Christmas in Key West

“No, they wouldn’t,” Huey said, his good eye narrowed at Reese. “They’d get just the impression I want them to have.”

Huey appeared determined to make her efforts on his behalf impossibly difficult. She took the gun inside the house and came back to the porch. “Reese, I didn’t know about this.”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. He’s got the proper paperwork for that old thing, and everybody’s aware that he doesn’t have shells for it.”

“That you flatfoots know about, anyway,” Huey said. “Just because you sent Loretta over here to search doesn’t mean she found every bit of contraband.” When Abby started to protest, he waved off her concern and whispered, “Keep your cool, Abigail. If I even have bullets, I don’t remember where they are.”

Reese looked down at the sidewalk and shook his head. Abby couldn’t help sympathizing with his plight for just that moment. Huey didn’t make keeping the peace on Southard Street easy.

“You folks have a nice morning,” Reese said, heading back to his squad car. “You need anything, just call the station.”

“That’ll be the day,” Huey couldn’t resist replying.

STILL SHAKING FROM a tumult of emotions she’d hoped not to experience, Abby sat on the porch steps and dropped her head in her hands. “For heaven’s sake, Poppy, that whole thing with the shotgun was embarrassing.”

Huey leaned against a support pole and looked down at her. “Don’t be embarrassed by anything having to do with Reese Burkett. That man ruined your life.”

She sighed. “He didn’t ruin anything. My life is perfectly fine.” As long as I don’t allow my thoughts to go back more than twelve years.

“Well, he ruined mine, and I’d hate to think you were having any romantic notions about him.”

She turned her head to give her father a cold stare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He’s the wrong guy for you to be fantasizing about.”

“I am not fantasizing about Reese. For you to even suggest such a thing is insulting and demeaning.” Abby wasn’t sure how Huey’s suggestion was either one of those things. Nor was she completely honest when she said she didn’t fantasize about Reese. When a woman went to the lengths she had over the past years to avoid a man, it was a safe bet that she fantasized about him plenty. Just maybe not in a good way.

Huey pulled a wicker chair close to the edge of the porch and sat. “Ab, while we’re being so truthful…”

Were they?

“I’m still wondering why you’re here so much before Christmas. You’re not having trouble at work, are you?”

“No. Everything is fine at work. I left a few of my teen pregnancy cases in limbo, but the girls can call me or any of the other counselors anytime. They know that.”

Huey nodded, seeming to accept that explanation. “And why are you staying so long?”

She turned on the step to see him clearly. “You’re almost giving me the impression that you don’t want me here for a full month.”

He raised his hand. “Nope. That’s not it. If it was up to me, I’d have you move back here permanently. We have babies who need good families in the Keys, too. I’m just thinking that your mother might have called you with some cock-and-bull story about me having some problems with Reese.”

“Poppy…”

“I can handle Reese. I can take care of anybody who comes on this property.”

She thought of the shotgun. “A few minutes ago I saw how you treat trespassers.”

“You’re damn right, baby girl. This half acre is Vernay land. Always will be. Your mother had no business involving you.”

“She’s worried about you.”

“The hell she is.” He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “I’m glad you’re here, Abigail, but I’m starting to believe that you’ve bought into your mother’s hysteria about the way things are with me.”

Abby leaned toward him. “I’m not so sure it’s hysteria, Poppy. Your confrontation with Reese yesterday convinced me that there are problems. I’m here to help, and if that means both of us standing up to Reese, then I’m with you all the way.”

He frowned. “So now you’re ready to square off with Reese?”

“Yes, now.And if this is some veiled accusation about how I handled the past, I’ve warned you before not to bring it up.”

He shrugged. “Consider it forgotten. For now.”

Abby stood. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

She felt the press of familiar feelings of guilt as she went into the house. She knew the blame for what had happened thirteen years ago lay mostly on her shoulders. She was the one who had made the crucial decision.

REESE CALLED THE STATION and told the sergeant on duty that he’d be a few minutes late. The previous half hour with Abby had left him shaken. He’d gone over to see if he could make things right between the Vernays and himself. After all, Huey had been hurt on Reese’swatch, and he could just imagine how Abby viewed the incident. Fortunately, Huey’s injuries were minor, but they wouldn’t have happened at all if Reese hadn’t shown up and tried to force the guy into the patrol car. Cops often made tough decisions that they either had to rationalize or learn to live with later.

He headed north on Route 1 toward Burkett’s Paradise Marina. If anyone understood the pressures a cop lived under, it was Frank Burkett. Though he’d given up the job years ago, he still felt a strong kinship with the guys on the force.

Reese parked in the marina lot next to his father’s beefed-up Ford pickup, which was used for hauling boats. He got out of the patrol car and walked into the pristine blue-and-white metal building that combined a full-service mechanics area with a sales department that stocked every imaginable device for the avid boater, fisherman or recreational water enthusiast.

Ellen Burkett was behind the cash register, cashing out a customer who’d loaded up on pre-rigged trolling lines and plastic lures. Frank sat at the end of the counter, a cup of coffee steaming in front of him. “Hey, son,” he called out. “What’s going on in town? Rounding up any bad guys?”

Frank started every conversation with a question about Reese’s job as a cop. He never began by saying how many boats he’d rented out, or if the bill-fish were running. Reese knew why his father had quit the force. Ellen had wanted him to. She’d claimed the stress was getting to her and she was tired of worrying about him every time he put on his uniform and left the house. Deep down, Reese knew his mother had always hoped her husband would be more than a patrol cop. She’d got her wish. Now he was the owner of the biggest marina on the island. And he spent every morning sitting and drinking coffee.

Reese ambled up to the counter. “Haven’t run into any bad guys today,” he said, “unless you count Huey Vernay. I was just at his place.”

Ellen spared a glance in Reese’s direction before returning her attention to the customer.

Frank stirred his coffee. “How’s Huey doing? I heard on my scanner yesterday that the paramedics were called out to his house.”

Frank listened to his home scanner to keep up with what happened on the island. Reese frowned. No doubt about it. His dad had been a good cop, and a happier man when he was on the force. In fact, Reese had been disappointed in him when he’d given in to Ellen’s demands. Even as a kid, Reese had known that a man shouldn’t stop doing what he was put on earth to do, just to please somebody else.

Reese had ignored his mother’s pleas and become a cop himself. Public service ran in his and his dad’s veins. Reese, however, wouldn’t give up his place in the department for anything. Especially now that he’d earned the position of captain of the Patrol Operations Bureau. He hoped to be chief someday.

“Reese?” his dad said. “Is Huey okay?”

“Oh, yeah. He just took a tumble in his front yard and got a black eye.”

Frank shook his head. “Poor guy. It never gets any easier for him.”

Ellen finished her transaction and came up to them. “Don’t waste your sympathy on Huey Vernay,” she said. “Have you forgotten that he’s the one who told the police about Reese’s involvement with those immigrants?”

“No, we haven’t, Mom,” Reese said. “But let it go. It happened years ago.”

She sniffed. “I’m afraid I’m not so forgiving. Huey’s motives when he turned you in had more to do with getting even with the Burketts than doing his civic duty. Besides, he brings all his misfortune on himself.”

Frank conceded her point with a nod. “I suppose, but it’s still a shame. He’s likable enough if you peel away that crusty exterior.”

Ellen busied herself clearing away Frank’s coffee cup and wiping nonexistent stains from the counter. “Actually, we may not have to worry about Huey much longer,” she said.

Reese stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“I heard something at city hall the other day. If Huey doesn’t pay his back taxes, they’re going to auction off his house. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll move away.”

Reese stopped her by placing his hand over hers. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. He owes a small fortune.”

“And you just found out about this?”

“I had heard rumors,” she said. “But now it’s the year end. The county always does property appraisals about this time. Huey’s taxes have shot up like everybody else’s. And he still owes last year’s payment and some from the year before.”

Her husband stood. “Ellen, you didn’t tell me any of this.”

“Well, now you know, Frank. I say it’s good news. That old house of Huey’s is an eyesore, and the Community Improvement Board can’t get him to do anything. This is what he deserves. Besides, we should worry about ourselves. Our taxes are going up, as well. Yours, too, Reese. Wait till you get the bill.”

Reese rubbed his forehead. “Abby’s not going to be happy when she hears this.”

Ellen looked at him. “Abby? What’s she got to do with this? Is she here?”

“Yep. I just left her in the front yard, raking up stuff from last summer’s storms.”

His mother’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know Abby was coming to town.”

“Loretta called her to help out with Huey.”

Ellen crossed her arms. “She’s got quite a job there. I hope you don’t get mixed up with that bunch, Reese. The whole lot of them are trouble. Loretta taking up with Huey’s brother, Huey acting like a crazy man…How long is Abby staying?”

“I didn’t ask her. But if what you say is true, she’s got more worries with Huey than just his code violations.”

Leaving the marina, Reese wondered if Abby had heard about the taxes. She probably hadn’t, since Ellen knew everything on the island before anyone else found out, and he figured Huey wouldn’t have told her.

Reese pictured Abby’s reaction when she learned the news, and he decided to check his mother’s facts on his own. Then he’d take an even bigger step. He’d tell Abby himself. She already resented his interference in Huey’s life, but she had to believe she could trust him. He wasn’t that wild guy she’d known years ago. He was a cop now, not a crusader who ignored the law.

He sat in his truck a minute, looking over the water, hoping the panorama of a glass-smooth Gulf would calm him. Not today. Not when Abby’s troubles were on his mind. She’d stood right up to him this morning, staunchly denying that Huey had any problems.

He remembered that proud stubbornness from when she’d been in high school. She always kept herself apart from everyone.Apart and above.He’d never once heard ofAbigail Vernay breaking the rules or getting into trouble. She’d been a straight-A student and always seemed to possess a fierce determination to succeed despite not having a lot of support from home. When Abby was just a kid, Loretta had tried to be a good mother to her, stretching limited dollars every way she could. But Huey had always managed to screw up.

Reese recalled Loretta’s saying that Abby worked in social services in Atlanta. He figured she’d be tops at whatever she did.

He cranked up the engine on the patrol car and smiled. In his youth, he’d pulled a lot of stunts he wasn’t proud of. Some of them he would arrest himself for now. And a couple of them, including that one brief encounter with Abby, came back to haunt him sometimes. But he’d bet that Abby didn’t have much in her past to be ashamed of.

Chapter Four

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES AFTER Reese’s unexpected visit, Abby stacked the breakfast dishes in the drainer and tried, unsuccessfully, not to think about him. She’d heard of some significant events in Reese’s life over the years. Her mother had told her when he’d married, and then when he’d divorced, seven years ago. Abby didn’t know the details, just as she didn’t know if he was involved with anyone now. One thing she told herself. If Reese was in a serious relationship, she shouldn’t care.

She hung the dishrag over the sink and looked out the window. Why in heaven’s name was she wasting even a moment of thought on a man she’d sworn she’d gotten over completely? Unless she hadn’t.

If only she’d been smarter all those years ago! She wouldn’t be wasting brain cells on him now.

Grateful when her cell phone rang, she went to the kitchen table, where she’d left it. She recognized the caller’s name and pressed the connect button as her concern mounted. “Alicia?”

“Miss Vernay? I’m sorry to call you…” The teen’s thin voice trembled.

“Don’t be. I gave you my number so you could use it if you needed to. Is something wrong? Is everything okay with the baby?”

“Yes, the baby’s growing fine.”

“Then are you rethinking your decision about the adoption?”

“I have to. Things have changed.”

Abby sat in the closest chair and imagined the anguish on Alicia’s pale face, the sadness in her big brown eyes. “But when I left, you’d made up your mind. You were going to keep the baby.”

“That was when Cutter agreed to help me raise it.”

Abby pressed her fingertips against her forehead. She’d heard this story too many times. “What happened, Alicia? Did he back out?” She hoped not.Alicia’s boyfriend had been in trouble with the law a couple of times, but the prospect of becoming a dad seemed to be turning him around.

“No, ma’am.” Alicia hiccupped—the prelude to what Abby knew would end in sobs. “He got arrested last night. He st-stole a car.”

“Oh, no. That’s not his first offense.”

“It’s his third. He’s in jail right now. They aren’t going to let him out.” Alicia was crying. “I’ve got no choice, Miss Vernay. I’ve got to give up this baby. Otherwise my daddy’s going to throw me out.”

For just a moment, Abby considered that being thrown out of a ratty trailer sitting on cinder blocks on the outskirts of Atlanta might not be a bad thing. But she didn’t say that. The single-wide was the only home Alicia Brown had ever known. And other than the group homes Abby sometimes sent girls to—an option Alicia had already rejected—Abby didn’t have any other housing suggestions for her and her baby.

“Can you find me a family, Miss Vernay? A good family to take my baby?”

“You’re at four months now, right?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve got a little time. I want you to think about this very carefully. You need to use the best decision-making skills you have.” Abby realized the near futility of what she was suggesting. When a vulnerable sixteen-year-old girl found out she was pregnant, her world fell apart. Yet that was when she had to make the most crucial decisions.

“I’m just a phone call away, Alicia,” Abby said. “We can spend as much time as you want going over your options. I can try to locate a foster home for you. You can apply for work-study programs. I can guide you to some fine state-run child care facilities…”

“I’ve made up my mind. I don’t want to do this without Cutter. And I want a closed adoption.”

As many times as Abby had counseled young girls that giving up a baby was a personal and critical decision, as many times as she’d told them they had to make the decision based on their emotions, needs and expectations, she would never advise one of them to choose closed adoption. Even Abby, thirteen years ago, hadn’t picked that option.

She approached the issue carefully now. “You know what that means, Alicia? You won’t ever see your baby again. You won’t know where he’s gone. You’ll never know what he looks like or what he becomes.”

Alicia drew a trembling breath. “It’s the way I’ve got to do this, Miss Vernay. I have to say goodbye to this baby and be done with it. I just need you to find a family. And I need it to be somebody who’ll pay my doctor bills. With Cutter in jail…”

“Okay. That won’t be a problem. I have more than forty families on my list at the moment.”

“You think I’m being selfish, don’t you?”

The desperation in the girl’s voice almost brought Abby to tears. “No, honey, I don’t. What you’re doing is one of the most unselfish acts a mother can do for her child. I just want you to be sure.” She waited until Alicia’s sobs subsided. “I’ll have one of the other counselors in the office begin the match for your child and the perfect parents today.”

“Thanks.”

“But there’s time. If you change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

“Are you still going to school?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, good.”

“Nobody can tell yet.”

“Don’t lose this number. You call anytime, day or night.”

Alicia disconnected and Abby slid her phone into her pocket. She walked through the house to the front door. Huey had gone upstairs to rest. She should have appreciated the solitude, but the quiet only gave her more opportunity to think about the Alicias in the world.

Abby was getting better about accepting these stories as facts of life.And she was definitely grateful that she had the knowledge to help so many troubled teens through one of the most difficult times of their lives. she was relieved when she watched a birth mother come to terms with her future and take her baby home. She was equally happy when a birth mother agreed to a fair open-adoption plan with eager adoptive parents. Happy endings existed, andAbby considered herself lucky to be able to participate in them.

She hadn’t felt so lucky thirteen years ago. And she hadn’t experienced a happy ending.

Had she been in Atlanta, Abby would have started to work immediately on Alicia’s plan. In Key West, her home for years, she didn’t know what to do, so she walked outside and looked for a diversion, something to take her mind off the place where it so often returned.

In a few minutes a 1965, canary-yellow Mustang convertible pulled in front ofVernay House.Abby ran down the steps to the car and popped open the passenger door. “Mom!”

Loretta jumped out and enclosed her in a fierce hug. Wrapped as tightly as a twisted ficus tree, the two women swayed together, giggling and sniffling and carrying on as if they hadn’t spoken to each other in years, when in reality they’d talked twice last night. Through Abby, Loretta had gotten Reese’s interpretation of Huey’s injuries, and had in fact supported his theory.

Finally, she stepped back to get a mother’s-eye view of her baby. “You look wonderful, sweetie…considering.”

“Right. Sure I do.”

Phil Vernay came around the front of the car and gave her a peck on the cheek. “How you doin’, cupcake?”

She squeezed his hand. Phil was a good man. While she was growing up, he’d been a supportive and loving uncle. It had taken a few years, but Abby had slowly accepted Phil in Loretta’s life, and now she appreciated how happy he made her mother. She couldn’t resent Loretta’s decision to leave Huey. Happiness was hard to find, and Loretta and Phil had made a life together. Unfortunately, Huey had never let the past go.

“I’m doing okay, Uncle Phil,” she said. “How’s everything over at the Pirate Shack?”

“Same as always,” he said. “Thank the Lord.”

Loretta jutted her thumb toward the house. “Has the bear wakened yet?”

“Oh, yeah. We’ve already had a close encounter of the Reese kind this morning.”

Loretta grabbed Abby’s arms and looked deep into her eyes. “Oh, honey, running into Reese can’t be easy for you.”

“It’s not so bad,” she said. “In fact, it was probably good that he showed up at the hospital last night. At least this morning I’d already gotten over the initial shock of seeing him. I didn’t fall apart, and a few minutes ago Poppy didn’t shoot him.”

Loretta pointed to the porch. “Speak of the devil.”

“For Pete’s sake,” Huey hollered. “Can this day get any worse?” He stomped down the steps and stood with his fists on his hips. “Doesn’t the good brother have some kegs to tap and fritters to fry?”

Abby winced. She knew Uncle Phil was here to please her mother. This reaction from Poppy would only antagonize Phil.

“Nice shiner, Huey,” Loretta said.

Phil, a younger, softer, beardless version of his brother, leaned on the hood of the car he cherished, and glared. “It’s not ten o’clock yet, Huey. Even the worst of the worst on this island don’t start drinking this early.”

“Then get off my land and go irritate somebody else until it’s time to fire up that week-old grease.”

Phil shook his head, walked around the front of the car and got in. “Come on, Loretta. We’re leaving.” He smiled at Abby sympathetically. “Sorry, cupcake. I’ll see you later—someplace where the air’s a little easier to breathe.”

Loretta tugged Abby toward the car. Before getting in, Loretta whispered, “So what did you think of Reese? How did he look to you after all this time?”

“Don’t ask, Mom. I’m just glad I’m not stupid and eighteen again.”

Loretta glanced up at Huey, who was tapping his foot impatiently. “Oh, sweetheart, even when we grow up, we can still be stupid.”

AN HOUR BEFORE SUNDOWN, the migration toward Mallory Square began. Cars, bicycles, motor scooters and pedestrians headed along the narrow streets of Old Town toward the harbor to enjoy the decades-old celebration of sunset in Key West. And Huey roused himself from the ancient wicker rocker on the veranda and went inside to get his keys.

“I’m going with you,” Abby said, grabbing a ball cap from the hook by the front door.

“You don’t have to. I feel fine, and I’ll only be two or three hours, depending on the crowd. I’ll call when I’m through, and you can meet me at the Bilge Bucket for supper. My treat.”

“The Bilge Bucket idea is fine, but I’m still going with you. I just brought you home from the hospital last night.”

“I don’t need any help. I’ve been selling the same crap for years. Having you alongside me won’t change the profits any.”

Abby wanted to argue that point. Considering Huey’s usual personality, she thought a friendly smile at his vendor’s cart might increase revenues. He soon had to pay the fines for starting the fires, and she suspected he didn’t have the money for it. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” she said, holding the front door open. “After you.”

To save time, they took Whitehead Street instead of tourist-packed Duval, and pulled into a small private lot next to the old Customs House, where Huey had enjoyed free parking for years. Thank goodness the Vernay name still drew some perks. There were probably days when Huey’s entire profit from sales would barely cover the fee at the public lot.

They walked the short block to the local theater building and located his mobile cart. With its large pair of wooden wheels and center post for stability, the sturdily built conveyance resembled a gypsy’s wagon. Years earlier, Huey had skillfully painted the sides with bright, tropical colors meant to look like waves crashing along the shore. Now the designs were barely recognizable and the paint had faded to muted blues, yellows and pinks. The sign in the center of the whimsical peaked roof was still legible, however: Tropical Delights of the Conch Republic.

Huey released the padlock securing the cart to a fence post and hung the chain on a hook at the back of the cart. Then he lifted the twin posts on the front, one in each hand, and, rickshaw-style, strutted briskly toward the square, with Abby keeping pace. His inventory, secured behind locked side panels, rattled and clanked as he moved.