frustration.
After a few moments the hopelessness of his situation passed, leaving him with an empty, helpless feeling. He sat within the silence of his vehicle, watching the sun go down on Dallas, and for the first time wished he’d never met Cat Dupree. A dark gray sedan pulled into the parking space beside him, interrupting his thoughts. He took one look as what appeared to be a happy family of five got out and headed toward the restaurant, then he leaned forward, started the engine and drove away.
LaQueen had locked up and was already gone when he stopped by the office, although the lingering scent of her jasmine perfume was a faint reminder of her presence.
He picked up his messages, taking note that, for once, there were no failures to appear to deal with. He sat down at his desk and started returning the calls, leaving some messages of his own, then left some paperwork on LaQueen’s desk to be filed in the morning. He was getting ready to go home when his gaze settled on a picture hanging on the wall. He stared at it until the edges blurred and his eyes burned with unshed tears.
Home.
It had been a long time since he’d thought of his childhood home that way. For him, home was his apartment in Dallas and the place in that picture was where he’d grown up. But it was his unreturned feelings for Cat that reminded him of how shallow his life was here. He’d been at this job, in this city, for the better part of his adult life, yet if he left tomorrow, there would be fewer than a handful of people who would even note his absence. For whatever reasons, he’d neglected his personal life, choosing to chase bail jumpers and the almighty dollar. It was more than humiliating to accept that he’d found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with who wasn’t even willing to spend an entire night with him.
Cat was still on his mind as he reached across the desk, picked up the phone and punched in a series of numbers. When he heard the first ring, he began a mental countdown of the number of steps it would take someone to get to the phone sitting on the old sideboard in the hall. His answer came on the fourth ring, and unconsciously, his tension eased as he heard her voice.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom, it’s me, Wilson.”
The lilt in her voice was proof of Dorothy McKay’s delight in hearing from her oldest son.
“Wilson! How good to hear your voice, son. What’s up?”
Wilson smiled to himself. It was typical that she would get straight to the point.
“Not much…just the same old thing. How are things there?”
“Oh, you know…your dad’s arthritis is an ongoing complaint, and your brothers and sisters keep me busy chasing grandbabies.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. Did Charlie’s boy, Lee, make the basketball team?”
Dorothy laughed. “Oh sure…you know Lee. He’s more like you than his own father. When he sets his mind to something, he doesn’t stop until he’s done it.”
Wilson sighed, trying not to think of how he’d missed the boat in this thing called life.
Alice heard the sigh and, like the mother she was, knew there was more behind the phone call than just “checking in.”
“Wilson.”
“Yeah?”
“What’s wrong?”
He flinched. As long as he could remember, she’d always known when something was wrong before she ever heard the words.
“Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I just called to say hi. Oh…heck, I’m still at the office and my other phone is ringing. I’d better go. Tell Dad I called, okay?”
“Yes, I’ll tell him,” she said, then added, “I love you, darling.” Wilson closed his eyes. “I love you, too, Mom. Take care.”
He hung up, ignoring the fact that he’d lied to her about another call, then locked up and headed for home.
It was dark by the time he reached the parking lot of his apartment building. The temperature had dropped to freezing, and the
After a few moments the hopelessness of his situation passed, leaving him with an empty, helpless feeling. He sat within the silence of his vehicle, watching the sun go down on Dallas, and for the first time wished he’d never met Cat Dupree. A dark gray sedan pulled into the parking space beside him, interrupting his thoughts. He took one look as what appeared to be a happy family of five got out and headed toward the restaurant, then he leaned forward, started the engine and drove away.
LaQueen had locked up and was already gone when he stopped by the office, although the lingering scent of her jasmine perfume was a faint reminder of her presence.
He picked up his messages, taking note that, for once, there were no failures to appear to deal with. He sat down at his desk and started returning the calls, leaving some messages of his own, then left some paperwork on LaQueen’s desk to be filed in the morning. He was getting ready to go home when his gaze settled on a picture hanging on the wall. He stared at it until the edges blurred and his eyes burned with unshed tears.
Home.
It had been a long time since he’d thought of his childhood home that way. For him, home was his apartment in Dallas and the place in that picture was where he’d grown up. But it was his unreturned feelings for Cat that reminded him of how shallow his life was here. He’d been at this job, in this city, for the better part of his adult life, yet if he left tomorrow, there would be fewer than a handful of people who would even note his absence. For whatever reasons, he’d neglected his personal life, choosing to chase bail jumpers and the almighty dollar. It was more than humiliating to accept that he’d found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with who wasn’t even willing to spend an entire night with him.
Cat was still on his mind as he reached across the desk, picked up the phone and punched in a series of numbers. When he heard the first ring, he began a mental countdown of the number of steps it would take someone to get to the phone sitting on the old sideboard in the hall. His answer came on the fourth ring, and unconsciously, his tension eased as he heard her voice.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom, it’s me, Wilson.”
The lilt in her voice was proof of Dorothy McKay’s delight in hearing from her oldest son.
“Wilson! How good to hear your voice, son. What’s up?”
Wilson smiled to himself. It was typical that she would get straight to the point.
“Not much…just the same old thing. How are things there?”
“Oh, you know…your dad’s arthritis is an ongoing complaint, and your brothers and sisters keep me busy chasing grandbabies.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. Did Charlie’s boy, Lee, make the basketball team?”
Dorothy laughed. “Oh sure…you know Lee. He’s more like you than his own father. When he sets his mind to something, he doesn’t stop until he’s done it.”
Wilson sighed, trying not to think of how he’d missed the boat in this thing called life.
Alice heard the sigh and, like the mother she was, knew there was more behind the phone call than just “checking in.”
“Wilson.”
“Yeah?”
“What’s wrong?”
He flinched. As long as he could remember, she’d always known when something was wrong before she ever heard the words.
“Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I just called to say hi. Oh…heck, I’m still at the office and my other phone is ringing. I’d better go. Tell Dad I called, okay?”
“Yes, I’ll tell him,” she said, then added, “I love you, darling.” Wilson closed his eyes. “I love you, too, Mom. Take care.”
He hung up, ignoring the fact that he’d lied to her about another call, then locked up and headed for home.
It was dark by the time he reached the parking lot of his apartment building. The temperature had dropped to freezing, and the
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