“I know,” Eliot said. “Saw him out of the corner of my eye.”
“We bought Mom an angel ornament,” his older son said, holding up a small white box.
“Good. Zip up your jackets. We’re leaving.”
“Can we still go to Dairy Queen?”
“Sure. Why not?”
He faced Ian, pointed a finger and narrowed his eyes. “Remember...do your job. That’s it. Or else.”
Or else what? he wanted to ask.
“One question,” Ian said instead.
“Yeah...”
“Did Maleah put you up to this?”
“Absolutely not. She doesn’t even know we’re here. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep it that way.”
Again with the “if you know what’s good for you” garbage. To avoid regular beatings, like those he’d been subjected to that first year at Lincoln, Ian had learned to endure a certain amount of bullying. But he saw no reason to tolerate Eliot’s intimidation now, even if his intentions were more or less good. He put himself in Eliot’s path, effectively blocking his exit. “Look. Eliot. I get it. If my sister was cavorting with a known felon, I’d wig out, too. But you need to know that I have no interest in Maleah.” Too much time had passed, time that changed them. Yes, he liked her even better now, maybe, grown up, feisty and independent, than he had all those years ago, but that didn’t mean things could ever be the same. “So save your threats for somebody who doesn’t have her best interests at heart, okay?”
The boys ran up and, grinning, flanked their father. “We’re ready for ice cream!” the little guy said.
Ian watched them walk away, hand in hand, Eliot nodding and smiling as the boys chattered all the way to the main entrance. Despite the older one’s surly comment earlier, it was clear father and sons really did have a good relationship.
And for the first time since meeting Eliot, Ian envied him.
Just then, Ian spotted Maleah an aisle away, giving directions to a visitor. When she looked up, he waved. He hadn’t intended it as an invitation, but when she started moving toward him, he thought, Two birds with one stone. Find out what, if anything, she wanted him to do, and—
“I see you had a visitor.”
It surprised him to learn that she’d watched all that and hadn’t intervened. “Yeah. A real fun reunion.”
Maleah didn’t respond, and Ian decided she hadn’t heard him as she turned to straighten a crystal angel on Finland’s tree.
“Maybe next time you guys have a Turner family get-together, you can set your brother straight. Make sure he knows you’re safe from the big bad ex-con.”
She took half a step back. “No need to shout, Ian. I’m standing right here.”
“Sorry.”
“So is that what Eliot told you? That he thought you were threatening me in some way?”
“No. He’s concerned I’m trying to pick up where I left off. Pretty much told me to do my job and keep my distance...or else.”
“Or else what?”
“That’s what I wanted to know. I didn’t ask him, of course, because his kids were with him.”
She lifted her chin. Crossed both arms over her chest. Took half a step forward.
“If you’re waiting for me to apologize on his behalf, don’t. Eliot has always been protective, and under the circumstances, you can hardly blame him. I was a mess, for months, thanks to you. And he was right there, helping pick up the pieces.”
A two-by-four to the head couldn’t have hurt worse.
“I get it. In fact, I admitted to him that I get it. Doesn’t mean I like being taken to task in front of a bunch of strangers.”
She shrugged again, as if to say That’s the price you pay for participating in an armed robbery.
If that’s what she truly felt, he couldn’t blame her. That hurt, and riled him, too.
Every time the prison mailman handed him a Return to Sender envelope, his heart shrank a bit more; when Turtle poked that last one through the chipped gray bars, Ian all but gave up. Lincoln’s chaplain, having heard that he wasn’t eating or sleeping much, made an unscheduled visit to cell block D, during which the old priest said something Ian had never forgotten: “Self-pity is the most destructive of human emotions. Get involved in activities that put you last, not first.” The advice had served him well...until he saw her on the bistro’s dance floor. Since then he’d flip-flopped from wondering if what they’d once had could be revived, and wanting to protect her from him. He reminded himself how important family had always been to her. If it came down to choices between their feelings and even the most casual business relationship with him, she’d choose them.
As she should, since—as she’d pointed out—they’d been there to pick up the pieces after he went away.
“Just so we’re on the same page,” she said, standing as tall as her five-foot frame would allow, “we both know that Eliot has nothing to worry about...right?”
“Right. And neither do you. Soon as this Kids First stuff ends, you’ll probably never see me again.”
“No need to back away entirely. Washburne needs all the capable volunteers it can get. I’m sure they can find ways you can continue helping out that don’t involve working with me.”
She must have realized that her curt words rattled him, because Maleah smiled. Not the big happy grin that once lit up her entire face, but Ian preferred it to the way she’d been looking at him since Eliot left.
“Have you had a chance to see the entire exhibit yet?”
“Not yet. Too busy fixing what these curious visitors mess up. My mom used to say ‘You look with your eyes, not your fingers.’ Guess they never heard that one.”
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