Ch. 15: you take the good, you take the bad
"So…you never told me what you're doing here."
They sat in the Red Pony. Vic went home to change before taking Michael to lunch. Bypassing the bar, she took a seat at a small table, noting that Henry saw them, his dark eyes tracking their moves as they sat down.
Michael leaned back in his chair and sighed.
"Vic…"
"Hello. Vic, are you off?"
Henry.
Vic smiled at him.
"I am now. Henry, this is my brother Michael. This…is Henry Standing Bear."
Henry nodded to him.
"What can I get you?"
"Beer."
Michael nodded in agreement.
"Same."
"Something to eat."
Vic took a breath. It was lunchtime. She wasn't all that hungry.
"Um…a BLT. No mayo."
He nodded and his dark eyes shifted to Michael.
"Uh…you got burgers?"
"We do."
"I'll have one. Medium. With fries."
"Okay. I will get started on it."
Henry left and Michael watched him go.
"He native?"
"Cheyenne."
"Cool."
Henry brought their beers. When they were alone again, Vic leaned on the table and posed her question. Michael took a long swallow of his beer before he answered.
"Sure I did. I came to see you."
"Really?"
"That so hard to believe?"
Vic shrugged.
"You've never done it before."
"Yeah…well…you don't leave me much choice. You never come home anymore."
"Busy."
"Right. Vic, what's going on with you? You get shot and you don't call anyone."
"It was a leg wound. I'm fine."
"Still…mom was pretty pissed when dad told her."
Vic looked at her bottle.
"Mom is always pissed about something when it comes to me. Did she send you?"
He sighed.
"No one sent me. Not…not really. Dad was disappointed that you didn't want to come back with him."
"He tried to strong arm me."
"I heard. He'll never learn. So…how is life in Wyoming?"
Another shrug. Her brother studied her with a knowledge that most people didn't possess when it came to her.
"You can talk to me, Vic. I'm not going to report back to mom and dad. We…are worried about you."
"I'm okay."
"You don't seem okay."
"You've been here for an hour."
He drank more beer.
"C'mon, Vic. I know you too well for this. How are you doing? Really?"
Vic looked over his head and across the bar.
"It's been hard."
It was the first time she said it out loud and it felt like a release of sorts.
"Recovering?"
"Yes and no. The bullet wound healed up. My leg is fine. It's just…everything else."
His eyes were somber.
"Dad told us."
That was all he said. Vic bit her lip.
"Can I ask you something?"
Vic was peeling the label from her bottle.
"What?"
"Why do you stay here?"
She looked down at the dark brown bottle.
"I like it here."
"Really?"
His surprise seemed genuine.
"You hated it when you first moved."
Vic looked up.
"It grew on me."
He tapped one hand on the table.
"Is there…someone in your life?"
She was momentarily saved from the question by Henry bringing their food. He gestured at the half empty bottles.
"Another beer?"
Vic smiled up at him.
"Please."
He walked off and quickly brought two more beers before leaving them alone. Michael was already eating and he nodded in approval of the burger Henry brought him.
"Damn! This is good."
Vic huffed out a laugh and took a bite of her own food, still not hungry. At least, it gave her something to do. A distraction. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Michael spoke up again.
"So…you didn't answer my question."
Vic wiped off her hands.
"You're getting awfully personal."
"You are seeing someone."
"What makes you say that?"
"You didn't deny it."
"Michael…"
He held up his hands.
"Don't get mad, Vic. I would like to meet him, though."
She shook her head.
"Let's talk about this later."
He nodded slowly.
"Sure. How's work?"
"Alright."
"Dad, said something about the Irish mob out here. What's up with that?"
Vic huffed.
"It's a long story. Lots of shit goes on here that people don't realize."
"I've noticed."
Vic gestured at his half eaten lunch.
"Finish eating and stop interrogating me."
The onslaught of questions was dizzying. She still wasn't sure if he really was here of his own accord, or if this was an attempt by her parents to get information she wasn't ready to give them. They would both know she would be more willing to talk to Michael than anyone else.
"I'm not interrogating you. I genuinely want you to know what's going on with you. I told you…I'm not here to report back to mom and dad. Yes, they wanted me to come and see you. But…it's just because they're worried about you. They just…don't always know how to show it."
"That's putting it mildly."
He shifted gears.
"Do you hear anything from Sean?"
Vic made a face.
"We're divorced. We don't exactly talk."
"He's getting remarried."
She looked up.
"Really? How do you know?"
"News travels. Maybe not out here."
She shook her head.
"He still in Australia?"
"From what I hear. I never liked him very much."
Vic pushed her plate away and finished off her beer.
"We know, Michael. You never kept that a secret."
He grinned.
"I just…thought you could do better."
"Yeah, well…at the time, he seemed better."
She eyed his plate.
"You finished?"
"Yeah."
"Where you staying?"
"In town."
"Not at the casino?"
He shook his head.
"Nope."
Vic paid and they stood up. Walking outside, Michael looked around the parking lot of the bar.
"You free for dinner?"
Vic hesitated, Walt invading her mind.
"I…I'm not sure."
He cocked his head.
"Got a date?"
"God, Michael. Give it a rest. I just...I kind of had plans. But…I can change them."
"Or…you can include me."
Vic shook her head. Michael's version of pushing was different from their father's. Victor Moretti came on strong and was unapologetic about it. He considered himself the head of his family and he liked to have a certain measure of control.
It was the kind of control that Vic bucked against naturally. Michael knew that. In that way, they were allies.
"I'll let you know."
"So…what is there to do in this town other than betting away all my money?"
"Fishing."
He laughed.
"I don't fish."
"You could have fooled me."
xxx
She came in his private entrance, bypassing the main office. He wasn't expecting her for the rest of the afternoon. He looked up when the door opened and Vic came in. She had changed into nonwork jeans and a form fitting t-shirt.
"Hey."
Walt leaned back in his chair.
"Hey. What are you doing back? Where's your brother?"
"At his hotel."
Walt stood up and came around his desk.
"You didn't know he was coming?"
"No. Surprise. We went to lunch."
"Must have been nice."
She didn't necessarily look like she felt that way about it.
"He…wants to have dinner tonight."
"Okay."
"Is it? I know we were supposed to have dinner but…"
Walt cut her off.
"It's okay. Have dinner with your brother."
She stood there with clearly more on her mind than she was saying leaving him confused. It was a feeling he was more than acquainted with when it came to her.
"You don't want to?"
"I do. It's just…he knows I'm seeing someone."
"How?"
"He's good like that."
"Did you tell him?"
He asked the question slowly.
"No. I didn't even answer his question. But…he's not stupid. Um…why don't we all have dinner?"
Walt stood quietly, his eyes on her.
"All three of us."
It wasn't really a question.
"Yeah, we could…we could still go to Sheridan. God knows they've got better choices."
"Don't you think he'll find that odd?"
He wasn't entirely sure where she was going with her line of thinking.
"I want to tell him. About us."
She pushed the words out. Again, silence descended over him. Vic shifted on her feet, her nerves on clear display as she waited for a response of some kind.
"Do…your…parents know?"
"No. But…Michael won't tell them. Not if I ask him not to."
He didn't answer immediately, turning the idea over in his mind.
"Walt, Cady knows. And…Henry. But…they're…they're your…your family, your friend. You can talk to them about it. But, I…I don't have anyone to talk to about it."
It hadn't really occurred to him that she must feel isolated in all of this. He still had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. As much as they were together, it was an easy thought not to have in regards to where Vic stood.
She must have sensed some hesitation on his part.
"Michael's the easiest person in my family to deal with. He's not like my dad, Walt."
"You really want this?"
She stepped closer to him.
"Yes."
"Okay."
A smile broke across her face and some of the tension in him eased.
"Where are we going?"
"Still working on that. But…I will let you know."
She put one hand on his chest and tilted her head to the side. She looked irresistible to him when she did that. He brought his hand to her shoulder and guided her to him. Walt dipped his face and kissed her. Vic returned it before pulling away.
"Mmm…we're at work."
"Technically, you're off."
"Yeah…technically, someone could walk through the door and get a hell of a surprise."
She pushed on his chest, shoving him back playfully.
Walt looked at her, the smile slipping from his face.
"You get any sleep last night?"
Vic shrugged.
"Not really."
Something crossed her face and he just caught it as she looked away.
"You alright?"
Her eyes returned to him.
"Yep."
"You sure. You disappeared this morning."
"I was running radar. You know that's part of my job."
"Right."
He wasn't entirely buying what she seemed to be trying to sell him.
"You know…we didn't have a chance to talk, Vic."
"Yeah, and we're not going to now. Not here."
"Vic."
"Walt."
She wasn't giving in on this matter. This wasn't the place to push her. Not the way her moods seemed to shift. They wouldn't get the opportunity tonight with her brother in town. He would likely be taking up a good bit of her time.
"How long is your brother staying?"
She hedged.
"He hasn't said. Why?"
"Just curious."
Walt continued.
"Does he know?"
She looked at him for a long, thoughtful moment. He could tell by the expression on her face that she knew exactly what he was talking about. It was a major change from a few months ago when he knew very little about what was going on with her. Now, he seemed to be the one person who knew everything.
Almost.
He knew she was keeping things from him. Not to be deceptive. He knew it was out of self-preservation. There were emotions and thoughts she needed to work through herself before she could expect to share them with anyone, including him.
It didn't stop him from worrying about her immensely.
"Yes."
"Did you talk about it?"
"At lunch? No."
Her answer was as short as he expected it to be. After a moment, she expanded a little.
"That's not exactly the kind of thing I want to talk about with my brother."
"Maybe…your mom."
She bit her bottom lip and considered him.
"I already tried that."
"What did she say?"
Vic shrugged.
"Nothing helpful."
He resisted the urge to sigh the answer.
"Really? She's your mom."
"Yeah. You've never met my mother. So…your opinion is uninformed."
He started to say something, but Vic cut him off with a wave of her hand and sudden restlessness.
"Let it go. Okay? I don't want to do this here. We'll talk about it later."
Walt frowned.
"That's what you keep saying."
She gave him a sharp look.
"It's not my fault my brother showed up, Walt. We'll talk. We will. But…this isn't the place. You know that."
She started for the door.
"I'll call you and let you know where we're going."
He nodded.
"Okay."
She stopped at the door and lingered.
"I'll tell him before dinner."
"By yourself?"
"Yeah, it'll be fine."
She didn't wait for an answer. She raised her hand in a wave. Then, she was gone.
xxx
To say that she was apprehensive was an understatement.
Vic was taking a risk. She knew that. She trusted her brother. Probably more than anyone else in her family. Of her four brothers, Michael was the one who always seemed to understand her the best. When she went to IA back in Philadelphia, he was the most supportive of anyone in her family. That included her parents.
Maybe it was because the three older ones always left him behind when they were younger. As the baby, he was seen as someone who would slow them down. She faced the same fate being the only girl. They both had to force their way into the fraternity that Victor Jr, Tony, and Al created for themselves. In some ways, that created a different kind of bond between them.
Either way, starting with him made sense. He was the least likely to have a strong reaction to her news. He would be the polar opposite of the way that her father would react. His easy going nature made him easy to talk to. Where she was intense and restless, Michael was always content to exist in the moment and not push too hard. It didn't exactly make for an outstanding career, but that never mattered to him. In some ways, she felt like she was arriving at the same place herself. Her route was just different, longer than his.
Even so, she would be lying to say that she wasn't nervous. She was not just telling him something important about her life. She was asking him to keep it from the rest of their family for a while. Vic didn't have any timeline for telling her parents about Walt. When the rest of her brothers found out seemed irrelevant in her mind. Knowing them as she did, she knew exactly what to expect from each one of them. She doubted there would be any real surprise. It was her parents that she dreaded telling.
On the one hand, both of her parents had issues with control for different reasons. Her father thought that as the head of the family, his opinion should count for more. He was a strong personality who never shied away from giving his opinion. Vic knew exactly where she inherited that trait. His attempts at swaying his various children were measured and obvious. He showed up in Durant and stated his intentions outright. He frustrated her when he was like that, but at least she knew what was going on.
Her mother was so much subtler, nearly impossible to read at times. Lena Moretti presented the picture of a strong woman, a detective's wife who raised five children and was active in her immediate community. She was damn near unflappable, forged in the fires of raising four boys and a girl who was more of a force than any of them. Vic could count on one hand the number of times she witnessed her mother lose her composure. She was a stylish, well pulled together woman who exuded confidence and coolness.
The family resemblance was strong. Vic knew she looked insanely like her mother. The difference was more pronounced now that her hair was blond as opposed to the darker color she inherited from her mother. They possessed the same eyes, the same facial features, and the same streak of willfulness. But, where her mother wielded her own personality as a weapon that you never saw coming, Vic laid everything out for the world to see.
It always bothered Lena. She never seemed able to grasp why her daughter insisted on being so different. Where Lena tended to dole out her observation and opinions in measured fashion, Vic reacted first and thought it out later. The equation of difference between them produced a relationship that was never really at peace. There was always an underlying current of tension between the two of them.
At times, it bubbled over into real conflict.
Vic had a good idea how each of her parents would react. It would be different and it would force her to fight the battle on two fronts. The thought already exhausted her. She wasn't in any hurry to share the news with them. She hoped that Michael would be willing to accept her reticence and give her the time that she needed.
She asked him to meet her on the square. It was a nice day and she figured they could have this conversation away from others, affording her the privacy that she needed. That she and Walt needed.
Walt.
He seemed hesitant when she brought up telling Michael. She wasn't entirely sure why. There was no reason for him to worry about Michael's reaction. Maybe it was the idea that it would put them one step closer to full disclosure. They hadn't talked about it, but they both knew he would bear the brunt of her father's disapproval.
Vic found Michael standing under a tree and looked out across the small town. She remembered the first time she gave the town a first, good look and wondered if he was seeing it with similar eyes. He looked her way as she approached him, his hands in his pockets.
"It's hard to picture."
Vic eyed him.
"What?"
He jutted his chin at the neat row of buildings that made up the main street in Durant.
"You in this little town. It's hard to picture."
She let her gaze follow his, knowing what she saw was far different than what he saw.
He saw boredom. He saw a town with a laughable population and nothing to really do outside the casino. Store and restaurants tended to close early, sometimes not opening at all on Sunday. There wasn't a large department store where you could pick up everything, or a movie theater that could show twenty movies at once. There were no chain fast food places that were open twenty-four hours a day, no dozens of bars and nightclubs where you could basically party until the sun came up.
That was what Michael Moretti saw.
Vic saw Art, who ran the hardware store and never rushed because he was and old man who enjoyed talking to everyone who came into his store. He took the same slow pace whether you were looking to spend hundreds of dollars on building materials or just a couple of dollars to have a key made. She saw the Busy Bee where most of the normal crowd didn't bother with menus and where Dorothy served ridiculously good coffee and could correctly predict what you would order on any given day. She saw the old Carnegie library that now housed the Sheriff's Department creating an odd clash of cultures. She saw the small theater that mostly showed older movies for a fraction of the price.
She knew what he saw because that was how she viewed Durant when she rolled in. It felt like a lifetime had passed. It hadn't, of course. Her life had changed so much since she crossed the state line into Wyoming with a seething frustration that she was unable to shake.
She turned her eyes back to her brother.
"I've changed, Michael."
His eyes shifted to her, sitting for an unsettling moment before he spoke.
"I've noticed. I just can't put my finger on what exactly changed."
He smiled when he said it and she felt some of the worry in her release slightly.
"If you figure it out, let me know."
He laughed quietly before his expression turned more serious.
"What do you want to talk to me about?"
Vic gestured at a bench nearby.
"Let's sit."
He followed her over and they took a seat on the bench. Vic let her eyes roam around them. This time of day, there weren't many people out and about. That would change as the hour grew later and more people got off work. There were a handful of people walking, a few sitting under the shade of the trees. There wasn't anyone close to them, no one to overhear their conversation.
Michael settled in and looked her way.
"Is something wrong?"
Vic shook her head.
"No. I just…there's something I want to tell you. But…I need for you to promise me that you won't tell anyone."
"Vic…"
There was an uncertainty in him now. She could see his reluctance to promise her that when he didn't quite know what he was committing to.
"Michael, you have to trust me on this like I'm trusting you."
He looked at her for a long moment before he nodded slowly.
"Okay."
Vic swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry.
"What you said earlier, you were right. I am seeing someone."
Something in his face eased, this news clearly not as heavy as he was expecting.
"That's…that's great news, Vic. You deserve it. But why all the secrecy?"
She took a deep breath, prolonging the moment.
"It's…Walt."
The words hung between them like fog as several seconds ticked by. Michael was looking at her with an expression that was hard for her to read.
"Walt?"
"Yeah."
He ran one hand over the leg of his jeans.
"You're involved with your boss."
Vic looked away.
"Don't say it like that."
"Like what? It's just…a fact."
"He's retiring. He won't be my boss for much longer."
Michael's head bobbed slightly as he processed.
"How long has this been going on?"
"A few weeks."
"That's not very long."
"It's complicated. And…I'm not getting into all of that with you. But…it is serious. I'm not just…I'm not messing around here, Michael."
His chest expanded with a breath.
There was no way to explain to him in such a short period of time her history with Walt. Nor did she want to. That was far too personal to share with her brother.
"Can I ask you something, Vic?"
"What?"
"Was he the baby's father?"
"No."
She provided the answer quickly and sharply. He took the hint and let that topic alone.
"Did Walt have anything to do with your divorce?"
That was a harder question to answer. The easy answer was no. She knew now that she and Sean likely wouldn't have lasted. Their problems didn't begin and end with their arrival here, or Walt. There were issues before they left Philadelphia. A new environment seemed to make them more pronounced. Even so, she couldn't truthfully deny that her feelings for Walt hadn't played a part in her growing disinterest in repairing the damage to her marriage.
"Sean and I…didn't work."
"That's not a real answer to my question?"
"It's the best one you're gonna get."
He smiled slightly.
"Oh-kay. So…"
His expression shifted.
"…the age difference doesn't bother you?"
"No."
"Does it bother him?"
"I think it did at first. But…he's learning to deal with it."
She could see him holding back. Vic nudged him with her elbow.
"What?"
Michael rubbed his palms together.
"I want you to be happy, Vic. You definitely deserve it. This just seems so…I don't really know Walt. But, from what I do know, you're very different people. Do you really think this can work?"
It wasn't anything she hadn't asked herself at least a dozen times. She still didn't have an answer that really satisfied her.
"Honestly…I don't know anymore. I do know…that right now…in this moment…he makes me…he's…"
It was hard to put into her words.
"…he's good for me."
It sounded odd. She was well aware of that.
"I want you to have dinner with us…tonight."
"You and Walt."
"Yeah. So that you can get to know him."
He nodded.
"Sure, Vic. You know…dad…"
His words faded. Vic sighed.
"He hates Walt. I know that."
"That why you want me to keep this from him?"
"Partially. Also…we're still trying to figure this out. And…the less input we have from outside, the easier that will be. Dad…you know how he is. He'll flip out and he won't hear anything I try and tell him."
She could tell by his face that he knew what she was talking about.
"You know…dad isn't the only one who'll have an opinion about this."
"I know. But…I can't live my life by other people's standards. I was never good at it."
He halfway smiled.
"Understatement."
"Shut up."
"Is that why you stay here?"
"What? Walt?"
"No, what you just said?"
Vic gave it some thought before she answered.
"Yeah, I think it is."
He seemed to get it.
"So…where are we having dinner?"
"In Sheridan. More choices."
"More choices, less eyes?"
"Something like that."
Vic let her eyes shift back to the grassy square. A breeze blew in, ruffling loose strands of her hair and sending a slight chill through her. It passed quickly as the sun warmed her back up in no time. But, it felt like something.
A precursor of sorts.
xxx
He wasn't really nervous. From what Vic told him about her youngest brother, he wasn't anything like Victor Moretti. Or, even some of her other brothers. Walt got the same feeling during his brief meeting with Michael at the office.
That didn't mean that he was entirely at ease with all of this.
It was one thing with Cady and Henry knowing. He knew them both well enough to weather their opinions with minimal worry. He was aware they both had reservations about all of this. But, he had a history with them that quelled much of that. Henry was the least of his worries. Not that his opinion didn't matter, but Henry wasn't the judgmental type. His bigger concern was Cady. Though her early worries concerns were strong, she seemed to be warming up to Vic as they went along. If she was still unsure about this, she was keeping it to herself and they were all finding a way to work around it.
Michael Moretti, he was more unfamiliar with. While Vic assured him that this would not turn ugly, there was still some apprehension on his part. As well as he knew Vic, her father was the only member of her family that he'd met.
This also wasn't exactly the dinner he wanted to have with her. That was his own fault. His inability to truly commit to something and plan. He could arrange a stakeout with no problems. Why did something as simple as a date seem so hard for him?
It was a question that plagued him.
He didn't want her to think that he didn't want this. He did. There was just still some nagging worry about going public with her. Granted, going out in Sheridan was a far cry from doing it in Durant. No one was likely to notice them there. No one knew them and there was no reason to pay them any attention.
Here, there would be an intense amount of scrutiny. They both knew it. Rumors already circulated about them thanks to Chance Gilbert and his very public trial. Of course, were he being honest with him, there were already some rumors about them and the closeness they shared for most of their professional relationship.
Vic wasn't wrong about that.
Walt pushed the thoughts out of his mind and pulled into the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant he hadn't ever been to. Vic called him with the name of the place and asked him to meet her and Michael there at seven. So, here he was. He made it a point to leave work in time to trade his faded denim shirt for a slightly newer navy one that he didn't wear all that often. As a result, the material felt thicker than normal with not enough washings.
He shaved as well. There was no point in going to dinner looking like he was fresh off a week long trail ride. He needed a haircut. There unfortunately wasn't time and he also didn't want to appear to be trying too hard.
Vic's truck was already there and vacant. Walt slid from the Bronco and made his way inside. He was greeted by the small of peppers and beef when he stepped inside. Walt removed his hat and scanned the room. It only took him a minute to find the two of them already seated at a table. Walt twisted the brim of his hat as he crossed the floor.
Vic saw him and smiled as he approached.
"Hey."
He returned the smile before his eyes shifted to Michael.
"Hi."
"Sheriff."
Walt set his hat aside and took a seat with a shake of his head.
"Just…Walt."
"Okay, Walt."
The younger man looked at him in a manner that too closely resembled Vic before he turned his attention to his sister.
"You ever been here?"
She was looking down at her menu.
"Nope."
He nodded and looked at his own menu, flipping the single page to see what the other side offered. A waitress appeared to take their drink order before bustling off. Vic turned her head slightly in Walt's direction.
"What are you thinking?"
"Fajita."
She nodded slightly, still distracted. Walt took the two seconds to look at her without her paying him any attention. She had also changed into a button down shirt. It looked familiar to him, but he couldn't place when or where he saw her wear it. Her long hair was braided down her back with only a few loose wisps hanging around her ears. She absently pushed at one. She didn't braid her hair all that much anymore. For a moment, he wondered why. Ease maybe. The ponytail she normally wore for work was probably quicker. She would sometimes, pull it all up into a bun of sorts. Having her hair pulled back from her face accentuated her strong jaw line and seemed to increase the resemblance to her brother.
She raised her head and his eyes snapped away to find Michael watching him from across the table. When their eyes met, he couldn't quite decipher was Michael was thinking. The waitress reappeared with three beers and saved him from any further looks.
She set the bottles in front of them and took their food order with Vic opting for a taco salad and Michael ordering the same plate that he did. Once they were alone again, the air felt heavy with some kind of expectations. Walt took a long swallow from his bottle.
Vic broke through it.
"How's work?"
Her question was directed at her brother. He smiled and looked her way.
"You know Philly. Always something going on. Dad said you were having mob problems out here. That true?"
"Yeah, we were. They were using the casino out here to make money."
"Were?"
"Yep."
Michael leaned back in his chair.
"Damn, Vic. Bet you thought it would be dull out here."
She smiled a little.
"Sometimes, it is."
"How many in your department?"
"Four."
"Wow. That's like…crazy."
"it's a challenge."
"Walt, Vic tells me your retiring."
"Yep. Turned in the paperwork already. It's official."
Michael nodded and looked between them.
"Any idea who'll be taking your place?"
Walt shook his head.
"Whoever runs and gets elected."
"Vic?"
She lifted her beer bottle and shook her head.
"No."
"Why? You're qualified I would imagine."
"She is. Very qualified."
Michael kept his attention on Vic who merely shrugged.
"Small town politics are bullshit."
Michael laughed.
"Typical."
Their food arrived and provided an ease in the conversation. The talk turned intermittent and light. Michael still obviously had questions, though.
"What are you planning to do when you retire?"
Walt looked up from his meal.
"Um…I'm still ironing that out. I'll probably work on my cabin."
"You have a cabin?"
"Yep. Live in one."
"You a mountain man?"
"Michael."
There was a warning in her tone, but her brother ignored her.
"No. Just like my privacy. Being Sheriff in a town this size has its downfalls. I bought some land. Built a cabin."
"You built it yourself."
"Mostly."
"Wow."
Michael rested his arms on the table and studied Walt.
"You know…my dad doesn't like you."
Walt had already decided that brutal honesty must be a family trait that all the Morettis shared.
"God, Michael."
Vic let him know how she felt about the statement, but he just gave her a smile.
"He made that clear."
Michael grinned at him.
"I bet he did. So…Vic, when do you plan to tell him about this?"
Walt looked her way and saw her jaw tighten.
"I haven't decided. Can I trust you to keep your mouth shut?"
He laughed before he affirmed what he already told her.
"You can trust me."
Vic gave him a satisfied nod.
"Good. I would hate to have to come and kick your ass."
Michael picked up his bottle and raised to his mouth.
"Well, at least you would come home then."
xxx
"That wasn't so bad."
Walt stood between the Bronco and Vic's truck with one hand propped up on the hood of the Bronco. She looked up at him with curiosity and a bit of humor.
"Did you think it would be?"
He shrugged.
"I don't have a great track record with the men in your family."
"That was just…one man. Don't let him scare you."
"He doesn't."
Vic smiled.
"I think he might."
Walt huffed out a barely there laugh and looked out across the street.
"You wanna come to the cabin?"
The thought of Travis and his most recent visit flashed through her mind. She couldn't really tell if he noticed it or not. He seemed slightly distracted.
"Um…sure."
He noticed her hesitation. She knew that. He looked like he might say something, but she spoke up, not giving him the chance.
"Yes."
She did want to go to the cabin. She didn't want to go home. It seemed like an invitation for another confrontation and she didn't have that in her right now.
Not after last time.
She hadn't told Walt about Travis' latest visit, or his declaration to her. She didn't want to think about it. She certainly didn't want to get into with Walt. He already bristled at the idea of Travis continuing to hang around the trailer park. This would be a step too far in his mind.
"Do you need to go by your place first?"
"No."
She answered quickly. Too much so. She smiled.
"I have everything in my truck. So, I'll meet you there."
She tried to sound upbeat. That was probably her mistake. Walt tilted his head.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
She pulled out her keys and stepped back from him.
"I'll see you in a few minutes. I am…I'm gonna stop by the store and grab a few things."
Walt accepted that and got into his Bronco, driving off with a wave of his hand.
Vic made good on her word. She did run in a small grocery store and picked up a few things. Items to keep at Walt's like she intended. It also gave her some time to even out the nerves that were rattling her for reasons she couldn't name.
She was going to have to talk to Travis.
Walt was in the bedroom when she came into his cabin. He emerged having changed into a t-shirt and discarded her boots. Vic had her bag over her shoulder and the shopping bag in her hand. She smiled and brushed by him to put her bag in the bedroom and her toiletries in the bathroom.
Walt turned and trailed behind her.
"What did you buy?"
Vic pulled out the items and stuck them in his shower.
"Just some shampoo and soap that aren't for men. Oh…and a toothbrush."
His eyes flicked over her hands as she put them up and something in her hesitated.
"Do you mind?"
Walt shook his head.
"No, no I don't mind."
She crumpled up the bag in her hand.
"You sure?"
He smiled slightly.
"Course. You want a beer or…something to drink?"
"Sure."
She followed him back into the living room, stopping and dropped on the couch while he ambled into the kitchen and pulled out two beers. Walt passed her one of the cans and sat down beside her. Vic pulled her feet up and leaned back.
"So…do you think your brother likes me?"
"He doesn't seem to dislike you."
She rolled her head in his direction with a smile on her face.
"Michael likes everyone."
"I guess that's one less Moretti to worry about."
She took a sip from her can.
"Yeah. Walt, I'm sorry that dinner didn't go like you wanted. We can…try it again if you want."
"Sure."
His one word answer didn't do much for her.
"Or not."
His face clouded over.
"You don't want to?"
"You act like you don't want to? Are you mad about something?"
"No."
He cleared his throat.
"Do you know how long he's in town for?"
"Didn't ask."
Walt turned his can around in his hand.
"The comment that Michael made about you coming home more. Does that bother you?"
She tapped on finger on the cold can in her hand.
"They all do it."
"That's not what I asked?"
She looked at him, her eyes on his.
"What does it matter?"
"It doesn't. I guess. I just…is that why you don't go home more?"
He put the question to her carefully.
"I go home."
"Not very much."
"Are you the visit police now?"
He sighed at her response. Deflection,
Vic looked down at her hands.
"Why does this matter to you?"
"Because you matter to me. I don't want to see you unhappy."
"I'm not unhappy."
"I didn't say you were."
"You implied it."
"I wasn't implying anything. I just…I don't want to be a source of friction with your family."
"You're not. Not for me anyway."
Vic lifted her can and drank the rest of it before leaning forward to set her can on the coffee table. Turning to him, she invaded his space like someone on a mission.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore."
She kissed him and his mind went partially blank. Pulling back slightly, Vic took the can from his hand and set it aside. Once that was no longer between them, she pressed her mouth to his again.
His hands came up to her sides and his fingers flexed into the shirt she wore. She moved, throwing one leg over him so that she was sitting on his lap with her legs over his and facing him. Vic leaned in and kissed him again as her hands slid down and tugged at the bottom of his shirt. Walt sat up so that she could pull the shirt over his head. She tossed it aside and ran her palms over his bare chest.
His chest rose and fell with exaggerated breaths.
Her hands slid down over his stomach and she started to pull at his belt. Freeing it, she undid his pants and slipped her hand down onto his waistband. Walt inhaled sharply at the contact her hand made. Vic smiled at him.
"Take your pants off."
He pushed himself up to do as she asked, but hesitated.
"We should go to bed."
Vic shook her head.
"No, we shouldn't."
Walt held eye contact that seemed electric and shoved his pants down. Vic pushed them out of the way and studied him. Walt sat on the couch looking up at her. She didn't say anything else, though.
She merely slipped from his lap.