Daniel pulled something out of his pocket. “After I talked to you, I went through the entire house from top to bottom. She packed a bag. She left.”

  “Left?”

  “I couldn’t stay home and just wait around. I headed to the store to try and figure out what the hell happened. I found this in the shop.” He unfolded the photo and showed it to Nate.

  Nate’s ebony eyes widened and bulged out of his sockets. He snatched the photo from Daniel’s hand. “What in the hell is this? Are you and Vanessa into bondage?”

  Daniel sighed. “I wasn’t with Vanessa when that was taken.”

  Nate’s head whipped back in surprise. “What? Was this from before you met her?”

  “Not according to the date in the corner.”

  “September of last year. I can’t believe you cheated on her.”

  Hands waved in defense. “I didn’t! I don’t even remember this… whatever this was.” He pointed at the photo. “I think this is when I went to New York with Jack. Remember, the taping I had to go to?”

  Nate shrugged and handed the photo back. “You don’t have to try and convince me. I’m not your wife.” He pursed his lips and folded his arms.

  “Nate, I swear. You know me.”

  “Sure ’nough do. You were quite the man about town. Maybe you couldn’t quite shake your old ways.”

  “I love Vanessa. I would never hurt her like this.”

  “So, she saw this and ran off?”

  “That’s the only explanation. She’s not answering the phone or responding to texts. She’s turned off her GPS so I can’t locate her.”

  “Hm. If she goes to Bruce, you might as well start digging your own grave.” Nate shook his head. “I’m still not understanding how this photo got in your shop.”

  “There’s a phone number on the back.” He tossed the photo onto the coffee table. “I’ve been calling it all night. But no one’s answering. Brian’s got to be behind it.”

  “The stalker ex?” Nate’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t remember anything related to that picture and how you got yourself shackled to a bed half nekkid?”

  Daniel’s cheeks flushed. “If it’s the night I’m thinking, I was at a party with Jack. We were at Ned’s apartment in New York City. I’d been drinking. But not enough to pass out, have that happen, and be totally oblivious.” He slumped onto the couch and held his head in his hands.

  “You need to check in with Jack to match up the date. That man lives and dies by his calendar. How’d you feel the next morning?”

  Daniel mumbled. “Hungover.”

  “Run-of-the-mill hangover?”

  He looked up at Nate. “No. I felt like shit the entire day.”

  Nate chewed his bottom lip. “You may have been roofied.”

  “Why the hell…” Daniel clamped his mouth shut.

  “If that psycho is wrapped up in all of this, nothing is out of the realm of possibility. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends who did not take hints about the finality of a relationship. Even if they were hit over the head with it.”

  Daniel wrung his hands. “Shit. That means anything could have happened. Nate, I could have put Vanessa at risk.”

  “One crisis at a time.” Nate held up a hand. “That’s all my tender heart can manage.”

  His jaw clenched. He felt his face heat up. “I’m going to kill Brian.”

  “Let’s try to find Vanessa first before your ass goes all Rambo on that suit.” Nate sat beside Daniel. “Text her.”

  “I’ve sent her a dozen already. It’s no use. She won’t answer.”

  “Maybe I can get through to Deep Throat.” An attempt to dial the number on the photo yielded no response on the other end of the line. Nate tried again. He sighed after the same result. “My buddy at the station might have some ideas.”

  “First thing in the morning, I’ll call Jack. His cousin in Chicago, the guy we went to meet, is already looking into stuff that’s probably tied in with all of this.”

  Nate clamped a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks for coming by after your shift. You should get home.”

  “You need to let me know if you hear from her. I don’t care what time it is.”

  “Sure.”

  Nate let himself out. Daniel leaned back into the couch cushions. “How am I going to fix this?”

  *

  Hours of tossing and turning forced Vanessa out of the guest bedroom. She crept down the hall and into the kitchen with bare feet. Her fingers tugged on the fridge handle. Light from the appliance’s interior cascaded across Vanessa and the floor of the dark room. A cursory glance at the glass-covered dishes did little to figure out the contents. She sighed and grabbed the milk carton, placing it on the counter. Cabinet doors opened and closed in a futile attempt to find a glass. She turned and saw her mom in the doorway, wearing dusty-rose cotton pajamas.

  “I keep them on the shelf under the island.” A silk scarf wrapped around her head, protecting her hairdo.

  Vanessa nodded and located a glass with yellow daisies. “Thanks.”

  “I’ve got some pasta I can warm up. There’s chicken.” Crystal stood on the other side of the island. Her hands could not seem to find a natural position to rest in as she offered suggestions. “How about breakfast?”

  Vanessa shook her head. “It’s two in the morning. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I’m a light sleeper. I wake up if Roger changes the channel in the living room and I’m in bed.” She slid onto a stool. “It’s not my business…”

  Vanessa sighed and wandered around to Crystal’s side. She sat on the other stool. “I made it your business showing up on your doorstep tonight.”

  “Did he hit you?” Crystal blurted out the question.

  “What?”

  “Danny, did he hit you?”

  Vanessa opened her mouth in surprise. “No. Why would you think that?”

  Crystal shrugged. “I’ve had a few girlfriends knock at my door in the middle of the night because their boyfriend or husband had turned them into punching bags.”

  “Daniel would never do that.”

  “But he’s done something to hurt you.” Crystal nodded. “Did you find him with another woman?”

  Silence was Vanessa’s response.

  “I thought so. That man didn’t seem like the marrying type to me. Women swarm to him like bees around a honeycomb. I could tell that as soon as I laid eyes on him. And then, with all of this celebrity business and the show—”

  Vanessa cut off her mother. “Maybe that’s why I came here tonight. To find out from a cheater why he would have done that.”

  It was Crystal’s turn to remain quiet.

  “Why did you sneak around when you were married to Dad? Did you change your ways? Or have you been cheating on Roger all this time? Did you cheat on Dad with Roger? Is that why you two have made it work for so long? Are the expectations so low that there’s no reason to expect anything but cheating
?” The questions flowed fast and furious. Tears formed in Vanessa’s eyes. The grip on the glass of milk threatened to break the vessel into shards in her hand.

  “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.” Crystal got up.

  “When I’m like Dad? You used to say the exact same thing to him every Friday night.” She wiped the snot dripping from her nose. “Let’s follow it up with ‘You’re being ridiculous’ while we’re at it. When have you ever, ever really talked to me about why you left Dad the way you did? Did you have to rip his heart out? Wasn’t breaking it over and over again enough?”

  “I wasn’t good enough for your father. What he wanted, what he expected from me… He wanted me to be his angel, his saving grace, his everything. No one can be that for a person forever.”

  “So, you cheated to prove how wrong he was about you?”

  Crystal opened her mouth. She searched for words. “I’ll never be able to explain, baby. Nothing I say will make it right. It was wrong. I was horrible to your father. We just weren’t it for each other.”

  “But you were it for Dad. You still are.”

  She sighed. “I know.” Her fingers rubbed her temples.

  Vanessa steeled her jaw for a second. “You’ll never know how it feels to be the one that was left behind.”

  Crystal placed a hand on Vanessa’s forearm. “I’m sorry for doing that to him. And to you.”

  Vanessa stood up. “Good talk. I’m going to bed now.” The pads of her feet shuffled on the floor back to her room. A pulsing in her brain turned into a dull ache. Exhaustion and devastation mingled through her bloodstream when her head hit the pillow. The adrenaline subsided, and sleep finally claimed her.

  Chapter Three

  Daniel awoke to the rattling of a doorknob. His head shot off the couch cushion. Pounding followed. He rolled and planted his feet on the area rug.

  “Who is it?” he called out.

  A knock now.

  He got up and peeked out the porch window. Two men in gray suits waited in silence. One man unbuttoned his jacket, and Daniel glimpsed a holster.