Overkill(102)

The domestic sight had wiped clean all the bad memories. The only sensation he’d experienced was one of eager anticipation. He wanted to make new memories in this house he loved, with the woman he loved.

Yes, he’d reached that conclusion. He loved Kathryn Cartwright Lennon and couldn’t foresee his future without her at the heart of it. The kiss they were now engaged in demonstrated just how much he desired that life with her and how soon he wanted it to start.

After they broke apart, he stretched out his legs toward the new coffee table, intending to place his feet on it. But a fruit basket was taking up almost every square inch of the surface. “Who sent that monstrosity, and what for?”

“Mr. Mackey Parks.”

“The general manager of GreenRidge?”

“He delivered it himself this morning.”

“You’re kidding.”

“During the restoration, he sent some of his contractors up here to help so the work could be accomplished in a timely manner. He asked me to tell you that he was sorry for all that you’d endured at the hands of Eban Clarke, and that you will no longer be pestered by delegates from his sales team. He said that you’ve more than earned your side of the mountain.”

“Decent of him.”

“And he’d love to treat you to eighteen holes whenever you want to play.”

“I’ll see.”

“It might be good for you to come down from the mountain every now and then,” she said. “Get acquainted with some local men, hang out, knock back a couple of beers, swap dirty jokes, belch, scratch your privates.”

“How do you know what men do when they hang out?”

“Don’t try to get me off track.” She ran her finger down his cheek. “You’ve been a hermit for a long time. Too long.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Bing. God help me.”

She didn’t let him tease her out of acknowledging the elephant in the room. She reached up and smoothed a strand of his hair back off his forehead. “You don’t have to live in seclusion anymore, Zach. It’s done. Over. Are you ready to talk about it?”

“To you, yes. Not to anyone else.”

“You have my sacred trust.”

He stared into the flickering fire. “After Doug signed off, it took a long three days. Rebecca wasn’t suffering, but he was. It was agonizing for him. He stayed in the room with her most of that time. I left him to himself.

“After she passed, he just seemed lost. That’s why I stayed for so long. He couldn’t hold a thought, couldn’t complete a task. I intervened. People still respond to a request from the Zach Bridger. I played the celebrity card to make things go as smoothly as possible.”

“He did you a terrible wrong, Zach. You went beyond forgiving him. How did you do that?”

He thought on it, then said, “If it had been my child? My only child?” He stared deeply into her eyes. “If it had been you? I think I might have killed anyone who tried to coerce me into letting you go.”

Her eyes filled. “You’re going to make me love you, aren’t you?”

“I’m working on it.”

They held each other’s gaze for the longest time. There was still a tremor in her voice when she said, “You never told him about Rebecca being pregnant, the lost child?”

“No. He and Mary were spared that.”

She nodded slowly, then, “What about Rebecca’s funeral?”

“Wasn’t typical of New Orleans. No jazz band. It was sedate, private, with only Dr. Gilbreath, me, a few of the facility’s staff, and a handful of Doug and Mary’s friends from their church.”

“Media?”

“None.”

“You shamed them into staying away.”

After Rebecca died, he’d gone outside the facility to address the crowd of reporters and photographers who’d been assembled for days on the lawn and in the street, awaiting word. He’d figured the longer he dodged them and refused to comment, the longer they would hound Doug and him, becoming increasingly persistent. In the hope of avoiding that, he’d met them head-on.

He’d waited mutely until the throng had stopped hurling questions at him and then he’d announced that Rebecca had died peacefully and that he wouldn’t answer any questions about it.

His remarks had been televised on national newscasts. So he’d been told. He hadn’t watched.

“It was a brilliant statement, Zach,” Kate said. “It struck just the right chord. The line about the gladiator was inspired.”

“Gladiator?”

“You said that communications technology and social media have changed the world in positive ways. But that they’ve also created a public arena in which anyone, not only celebrities, but anyone, could find themself defending their privacy, their integrity, even their life, for the amusement of a universal, bloodthirsty audience.”

“I didn’t say gladiator.”

“But that’s what you meant.”

“Whatever I said, it thinned out that crowd at the facility, and they stayed away from the funeral.”

“Because of the circumstances of his death, Upton Franklin’s funeral was also understated,” she said. “The AG attended. He told me that Sid Clarke sat alone and wept quietly throughout the service.”