by Merry Farmer
Hero nodded and followed her directions. After a pause, he said, “So Bob’s Burger Barn, eh? Anything with the word ‘burger’ in it sounds like a great idea to me.”
“Good. Burgers it is, then.”
She couldn’t believe it. She had a date with Handsome Hero. And he was moving to Haskell. Haskell was close enough that they could continue to date. They could even be sweethearts. Maybe more.
But no, she was getting way ahead of herself. Burgers with the guy who had come to her rescue was good enough for now. She’d just sit back and bask in the glow of how nice it felt to have someone think well of her for a change. She would—
“Oh no.” Her entire mood was destroyed in an instant.
“What?” Hero asked, suddenly all concern.
Denise didn’t know how to explain. She pointed to her driveway, and he pulled in alongside a fancy, shiny truck with Arizona plates. She knew that truck. She barely ever saw it, but that was part of the problem. Without a doubt, that truck belonged to Wes. Destiny’s daddy was back.
3
Hero had always prided himself on being able to size up situations in a hurry. It came in handy when working in intense situations with tight deadlines and clients who wanted outrageous designs at the spur of the moment. As soon as Denise muttered, “Oh no,” and then didn’t answer him when he asked what had upset her, he knew he’d walked into the middle of a big drama.
Okay. He’d wanted an adventure. Well, here it was. He cut his engine and hopped out of the car, determined to help Denise in any way he could. He liked her, thought she was sweet. And his spidey-sense told him she needed someone by her side right then. He even ran around to open the car door for her, but she already had it open and had launched herself out of the car toward the house when he got there.
“Mom?” she called as she marched toward the door. “Destiny?”
The house was nothing special. It was a simple, two-story construction with worn vinyl siding that had lost whatever color it’d originally had. The entry still had a screen door up in front of a solid door, even though it was well into the fall. Putting two and two together with the age and condition of Denise’s car, Hero determined that Denise and her family were doing okay, but they didn’t have any extra money to spend.
“Destiny?” Denise called out again, crossing through the door into a modest, outdated living room.
“Mom!” A teenage girl wearing a shirt plastered with the latest boy band’s logo and faded jeans jumped up from the sofa, smile wide, excitement in her eyes. “Mom, look!” She held up a shiny, silver iPad. “Look what Wes got me.”
“I told you to call me Dad.”
Hero’s spine stiffened. He darted a glance to the man lounging on the sofa, arms spread over the back, legs splayed with casual arrogance. He must have been around Denise’s age and had the air of someone who had been hot stuff in high school—and who still thought he was hot stuff—but had started to go to seed. His expensive, button-down shirt stretched over a paunch, and a softness dulled the lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Destiny’s dad?
Hero ran through everything Denise had told him earlier. She’d gotten pregnant with Destiny in high school. So she probably hadn’t been married to this guy. For some reason, he was relieved at the thought.
“What is that?” Denise’s voice shook as she took the iPad from Destiny and turned it over. Her glance darted to the guy on the sofa, who looked on with a smug satisfaction that made Hero want to put his martial arts skills to good use.
“Duh, Mom, it’s an iPad,” Destiny answered with typical teenage sass.
“I can see that.” Denise shook herself, handing the iPad back. “I know what an iPad is.” Worry pinched her face in a way that made Hero think Denise was genuinely concerned her daughter and her ex would think she was stupid.
“Look what else Wes…I mean, Dad got me.” Destiny dashed to the modest-sized TV on a stand in the corner. A brand new gaming system—one of the higher-end ones—sat, freshly opened, on the carpet, its box tossed aside. “And he got me these cool sunglasses.” Destiny reached into her back pocket and pulled out a pair of Tom Fords.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist—even though Hero technically was one—to spot a delinquent father trying to buy his daughter off with expensive stuff. Hero still hadn’t been introduced to any of the players in this drama, but he knew that type of guy all too well.
Denise gaped at her daughter, blinking rapidly. She turned to the guy on the couch. “Wes, what is the meaning of this?” Her voice was a little too weak to be a demand.
“Nothing.” Wes shrugged and stood with lazy movements, sniffing and tugging up his designer jeans as he did. “I just thought our little girl could use some nice things.” He glanced around, spreading his arms. “I don’t see any nice things around here.”
“I work hard to keep this roof over our heads,” Denise said, tense and increasingly angry. “I put food on our table every day, keep the lights on, pay for Destiny’s school things and activities. Not once have you paid a dime of child support.”
“Hey.” Wes shrugged. “Consider these gifts as me catching up on that.”
“What do you…how can you possibly…they don’t even begin…” Denise visibly shook.
Wes ignored her, gesturing with his chin to Hero instead. “Who’s he?”
“Yeah, Mom, who’s he?” Destiny moved to stand next to her dad, imitating his stance.
Hero was caught between wanting to glare like a tough guy and stand up for Denise. He wanted to intimidate Wes, but also smile all friendly-like to win over Destiny, who was clearly in the process of having her affections bought. He ended up somewhere in between, holding out his hand to Wes without a smile. “I’m Hero. Hero Yamaguchi.”
Wes shook his hand, eyes narrowed. It was like shaking hands with a dead fish.
“Hero?” Destiny blinked, curious.
“My car broke down on the highway,” Denise explained, growing stronger with each word. “Hero came along and rescued me.”
“What’s this?” A new voice asked. Hero turned to find an older woman with a kind smile entering the room with a tray of steaming mugs, surrounded by the scent of coffee.
Another woman, tall and willowy, her horse-y face plastered with way too much make-up, ambled in behind the old woman. She wore a gaudy amount of gold jewelry and snapped the gum she was chewing before sliding up to Wes’s side. She kissed him unnecessarily, then turned a gloating look on Denise. Obviously, she was Wes’s…something.
“Oh, hello.” The old woman smiled warmly at Hero. She set her tray of coffee on the end table beside the sofa, then came over to greet him. “Did I hear Denise say your name was Hero?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hero’s smile was genuine as he took the old woman’s offered hand. She was the kind of sweet lady that brightened an entire room when she entered it. Even the room they currently stood in.
“I’m Denise’s mother, Myrna Bonneville,” she said. “You can call me Myrna, or you can call me Mrs. B., like my students always did.”
Hero opened his mouth to comment on her being a teacher, but the conversation veered in a different direction.
“And who is this?” Denise squeaked, clearly upset, glancing between Wes and the over-decorated stick insect now clinging to him.
“Denise, I want you to meet Mona. Mona, Denise,” Wes said.
“Pleased to meet you.” Mona held out a hand to Denise, though her tone and expression were more predatory than welcoming.
As Denise shook the woman’s hand, Wes added, “Mona’s my new wife.”
Hero tensed, watching the situation like an experiment that had the potential to explode. Instead of getting emotional and falling apart, Denise let out a disappointed breath and crossed her arms. “Another one?”
“Hey, watch it,” Wes snapped. “Mona’s the real deal. This time is forever.”
“That’s what you said the last two times,” Denise mumbled.
“I know abou
t the other two,” Mona sniffed, turning up her nose. “So don’t think you can use that to scare me off and win him back.”
Denise laughed. “What makes you think I want him back?”
“Mom,” Destiny hissed. She wore the mortified look of a teen who was embarrassed to death by the fact that their parent existed.
“So, Hero.” Mrs. B. turned to him, her voice raised just enough, like a teacher attempting to gain control of an unruly class. “You rescued Denise when her car broke down?”
“Yes.” Hero took her hint. He glanced from Denise to Destiny to Wes and Mona. “I’m on my way to Haskell where I’ll be starting a new job next week.”
“So you’re not another boyfriend?” Destiny asked in such a way to hint there’d been a lot of those. She followed her comment with a smug look for her mother.
“Destiny,” Denise scolded.
Teenage girl. Absentee father bringing gifts. Boring old mom who enforces the rules showing disapproval. Hero thought he was keeping up with the undercurrents. He felt bad for Denise having to deal with teen angst when she didn’t deserve it.
Denise turned an apologetic half-smile to Hero. “I’m sorry. There haven’t really been that many guys.”
Destiny snorted. “What about Mr. Culpepper?”
“I never dated him.”
“And that creepy newspaper guy from Louisville?”
“That was…that was just a date.”
“And the trucker who came through last month.”
“I cut his hair, he didn’t have enough for a tip, so he bought me lunch.”
“And that weird ranch hand.”
“I am allowed to go out on a date now and then,” Denise burst in frustration.
“Now him?” Destiny sassed.
“Maybe we could all go out for dinner together sometime,” Hero suggested, glancing from Denise to Destiny to Mrs. B.
Destiny started. “Whoa. Are you really going out with my mom?”
Hero saw his way in through the bullish, teenage armor and took it. “I did ask her out to lunch. We’re going to a burger barn.”
“You and my mom?” Destiny continued to look nonplussed.
Hero shrugged. “We got to talking while waiting for the tow-truck. I like your mom.” He turned to Denise with a smile he figured she could use right then. “She’s quirky.”
Denise softened into a grateful grin. “Thanks.”
Wes snorted, sounding eerily similar to his teenage daughter. “Quirky? Is that what they’re calling it now?” He turned to Mona and muttered, “In my day, the word was ‘slutty.’”
Mona cackled. Mrs. B. pursed her lips in disapproval. Denise’s face fell. The first signs of Destiny doubting her father showed in the uncertain frown that touched her brow.
Hero didn’t want to interfere in Denise’s family drama, but he couldn’t just stand there and not defend the woman he…liked a whole lot. “Hey, is that the way you want men talking to your daughter?” He took a challenging step closer to Wes. “Because she’s standing right here, listening to you being disrespectful.”
“You stay out of this, Chinky.” Wes pointed a finger at him. “I’ll raise my daughter the way I see fit.”
“You aren’t raising her at all,” Denise growled. “Mom and I have been doing that all by ourselves.”
“Yeah?” Wes shifted his attitude to her. “Well, I’m here to change all that.”
“What?” Denise lost her bravado, fear filling her expression instead.
“Yeah.” Wes puffed himself up and grinned. “My car dealership is doing really good these days. So good that I’m running for a seat on the city council. Voters like solid family men representing them.”
Hero’s guard instantly went up, as if Wes had tipped his cards. Clearly, there was much more going on than met the eye.
Wes seemed to know that he’d betrayed his agenda and backpedaled. “And also, since Mona and I got married, we’ve been wanting to start a family. What with your reputation and this dump looking the way it is, we figure it’ll be a piece of cake to gain custody of Destiny to jumpstart our image—I mean, family.”
“What?” Denise’s voice cracked.
“What?” Destiny echoed, expression caught between elation and uncertainty.
Wes turned to Destiny. “Yeah, that’s right, punkin’. Daddy wants to bring you back to Phoenix to live with him.”
“You didn’t say that before.” Destiny shifted from one foot to the other, hugging herself.
“I’m saying it now.” Wes grinned, sneering at Denise before going on. “We got a big house down near Scottsdale. You think these little presents are awesome? I got a whole entertainment system, seventy-eight-inch HDTV, a pool in the backyard. You can shop at all the designer stores, wear the latest stuff. I’ll get you your own car next year too.”
“You’ll get me my own car?” Destiny’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
“Yeah. Daddy’ll take really good care of you.”
“But you’ve never so much as sent Christmas presents before,” Denise argued.
Wes shrugged. “That’s all in the past. You can thank Mona for my newfound sense of responsibility and fatherhood.”
As far as Hero was concerned, the whole thing was more about what would look good to voters than paternal instinct. His stomach turned more and more with each second. Denise looked like she wanted to scratch Mona’s eyes out. Mona just stood there and gloated, checking her manicured nails like nothing was going on.
It was Mrs. B. who broke the shocked silence that followed. “Well, nothing has to be decided today. Custody discussions take a long time and involve a lot of legal professionals. We can deal with this in good time.”
“Right you are, Mrs. B.” Wes slapped Mona’s backside and started with her toward the door. He turned to Destiny at the last minute. “You just think about how great things could be, punkin’.”
“Okay, Dad.” Destiny waved to him as he left, her eyes still as round as saucers, her shoulders slack, like she couldn't quite believe what was going on.
All that changed when Denise snapped, “You are not going to live with that loser, Destiny.”
Hero cringed even before Destiny fired back with, “What? Mom, that is so unfair!” He might not have known much about teenagers, but he remembered the way his sister had flown off the handle every time their parents told her to do something she didn’t want to do, or vice versa.
“Think about it, Destiny.” Denise responded with far more calm and pleading than Hero’s mom ever had. “I know you’ve missed having a daddy in your life, but where has Wes been all these years? He’s running for office. Baby, I hate it as much as you, but the only reason he’s showering you with all this attention now is because he wants something.”
Hero was impressed and couldn’t help but smile at Denise’s handling of the situation.
Destiny didn’t share his opinion. “That’s not fair.” She stomped her foot. “You just hate him because he’s rich now and you’re just a poor, dumb hairdresser.”
Color splashed to Denise’s cheeks, and she looked as though she might cry. Hero slid closer to her, but stopped short of putting his arm around her. He had no idea if it would be appropriate or not.
“Destiny Melinda Bonneville, watch your manners,” Mrs. B. scolded her. “Your mother has worked very hard to give you everything she can.”
“Yeah? Well, Wes…I mean, Daddy gave me designer sunglasses.” She held up the Tom Fords in one hand and the tablet in the other. “And an iPad. And a gaming system so that my friends can all come over and play.” She immediately straightened. “On second thought, no. I don’t want my friends coming over here. I don’t want them to see what a dump I live in. And it’s all your fault.”
She didn’t wait for Mrs. B. to scold her again or for Denise to argue with her. Without so much as acknowledging them—or Hero—she stomped over to the staircase in the corner of the room and marched upstairs. A few more thumping footfalls, and a d
oor slammed.
The tiniest whimper of defeat escaped from Denise.
“There, there.” Mrs. B. stepped over to her, giving her the hug Hero wanted to give her. “She’s at that age. Remember how you were at that age?”
“I know, I know.” Denise hugged her before holding her at arm’s length, then waving her away. “I was ‘that age’ up until this spring. I suppose I deserve this kind of treatment.”
“No, you don’t,” Mrs. B. assured her.
“If it makes any difference, I don’t think you deserve to be treated that way either,” Hero added, caught between feeling useless and feeling as though he might just have been swept into Denise’s life at the exact moment when she needed someone. He chose to go with the latter, trusting whatever higher power had brought him and Denise together.
He took that one step further and gave in to his instinct to hug her. “Remember,” he said as he closed his arms around her, holding her close. “I told you I’ve never met any horrible people before. I still haven’t.”
Not entirely unexpectedly, Denise burst into tears at his kind words. She hugged him tight, dropping her head to his shoulder. A tight knot formed in Hero’s chest. It was kind of nice to be able to be there for someone when they needed him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Mrs. B. staring at him with an assessing gaze, a mysterious grin growing on her face. “Let me just take this coffee back into the kitchen to warm it up,” she said, moving to the end table where she’d set her tray before the fireworks. “I’ll just pop it in the microwave, then bring it back with some of those cookies I made earlier.”
Denise sniffled, pulled back from Hero’s chest, and wiped her eyes. “You made cookies?”
“Yes, dear. Those soft molasses ones that you like so much.” She sent Hero an approving look, her grin wider still. “I’ll bring you a whole plate.”
“Okay.” Denise sniffled some more, trying to pull herself together. As soon as Mrs. B. left the room, she glanced warily up at Hero. “I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a total mess and a failure at life now.”
“Not at all.” Hero laughed. He gestured for her to move with him to the sofa. “In fact, I was just thinking that maybe the universe dropped me in your path at just the right time.”