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Once a Good Girl.... Wendy S. MarcusЧитать онлайн книгу.

Once a Good Girl... - Wendy S. Marcus


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hug?” he asked, half teasing. In anticipation of seeing Ali he’d visualized their happy reunion. They’d been pals, both with difficult home lives. They’d looked out for one another. It’d been Ali who’d suggested Victoria tutor him when the thought of failing out of high school hadn’t bothered him all that much. He owed her, planned to help her out if she needed it. But from the looks of her, and the size of the diamond engagement ring on her finger, she’d turned out okay, too.

      “You’re lucky I don’t scratch your eyes out after what you did,” she said.

      And she looked ready to do it. He took a step back, kind of glad to have Tori in the room. “Exactly what did I do?”

      “You stay away from Victoria.” Again the pointing, this time at his chest. “Better yet, go back to where you came from.”

      “Hey,” he said quietly, cupping her bent elbow. “We were friends. What happened?”

      She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of sadness and hurt. “You’re not the person I thought you were. I’m sorry I ever encouraged Victoria to give you a chance.”

      Ali had been one of three people to see something good in him, something of value, at a time when he had been unable to see it himself. Victoria and her Aunt Livi had rounded out the triumvirate.

      The intercom in the room sounded. “Recovery Room on line two, Ali.”

      “Be right there,” she responded without taking her eyes off of him. “Do the right thing, Kyle. Leave. And don’t come back. Victoria’s worked so hard to put her life back together. She’s interested in a man for the first time since you …”

      What? Since he what?

      “You are the last thing she needs right now.”

      With that parting shot, Ali, at one time his closest friend, turned and left.

      Back in town for two days and Kyle had more questions than answers. If Victoria hadn’t cried rape, where had the accusation come from? What was she doing in Madrin Falls, working as a nurse? A caring, competent nurse from what he’d heard and seen, but why hadn’t she gone to Harvard to become a physician as planned? Why was Ali warning him off? Why did Victoria’s life need putting back together? The most stable, together person he knew, why was she suffering panic attacks? Who was Jake and how serious was their relationship?

      Sensitive to turmoil, Tori nuzzled his thigh. He petted her soft head. “We’ll find out, girl.” And since Victoria and Ali didn’t seem eager to enlighten him, after work he’d visit Aunt Livi.

      The small raised ranch-style home looked better than he could ever recall seeing it. Neater. Prettier. The white siding could have passed for new, the once-dingy black shutters gleamed and a bright red door matched what looked like a freshly painted version of the heavy, antique planters he’d lugged out of the garage every spring and back every fall, which sat at either side of the front porch steps.

      The gravel driveway he’d shoveled every winter for years looked newly paved, and the grass he’d mowed summer after summer, while sodden from the winter thaw, seemed fuller, healthier.

      Odds were Livi had finally snagged herself a man with an interest in home maintenance. Good for her. Only knowing she had a man inside made him feel a bit guilty showing up at dinnertime, with an apple pie and an empty stomach.

      The woman knew how to cook, and had never passed up an opportunity to invite Kyle in for a meal. Something he used to thank his lucky stars for, daily.

      A boy responded to his knock. That was unexpected. He looked familiar. Probably because he shared Livi’s kinky red hair.

      “I thought you were the UPS man,” he said with disappointment. “Mom,” he yelled over his shoulder. “There’s a man at the door.”

      The kid looked up at him, got an odd look on his face. Kyle noticed his eyes, the same eyes that stared back at him every time he looked in the mirror.

      “Jake Forley, you know better than to open the door when you don’t know who it is,” a familiar female voice said from the top of the stairs.

      Over the kid’s shoulder Kyle caught a glimpse of Victoria, heading toward the door, looking very at home in pink warm-up pants and a white V-neck T.

      This was Jake? Kyle shifted so Victoria couldn’t see him. “Is that your mom?” Kyle asked quietly.

      The boy nodded.

      “How old are you?”

      “Eight.”

      Holy hell!

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