13
"Well, did you tell her?" Dawn said when Jeremy stepped through the door. "Did she get the message?"
He put on an uncertain look. As before, he had to play this carefully. Even more carefully than the last time.
"I… I don't think so. I don't think she'll ever leave us be."
Dawn stepped closer, a concerned look on her face.
"What do you mean?"
Jeremy looked away. Now the touchy part. Had to hold back and let her think she was prying it out of him.
"Nothin."
"Nothing? Come on! You threatened her with a lawyer and what did she say?"
"It's not what she said. It's what she did."
"What, damn it!"
He loosed a long sigh. "I'm not sure how to tell you this… not sure I even want to."
"What do you mean?" Dawn took a step back. "She didn't try to hurt you, did she? Did she have her gun?"
Oh, this was perfect, perfect.
"I almost wish she had."
"What are you saying?""
Another sigh, then he turned and gave her a forlorn look as he hit her with the money shot.
"She came on to me."
The color drained from her face. "What?"
"I was afraid you wouldn't believe me. You thought I was lyin about her tryin to buy me off and—"
"No!" She waved her hands. "No, it's just—are you sure?"
"Well, she was wearin some sort of red robe that she took off and there she was, standin right in front of me bold as day in her birthday suit."
Jeremy knew about the robe from his explorations of the house the few times he and Dawn had had the place to themselves.
"No! She'd never! What did she say!"
"Nothin. But she knelt down in front of me and started pullin at my fly, and… and I guess that kind of said it all. I—"
Dawn waved her hands again. "Stop it! Stop it! I'm going to be sick!"
"I knew I shouldn't have told you."
"Ohmigod! But this is so not her. Mom's just not into that. I mean, she's gone out like maybe twice in the last two years."
Careful… careful… need just the right tone here…
"Maybe that explains it."
Dawn looked at him like a kid who's just been told there is no Santa Claus. "She stripped down right in front of you? That's so totally not my mom."
He decided to risk going out on a limb to add the finishing touch.
"I was floored myself. Did you know she's got this cute little butterfly tattoo"—he touched his lower abdomen, just below his belt line—"right here."
Dawn pressed her hands against her eyes. "Stop! I've seen it! I've seen it! Damn her!"
He slipped his arms around her.
"Go easy on her, darlin. She seems like a real confused woman. Don't be too mad at her."
"Too mad? Oh, I'm not too mad at her, because mad doesn't even come close. I'm like totally pissed out of my mind!" She bit her upper lip as she blinked away tears. "My own mother. I can't believe this."
"I'm so sorry, Dawn."
And for an instant he meant it. She was hurt, crushed. So although he wanted to take a run up to Vecca's and find out where this detective was getting his info, he couldn't leave Dawn right now.
She'd just had the rug pulled out from under her life. But Jeremy was going to give her a new rug—a Persian carpet.