Chapter Five
JAMES STRODE INTO THE KITCHEN OF HIS HOME with a light heart, despite the fact that he was hot andsweaty from taking out the wooden post on which his bird feeder had been set. Now there was a slick metal pole in its place. Take that, squirrels!
He grinned at his own foolishness, pleased with life. His family was settled into their new house, and he had a job. His wife had been feeling quite well recently, and his sons were happy. What could be wrong, when all those things were right?
“Hi, honey.” Fern turned from the stove to welcome him, a smile warming her brown eyes. “I made that chicken casserole you love.”
James was staggered. Cutting up chicken breasts, even if they were already deboned, was something he usually did because MS made it difficult for Fern to work with knives. He resisted the urge to lecture her about danger, instead saying, “Wow,” as he crossed to her and dropped a light kiss on her lips. “You’re going to spoil me.”
“It's about time you got to be the spoiled one for a change.” Fern smiled, giving him a gentle push in the direction of their bedroom. “Why don't you get cleaned up?”
She gestured toward the dining room, where place settings were laid and trivets stood on the rarely used formal table waiting for hot dishes. Even the water glasses were filled with ice, and a pitcher of iced tea was set nearby. “And then if you want to call the boys, I’ll serve supper. They’re in their rooms working on homework.”
“All right.” He almost asked her how she was feeling—but remembered just before the words left his lips that she disliked that question, particularly when it was the first thing he asked upon arriving home. Surveying the table again, he realized that she really must be feeling good if she had been able to do all that. The thought pleased him, mostly because Fern was so much happier when she could do things for herself without having to depend on various family members and friends to care for her. He had never minded caring for her and never would; she was his heart. Unfortunately, she seemed to think he’d gotten a bad bargain, and she hated it when he had to do so much around the house.
After a quick shower, he walked toward the boys’ rooms, which were on the opposite side of the ranch home from the master bedroom he and Fern shared.
“Hey, guys,” he called. “Dinner.”
“Hi, Dad.” Fifteen-year-old Nelson appeared almost immediately, gave him a sweet smile and vanished in the direction of the kitchen.
Gideon didn't appear, so James walked to his elder son's bedroom. As he approached, he heard voices. One was Gideon's, and the other was definitely female, light and flirtatious. Surely Gideon didn't have a girl in his room? True, they had never talked about it, but James knew he and Fern would be in accord on the issue. No girls in the bedrooms.
James leaned around the doorframe and stuck his head into the room. “Hey, buddy.” In the instant before Gideon turned away from his computer to face him, two things registered. First, there was no girl in the room. Second, a pretty blonde had been beaming out of the computer monitor at Gideon in the instant before Gideon blanked his screen.
“Dad. What's up?” Gideon's voice sounded overly hearty.
“Time to eat. Are you video chatting?” James had heard of free services that allowed people with cameras in their computer monitors to talk live, face-to-face, although he had never used one.
“Yeah.”
“Pretty cool, huh?”
“Yeah.”
James suppressed a sigh and leaned against the doorjamb. Obviously Gideon didn't want to talk to him. “Dinner's on the table. Let's not keep your mother waiting.”
“Count me out. I’m not really hungry.”
“I beg your pardon?” James had never known his elder child not to be hungry. The kid had an appetite like a stevedore.
“I said I’m—”
James straightened. “I heard you. I’m just wondering why you think dinner's optional.” He didn't try to hide the thread of steel in his tone. Sometimes a little parental authority went a long way.
His son's face slowly turned a dark red, and his gaze slid away from his father's. “I’m not hungry,” he repeated.
James snorted. “You’re a teenage boy. Teenage boys are always hungry. How many snacks did you have after school?”
“Only one,” Gideon said in a defensive tone. He heaved an exaggerated sigh and turned back to the computer. “I’ll be there in a minute. Just let me shut this down.”
“All right.” James left the room, resisting the impulse to stand over his son until he turned off the machine.
But Gideon's word was good. In just a few minutes, the family was seated around the table. After James offered grace, Nelson said, “Gideon has some big news.”
“Shut up, Nelson.” Gideon sounded annoyed.
“What?” Nelson sounded virtuous and innocent. “I thought you’d like to share it with Mom and Dad.”
Gideon cast his sibling a narrow-eyed stare that promised retribution, but he cleared his throat and turned to his parents. “I’m going to the prom.”
James was startled, and he could see by Fern's expression that she hadn't anticipated the announcement either. Gideon was only a sophomore. “That's a surprise,” he said. “Who's the young lady?”
“Jenni Erickson,” Gideon said. The tips of his ears turned red.
“Gideon and Jenni sittin’ in a tree,” Nelson chanted in a singsongy voice.
“Knock it off,” Gideon growled.
“She's an older woman.” Nelson gave the words an intonation that indicated shock.
“She's just a junior. And she's only a couple of months older than me.” It was easy to see that Gideon was very close to losing his temper with his brother; his teeth were clenched.
“Nelson.” Fern's tone was reproving.
Their younger son subsided, but James could still see a gleam of sly amusement. He waited until he caught Nelson's eye and then stared him down, waiting until the boy rolled his eyes and looked down at his plate.
“How did you meet Jenni?” Fern passed a basket of rolls to Gideon as she spoke.
He shrugged. “Around school. She's friends with Debi Dean.” Debi was a neighbor who had lived down the street from their old house; she and Gideon had been in school together since kindergarten.
James cleared his throat. “I wish you had spoken to us before you accepted her invitation.”
“Why? It's not your business.”
“It is when we’ll be paying for your tux and her flowers,” James retorted.
“It's not just the money, sweetheart.” James was relieved to hear Fern chime in. “Your age is also a factor. You’re a sophomore. You still have two years ahead of you to do upper-class things like prom.”
“Actually,” Gideon said, “if we went strictly by chronological age, I should be a junior—I’m the same age as most of the juniors—maybe even older than some. But since you guys kept me from starting school for a year, she's a grade ahead.”
Hmm. That was true. James and Fern had been thinking about their young son's ability to stay in a seat and pay attention to his teachers all day when they had made that decision. That, and the fact that he would be at home a year longer before leaving the nest had been compelling factors.
“Let us think about this,” James said, hoping to quell any rising discord. Unfortunately, the possibility that going to the prom wasn't a done deal hadn't occurred to Gideon.
“But I already told her yes. And I’m not taking it back.”
“Yeah, she might ditch you for that guy she broke up with to go out with you.” Nelson kept his gaze innocently lowered as he forked up a mouthful of casserole.
Gideon looked positively murderous.
Fern looked distressed. “How long have you and this girl been…” She searched for the proper term. “Going out?”
Gideon shrugged, defiance in the set of his jaw. “A couple of months.”
Months? How did I miss this? thought James. And even as the question ros
e, he realized that Gideon must have been keeping it quiet deliberately, knowing what his parents’ reaction was probably going to be.
“You’d like her,” Gideon said. “She's an honors student.”
“That's nice, dear, but—” Fern began.
“You have to let me go,” Gideon said, a pleading note entering his voice. “Kids will laugh if they find out my parents wouldn't let me go to the prom.”
James didn't care for the scorn in Gideon's tone. But Fern appeared willing to overlook it.
“We know,” she said. “We won't forbid you from going.”
We won’t? James wasn't so sure he agreed with that.
“But you’re going to have to respect the fact that we need time to process this, and you may have a few limits. You’re only sixteen.”
Gideon made a disgusted sound, but he didn't argue. Apparently the promise that he could take Jenni Erickson to the prom had soothed him. And it was time to change the subject to something less volatile.
“Have you guys signed up for courses for next year yet?” James asked.
Gideon shook his head. Nelson, only a year behind Gideon in school, said, “They started with the incoming freshmen. Then they do juniors; and then they do Gid's class, and then mine.” Nelson would be a sophomore next year.
“What courses are you interested in?” James asked.
“I can take AP European History and AP Chemistry,” Nelson reported. “And Latin Two and Trig. I have to take the tenth-grade AP English and then I think I have two elective spots to fill.”
“Have you considered the Junior ROTC program that Gideon's involved with?” James asked. He’d had college tuition on his mind since Hope Haven had begun having financial troubles. Thank goodness ROTC would help Gideon get through college. Although Fern and he hadn't been thrilled when Gideon first showed interest in the JROTC, James had been impressed with what it had done for his son, and the possibility of college financial assistance couldn't be overlooked. True, Nelson probably could get academic scholarships, but ROTC might be a nice backup plan.
Nelson shook his head. “The military's not my style, Dad. But if I keep taking these Advanced Placement courses and do well on my SAT junior year, I should be able to get some scholarships. Maybe even a full ride, if I can find a school that wants me badly enough.”
James smiled. “You certainly are all over that, buddy. Thanks.” He nodded. “I appreciate your interest in seeking out scholarships.” It didn't have to be said; both boys knew that their financial situation had been a little precarious over the past few years.
He switched his attention to Gideon. “How about you? I guess you won't actually be signing up for a few more weeks, but you should have your thoughts in order.”
Gideon took a deep breath. “One thing I’m considering is dropping the JROTC program.”
Fern gave a startled exclamation, and even Nelson looked surprised, by which James gathered the brothers had not discussed this plan.
“Dropping JROTC?” He tried not to sound too horrified, but he suspected he didn't do a very good job. “Why?”
Gideon shrugged as he had earlier. James could already see he was going to loathe that particular new habit. “It takes up too much time.”
“Takes up too much time?” James echoed. “What do you need time for?” Unsuccessfully, he tried to stem the rising tide of anger that swept over him. His voice became far more stern than normal. “You are going to need every advantage you can get to pay for college. Your mother and I plan to help, but we won't be able to do it all.”
“I didn't ask you to.”
“I don't want to see you come out of college with a load of debt, either. Scholarships and JROTC look good to admissions counselors. And it has several programs of its own to help students with academic and SAT preparation.”
“But I don’t—”
“You are not dropping out of JROTC.” James tried to keep his voice calm and even.
With a sullen sneer, Gideon pushed his plate aside and crossed his arms. For the rest of the meal, he appeared to be completely shut down. Tuning out his family, he refused to acknowledge any of the rest of their conversation, not agreeing or disagreeing with anything that was said. It was difficult for James to believe that the glowering boy sitting opposite him was his easygoing, fun-loving son.
At work on Monday morning, Candace texted Heath to see if their breaks could coincide. When he said he’d meet her on a bench out front in ten minutes, she was pleased.
“Good morning,” she called the moment she spotted him.
“Good morning,” he replied. There didn't appear to be any strain in his voice. Although Candace had been upset with him for encouraging her mother's moving plans, they had glossed over the incident in the week since. Heath had eaten with them, they had attended Howie's ball game, and he’d even gone to church with her yesterday morning. But the way she had fussed at him had been preying on her mind.
She patted the seat beside her. It was peaceful in the sunny little garden area at the front of the hospital. An occasional car came through the entry circle, but their bench was a bit isolated.
Heath flopped onto the bench. “Ah. Feels great to relax without anyone yelling my name.”
“Busy morning?”
He nodded. “Radiology is nearly always busy during the day. But I’m training a new tech, and it seemed as if every other technician in the place had a problem today. One couldn't get the angle a doctor wanted on a broken ankle, one accidentally deleted a patient's brain scan, and one of the ultrasounds malfunctioned.” He shook his head. “It sure made the morning go fast.”
“Sounds hectic.” She slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
Heath turned his head and looked down at her, smiling. “How about you? Was your morning tame or terrible?”
“Pretty tame. One delivery. First-time mom, but she did well.” Candace took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology.”
Heath's brow furrowed. “You do? For what?”
“Last Sunday when you mentioned Mom's moving plans, I reacted negatively.”
Heath shrugged. “You and your mother are close. And she's been there for you during the worst time of your life. I understand why the thought of her moving might be frightening.”
“Frightening,” she repeated slowly. “That's an excellent word for it. I felt stupid for being unwilling to let Mom get on with her life, but it's not because she's a convenience or makes my life easier. It's more that she's my security blanket, isn't it?”
Heath chuckled. “I suppose it is. A living, breathing one.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry I jumped on you.”
“Apology accepted. You do understand that I love your mother, and I’d be happy if she continued to live with us after the wedding, right?”
Candace nodded. How had she ever been lucky enough to meet a second wonderful man to share her life?
Heath snapped his fingers. “I just remembered something else I’ve been wanting to ask you.”
Candace looked expectantly at him when he paused.
He took her hand, looking down at his ring on her finger. “I’d like us to take a family vacation this summer if we can work out our schedules. Start a tradition,” he said in a soft tone. “Us, the kids, and your mother. Any place you’d particularly like to go?”
A bubble of excitement rose. The beaches to which people in the Midwest flocked were those along the shores of the Great Lakes. Her children visited their grandparents in Florida each summer, but this would be very different. “The beach, please. I haven't been to a Michigan beach in a long, long time, and I know Brooke and Howie would love it.” She hesitated, realizing Heath's vacation preferences were something about which she knew nothing. “Are you a beach person? I mean, a real beach, not just a little place like Bass Lake. Because if you’re not, we don't have to—”
He held up a hand. “Stop. I love the beach. That's a great idea. Do you have a favorite beach? Or a favorite Great Lake?”
>
She shook her head. “No. When I was little, Mom used to take us to Chicago for a day at the beach. But I always thought it would be nice to go somewhere away from the city.”
“If we wanted to be really crazy, we could go east to the Atlantic,” he said. “Although that might be a long drive for the kids.”
“And for those of us stuck in a car with them,” Candace said, grinning. “I think, at least this first time, we’d better go somewhere a little closer to home. Maybe up the eastern side of Lake Michigan.”
“Good idea. I’ll do some research and see where some of the best beaches are.”
Candace squeezed his hand. “Thank you for suggesting this. I’m excited already.”
Chapter Six
FAMILY DINNER AT THE SCOTT HOME USUALLY WAS a Sunday event, but Cam and Evan had gone to see the Cubs at Wrigley Field in Chicago most of the day, so they had postponed dinner for a day. Anabelle had been a little annoyed with the pair. Why couldn't they have gotten tickets for a Saturday? She’d been certain someone wouldn't be able to make it on a weeknight—and since very soon Kirstie wouldn't be joining them on a regular basis, Anabelle wanted everyone there. However, she found it a pleasant surprise when all of their children showed up on Monday evening.
It wasn't quite warm enough to eat on the patio behind the house, so they ate around the large dining table. Anabelle's granddaughter Lindsay Belle was thirteen months old now, toddling around investigating everything she could find. She wasn't happy when Ainslee strapped her into the high chair, and she let everyone within earshot hear it.
“Whoa!” Evan put his fingers into his ears. “How do you stand that?” he asked Ainslee's husband, Doug.
Doug shrugged. “Grin and bear it. I’m hoping the squealing stage passes quickly.”
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