Breaking the Rules Read online

  He lifted his right knee and controlled the steering wheel, giving him the freedom to crack several of his knuckles. He’d known Denise since she was a kid, and a good portion of the time, she was bearable. But when she took it upon herself to try and run the lives of people around her, it irritated the crap out of him.

  “You’re not anyone else. Stay away from her, St. John. I mean it.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  By now she was facing him, her cheeks a radiant shade of red. “I’m not fooling around.”

  “Calm down, Denise. I’m not going to bang Justin Baldos’ wife; I do have rules against things like that.”

  “Great, so drop it.”

  He refused to let it go. “I still don’t see why I can’t know something about her. For instance, how about this: what does she do for work? You can’t say that isn’t an innocent question.”

  “She’s a stay-at-home mom and runs a cooking blog on the side. I’ll let you have one more question, and then the conversation is over.”

  “What’s the blog’s name?”

  “The Grateful Earth. There. Done.”

  “Oh, no, that was part two of my first question. My second question is why does she want to divorce Baldos?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m deadly serious.”

  The corners of Dee’s naturally downturned mouth dropped even further. “Too bad. I’m not gossiping about my friend.”

  The laughter he released caused her to give him a startled look. “You’re a hoot. You and Chambers’ wife, Leeann—the two of you need gossip like fish need water.”

  “Not true.” Dee faced the windshield, her arms folded.

  He let her fume in silence. In time she’d tell him what he wanted to know; she’d explode if she kept things to herself.

  “There isn’t much I can tell you,” she eventually said. “This morning was the first time I’ve heard about a divorce.”

  “I thought the two of you were friends?”

  “We are. What’s your point?”

  “Well, something this big doesn’t just happen overnight. Wouldn’t she have told you when she started thinking about it?”

  “I would have thought so, but today was the first time she’s brought it up.”

  He grinned and listened in silence. When Dee got started, she ran like a racehorse.

  “Shannon doesn’t share a lot of details about her life,” Dee continued. “I do know that. Whenever Peg and I are complaining…talking about our lives...Shannon listens but never joins in. I’ve known her two years, and this morning I learned more about her than I have in that whole time. Anyway, I think she’s being selfish. Justin bought her a big house. He pays the bills… So what if he’s seeing someone else? Marriage is sacred; she should honor her vows.”

  “But Justin doesn’t have to?”

  “What?”

  “You said she should honor her marriage vows, but what about Justin? He’s diddling a woman half his age and doesn’t even try to hide the fact. Shouldn’t he have to honor the marriage vows?”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “Really?” He was blown away by what he was hearing. “You’re saying because he’s a guy he gets a pass?”

  “In a way, yeah. God made woman in man’s image, not the other way around.”

  “That’s very Christian of you, Denise. Your friend is married to a jerk and needs help, and all you’re willing to offer is some bull the Church fed you.”

  “It’s not bull, and why is it okay for you to treat women like shit?”

  “First off, I don’t treat anyone like shit, and you know that, and second, how did this come back to me? We were talking about Shannon.”

  “Not anymore.” Dee huffed and turned to face the passenger window.

  “Good chat,” St. John said and focused on the road.

  What did he care about the witch? He wasn’t planning on screwing her, and with all the projects he had going on, he didn’t have the head space to devote to her.

  Then why wasn’t he trying to resist the thoughts of her setting up residence in his head?

  Chapter 7

  “When one holds her breath for too long, she forgets how to breathe.”

  Unknown

  Shannon poured melted chocolate into the depression she’d created and blended the dark velvet with the flour. She was on autopilot as she moved the spatula. Her mind was elsewhere, as it had been most of the evening. She’d tried to keep thoughts of St. John at bay, but her consciousness had other plans, and as soon as she kicked him from her head, he’d leak back in. Even reminding herself she had way too much to figure out didn’t help. As soon as she let down her guard, he was there behind her eyes in all his sexy glory, sometimes wearing nothing but his lopsided grin.

  “This is stupid,” she sighed and added a cup of walnuts to the batter. When this batch of brownies was done baking, she’d finally be finished in the kitchen. The full moon was in Sagittarius, and she wanted to cast a circle, but she still had to give Chad his bath and take her own shower. It would be well after midnight before her head hit the pillow.

  “Mama, may I lick the spoon?”

  “Sure thing,” she said. “Pull over a stool.”

  “I’m still hungry. Maybe I should lick the bowl too.”

  “Can’t honey. You can only have a little bit. The batter contains raw eggs, remember?”

  “Mama, I want you to bake with cooked eggs. Then I can lick all I want.”

  “Baking doesn’t work that way. Here.” She dipped a spoon in the batter and handed it to him with a dish towel. “Don’t give Jasper any, though.”

  “I know. Jasper can’t have choc-lit because his heart will stop.”

  “Good for you for remembering. I made some without nuts, so you can have a baked brownie with ice cream if you want.”

  “Yay.”

  Chad jumped off his stool and danced around the kitchen, the spoon held high in the air while he sang about having a brownie and ice cream.

  She never tired of his little songs.

  “Okay, the last pan is in the oven. Get the ice cream from the freezer, and we’ll have our dessert.”

  “Is Daddy having brownies with us?”

  “No, munchkin, Daddy has to work, but he’ll kiss you when he gets home, don’t you worry.” The lie slipped out easily. One of these days, he was going to catch her; then what would she do?

  He carried the ice cream to her and she prepared two bowls, topping his with rainbow sprinkles. “Want to eat outside on the deck? There’s a full moon.”

  “Yay, I love full moons.” A seriousness cast a shadow on his face, and he asked, “Mama, are you a good witch?”

  “Yes, sweetie, you know I am.” She covered the ice cream and walked to the freezer, stopped, and turned. “Wait, why are you asking me that?”

  “Stevie said you’re a bad witch and that you fly on a broom. Will you take me for a ride? I promise to hold on tight. Please?”

  “Chad, slow down. Do you mean Stevie Chambers?”

  “Ah-huh. Can I?”

  “When did Stevie say I was a bad witch?”

  “Today at recess. Can we go flying tonight?”

  She set the ice cream in the freezer. “Yeah, sure.” She realized her mistake when he danced and sang about going for a ride on her broom. “Chad, Mama meant… Oh… Let’s just eat our ice cream.” She carried the bowls out to the deck.

  “But Mama, you said yes.”

  “Sweetie, I wasn’t paying attention; I’m sorry. But this is silly. You know I don’t have a broom that flies.”

  “But I want to fly to the moon.”

  “Oh, Chad, even if I did have a broom that could fly, the moon is too far away.” She placed his bowl in front of him and scooted his chair close to the table. “Just say hello and eat your dessert.”

  “Hello,” he yelled and shoved his spoon into his ice cream.

  She was dying to ask more about what Leean
n’s son had said but didn’t want to make too big a deal about it. Involving Chad in the petty feud in which she found herself wouldn’t be fair. But she had to know one thing. “Did Stevie say where he heard that I’m a bad witch?”

  “Ah-huh.”

  She waited for him to swallow the spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

  “Honey, before you take another mouthful, tell Mama who told Stevie I’m a bad witch.”

  Chad dug in his bowl and lifted a heaping mound of brownie. “His Mama.”

  “His Mama told him I’m a bad witch?”

  “Ah-huh. I punched him.”

  “You what?” The story was going from bad to worse.

  “I’m sorry I hit Stevie.” He turned his ice cream-smudged face her way.

  “I know you are, but you can’t go around hitting people when they say something you don’t like. Use your words.”

  “I did use my words. I said, ‘You’re a liar, Stevie,’ and then I punched him.”

  Chad demonstrated how he’d hit Stevie, sending ice cream sailing through the air. Jasper, quick on his paws, dove for it.

  “Okay, but next time stick with the words, okay?” She wiped and kissed his cheeks. “Finish up. It’s time for your bath.”

  “Can I still go to Cannery Lake?”

  “Canobie Lake, and of course you can. Tomorrow, I want you to apologize to Stevie. Do you hear me?”

  He nodded and murmured, “I wish we could fly on your broom.”

  She licked at her spoon. “I do too.”

  “The next time I see that blond pipsqueak, I’m going to say something,” Shannon fumed into her phone as she folded clothes. She started sorting Chad’s socks.

  “No, you won’t,” Dee said on the other end of the call.

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Come on, Shan, you’re not one for confrontation.”

  “Maybe I’ll change. Anyway, I made your brownies.”

  “Thanks, and hey, I’m sorry about today; I acted like a bitch when you told Peg and me your news. It’s just that you’ve never mentioned having problems, and suddenly you’re divorcing or wanting to divorce Justin. Did you talk to him yet?”

  “Hang on.” Shannon carried the clothes basket into the adjoining bathroom and closed the door. “No, he’s not home.” She contemplated mentioning that he didn’t come home at night but held her tongue.

  “I still think if you talked to Father Hannity he could help.”

  “Please, just drop it.” She twisted a pair of socks into a firm ball.

  “If you don’t want to listen to God’s teaching, then listen to me, your friend. It’s not easy being a single mother. How will you afford rent and food, and what about Chad’s needs? School supplies and his clothes? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe you should consider Peg’s suggestion and find someone to help distract you.”

  “Like St. John?” She didn’t want to think about St. John…or his arms…hair…eyes…fingers. No, no, no. She threw the socks at the bathroom door.

  “Mama, what was that?” The sound of feet hitting the floor in the bedroom preceded a knock on the door. “Do you have a ball? Can I play too?”

  “Dee, hold on. Honey, it’s not a ball. Go and pick out what toys you want in your bath and let Mama finish talking to Aunt Dee.”

  The doorknob turned, and Chad’s face appeared. “I want to play.”

  “Mama isn’t playing; she’s folding clothes. Do what I asked, please. And no dilly-dallying.”

  The door closed, and a tune about dilly-dallying receded down the hallway.

  “I really have to go, Dee.”

  “Shan, don’t toy with the idea of sleeping with St. John.”

  “I’m not interested in him. I only said his name because you and Peg started this whole thing about an affair.”

  “That was all Peg. Anyway, if you see him again, be nice but don’t flirt. It only encourages him.”

  “What will happen then? I’ll succumb to his charms?” She sat on the edge of the tub, suddenly very tired. All she wanted to do was crawl under the covers and sleep, no thoughts of divorce or Justin…or St. John.

  “Every woman succumbs to his charms.”

  “Did you?” she asked.

  “He never tried them on me. I was the annoying little runt who followed him and my brother around. By the time I was old enough to realize St. John was hot, he was already divorced and had made a rule to stay away from Wexford women. That’s rule number two.”

  “What’s number one?”

  “Never date a married woman, if he could call what he does dating. Rule number three: no second nights.”

  “How many rules does the guy have?”

  “I’ve lost count. Hey, I have an idea, how about the three of us girls go out Saturday night? The guys are taking the kids to Water Country on Father’s Day, and Jeff said they want to do a sleepover at the lodge the night before. It’ll be fun. We’ve never gone out at night, just us. What do ya say?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think about it, okay? I gotta run. The twins are bugging Jeff. See you Friday.”

  Shannon left the bathroom and added the clothes on her bed to the basket. It might be fun to go out and kick up her heels. Maybe they’d run into St. John.

  No, no, no. No.

  She entered Chad’s bedroom. He was naked, sitting on his floor and playing with an assortment of dinosaurs.

  “Chad, what did I say about dilly-dallying?” She walked into his bathroom and opened the tub faucet.

  “I wasn’t. I want these for my tub.” Hard plastic legs, beaks, wings, and tails sprouted from between his arms. “Mama, can I sleep with you tonight?”

  “May you sleep with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, sweetie, you ask may I, not can I.”

  “Why?”

  “Um, it’s… Just do Mama a favor and say it. I’ll explain some other time.”

  “May I sleep with you?”

  “Yes, you may. But first, take your bath.”

  After the bath and once Chad’s teeth were brushed, they climbed onto the master bed. He reclined on her lap, his head rising and falling with the movements of her chest as she read to him. Sleep tugged at him, and with each passing page, when she asked him to read a few words, his voice would slur a little more. By the time the lost ducks had found their mother, his breathing was the steady rhythm of someone fast asleep.

  She eased out from under him, covered him with the comforter, and kissed his temple. So small, he barely made a bump in the king-sized mattress. What thoughts did he carry with him while he walked in his dream-state?

  How did he act?

  Was he fearless?

  She hoped so.

  At least one of them should be.

  Chapter 8

  “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.”

  Helen Keller

  Shannon’s robe slipped from her shoulders, and it pooled on the grass at her feet. She closed her eyes and inhaled the aromas surrounding her. Pungent cedar from the nearby conifers that formed the boundary of the backyard. And musk. A smiled formed on her lips. The fragrance reminded her of… Her eyelids flew open.

  “No, no, no, I will not allow him to dominate my thoughts. No.”

  With steely determination, she vanquished the grinning face of St. John from her mind, took a long breath, and began again, this time focusing on the breeze playfully tickling her naked form and less on the scents riding the swirling air. When she felt centered, she removed a box of matches from her altar and walked to the northern cardinal point of the circle’s perimeter. There she lit a green candle and said, “Spirits of earth, Guardians of the North, I call on you to bless this humble circle.”

  In the eastern side of the circle, she lit the yellow candle.

  “Spirits of the air, Guardians of the East, I call on you to bless this humble circle.”

  At the southern spot, the wick of a red candle glowed under the flame
of her match tip.

  “Spirits of fire, Guardians of the South, I call on you to bless this humble circle.”

  In the western corner she stood at the blue candle and said, “Spirits of water, Guardians of the West, I call on you to bless this humble circle.”

  She returned to the altar and took hold of her athame and held her arms out to the side. She envisioned white light flowing from the double-edged knife’s tip. Spinning carefully three times in a clockwise circle, she announced, “Goddess of the Moon, please join me and bless this humble circle you have so lovingly taught me to cast; keep me protected within its boundaries that no unwanted entities may enter; only those who mean me no harm are welcome into this space.”

  With her feet firmly planted in the cool grass, she imagined her toes absorbing the energy of the earth. Up her legs it flowed and into her belly. With her arms held toward the night, she drew down the moon’s glow and let it bathe her skin. In her mind’s eye, she saw brilliant rays of blue, green, and yellow light radiating from every pore. She was one with the Universe.

  “This circle is cast. So mote it be.”

  Satisfied with her magic, she spread a blanket, knelt, and lit one of two white candles in the center of her small altar.

  “Goddess, on this night of the full moon, I call on you from within this humble circle I have built. I ask that you join me so that I may learn from your wisdom.”

  She removed two silver cups and a bottle of bourbon from a cloth sack, and after she served her goddess, she poured herself two fingers’ worth of the amber liquid and raised her cup high.

  “On this night, when the moon is full, I yield to its power; I feel its pull. Crone of the moon, as your light begins to wane, so too will my uncertainty and fears as you reveal my true way. So mote it be.”

  The whiskey burned the inside of her throat, but unlike some, who shied away from the woodsy liquid fire, she enjoyed the way it made her body come alive.

  Etched into the wax of the unlit candle was the rune Uruz. She’d chosen that particular rune because it represented inner strength and wisdom: two things she would give her right arm to possess. It wasn’t lost on her the rune also opened a path to increased sexual intimacy. She could have used a different rune, but the power of Uruz couldn’t be denied; if it made her horny, so be it. Having to purchase a new vibrator and a bunch of batteries was a small price to pay for gaining the courage to stand up to Justin.