My Sunshine by Catherine Anderson
She never looked back. She just tossed her stuff into her grandmother’s car, climbed in, and slammed the door. The Chrysler crunched over frozen snow to the road. Isaiah stared with burning eyes at the taillights. When the white car had disappeared from sight, he sank numbly onto the steps. Hapless crawled halfway into his lap and whined, almost as if he sensed that something was horribly wrong.
Isaiah grabbed Hapless up in his arms, buried his face in the puppy’s fur, and wept like a baby.
Chapter Fifteen
“Come to my place tonight,” Etta coaxed as they pulled into town.
Laura just wanted to go home so she could cry her eyes out without an audience. “No, thanks, Gram. I need to be by myself for a while.”
“Pooh.” Etta passed the turnoff to Laura’s apartment. “You have no food there.”
“I have stuff in the freezer.” Laura couldn’t imagine eating anything. “I’ll shop for milk and eggs in the morning.”
“Yes, perhaps you will. But for tonight you’ll humor an old lady. I want to talk to you.”
Laura heard it coming. “If you’re hoping to convince me that this is a mistake, save your breath.”
When they reached the house, Etta pushed Laura down onto a chair at the kitchen table, made a pot of tea, and arranged cookies on a plate. “You’ll feel better with a little something in your stomach,” she insisted.
Laura dutifully nibbled on a cookie. Normally she loved Gram’s baked goods, but her taste buds felt anesthetized.
“Now,” Etta said, cupping her dainty, rose-trimmed teacup in her gnarled hands, “talk to me. You were happy as a clam, and now you’re devastated. There must be a reason.”
Laura’s cell phone rang just then. She fished in her purse, found the apparatus, and gazed glumly at the balloon displayed in the window.
“Isaiah?” Gram asked when Laura dropped the phone back into her purse without taking the call.
“I don’t want to talk to him.” Laura was afraid she might lose her resolve if she did. “It’s better this way. Quick and clean.”
Etta sighed and took a sip of tea. “You’re probably right. Men. In the end they’re all bastards.”
Laura couldn’t quite believe her grandmother had said such a thing. “Isaiah isn’t a bastard.”
Etta lowered her cup onto the saucer. “Well,” she conceded, “there are a few exceptions. My Jim was one.” She gave Laura a sidelong look. “And maybe your Isaiah is as well. If so, why are you leaving him?”
Laura recounted the conversation that she’d overheard between Isaiah and his brother. “Tucker made some very good points.”
“Such as?”
Laura’s throat went tight. “I can’t hobnob at classy dinners and fund-raisers, Gram. Isaiah may want to teach someday—or do research. He’ll need to get grants for that. It’s all a poli-tical game, and the best players get the goodies. You have to walk the walk and talk the talk.”
Etta nodded. “I imagine so. But what’s to say you can’t? You’re a lovely person, Laura.”
“I can’t speak very well.”
“You’re talking quite well right now. Slowly, I admit, with a little hesitation between each word, but it’s barely noticeable.”
Laura recalled Rosie’s candid question: Do you have a speech impediment? The people in Laura’s family loved her. She was glad of that, and she appreciated it. But they overlooked a lot that other people couldn’t or wouldn’t.
“I don’t want to hold Isaiah back.” Laura met her grandmother’s gaze. “Tell me I won’t, Gram. Tell me that I can hold my own with the wives of professors at big, important colleges where pol-itics are the name of the game. You tell me that, and I’ll call Isaiah right now and tell him I’ve made a mistake.”
Etta sat there for a long moment, staring at Laura. Then her rheumy eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head.
It was all the answer Laura needed.
Laura called her parents. Her father answered. Fighting to keep her voice steady, Laura said, “Hi, Daddy.”
“Laurie? How’s my little girl?”
Laura smiled through tears, glad to hear her father’s deep voice. “I’ve been better.”
“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good. Something go haywire with the job?”
As briefly as possible, Laura told her father about all that had happened. Mike Townsend was silent for a beat when Laura stopped talking.
“If he loves you, Laura, none of that university and research business will matter a damn to him.”
It mattered to Laura, and she feared that someday it might matter a great deal to Isaiah as well. “That isn’t really why I called. I’m in a spot of trouble, like I said. Can you send me some money to pay for a lawyer? I’ll pay you back. I just can’t right now.”
“How much do you need?” Mike asked.
Laura sighed. “I don’t know. A couple of thousand will do for a start.”
“I’ll wire it tomorrow.”
Laura squeezed her eyes closed. “When this mess is cleared up, I’d like to move down there, Daddy.”
“To Florida, you mean?”
“There should be lots of housework,” she said with a tremulous laugh. “All those retired women wanting to go to potlucks and parties.”
“There is that,” her father agreed. “And lots of dogs to walk as well.”
“I’m tired of all this snow,” Laura lied. “Down there I’ll be able to soak up some rays. Maybe I’ll even try swimming again.”
Laura didn’t tell her father that there was another very good reason for her move to Florida. It was almost four thousand miles from Isaiah Coulter. She couldn’t bear the thought of running into him in town. Just seeing him from a distance would break her heart. Better that she make a clean break and never look back.
“You know we’d love to have you with us, sweetheart.”
Laura thought of all the brain supplements her mother would force upon her and almost cringed. She loved her parents. But a little distance as a buffer zone had been awfully nice.
Isaiah barely slept that night. Even though Trish had come to get the puppies, he woke up every three hours, on the dot, and then just lay there, listening to the awful silence. He’d tried to phone Laura several times before coming to bed. She wasn’t taking his calls.
The following morning he was gritty-eyed and exhausted when he got to the clinic at six. Susan had already opened, which was normal on a weekday. Isaiah grunted a greeting to her as he passed through the kennels. When he entered the surgery, he was surprised to see Belinda.
“You’re here bright and early,” he said as he slung his coat over a hook and swept off his new Stetson.
“I thought I’d come in and make sure everything was okay to roll,” she said. “Robberies don’t happen every day, after all.”
Isaiah stepped to the sink to scrub his hands. Then he checked his appointment roster. The world hadn’t stopped turning. He had three surgeries scheduled for late morning, an afternoon that was booked back-to-back with appointments, and another two surgeries in the late afternoon. He went to check on the guide dog. The shepherd looked perky and happy to see him.
“Hey, buddy.” Isaiah crouched down to examine the dog’s gums. “Looking good,” he said, trying to be his usual cheerful self, but somehow he couldn’t quite muster a smile. He missed Laura so much. It had been only a little over twelve hours since he’d seen her, but he felt as if it had been a year. “You’ll be getting your walking papers soon.”
The shepherd whined and nudged Isaiah’s hand for petting. Isaiah obliged for a moment and then pushed to his feet. No matter what happened in his personal life, he still had a job to do. First thing in the morning he always made rounds to check on his patients. He wouldn’t neglect his responsibilities simply because things weren’t going well for him privately. These animals were counting on him.
“What’s the news on Laura?” Belinda asked.
“No news at all yet.”
Belinda grabbed his wrist and drew it back to her chest. “Yum. That felt good.”
Isaiah had been taken by surprise a few times, but her behavior totally sideswiped him. As he closed the cage, he tried to withdraw his arm. Belinda toppled against him if he’d pulled her toward him. Her breasts smashed against his chest. She gyrated her hips seductively against his pelvis. He stared stupidly into her brown eyes and wondered what the hell he’d done to bring this on.
“Laura’s not here. I am,” she said huskily. “Chances are she’ll go to jail. Drug offense.” She clucked her tongue. “Serious business, that. A felony, isn’t it? If you plan to marry her, you may have a very long wait.” She pushed her hips against him again. “A man has needs. I’d love to take care of yours.”
Isaiah’s body wasn’t connected to his brain. When she rubbed against him, things happened. It wasn’t about desire. It wasn’t about emotion. Heck, he woke up with a hard-on when he needed to take a leak.
“Belinda, I—”
“You talk too much,” she whispered.
Before Isaiah guessed what she meant to do, she locked her arms around his neck. The next instant her tongue was in his mouth. He tried to set her away from him. She clung like a leech. He finally managed to wrench his face to one side.
“This isn’t happening,” he ground out.
She rubbed her breasts against him. “You want me. I can feel it. You’re hard as a rock and throbbing for me.”
He was semihard, an anatomical reaction to uninvited stimulus. “No, Belinda. I’m sorry.” He pried her arms loose and firmly set her away from him. “You’re a pretty lady, but—”
She was wearing a tight zip-up sweater. She grabbed the tab. With a downward tug she bared her breasts. She wore no bra. Toying with her nipples to make them hard, she smiled. “Imagine your mouth on them, Isaiah. Imagine burying yourself in me. I’m already hot—and wet. We could do it on a table, or on the boxes in one of the storage rooms.”
He couldn’t believe this was happening. “Cover yourself. Susan could walk in.”
“Do you think she’s never seen two people getting it on?” She rolled her eyes. “Hmm, maybe not. She’s built like a block.”
Isaiah moved away. “Zip up. I’m not interested.”
Silence. He stepped over to the counter. His hands were shaking as he flipped through the patient charts to update his notes. He couldn’t make sense of the entries.
“You son of a bitch!” she cried. “You’re a limp-dicked excuse for a man.”
Throbbing for her one second and limp the next? That was interesting. Isaiah tossed down the pen and turned to face her.
Red-faced and trembling with rage, she jutted her chin at him. “I love you!” she cried, the impassioned declaration making her naked breasts jiggle. “I’m the one who’s right for you. Why can’t you see that? Instead you ignore me and pant after that stupid, moronic kennel keeper.”
Isaiah’s mind went cold with realization. “Oh, my God,” he whispered. “It was you.”
Belinda strode angrily across the room, doubled her fist, and swung. Isaiah caught both her wrists just before she planted her knuckles on his mouth. “It was you all along,” he said, still incredulous. “You imagined we might get together. When Laura came along, you got jealous and started trying to get rid of her.”
Belinda drew her head back and spat in his face. Isaiah blinked. Never in all his life had he been so tempted to hit a woman. But that wasn’t the Coulter way, and he wasn’t about to compromise his standards for the likes of her.
“You stole the drugs and planted them in Laura’s car,” he accused. “Somehow you got your hands on her security code. All you cared about was getting her out of here.”
“Prove it, asshole.”
She wrenched her wrists free and whirled to leave the room, bare breasts swinging. Isaiah was right on her heels. “Not so fast, sweet cheeks. You’ve got some questions to answer and a small matter with the police to settle.”
“Fuck you!”
Isaiah followed her up the hall. He was tempted to grab her arm, but if he did that she’d undoubtedly start swinging. She was a sturdy woman. Being a man, he was at a disadvantage because he couldn’t fight back. He figured he could probably subdue her, but in the doing he might hurt her. Better to let the cops handle her.
They reached the lobby. Val, the only office employee who came in early, was standing over the fax machine. She whirled around when Belinda skirted the counter and entered the workstation. Belinda promptly burst into tears, which took Isaiah totally by surprise.
“Help me!” she shrieked, and ducked behind Val as if for protection. “Oh, God, Val. Don’t let him near me. H-he tried t-to r-rape me. We were in the s-surgery, and all of a s-sudden he jumped m-me. Look, just look. His fly is still bulging.”
Isaiah almost clamped a hand over his crotch. Oh, shit. It would be his word against hers. Who the hell would ever believe him?
Val gave Isaiah a long look. Then she ran her gaze over Belinda’s denuded breasts. “Bullshit,” the office manager said. “I’ve been here since this place opened. A lot of good-looking babes have come and gone, honey. None of them ever had a problem.”
“It happened!” Belinda cried.
“In your dreams, maybe.”
Belinda made a bestial sound low in her throat, and the next instant the fax machine went crashing to the floor.
“Hey!” Isaiah yelled when the crazed woman headed for the office files. “Stop it, Belinda. What the hell are you doing? That’s vital information on hundreds of animals!”
When he grabbed her arm to stop her from tearing folders from the shelf and throwing them to the floor, she whirled and attacked with fists, fingernails, teeth. Isaiah didn’t want to smack her, but, oh, man, he was tempted.
“Belinda, stop it!” he cried.
She just kept swinging. He took a right hook to the eye, a left to his nose. The blows didn’t really hurt, but Isaiah crossed his arms over his head and doubled over at the waist to protect his face anyway.
The woman had gone clear over the edge. Isaiah had never seen anyone lose it so completely.
“Val, call the cops!” Instead of racing for the phone, Val stepped in close and said, “Belinda?”
When Belinda stopped pounding on Isaiah long enough to glance over her shoulder, the wiry office manager smiled sweetly, and then she swung, nailing Belinda squarely in the face with a knotted fist. The tech dropped to her knees like a bag of wet cement.
“My nose! My nose!” Belinda cried.
Val stood at the ready to hit her again. “He can’t fight back, you vicious little tramp, but I’m more than willing. You want to go a round or two with me, honey? Please, make my day.”
Belinda scrambled to get away. Isaiah was already diving for the phone when the tech gained her feet and dashed from the building. Val started after her. Isaiah caught the office manager’s arm.
“Let her go,” he said. “The police can deal with her.”
Val sighed and dusted her hands on her slacks. “What a pity. I was just getting warmed up.”
An hour later Isaiah sat in his office with a grandfatherly police officer who’d asked him dozens of questions and been taking copious notes. Isaiah liked the fellow. He had gray hair, a ruddy complexion, and intelligent blue eyes.
“This isn’t a mere fixation,” Isaiah encapsulated, “but a sick obsession. I never encouraged Belinda. She just somehow got it into her head that we had a future together.”
“It happens,” Officer Keenan said. “People think it’s always men. How wrong they are.” He closed his tablet and put the pen in his pocket. “Your theories on the drug theft make sense to me. If you and Ms. Townsend forgot to lock her ca
“Is Laura in the clear, then?”
Keenan smiled. “I sense you’re fond of the lady.”
Isaiah nodded. “You could say that.”
The officer pushed to his feet. “She’s not entirely off the hook, but I’m leaning very strongly in that direction. Let me run a background check on Ms. Baxter. Men and women who become obsessive about members of the opposite sex usually have a history of such behavior.”
“How long do you think that will take?”
“With the information you’ve given me, I may be able to come up with something by tomorrow. The background check itself will take much longer.”
“You’re going to call the college she attended?”
“And all the employers she listed on her job application.” Keenan settled his billed hat on his head. “Next time around you might be wise to check out all the references yourself before you hire someone, Dr. Coulter. These days you just never know about people.”
Isaiah couldn’t argue the point. He’d been shorthanded when Belinda had applied for a job. She’d been well qualified. He’d bypassed all the preliminaries and hired her on the spot. “I’ll be more careful from now on—I guarantee that.”
After Officer Keenan left, Isaiah tried once again to call Laura. The phone rang and rang. Finally her recorded message clicked on. Hearing her voice, so halting and sweet, almost brought tears to his eyes. He wished she would at least talk to him. Evidently she was screening her calls, and when a balloon came up in the window, she knew not to answer.
He thought about going to her apartment, but a quick glance at his watch had him springing to his feet instead. He had surgery in ten minutes. Love would have to wait.