Friends and Lovers Read online

  “No holding out on me when you finally get your dick slick, big guy.”

  Wes snorted. “Right, I’m going to tell you.”

  “You say that like it’d be a bad thing.”

  “Said the guy who told me, what…” He checked his watch. “…ten minutes ago how he satisfied his wife last night.” Wes shuddered. “Sometimes less is more, my friend. I hope to hell I don’t see Vickie for a while because I don’t think I can look her in the eye. And knowing what I know now, through no fault of my own I might add, I’m not even sure I can face your daughter. As little as I care about Becca’s Campfire Girls, I’d still rather hear about that than what you do to her mother in the bedroom.”

  “But that’s the point. I tell you about my sexcapades. You owe me.”

  “I don’t owe you. I seriously don’t want to know your hairy details.”

  “You’re not nearly as fun as Barber,” Chuck said ruefully, referring to his former partner as he hung a left across the intersection.

  “Remember that.”

  Wes eased back in his seat and reviewed Lauren’s call with a contented smile. He couldn’t believe how good it felt that she’d turned to him. Whether she planned it that way or not she’d just given him another excuse to see her again. He was determined to chip away at Lauren’s dislike, her distrust, and hopefully gain his own place in her life apart from his sister.

  Then, as if a switch was thrown inside of him, Lauren’s call was forgotten and Wes’s entire body tensed. His eyes narrowed as he read the plate on the car ahead of them. “There it is.”

  Wes grabbed the radio. “Durban 2460, we have a 10-32 Code 9, driving a blue, late model Ford Taurus plate TZY431 northbound on Fisher Junction. Request backup.”

  “Copy 2460. Be advised, there may be children in the car.”

  “Copy.”

  Their lights and siren went on as they closed the distance. The driver glanced in his rearview mirror, but he continued to drive for half a block before finally pulling alongside the curb. Chuck pulled behind him.

  Unsnapping their holsters and drawing their weapons, they threw their doors wide and took cover behind them.

  “Put the vehicle in park and step out of the car with your hands on your head!” Chuck yelled.

  The man placed his left hand on top of his head but his right arm remained hidden and the brake lights burned bright.

  “Out of the vehicle now!” Chuck yelled again.

  Still no compliance.

  Wes tried. “Think of your kids, Mr. Carter. Shut off the engine and exit the car calmly and no one will get hurt.”

  Without warning the sedan spun its wheels and barreled back into traffic, narrowly missing a Honda Civic.

  “Shit!” yelled Wes, and they jumped back into their car.

  Chuck flipped on the siren and gave chase while Wes got back on the radio, giving an update and the direction they were heading.

  The pursuit ended three minutes later when Carter swerved to avoid a bus and plowed into a fire hydrant instead. A sweet smelling steam from the radiator gysered out of the crumpled hood and the man laid his head against the steering wheel and wept, his sobs almost as heart wrenching as the crying coming from the backseat.

  Wes ran to check on the two young kids while Chuck hauled their father out from behind the wheel and threw him down on the hood.

  Wes’s first concern was to assess the condition of the children and keep them calm. He opened the back door and squatted down to their level, giving the distressed kids a reassuring look.

  “It’s okay,” he told them, using his voice and presence to distract them from the arrest of their father.

  “Where’s Mommy?” the girl asked, her voice breaking.

  “She’s waiting for you.”

  “Is Daddy in trouble?” The boy sniffled.

  “Don’t worry about that right now. Let me see if you’re hurt.”

  Wes was relieved to learn their father cared enough to make sure they were buckled in before he took custody issues into his own hands. But that little fact was going to be overshadowed by his reckless flight with the kids in the backseat.

  Only after Carter was put into the second squad car and taken away did Wes transfer the kids and their belongings into his car. There was a tearful reunion ahead of them, unfortunately complicated by their father’s desperate actions.

  * * * *

  When Wes got home he tossed his keys onto the end table and pulled the phone out of his pocket, calling Lauren’s number. It rang twice before she picked up.

  “Lauren?”

  “Wes?”

  He smiled, loving how his name sounded when she said it. “Yeah, it’s me. What can I do for you?”

  There was a slight pause. “Like I said, I was kind of hoping you could give me some gift ideas for the baby shower. You have to know more than I do what Sherry could use. What she’d appreciate most.”

  “I know she’s registered at Sears and she has this strange Winnie the Pooh thing going for the nursery, but that’s the extent of what I know. Why don’t I swing by and pick you up? Are you still at the shelter?”

  “No, I got home fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I can pick you up there.”

  She hedged, “I don’t want to be a pain.”

  “Never. I need to get them something anyway. We can help each other out.”

  “You’d really do that?”

  “I’d appreciate the help.”

  Lauren snorted. “Well, I don’t know how much help I’m going to be. I’m not exactly used to shopping for babies either.”

  Wes chuckled. “We’ll manage. How about it?”

  “Sure, I guess. When will you get here?”

  “Ten minutes tops.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  Lauren could feel her heart racing. “I better get ready.”

  * * * *

  Because neither had eaten yet they caught a quick, unappetizing dinner in the food court before heading to the department stores.

  “Hey, this is the crib, the one Sherry bought a month ago,” Wes said, running his hand along the rail.

  Lauren looked up from the diaper bag she was inspecting and her expression softened as she took in the Pooh bear themed bumper pad and comforter. “Oh my God. That’s really cute.”

  “She has the whole set.”

  “Changing table too?”

  Wes nodded. “I think she even bought the matching dresser.”

  Lauren groaned. “What the heck did she leave for the rest of us?”

  “You’d buy her furniture?”

  Lauren gave him a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe.”

  “You don’t have to get all extravagant, you know.”

  “But I want to.” Her pout did him in.

  “Then how about the rocking chair? She doesn’t have one of those and it goes with the rest.”

  Lauren sat down and tried it out. As far as Wes was concerned there was something very right about a simple rocking chair, and seeing a woman in it merely strengthened that opinion. It gave him a warm feeling inside just looking at Lauren gently rocking. The only thing missing in this otherwise perfect picture was a baby in her arms.

  The idle thought was out before he could stop it and Wes shook it off, mildly concerned by the suggestion. He was disturbed—seriously, alarmingly disturbed.

  “What do you think?” he asked with a curiously gruff voice.

  “I like it, but it’s expensive and it’ll never fit in my little car.”

  He pondered the dilemma. “And I can pretty much guarantee Sherry won’t accept it.” Lauren looked up in dismay, but Wes held up his hand. “Unless we go in on this gift together. She wouldn’t pass this up if it came from me too. Let’s split the cost, and I can bring it over in my car.”

  Lauren smoothed her hands down the arms. “I can see her in this, rocking the baby.” She gave him a deliberate nod. “Let’s do it.”

  Her words weren’t
calculated to stir his blood but they did anyway. Wes covered it beautifully with a brusque nod of his own. “Deal.”

  To their relief, an employee took the rocker down in a service elevator for them. Wes took off to bring his car around to the service entrance and together, he and Lauren loaded the chair into the back. Unfortunately he underestimated his trunk space, or maybe it was simply the shape of the chair. Regardless, they needed bungee cords to hold the trunk closed.

  When Wes dropped Lauren at her apartment thirty minutes later, they shared another awkward goodbye. As he drove away, he wondered if it would ever get easier.

  * * * *

  Lauren walked into the bathroom and scrutinized herself in the mirror. All in all it wasn’t a bad face. Her bone structure was good, her eyes wide and intelligent, and her skin had a healthy luster, but there was something missing. She played with expressions; pouting, pursing, performing for the mirror. Then she smiled and had her answer. There was no warmth, no spirit in her smile. Her eyes were flat, her smiles rare, and it showed.

  Disappointed in what she saw, Lauren turned from the mirror and stepped into the shower.

  How could she hope to attract Wes when she was a degree or two away from a living mannequin? She had about as much animation as a Botox patient. To her chagrin she saw herself as that blasted picture hanging in Wes’s living room, nothing remotely appealing about it until he turned the lights on. Could he do the same for her? Would he?

  Wait a second, why should he? Wasn’t it her job to make an effort? How long had it been since she’d engaged in playful banter or broke into spontaneous laughter? The honest truth? Too long.

  It struck her as she shampooed that she was looking to Wes in much the same way she had looked to Sherry during sophomore year. How strange she would come to see two very different people from the same family as her lifelines.

  Lauren expelled a disgusted breath and rinsed off, berating herself for being such a pathetic creature. It was wrong, really wrong to want Wes to rescue her from the doldrums. He didn’t need that. He didn’t need her. If she didn’t shape up and make an effort to revive her moldering personality, their recent excursions were going to be nothing more than memories. She had enough regrets, particularly where Wes was concerned. The last thing she wanted to do was add to them.

  She shut off the water, stepped out, and reached for the towel. Her mind circled and curled around Wes while she pressed and squeezed her hair dry. He was an incredible person, as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside. He not only brought up volunteering, he followed through on it and asked for nothing in return. When she was troubled he lent his ear, and a quarter, a silly quarter so she could make a wish. He was making himself available in ways she never expected. It pleased her to recognize that even as a dreamy-eyed teenager with absolutely no life experiences to guide her, she’d still managed to bestow her heart on someone worthy of it. No wonder she never got over Wes. She wanted him more desperately than ever.

  It was time to shape up and step away from her no frills existence and reconnect with her personality, because if she didn’t make her company more enjoyable even their seedling of a friendship could be in jeopardy. The thought made her shudder. She didn’t think she could endure Wes’s absence again.

  Though she couldn’t really afford it, Lauren decided a shopping trip was in order. Her closet was teeming with business suits in uninspired colors, sensible heels, and no-nonsense blouses. Her wardrobe was as lackluster as her personality nowadays. That had to change.

  Chapter 8

  Because Gloria Fields Crisis Center was a short-term shelter intended to transition women out of dangerous situations and into safer, long-term alternatives they were losing two residents and gaining two more in one day. That wasn’t unusual. It was one of the reasons Lauren went in to work early, but she also had a second, more personal objective. She was going to make a delicate appeal to Jackie.

  Lauren was hard at work when Jackie showed up twenty minutes later, right on time.

  Jackie frowned at her from the connecting doorway. “You’re here early. Is something wrong?”

  Lauren bit her lip and eased back from her keyboard. “I was hoping to talk to you about something this morning. Have you got a minute?”

  “You know I do. Ask away.”

  Lauren fiddled with the paperclip box on her desk, trying to get the words out. “Would you be willing to go shopping with me tonight?” she finally asked.

  Jackie beamed. “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  “Well, it’s about time! Girl, I’ve been waiting for the chance to drag you around.”

  Lauren stared at her. “Really?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “How about after work?”

  “Lookin’ forward to it.”

  There was a look in Jackie’s eyes that actually frightened Lauren a little. She looked way too eager.

  “Mmm, mmm,” Jackie said. “I’m going to have fun with you!”

  Lauren might have lost a little color over that statement, but she couldn’t be sure. “Nothing extreme,” she pleaded, knowing it was probably too late to tack on that proviso.

  “Don’t be a fool. You need serious help from a sista and lucky for you, you’re talkin’ to the right one. Trust me.”

  Jackie sauntered out and Lauren drooped back in her chair with a groan. This did not bode well.

  * * * *

  The circular racks seemed to be closing in on Lauren from every direction. She couldn’t squeeze between them without some stray garment clinging to her. The way she frantically brushed at her clothes and leaped backward you would have thought there was a spider on her and not yet another harmless sleeve. Lauren was slowly coming unhinged. She turned her head, searching for her friend with a desperate look in her eyes. To her consternation Jackie didn’t even seem to notice they were drowning in shrieking colors and jarring music while poor Lauren had a severe case of the shakes from system overload.

  “Now this is what I’m talking about,” Jackie declared, turning a slinky dress toward Lauren and jiggling the hanger.

  Lauren staggered up to her and tugged on Jackie’s arm. “Let’s just go. Can we go?”

  Jackie frowned. “But what do you think about this dress?”

  Lauren tried to locate the exit over the endless field of racks. “I don’t think so. What’s the point of buying something like that if I never get to wear it?”

  Jackie rolled her eyes. “This is a date dress. You wear this for a man.”

  “One issue at a time.”

  Jackie harrumphed and put the dress back. “Just so we’re on the same page, tell me what you’re thinking about then, because I’m stumped. You’ve turned your nose up at everything I’ve suggested so far.”

  “It’s my casual wardrobe that needs help. I have plenty of professional clothes. Just remember my budget, because I have my rent payment coming up.”

  Jackie gave her a long suffering look, her hand on her hip.

  Lauren sighed. “I don’t know, think fun, maybe a little sassy—definitely feminine.” She shrank back from the clothing pressing in on her. “Nothing slutty, okay? I don’t like cheap crap.”

  Jackie fixed her with a serious eye. “You need more color.”

  “Agreed, but it better be tasteful.”

  “Come with me.” Jackie grabbed Lauren’s hand and towed her out of the store.

  “Wait a second,” Lauren said, fighting to keep up. “Where are we going?”

  “First things first.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  Jackie pulled Lauren into her favorite salon and walked Lauren backward until her legs hit the edge of the chair behind her and she dropped onto it.

  “But I don’t need a haircut,” Lauren argued, starting to rise.

  Jackie’s warning finger came out. “Bullshit. And you’re getting highlights too.”

  Lauren slumped back peevishly. “I’ve never highlighted my hai
r.”

  Jackie snorted and rolled her eyes. “There’s a surprise.”

  “Come on.”

  “Don’t whine at me. This is going to jump start your new look and give us some direction about colors. So just chill, all right?”

  Lauren snatched a magazine off the table and flipped through it irritably. As far as she was concerned, this was completely unnecessary.

  When her name was called they both went back with the stylist, but as Lauren was lost behind the swirling cape Jackie took over, telling the woman exactly what she had in mind while Lauren fought to interject. She was hushed every time. Both women pulled at Lauren’s hair, fluffed it up, and nodded as they came to a mutual understanding that didn’t require Lauren’s input at all.

  An hour and a half later, Lauren looked at herself in the mirror and had to admit, Jackie knew what she was talking about. The cut was soft around her face yet still easy to manage. She could blow-dry and go, which was important to her. How did Jackie know that? The highlights were subtle but flattering and made Lauren feel younger. Not only that, it looked like she spent more time outdoors than she actually did.

  “Tell me you don’t love it,” said Jackie smugly.

  “I can’t. I love it.”

  “Now we’re ready to shop.”

  * * * *

  They closed down the mall. Lauren had never closed down a mall before. When she dragged herself home she was exhausted, but she still couldn’t resist pulling everything out of the bags to look at what she’d bought. She loved, absolutely loved, the soft linen slacks and matching vest. She had two new flirty skirts and several tops to pair with the skirts or jeans. Then there was lingerie.

  Jackie insisted that rejuvenation begins close to the skin and what gave a woman a confident attitude? Why sexy lingerie, of course! Lauren’s pattern and color choices weren’t exactly what Jackie would have picked and she had found Lauren’s resistance to thong panties downright exasperating, but even Jackie couldn’t deny that the styles were on the right track. Lauren didn’t doubt that in due time Jackie would get her into bolder colors, hot prints, and easy access vamp wear. But for now she seemed content with the fact that baby steps were still steps in the right direction. Rome wasn’t built in a day.