The Soldier and the Single Mom

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “It will, thanks.” It had been the dog, and the stranger’s reaction to the dog, that had made her decide he was a reliable person to help her.

  That, and the fact that she was desperate.

  In her worst moments she wondered if she’d done the right thing, taking Bobby away from her in-laws’ wealth and security. But no way. They’d become more and more possessive of him, trying to push her out of the picture and care for him themselves. And she kept coming back to what she’d seen: her mother-in-law holding Bobby out for her father-in-law to hit, hard, causing the baby to wail in pain. Her father-in-law had started to shake Bobby, she was sure of it, despite their vigorous denials and efforts to turn the criticism back on her.

  Once she knew for sure, she couldn’t in good conscience stay herself, or leave Bobby in his grandparents’ care.

  When she’d first driven away from the mansion that had felt increasingly like a prison, relief had made her giddy. She’d not known how oppressed she had felt, living there, until she’d started driving across the country with no forwarding address. Realizations about her dead husband’s problems had stacked up, one on top of the other, until she was overwhelmed with gratitude to God for helping her escape the same awful consequences for herself and Bobby.

  As she’d crossed state lines, though, doubts had set in, so that now her dominant, gnawing emotion was fear. How would she make a living? What job could she get without references and with few marketable skills? And while she worked, who would watch Bobby? She wouldn’t leave her precious baby with just anyone. She had to be able to trust them. To know they’d love and care for him in her absence.

  Inside the house, a door slammed. “I’ve about had it, Buck!”

  She heard Buck’s voice, lower, soothing, though she couldn’t make out the words.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. She has a baby with her?”

  More quiet male talk.

  The door to the guesthouse burst open, and a woman about her age, in a dark silk robe, stood, hands on hips. “Okay, spill it. What’s your story?”

  The woman’s tone raised Gina’s hackles, whooshing her back to her in-laws and their demanding glares. The instinct to walk away was strong, but she had Bobby to consider. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, a calming technique from her yoga days. “Long version or short?”

  “I work all day and then come home and try to renovate this place. I’m tired.”

  “Short, then. My purse was stolen, I’m out of gas and I need a place to stay.”

  The woman frowned. “For how long?”

  “I...don’t know. A couple of days.”

  “Why can’t you call someone?”

  That was the key question. How did she explain how she’d gotten so isolated from her childhood friends, how she’d needed to go to a part of the country where she didn’t know anyone, both to make a fresh start and so that her in-laws didn’t find her? “That’s in the long version.”

  “So...” The woman cocked her head to one side, studying her with skepticism in every angle of her too-thin frame. “Are you part of some scam?”

  “Lacey.” Buck put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “If you’re opening a guesthouse, you need to be able to welcome people.”

  “If you’re serious about recovery from your drinking problem, you need to stop pulling stunts like this.”

  Buck winced.

  Gina reached up to rub her aching shoulder. Great. Another addict.

  The woman drew in a breath, visibly trying to remain calm. “I’m sorry. But you’re blinded by how she looks like Ivana. Stuff like this happens all the time in big cities. We have to be careful.”

  Bobby stirred and let out a little cry, and as Gina swayed to calm him, something inside her hardened. She was tired of explaining herself to other people. If she weren’t in such dire straits, she’d walk right down those pretty, welcoming porch steps and off into the night. “You can search me. All I’ve got is this diaper bag.” She shifted and held it out to the woman. “It’s hard to run a scam with an infant tagging along.”

  Buck raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment, and scarily enough, she could read what he was thinking. So you don’t have a gun in there.

  Of course she didn’t.

  The woman, Lacey, took it, set it down on the table and pawed through.

  Gina’s stomach tightened.

  Bobby started to cry in earnest. “Shh,” she soothed. He needed a diaper change, a feeding and bed. She could only hope the trauma and changes of the past few days wouldn’t damage him, that her own love and commitment and consistency would be enough.

  “Look, you can stay tonight and we’ll talk in the morning.” With a noisy sigh, the woman turned away, but not before Gina saw a pained expression on her face. “You settle her in,” she said to Buck. “Put her in the Escher.” She stormed inside, letting the screen door bang behind her.

  * * *

  Buck felt tired, inescapably tired, but also keyed up to where he knew he wasn’t going to sleep. “Come on,” he said to the beautiful stranger.

  But she didn’t follow. “This isn’t going to work out. I’ll find something else.”

  “There’s no place else.” He picked up her bag and beckoned her inside, with Crater padding behind him. “Don’t worry, Lacey will be more hospitable in the morning.” Maybe. He knew what else had bothered Lacey, besides the fact that she’d rescued him one too many times from some late-night escapade: Gina’s little boy. Just last year, Lacey had miscarried the baby who was all she had left of her soldier husband. Seeing someone who apparently wasn’t taking good care of her own child had to infuriate her.

  He wasn’t sure his sister’s judgment was fair; Gina might be doing the best she could for her baby, might be on the run from some danger worse than whatever she’d be likely to face on an Ohio country road.

  He led her through the vinyl sheeting and raw boards that were the future breakfast room, up the stairs and into the hallway that housed the guest rooms. “Here’s the only other finished one, besides mine,” he said, stopping at the room called the Escher. He opened the door and let her enter before him, ordering Crater to lie down just inside the door.

  Gina looked around, laughing with apparent delight. “This is amazing!”

  The bed appeared to float and the walls held prints by a modern artist Buck had only recently learned about. The nightstand was made to look like it was on its side, and the rug created an optical illusion of a spiraling series of stair steps.

  “Lacey was an art history major in college,” he explained. “She’s hoping to coordinate with the new art museum to attract guests.”

  “That’s so cool!” Gina walked from picture to picture, joggling the baby so he wouldn’t fuss. “I love Escher.”

  He felt a reluctant flash of liking for this woman who could spare the energy for art appreciation at a time like this. He also noticed that she knew who Escher was, which was more than he had, until Lacey had educated him.

  His curiosity about Gina kicked up a notch. She appeared to be destitute and basically homeless, but she was obviously educated. He scanned her slim-fitting trousers and crisp shirt: definitely expensive. Those diamond studs in her ears looked real.

  So why’d she been walking along a country road at night?

  She put the baby down on the bed and pulled out a diaper pad. “Sorry, he needs a change.”

  “Sheets and towels here,” he said, tapping a cabinet. “There might even be soap. Gina already let one couple stay here for a honeymoon visit.”

  She turned to him, one hand on the baby’s chest. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

  “No problem.” Though it was. “I’ll be right next door if you need anything.”

  She swallowed visibly. “Okay.”

  Unwa
nted compassion hit him. She was alone and scared in a strange place. “Look, Lacey is a real light sleeper. She’ll wake up if there’s any disturbance. And... I can leave Crater here if you want a guard dog.”

  “Thank you. That would be wonderful.” She put a hand on his arm. “You’ve been amazing.”

  He didn’t need her touching him. He backed away so quickly he bumped against the open door. “Stay, boy,” he ordered Crater and then let himself out.

  And stood in the hallway, listening to her cooing to her baby while a battle waged inside him. He wanted a drink in the worst way.

  He reached down, but of course, Crater wasn’t there to calm him. He took one step toward the front door. Stopped. Tried to picture his recovery mentor.

  Wondered whether the bar out by the highway was still open.

  Ten minutes later, after a phone call to his mentor, he tossed restlessly in his bed. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Two

  A hoarse shout woke Gina out of a restless sleep.

  Instinctively, she reached for Bobby. She found him in the nest she’d made with rolled blankets and towels. Thankfully, he slept on through more shouted words she couldn’t distinguish in her sleepy state.

  Sweat broke out on her body as she lay completely still, just as she’d done so many nights when her husband had come home drunk or high. Hoping, praying he’d sleep downstairs rather than coming up in the mood for some kind of interaction, whether affection or a fight. None of it ever ended well when he’d been using. Sometimes, his rage took physical form.

  A knock on the door made her heart pound harder, but then she realized it came from the next room. She heard the clink of an old-fashioned key in a lock. A woman’s murmuring voice: “It’s okay, Buck. It’s okay. You had another nightmare.”

  It all came clear to her: the guesthouse. The unfriendly landlady. Buck’s haunted eyes.

  Sounded like he’d had a nightmare and his sister had come to wake him out of it.

  She drew in a breath and rubbed Bobby’s back, comforted by the steady sound of his breathing. She’d landed in a safe place for the moment. The edges of the sky were just starting to brighten through the window, but she didn’t have to deal with her day just yet. She could sleep again.

  There were more murmurs next door. A hall door opened and closed. A toilet flushed. Then silence again.

  Surprisingly enough, she did drop back to sleep.

  * * *

  “Good morning!” Gina walked into the kitchen the next morning with Bobby on her hip. He’d woken up hungry, and she’d nursed him and fed him her last jar of baby food. It was time to figure out her next step.

  “Hey.” Lacey’s voice sounded unenthusiastic. She wore scrubs and sat with a cup of coffee in front of her. Her eyes were puffy and underlined by dark shadows.

  No wonder, given last night’s drama.

  Lacey obviously wasn’t going to make conversation, so Gina soldiered on. “Thank you so much for giving me and Bobby a place to sleep last night.”

  “Sure.” Lacey glanced up from her newspaper and then went back to reading an article on the local news page.

  “You headed to work?” Gina asked. “What do you do?”

  The woman tried to smile, but it was obviously an effort. “I’m a CNA. Certified Nursing Assistant. And yeah, I leave in half an hour.” A large orange cat wove its way between her legs and then jumped into her lap, and she ran her hands over it as if for comfort.

  “You want me to fix you breakfast?”

  That made Lacey look up. “What?”

  “I’m a pretty good cook. If you’re going to work, you need more than coffee.”

  Lacey let out a reluctant chuckle. “Is that so, Mom?”

  Buck walked into the room, stretching and yawning hugely. He wore a plain, snug-fitting white T-shirt and faded jeans.

  Gina swallowed hard. Okay. Yeah. He was handsome. At least, if you didn’t look into the abyss that seemed to live permanently behind his eyes.

  “How’s everyone this morning?” he asked in a forced, cheerful tone.

  Lacey pointed at Gina with her coffee cup. “She offered to cook breakfast.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Buck said. “I’ve got comp time at the clinic from last night, so I’m gonna work on the house today. Could use some fuel, for sure.”

  Lacey waved a hand toward the refrigerator and stove. “Knock yourself out,” she said to Gina.

  Gina shifted Bobby and walked over to Lacey. “Any chance you could hold him? His name’s Bobby, by the way.”

  Lacey scooted away so fast that the chair leg scraped along the freshly polished wood floor, leaving a raw scratch. “No, thanks. I... My hands are full with Mr. Whiskers.”

  Buck was there in a fraction of a second, concern all over his face. “I’ll take him.”

  Gina cocked her head at the two of them, curious. She’d never met a woman who wasn’t charmed by her son, especially when he was newly fed and changed, cooing and smiling.

  Buck, on the other hand, held Bobby like a pro, bouncing him on his knee and tickling his tummy to make him laugh.

  Gina rummaged in the refrigerator and found eggs, some Havarti cheese and green onions. It was enough to make a good-tasting scramble. Thick slices of bread went alongside, and she found some apples to cut up as a garnish.

  When she placed the plates in front of the two of them a few minutes later, they both looked surprised, and when Lacey tasted the eggs, she actually smiled. “Not bad.”

  “I like to cook.” Gina cleared her throat. “Is there any work you need done today? I have to find a way to get some gas out to my car, but other than that, I’d love to spend a few hours working around here in exchange for your letting me stay last night.”

  Lacey waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. This breakfast is payment enough.”

  “Truth is,” Gina said, her face heating, “I might need to impose on you for another night. So we could consider it advance payment.”

  The other woman studied her thoughtfully. “Can you handle an honest answer?”

  “Of course.”

  “I have a hard time trusting someone who can’t afford a hotel but can afford shoes like that.” She gestured at Gina’s designer loafers.

  Gina looked down at the soft leather and felt a moment’s shallow regret. She wouldn’t be wearing shoes like this anymore, that was for sure.

  “She could work this morning while I’m here,” Buck interjected. “We need cleanup help, and anyone could do that. And this afternoon, she can work on getting her car and whatever else she needs to do.”

  Gina gripped the edge of her chair for courage. Asking for favors wasn’t her favorite thing, not by a long shot, and she hated pushy people in general. But for Bobby, she’d do whatever was necessary. “What do you think about our staying tonight?”

  Lacey’s jaw hardened. “I’m not going to throw you out into the street right away,” she said, “but you need to figure things out. Surely there’s people you can call, things you can do. I don’t want this to become permanent. The last thing either Buck or I needs is a stranger with a baby around here. You’re poison to us right now.”

  Gina recoiled, shocked by the harsh words.

  Buck held up a hand. “Lacey—”

  “What? You know that’s why you had a nightmare last night. Because she looks like Ivana and she’s got a kid. It’s too much for either of us.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gina said, her heart going out to them. Underneath Lacey’s brusque exterior was real pain that kept peeking through.

  As for Buck, he’d looked down at his plate, but the set of his shoulders told her he wasn’t happy. Something had happened to him, maybe to both of them, and Gina couldn’t help wondering about it.

 
“I’ll help this morning, if you’ll allow it,” she said, “and then work on doing what I can this afternoon with my car so I can move on. Maybe there’s a police officer who can run me out to where it is. I’ll need to take some gas.”

  And she’d need to rely on God, because twenty dollars wasn’t going to buy much gas or baby food, and it was all she had.

  * * *

  Buck heaved a sigh as he put the last stroke of paint on the breakfast-room wall. Having Gina here was even more difficult than he’d expected.

  She worked hard, that was for sure. She’d single-handedly cleaned one of the guest rooms that had been finished but a mess. Carried out vinyl sheeting and masking tape, swept up nails, scrubbed the floor on her hands and knees, polished the bathroom fixtures to a shine. Now she was removing the tape from the area he’d painted yesterday.

  The only time she stopped working was when Bobby cried. Then she’d slip off, he assumed to nurse the baby or to change his diaper. She’d put together a makeshift playpen from a blanket and pillows, and he crawled around it and batted at a couple of toys she had in her diaper bag.

  She was resourceful, able to compartmentalize in a way few women he’d known could do. Certainly, in a way Ivana hadn’t been able to do.

  Unfortunately, in other ways, it was way too much like having Ivana around. Some of their best times had been working around the house together with the baby nearby. They’d felt like a happy family then.

  So having Gina and Bobby here now brought back good memories, but alongside them, a keen, aching awareness of all he’d lost. All he’d thrown away, really.

  He shook himself out of that line of thought. He had a mission, and he needed to stick to it. Find out what you can about her, Lacey had told him.

  He was curious enough that the job didn’t rankle. Not only would they find out whether she could be trusted to stay in their house another night, but he could maybe get rid of the crazy impression that this woman was just like Ivana.

  “Do you want me to help with the trim?” She came in now, a little out of breath, with Bobby on her hip. “Or I could work on the kitchen cabinets. I noticed they need cleaning out.”