Crazy for You Read online

  “Saran Wrap,” Darla said.

  “Or a really sexy nightgown,” Quinn said. “Or black lace underwear—”

  “I have a transparent plastic raincoat,” Darla said, her voice calm again. “Max’s mother gave it to me because it would go with everything.”

  “That could be good,” Quinn said.

  “The boys come home late on Friday,” Darla said. “Max’ll be home alone tonight at five-thirty.”

  “Tonight?” Quinn was a little taken aback with how fast Darla was moving—things must really be bad—but she nodded anyway. “Good idea.”

  “I like this,” Darla said. “Great sex in the living room in broad daylight.”

  “I’m jealous,” Quinn said, partly for encouragement and partly in truth.

  “This is a plan.” Darla nodded, back to her old positive self. “And it’s just a little plan, it won’t change anything important, just make things the way they used to be.” She beamed at Quinn. “This is a very smart idea. Thank you.”

  Quinn looked down at Katie uneasily. “Don’t mention it.”

  Darla put the car in gear. “Let’s go get you an apartment fast. I have to be home by five.”

  “Look, don’t get yourself too invested in this,” Quinn said. “A little change, fine, but be practical. Don’t expect miracles or revolutions.”

  “Like you and Nick?” Darla said.

  Quinn closed her eyes and thought about Nick. All that zing. “Okay, you’re right. We deserve miracles and revolutions. We’ll both go for it.”

  “Damn right,” Darla said. “This is going to be great.”

  “Damn right,” Quinn said, and thought, Oh, boy.

  Five

  Meggy had found one apartment in Tibbett—“None of the others allowed pets, dear”—and that one was not attractive. “You can’t live here,” Darla had whispered, staring in horror at the water-stained walls, and Quinn was saying, “I can if it means I keep my dog,” when the landlord bent to pat Katie.

  A minute later they were out on the street, braced against the gusts of March wind. “I said housebroken only,” the man said before he slammed the door on them.

  “She is housebroken,” Quinn said, thinking evil thoughts about the landlord, who clearly did not understand dogs, but Darla looked approvingly at Katie for the first time.

  “She knew that was a lousy place to live,” she said. “Good dog.”

  “Well, how’s this for an alternative?” Quinn said, glaring at both of them. “Now I have to live with my parents.”

  “There must be something else,” Darla said. “If you’re sure you’re not going back to Bill.”

  “I don’t like him,” Quinn said. “Okay? Can we get that clear? He stole my dog. He’s out.”

  “Right.” Darla nodded. “Okay, forget him, I’ll never mention him again. How about buying? If you can swing a down payment, mortgage payments could be cheaper than renting.”

  “Buy a house?” Quinn thought of the Tara-like subdivisions that ringed Tibbett. Buying a house was serious stuff. “What would I do with a whole house?”

  “Not all houses are huge,” Darla said patiently. “Find a little two-bedroom deal. Your mother works for a realtor, for heaven’s sake. Let’s go ask.”

  “Buy a house.” Quinn got into the passenger seat again and let Katie scramble her way into the backseat as she thought about it. A house. Her own house. Independence. Maturity. Privacy. The same flare of excitement that had caught her when she decided to keep Katie and kiss Nick came back. “You know, I could do that. Buy a house. Just me.” Her own house. With a fenced-in backyard for Katie. And a couch in the living room for Nick. “I could do that. Maybe. I like it.”

  “Why do you have that look in your eye?” Darla said. “We’re talking about real estate, not sex.”

  “They’re both exciting,” Quinn told her. “I’ll talk to Mom tonight and see what I can afford, and we can go look tomorrow. Are you busy tomorrow?”

  “Only in the morning at the shop.” Darla smiled. “And tonight. I’m going to be very busy tonight.”

  When Max came home at five-thirty that night, Darla met him at the door, naked under her transparent raincoat.

  “Hey, babe,” he said and kissed her cheek as he pushed past her into their sunken living room. “We’ve only got—”

  “Hey, yourself,” she said. “Jeez, you really aren’t seeing me anymore.”

  He turned around as she opened the coat. “What—”

  “I have plans for you.” She dropped the coat just as the door opened behind her.

  “I brought—” she heard Nick say, and she went cold all over, not hard to do since she was naked and there was a considerable March breeze hitting her backside. Bending over to pick up the coat was not an option, and it was transparent anyway. Before she could think of anything else, she heard Nick say, “Or not,” and the door closed again.

  “What are you doing?” Max looked amazed and horrified, and neither was the emotion she’d been going for. “The boys will be in here in a minute.”

  “I—” She was stuck. “The hell with it.” She walked past him, too embarrassed to pick up her coat. Too embarrassed to do anything really but walk into the bedroom and lock the door and sit on the bed with her arms wrapped around her and think about killing herself.

  “Darla,” Max said on the other side of the door.

  “Go away,” she said, and then she heard somebody knock on the front door, heard Max open it, heard her sons’ voices, one of whom said, “Why couldn’t we just walk in?”

  “Oh, God,” she said, and let herself fall backward. After ten minutes of self-flagellation, she put on her T-shirt and jeans and concentrated on figuring out who she was madder at, Max or Nick. The fact that neither of them had done anything wrong, that she was the one who’d been stupid, didn’t make it any easier to forgive them.

  An hour later, she was calm enough to go out to her kitchen to make hot dogs for the four of them camped around the TV where they watched the videotape of the last football game, rerunning the parts where Mark had made his touchdown.

  “The tape just came in this afternoon,” Max told her on one of his trips to get food. “Bill called from school. I didn’t have a chance to tell you—”

  “Not a problem,” Darla said, handing him a bowl of popcorn. “Take this out there, will you? Thank you.”

  Max retreated without another word.

  Nick came out half an hour later for a beer.

  “Sorry about that,” Darla said, wishing Max had been an only child.

  “About what?” Nick said. “You got any chips?”

  “Sure.” Darla reached up into the cupboard, glad to turn her back to hide her burning face. She handed the bag to him across the kitchen island and said, “Thanks.”

  “For what?” Nick said.

  Darla took a deep breath. “For pretending nothing happened so I don’t feel bad. It doesn’t work, but I appreciate it.”

  “Well, in that case, it was my pleasure,” Nick said. “You have a nice ass.”

  “Hey,” Darla said, her face flaming hotter, but she grinned in spite of herself.

  “Not that I’ll ever see it again,” Nick said and wandered back out to the living room.

  Okay, she’d forgive Nick. But Max—

  Once they were all fed, she fixed herself a plate and locked herself in the bedroom again.

  Few things she’d tried in her life had ever gone so wrong. And Max hadn’t helped. He’d just looked horrified that she was naked. Even for a second he could have looked happy—

  Of course knowing Nick was right behind him might have had something to do with that, but it was still a great gesture, damn it. Naked right there in the living room, too. She thought wistfully of how exciting that could have been, naked in the living room in broad daylight. They could have—

  She saw Max’s face again, appalled.

  Rats. She bit into her hot dog and thought evil thoughts about Max as she