by Noelle Hart
So now it was Will's turn to determine what would be the best course of action.
Driving out of the ferry terminal Will made a detour into Sidney, the budding township situated close by. There he pulled into a burger joint's drive thru window, loaded up on Max's favorite junk foods, then headed for a marina. He might have to indulge his kid's God given right to cheeseburgers and fries now and then, but he sure as hell didn't have to sit in one of the neon blasted plastic booths to eat it.
They walked to the end of the pier admiring the various vessels. Yachts, cabin cruisers, a couple of small aluminum row boats. At the end was a pile of upturned canoes and kayaks so they settled there, leaning against them and dangling their feet over the edge.
The harbor stretched out before them as the sun began its mid afternoon descent. Thalo blue Pacific water rippled as breezes teased the surface of reflected forest and summer sky. Picturesque didn't begin to describe it. Add to that the simple joy of spending quality time with the best little man in his world, Will felt a sweet contentment imbue him.
“Aw Dad, you got me juice. I wanted soda.”
“Have to compensate somewhere, kiddo. Apple juice is just as sweet and a whole lot better for you.”
A long suffering sigh ran through Max as he punched the little straw through the hole in the carton. “Is that what you tell your customers at the diner when they order soda?”
Taken aback, Will stared. “Okay, I can't figure out if you're being sarcastic or just mouthy. Which is it?”
Since there was amusement in his Dad's tone, Max took it up a notch. “I just think a person should be able to make up their own mind about what it is they want, that's all.”
Ah. So there it was. Already. He'd hoped to put off this conversation for at least a day. Will balled up the wrapper from his burger and shoved it into the greasy bag. “However much you think you should be able to make up your own mind, there's a reason why parents are responsible for their kids until they're eighteen. It's because they're too young to know what's good for them. You might think you're ready to make certain decisions in your life, but believe me kiddo, your brain cells still have a ways to go in that department.”
Max pouted. “My brain knows what's good for me. I know that soda isn't and juice has vitamins and crap. You see?” He tapped the side of his head. “Smart.”
“Well alright then. Let's talk about hormones. Know about them, mister brainiac?”
Max frowned. “Those have to do with how we grow, right? I heard Mom tell Tom - that's her fi-an-ce - that her hormones were going crazy.” The frown deepened. “Does that mean mine will go crazy too?”
Will laughed. “They most likely will in a couple more years. Then you'll start to think about girls. Want to kiss them,” he teased.
“Ew. No way! One time at school Glenda Sheridan followed me into the boys room and kissed me right on the lips! It was yucky, all wet and slobbery. I'm never gonna do that. Ever.”
With the solemn look in Max's eyes, Will bit back the laugh that was tickling his throat as he realized that Max at his tender age was already a heart-breaker.
“Kiddo, there will come a time when you'll think of nothing else. Trust me on that. When that happens you might have a few questions to ask me about it, but for now, finish your juice.”
“Why would I waste my time thinking about girls and... and kissing them, when I could be diving like that French guy I saw on TV. Maybe I'll even find treasure!”
His son with his meandering mind was his treasure. But they'd diverted from the topic. “Did you see right now how your brain cells couldn't cope with the idea of kissing girls? That's because they're immature. That means not ripe, like an apple that's still green on the tree.”
Max rolled his eyes. “Jeez. I know what immature means.”
“So you see,” Will persisted, “you're not ready to make major decisions in your life yet. That's why your Mom and me have to do that for you. Is that okay?”
“I guess so. But just until I'm eighteen.”
“Good, I'm glad you understand. Now, tell me about Tom.”
Max grimaced. “He's okay. He always wants to talk. Toss a baseball or something. He's lame.”
“Then I must be lame too, 'cuz we do those things. Heck, we're talking right now. And we've tossed a baseball or two.”
Max shrugged. “I know. But with you it's fun. With him it's like he's trying to show off.”
“If I were trying to score points with my girlfriend's kid I'd probably do the same thing.”
Sudden alarm lit Max's eyes. “You have a girlfriend?”
Will patted him on the shoulder. “No. But I'm working on that.”
Confusion reigned in Max's gaze. “You're trying to get one?”
“Let's just say that I've got my eye on someone special.”
“Does she know it?”
“Kinda.” But she had her own set of problems to work through first. Too complicated for an immature ten year old to fathom. “Things between men and women can be a little unclear sometimes. Like fog. You have to wait for it to clear before you can see what's up.”
Max thought about that for a bit. Then, “Dad, I think you're right about my brain cells being immature. I can't figure out what you're talking about.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I can't figure out what I'm talking about either.”
Max's giggle lifted the small weight that had begun to settle in his heart at the thought of Kylie Lambert.
“Maximus, I want you to know that it's okay to like Tom. He's Mom's best friend and he wants to be good friends with you too. Just because you're friends with him won't take away from the fact that I'm your Dad. I'll always be your Dad, no matter what. Understand?”
“I guess so. Mom told me it was like me having just one friend at school and not letting anybody else be my friend too. I wouldn't like that. I have tons of friends.”
“And you'll make many more in your lifetime. So tell me, why would you want to leave all your friends and come to live with me? And before you answer that, I want you to know that I love you...” putting a Buzz Lightyear inflection into it, “...to infinity and beyond, and that you'll always be welcome to live with me if that's what you truly want.”
Moments passed while Max chewed on it. “Living with Mom is cool, but why'd she have to go and get engaged?” He'd obviously been coached on the wordage. “We were just fine before Tom came along. Now she spends all her time with him.”
“Are you going to dump me if I get a girlfriend, Max?”
Max's legs swung up and down, his mind working hard to decipher what was going down. “No, I wouldn't do that. Not if she makes you happy.”
“Same goes for Mom. She has a right to be happy too. No reason why we can't all be happy together, is there?”
Resignation seeped in. “Guess not. Dad, I have to pee.”
A chill chased the last of the sunbeams across the water into the now late afternoon. Will rose, pulling Max to his feet. They made their way off the pier to find a washroom.
*
“Twenty-three calls and nine messages.” Kylie shoved a hand through her hair in growing alarm. “My God, Jolene, do I have to change my number?”
They were in the grocery store stocking up. Kylie's phone had emitted the first strains of the song assigned to Drew's number over and over.
“Why don't you send him just one message with a certain four letter word followed by a three letter word, then delete him from your phone. I think there's a way to block his calls too.”
Still in her work clothes of heavy boots, jeans and t-shirt, dirt and all, Kylie reached for a box of heavy duty laundry soap and tossed it into the cart. “Now every time I hear this tune I'm going to think about Drew. Damn it, I like this song.”
“Well at least your face is much better. Now instead of sock-it-to-me purple it's jaundice yellow.”
“Thanks. Just what I needed to hear.”
Kylie's phone went off again. Disgusted, she
jabbed a finger at the screen and yelped, “Oh stop already!”
Jolene lightly tapped Kylie's arm, then redirected Kylie's gaze down the aisle.
Drew stood with feet askance, hips cocked, his business suit rumpled and his face a mask of fury. He'd loosened his tie and his jacket hung carelessly open. In his hand he held his own phone, while Kylie's still melodically announced his call.
Her first impulse was to dash. Run, his own mother had told her, and keep on running. Annoyance didn't describe what she was seeing. This was all out anger. Complete with dagger eyes and a spittle-on-the-lip snarl. Kylie wished fervently she could slap open her communicator and have Scotty beam her up.
No such luck. Drew came toward them. When he reached Kylie's side he pointedly tapped his screen to end the call.
At closer range his face was infused with red. He'd missed a few spots while shaving and nicked himself where he had. Amazingly, despite the unruliness of his hair and disarray of his clothes, he was still a handsome specimen. Hopefully the child she carried would inherit some of that and not the imbalance of his brain. The cockiness, the tendency toward violence, that he could keep.
He took a deep breath and gained some control. “Clearly you're avoiding me,” he intoned, his eyes glued to hers.
He was standing too close for comfort. Behind her, Jolene had the cart in an iron grip and was looking around for a store employee. As always seemed to be the case when you wanted them, there weren't any.
Kylie stood her ground. “You should know that I will never again answer your calls or your messages, or have any part in your life. So cease and desist already, will ya?”
“You're pregnant with my baby.”
“Now that you've shown me what you are, I won't let you play Daddy, Drew. Men like you poison any relationship you touch. I'm putting an end to this before it escalates into a carbon copy of your mother's life.”
She might as well have slapped him. He flinched and took a step back. “I shouldn't have told you about that. Now you're using it against me.”
“Au contraire, Drew, your mother...” She stopped, realized it might cause Olivia undue consequences if she told Drew about their conversation in the park. “... seems like a good woman who didn't deserve the life she got.”
Drew eyed her suspiciously as her sentence trailed off. “I intend to be front and center in my kid's life. You won't stop me. I'll go for full custody if I have to.”
“Not going to happen, Drew. The law won't place a child with an abusive parent. I can't take the risk that your temper will land him or her in the hospital. Why don't you just back off?”
“Yeah, Drew,” piped in Jolene, “back off.”
His eyes whipped to Jolene's. “Ah yes, the roommate. Filling Kylie's head with bullshit. Telling her to dump me like a hot coal.” He pointed a finger at her. “You back off.”
The scene had heated up quickly and driven by curiosity, a few other shoppers came into the aisle.
Drew stepped close, in Kylie's face, his lips near her ear. His eyes were two hard, red-rimmed marbles. He whispered furiously, “You'd best reconsider my dear, because I'll get what I want, one way or another.”
Quick as a snake he bit her ear lobe. Hard!
And then he was gone.
Kylie began to shake all over. Jolene wrapped her arms around her until the shakes toned down to a mere tremble.
Too late but with good intentions, a store employee approached. “Everything okay here?” he asked.
Jolene nodded toward the cart. “Sorry, we have to go. Can I leave that for you?”
The older man had kind, understanding eyes. “Of course. No problem.”
Kylie felt like she was floating in a dream as Jolene ushered her outside and into the passenger side of her SUV. The decisive slam of the driver's side door snapped her back to reality as Jolene took her keys and started the engine.
“Wish I could say, let's get drunk,” said Jolene, “but obviously it's not an option. How about a gooey chocolate sundae instead?”
“Sugar. That'll calm my nerves.” On Jolene's raised eyebrows, “Sorry, sarcasm's my defense mechanism. Sounds like heaven.”
As Jolene maneuvered the truck through traffic, Kylie breathed easier. “I did some research on Google about family law. Turns out unwed fathers don't have a right to zippity-do-dah until the baby is born. And then they have to prove they are the father by taking a paternity test.” She fought an urge to cry as a gurgling, hysterical laugh lodged in her throat. “I was actually considering the idea of telling him it's not his just to get him off my back.”
“Now there's an idea.”
“But then what if he demands a paternity test? Can he do that? Hell, I guess I need to lawyer up. Get a Parental Rights attorney.”
“You do realize that his so-called desire to be part of this baby's life is just a ruse to get next to you, don't you?”
“Probably. But why would he want me now that he knows I'm not going to cow to his violence?”
“Maybe you're a challenge. The one that got away. Who knows what goes through the mind of a woman basher.”
“Google says this falls under a Family Relations Act. It not only sounds official but like it's going to cost a small fortune. Jolene, I've got baby expenses galore coming up. In fact, that's something we need to talk about. Will you be willing to stay on as my roommate with a brawling baby keeping us up nights? The only place to keep the mini-me will be in my room, and our apartment isn't exactly sound proof.”
Jolene patted Kylie's hand. “I'm all over it. I love babies. In fact, I've had lots of practice with my younger brothers and sisters, so I can pass on some of my superior knowledge to you.”
A genuine laugh bubbled out. As they pulled into the parking lot of the ice-cream parlor Kyle blew past her mad frustration and proclaimed, “I'm in the mood for a double-dip!”
Jolene high-fived her. “Eating for two after all.”
*
Lillian McFarley dropped her tray filled with weighted paper plates and cups just before she made it to the swing-through door into the kitchen.
The clatter had Lyle and Kim shaking their heads. Will wanted to see if she had the right stuff and so he'd scheduled a few days of training with Jolene. Thankfully this was a dry run without actual crockery and utensils; it was painfully obvious the woman had no balance whatsoever.
Hands on hips, Jolene rolled her eyes. “No way are you ready to work the real deal.” She helped Lillian retrieve the scattered practice pieces for another go at it, although she was barely keeping in check an urge to smack the woman because clearly, Lillian was after her man.
Didn't she know Lyle was taken?
Or for that matter, she realized, did Lyle know he was taken?
With that thought niggling at her subconscious Jolene pushed Lillian harder.
The diner not open yet, Dino scampered through the central area with a rawhide bone in his mouth. He settled under a table and began tearing into it with gusto.
“Oh now that's just disgusting,” Lillian complained. “He's probably got fleas. You'd think Will wouldn't allow him in here.”
Jolene smiled serenely. “He doesn't. But he's out right now.”
“So you just let that dog do whatever he wants?”
Jolene shrugged, all innocence.
Lillian leapt on the fact that Jolene was by-passing a strict restaurant code, a fact she felt compelled to bring to the attention of hunky Lyle Morris in lieu of Will.
“I need to use the washroom,” said Lillian.
“Go.” Jolene watched Lillian detour into the kitchen and positioned herself to one side of the pass-through to eavesdrop on what was being said.
“... and so now he's under a table making a mess with a bone,” came Lillian's sugar-laced voice.
“I see,” Lyle's response could be heard. “Is that a problem for you?”
There was a pause in which Lillian must have been mentally back-paddling, having received an answer she h
adn't anticipated. “Well, I... I just thought that, you know, health codes and all. Shouldn't Jolene be adhering to them?”
From her position Jolene saw Kim move into her line of sight. He looked up and winked at her.
“Let me set your mind at ease,” Lyle was saying. “I rescued that little dog from a dire situation. He was hurt and dying, not a hope in the world. Now we're his family. Dino came into my life just when I needed him too, so I figure we're even.”
“He's your dog?”
“He belongs to himself, but he lives with me.”
Jolene made a mental note to ask him about Dino coming into his life at the right time, while enjoying the way Lillian's bubble was being burst.
“As far as Jolene is concerned,” continued Lyle while Jolene held her breath, “she's only doing what I asked her to, to give Dino his space until opening time. Then he goes to the back room and stays on his bed in a corner. Is that a problem for you?”
Jolene let out her breath. It wasn't what she'd like to have heard but it wasn't bad either.
“No, of course not.” Lillian changed tactics. “I like dogs,” she crooned, her tone sexified. “He's very cute. Takes after his owner.”
Jolene could almost see the bitch batting her eyelashes. On the verge of running into the kitchen to give Lillian a piece of her mind, Kim flashed her a warning with his eyes before interrupting any further flirtations by deliberately dropping a bowl on the floor and cursing when the contents went flying.
“Butterfingers!” barked Lyle. The rest of his tirade was lost on Jolene as she stormed to the cash register where Eileen was booting up the credit card machines.
“I see steam,” said Eileen. “Is that girl giving you a run for your money?”
“She better run.”
Eileen snickered. “Calm down. She's not working here yet. If you get my drift.”