Bad Habits Part 67

Cain went to her. He took her by the shoulders, forced her to stand, and then folded his arms protectively around her. Maryanne wept and confessed her pain into his chest. All the while he kept her close, wanting desperately to s.h.i.+eld her. "I'm here, Maryanne. I'm right here for you, sweetheart."

The room, a haze of s.h.i.+fting shadows and shapes, slowly came into focus. He blinked once and his vision cleared. His head dropped to the right and suddenly there was light. Too much brightness poured in through the blinds over his bed. His eyes sought the time. The digital clock flashed 12:00 am. It was evidently wrong. Did they lose power?

"s.h.i.+t!" Keith groaned sitting upright. The tension coiled in his neck and snaked down his spine. The bitter aftertaste from the six beers he had the night before soured his tongue. He never overslept. Alarm or not, he was up and ready like clockwork.

"f.u.c.king bulls.h.i.+t," he groaned, recognizing why his game was off. Simone. Not having her by his side royally f.u.c.ked him up. "Son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h!" he grunted, reaching over for his watch. With a belly full of resentful anger, his eyes slipped over to her un-slept side of the bed. The night hadn't gone as planned. He'd bought roses, a bottle of vintage wine, and a diamond necklace that cost him twenty grand. He'd put Al Green in the rotation, and even went as far as to have dinner catered. On the dresser were her unopened gift boxes. Inside one, a black negligee he intended to keep her in, f.u.c.k her in, all night. He'd been looking forward to it for weeks. Instead he was left with the remote and cold pasta to pa.s.s the time away.

Keith s.n.a.t.c.hed up the phone. He knocked over empty beer bottles from the dresser to the floor. Several rolled under the bed. He dialed her cell again and got her voicemail. "So you want to push me there? After all the s.h.i.+t I'm doing for you, for us? Fine! I'll come to New York and drag your a.s.s back here where you belong!" He slammed the phone down. Lately, it was all about her challenging him. When did that start? Was it this city, these people? Was she bored? Whatever the f.u.c.k it was, she'd get over it and quick. He had reached his limit.

On top of all the stressful bulls.h.i.+t with Hollingsworth, he now had to manage a trip in the middle of the week to New York to deal with her. He grabbed the phone again, kicking out of the sheets, s.n.a.t.c.hing on his semi-erect d.i.c.k burning for a p.i.s.s. He went into the bathroom and drained his d.i.c.k, flushed, then dialed her number again. He looked like s.h.i.+t and again all her fault. What was he to do while she played nursemaid to that sister and junkie mother of hers? He missed her. Simone kept him balanced. He couldn't do all of this without her. He counted down the rings until again he got her voicemail. Keith smashed the phone repeatedly on the basin's edge until it crumbled in his hands. Second phone he'd have to replace.

"s.h.i.+t! s.h.i.+t! s.h.i.+t!"

Tossing away the electronic innards, he grunted and gripped the counter. He was losing control. Slowly his head lifted and his rage cooled in his dark eyes. A smirk slid across his lips. He turned and left the bathroom going for the phone on his nightstand. He sat down, dialing the only woman who would understand. "Mom?"

"Keith? Morning, how are you, baby?"

"I thought you said that Simone was ready to come home? That you spoke with her?" Keith said.

"I did speak to her. Wait. She's not there? You said you were going to pick her up yesterday."

"She wasn't at the airport. It's okay though. This thing with her sister is getting out of hand. Do you know what it is? I mean do you know how sick she is? Did Simone say?"

"Ah, hold on."

He waited impatiently for his mother to go into another room beyond the hearing of their servants.

"Sorry, dear. I didn't ask, but I believe Simone was helping with those sweet little boys. Oh honey, I'm sorry she didn't come, and after all that trouble you went through to celebrate."

"Yeah, well it was for nothing," Keith grumbled.

"I didn't want to say anything but-"

"But what?"

"She wants to have a baby, Keith. She is so in love with you. She wants that baby more than anything."

"Does she?" Keith frowned.

"Yes. She was here for that very reason, asking about your medical history, your doctor when you were younger and just trying to find out if there was some reason why she isn't pregnant yet. Of course it's nonsense. We both know you are fine. If there's a problem, it's definitely her."

"She asked for the name of my doctor?" Keith repeated to himself and not his mother.

"When you were in college. I gave it to her."

"What else?" Keith asked.

"Excuse me?"

"What else, d.a.m.n it? What else did you tell her?"

"Keith, sweetheart, calm down."

Keith rose. His mind did a quick rewind over every conversation he'd had with Simone since she left. Something was off. Then the doorbell sounded below.

"Keith? Baby, what's wrong? What did I do?" his mother asked.

"I want you to call Madison. Tell him to get on the whereabouts of Kimberly Jensen. Tell him to call me back as soon as he has something. I'm on my way home!"

"Keith?"

"Do it, Mother! Now, d.a.m.n it! Tell Dad I'll call in a few." He threw the phone to the bed and hurried down the stairs. Simone wasn't hiding from him. She was running. He was sure of it. The uninvited visitor kept at it until he reached the door. Keith s.n.a.t.c.hed it open, oblivious to his state-boxers, no s.h.i.+rt, barefoot. "What the f.u.c.k is it?"

"Keith Livingston?"

"Yes! Who the f.u.c.k are you?"

The young pale-faced blonde, barely in his twenties, handed over a brown envelope. Keith accepted it. His brows knitted together in confusion. "Mr. Livingston, you've been served. Enjoy your day." With that said, the punk kid turned and left. Keith blinked out of his stupor and stepped back. He closed the door, disbelieving. It wasn't possible. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She'd never survive a divorce. Simone knew better.

He opened the envelope and removed the doc.u.ments. A decree, a summons from the state of New York superior court was filed-annulment due to fraud.

"Fraud?" He dropped the envelope, holding the thinly stapled papers as the breath drained from his lungs. He blinked and blinked again, reading the first page then the next. Standing in his cold empty foyer, he digested the complaint, the accusations. The final page was a faxed copy of an 'order of protection'. It was decreed that he is to have no contact with his wife. His wife!

Keith slowly slipped into a final understanding. Simone was leaving him. He crumbled the doc.u.ments, fuming. "b.i.t.c.h!"

"Cain?"

Bonnie Hollingsworth was there. She reached to touch him, but something unintentional in his eyes warned her against it. Cain sat upright, eyes searching for Maryanne. She slept there in her hospital bed peacefully, thanks to sedation.

"How is she?"

"They gave her something," he said, forcing strength to his legs so he could stand.

"But how is she? Does she know?"

He watched as Bonnie went to her daughter, fixed her sheets and stroked her golden hair from her brow. "Did you tell her that she won't be able to have any kids?"

Cain shoved his hands into his pants pockets. Of course he didn't tell her. Between his own anger and disgust was his mounting guilt. Sparing her further pain, no matter how undeserving, became his primary focus.

"Cain?"

"I need to go home, shower, eat, make some calls."

"I'll stay." Bonnie, set down her purse. He watched as she shed her sweater. The Hollingsworths were really good at performing. Here was her mother, pretending again at concern. What mother would let her daughter suffer and do nothing to ease it?

"I suggest you not talk to her about the hysterectomy. They're calling in a Dr. Kramer to sit with her. He's had experience with depressives."

"Depressed? Of course she's depressed. look at what she's been through!" Bonnie scoffed.

"I've signed the papers," Cain said.

"Papers?"

"She's being admitted into Eastbrooke," Cain replied.

"What? No... you can't."

"It's done. She's my wife. It's done."

"Her father won't have it," Bonnie said. The fright in her voice and eyes only angered him more. This wasn't Andrew Hollingsworth's call. Maryanne needed help, and he was going to see to it that she got it. "Doesn't matter. She's going."

Cain walked out, ignoring his mother in-law's protests. He needed air, s.p.a.ce, and distance from them all. As he entered the elevator and stood amongst the surgeons and nurses, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Even now his heart leapt at the thought that it might be Simone.

Sadly, his luck hadn't changed. Of all people, it was Keith Livingston.

"Keith, look, sorry about the office but I have a family issue," Cain said dryly.

"I need you to cover for me!" Keith rushed him.

"Cover?"

"I'm heading to New York, to collect my wife. I'll be gone a day or so."

"Wait! No. You shouldn't. I mean why are you going after Simone? Did something happen?"

There was a silence, an uncomfortable pause. Cain realized how familiar he sounded at evoking Livingston's wife's first name.

"What concern of that is yours?" Keith hissed.

"I...uh? I saw her before she left she said her sister was sick. I just thought-"

"Doesn't matter what you think. My wife isn't your concern. Andrew has a meeting today. Keemler was supposed to go up for its Executive recommendation and approvals. I've signed the project charter, but I need that meeting cancelled. My name is all over those doc.u.ments. We need to contain things. Stall Hollingsworth, until I get back. Can you handle that?"

"Yes. I got it."

Cain walked out of the hospital doors, his heart racing. Did Livingston get the annulment papers? Is that what has him off and running? "I'll keep you posted," he managed, as his heart pumped blood and adrenaline through his veins and ears.

"You do that."

The line clicked off. Cain immediately dialed Simone's number. "Come on, babe, pick up."

She didn't. It went straight to voicemail. The number to her sister's place was back at his house. "f.u.c.k!" He walked briskly through the parked cars in the Emergency parking lot, hurrying to his. He had to warn her. Or maybe he should just go after her. Beat Livingston there. He got inside his car feeling weighed down by helplessness. Whatever he did or didn't do, he was f.u.c.ked. His life just wasn't his own.

"WEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"I got him, Mom!" Simone laughed.

Danny shot past the bed, his little legs pumping hard as he ran for the door. Diane was in the bathroom now trying to coax Denny to sit on the potty. Danny had made a pee for the first time. p.o.o.ping was easy, but a pee was a big deal. This was progress.

"Danny! Come here, baby." As soon as she said it, she spotted him. He stood in front of the television, bottomless. With his training pants in her hand she slowly crept up behind him. Just before she reached him, the doorbell rang. Danny spun around and raced left instead of the antic.i.p.ated right, going for the door. Simone stumbled, barely bracing against the fall that brought her to her knees. Sighing, she got up from the floor and swept him up just as he reached the door. The toddler screamed, kicking and crying, not wanting to be held. It took all her strength to keep from dropping him as she did his training pants. "Who is it?"

"Detective Alverson."

Simone froze. With Danny on her hip crying, she stared at the door.

"Is Simone Livingston home?" he asked.

She looked to the kitchen. She'd turned off all the phones in the house. Today was the day that Keith would be served. She didn't want to think about or hear his rage. Instead she was taking them all to a movie and then to see the boats.

"Yes. Just a minute."

Simone undid the locks. Danny's cries were reduced to hiccups, as he peeked up at the handsome officer.

"Hi, Simone. I'm sorry to disturb you," he began.

"It's okay. Come in please," she said. She'd gotten dressed and groomed before tackling the toddlers with Diane. He flashed her that handsome smooth smile of his as he walked in.

"Simone, where's that little b.u.g.g.e.r?" Diane asked. She appeared with Denny on her hip. When she saw the detective, she frowned. "Who is you?"

"Hi, Detective Alverson," he said, extending his hand. Diane cast her daughter a worried look. She accepted the detective's hand and shook it. "I'm Diane Wilson, Simone's mother. Something wrong? Is it Kimmy?"

"No, Ma. Take Danny inside and put him on a pull-up."

Diane hesitated, but Danny walked over holding his wee-wee. She picked him up and called to Denny. The three of them disappeared back into the hall.

"Looks like I've interrupted?"

"Yeah, well dress up time is always fun with the boys," Simone smiled.

"I tried calling but-"

"It's fine, really. Have a seat, please," Simone gestured. She nervously followed him to the sofa. Together they sat. His eyes were on her the entire time. It didn't make her that uncomfortable, but she blushed sensing why he stared.

"Is it about my order of protection?" Simone asked.

"Yes."

"I spoke to my attorney. I know he'll receive it with the papers, and the sheriff at Castle Rock has a copy. She said he will pay him a visit too. I know the procedure. Is there something more?"

"Actually yes. There was a visit to my station this morning as I was pulled in." He cleared his throat. "Normally I wouldn't be this involved, but I was the one to take your complaint."

Simone frowned. "I don't understand? Who visited you?"