Reuniting His Family

by Jean C. Gordon

  “Got it.” He closed the door.

  She was babbling again. She rarely babbled. Renee breathed in and out. All she’d done was hand the man a shirt. And if that was enough to shred her equilibrium, how would she get through an hour or more of sitting with him at her laptop? It wasn’t as if she had a projector to show the screens on the wall so she could sit across the room or walk around while she presented the information. She collected herself. No. She was a professional. Working with people was her job, although she mostly worked with young people.

  But even at their worst, not one of the kids she’d worked with had thrown her off kilter like Rhys did.

  * * *

  Rhys cleaned the sink, put the body wash back where he’d found it on the side of the tub and folded the wet towel over the rack before he followed the smell of beef and fried onions to the kitchen. He really appreciated Renee and Claire’s thoughtfulness and how good the clean shirt felt.

  “That smells really good.” His stomach growled as if to agree.

  “Everything will be ready in a few minutes.” Claire flipped the burgers she was cooking in an iron frying pan. While they waited, Renee placed a plate of cherry tomatoes and sliced cucumbers on the table.

  “If you want to take any cucumbers or tomatoes home,” Claire said, “our grandmother keeps us well supplied.”

  “I’ll take you up on that.” Rhys placed his hand on the back of the kitchen chair closest to him. “Can I give you something for them?”

  “You look like a handy guy,” Claire said.

  Renee’s eyes narrowed.

  Rhys tapped the chair back, wishing he had more skill at reading women. He had no idea how they’d gotten from his offer to pay for the tomatoes and cucumbers to Claire’s remark.

  “How are you at building things?”

  That he knew. So he went with the flow. “It depends on what you’re building.”

  “The landlord said we could get a dog.”

  “He did?” Renee interrupted. “When?”

  “When I paid the rent and offered to pay extra if he let us.”

  “Yes,” Renee said. Her gaze softened. “We always had dogs at home.”

  This was another Renee, different from her reserved professional and how she’d been at the motocross races. He wasn’t sure how to meld them. Rhys eyed the burgers before he looked from Renee to Claire. “What does a dog have to do with building something?”

  “A doghouse,” they said in unison.

  He should have figured that out.

  “The hardware store has kits. Renee and I could manage, but it would be a snap for someone more experienced.”

  “Sit down. We can talk over dinner,” Renee said, opening the refrigerator. She looked over her shoulder at him. “We have iced tea and lemonade, from a can though, not fresh.”

  He pulled out the chair and sat. As if he’d be picky? “The lemonade is fine.”

  Renee poured his drink while Claire placed a plate with the burgers and a package of hamburger rolls in front of him. An off-balance warmth and feeling of uncertainty overtook him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been fussed over like this. Maybe never. At least not since he and Gwen were newlyweds, before the boys were born and she’d had to split her attention—and her love, he’d sometimes thought selfishly. He swallowed. He had to stop thinking of Renee and Gwen at the same time. It was too dangerous a direction.

  “Do you want me to say the blessing?” he asked when Renee and Claire finally settled in their seats on either side of him.

  “Please,” Renee said.

  Before he could fold his hands, Renee and Claire reached for them. The hand-holding again. He still wasn’t used to it. “Dear Lord, thank You for this bountiful food and Your hand in allowing me to share it. Amen.”

  “Amen.” Renee and Claire immediately released his hands.

  As if they’d all keep holding hands? He kept his eyes closed an extra moment to clear his mind. He put two rolls on his plate and speared a couple of the burgers with his fork. “About the doghouse... You might do better with lumber and a plan. Kits aren’t always as sturdy as you might want.”

  “You’d do that?” Claire asked. “We’d pay you.”

  Renee nodded and he shifted in his seat. “I’d be good with some more home-cooked food and...” He hesitated. “And...if you could help me get permission for Owen and Dylan to come and help me.” He dropped his gaze to the sandwich he was assembling on his plate. “When Gwen—” He couldn’t stop his voice from catching. “When she brought him to visit last spring, Owen went on and on about him and Josh Donnelly building his Pinewood Derby racer.”

  “Talk to Suzi and your caseworker. I’ll let them know I’m willing to supervise. It can’t hurt to ask.”

  First relief, and then a flood of powerlessness, washed over him. I shouldn’t have to ask.

  “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” Renee scooped out a helping of macaroni salad and handed him the bowl.

  Rhys concentrated on eating and let Renee and Claire talk for the rest of the meal. When he’d finished, he glanced at the clock on the coffeemaker.

  “Would you like coffee?” Claire asked.

  “No, thanks.” Might as well just say it. “I’d like to get going on the training. I don’t want Pastor Connor to have to come out too late to pick me up.”

  “Of course,” Renee said.

  He clenched his fists in his lap. Even if it was God’s current path for him, he hated having to rely on others.

  Renee hopped up to clear her plate and grabbed his, too.

  “You two go ahead,” Claire said. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

  Rhys rose. “Thanks for the food. I’ll check out some doghouse plans online, price the materials and get back to you.”

  “Great,” Claire said. “All we’ll need then is the dog.”

  “Make yourself comfortable in the living room while I get my computer,” Renee said.

  He let her leave the kitchen ahead of him and went into the living room, choosing to sit in one of the side chairs that flanked the couch.

  A moment later Renee and her laptop joined him. She stood at the opposite end of the coffee table, in front of the couch and chairs, and surveyed the room. “If I put the computer on the coffee table, we’ll both need to sit on the couch to see the training module on the screen.”

  Rhys took in the two soft, overstuffed cushions that dipped to the center of the couch, and made no motion to move.

  “You know,” Renee said. “It would be better if we did this at the kitchen table.”

  “Right.” Rhys was on his feet, following Renee to the kitchen before the word was out.

  “We’re going to set up in here instead,” Renee said when they returned to the kitchen.

  “Okay. I’ve got the dishwasher loaded. Turn it on when you’re done,” Claire said. “I’ll be in the living room reading the new romance novel I picked up when I was shopping.”

  Rhys couldn’t be certain, but from the way Renee stiffened, she might have also heard Claire emphasize the word romance.

  “All right. Let’s get to work,” Renee said, all business. She handed him a stapled packet of papers.

  He sat and leafed through the screen shots of the training module while she booted up the laptop. No, Claire knew too much about him. She wouldn’t be pushing her sister at him.

  The packet looked pretty straightforward. If Renee left him to his own devices, he could be through the module and out the door in less than an hour.

  She connected to the training module, tilted the computer toward him and moved her chair closer—he assumed so she could see the screen better. Why else? The evening breeze blowing through the open window above the sink wasn’t doing anything to cool the room.

/>   “You’ve taken online classes before?”

  “Almost an entire associate’s degree in general technology.”

  “Good. I’ll read you the presenter’s introduction and then leave you on your own to read the five sections and complete the questions at the end of each. If I were doing it for a group, I’d read the lead-in to each section. But you can read them as well as I can.” She lifted another packet. “I’ve got a grant request application to work on. Isn’t that crazy? They’re usually all online.”

  He didn’t know that, but almost all job applications were online, so he wasn’t surprised. Rhys listened to Renee read the introduction in what he’d come to think of as her professional voice, as opposed to her tone at dinner. She finished and he waited for her to move her chair back away from the computer—and from him. She didn’t. He rubbed his palm down the front of his jeans. Renee picked up a pen and went to work on her application, seemingly oblivious to him.

  Rhys read the first screen through, glanced sideways at Renee, looked at the first question and went back and read it again.

  Renee looked up. “Did you have a question? Feel free to ask anything. You won’t interrupt me.”

  Did that include asking her to move around to the other side of the table? “No, I’m good.”

  “Then I’m going to go down to the basement to put on some laundry. Some of the information I need for this application is at work, so I can’t finish it tonight.”

  “No problem.” He focused on the intro paragraph again and held his breath until she’d left the room before diving back into the training. A short while later he heard the murmur of voices in the other room and picked up his tempo. He only needed a seventy-five to pass.

  Twenty minutes later Renee still hadn’t reappeared in the kitchen. The tightness in his chest loosened. Maybe she needed distance from him as much as he needed distance from her.

  As if his thoughts had summoned her, Renee appeared in the doorway. “How are you doing?”

  “Finishing up the last section. I was about to take a break to call Connor.”

  “Go ahead. I have some other things I can do. When you finish, print your certificate to HP400 and let me know. It’s the wireless printer in my room.”

  “Got it.”

  Renee left, and he called Connor. To kill some time until his ride came, Rhys checked his email on his phone before answering the last two questions and submitting his training.

  Ninety. Not bad. The computer asked if he wanted to go back and review and re-answer the two questions he’d missed. Rhys checked the time on the computer. Connor wouldn’t be here for a few more minutes. He clicked yes.

  Five minutes later the sound of the apartment door opening and a voice saying, “Hi, Pastor Connor,” coincided with Rhys clicking Print for his now-perfect-score completion certificate.

  He stood and walked into the living room. “All done. I printed the certificate.”

  “It’s yours. The program will email a copy to the Bridges’ director. I’ll go get it.” Renee was back in a flash with the printout.

  “Thanks again for dinner,” Rhys said. “And, Claire, I’ll get those doghouse plans and estimate to you.”

  “Great. Rhys may build us a house for the dog we’re going to get,” Claire explained to Connor.

  Rhys ignored the other man’s raised eyebrows.

  “See you Thursday,” Renee said as she closed the door behind him and Connor.

  “Right.” He had no excuse not to be at the Bridges meeting this week. Rhys walked with Connor to the end of the sidewalk and stopped. He’d forgotten to ask Renee about the Saturday trip to the museum. Since she hadn’t said anything, she must not have thought of it, either.

  “Did you forget something?” Connor asked.

  He could probably get the information from Pastor Connor, but didn’t want to let on that he didn’t know the details about the outing. Rhys waved off Connor. “Nothing I can’t take care of at the meeting on Thursday.” Once he’d accepted it, the Bridges gig was his responsibility. He didn’t need to use Connor, or anyone else, as a crutch.

  Chapter Seven

  Rhys was almost as jazzed as his sons were about the mountain men reenactors and the historic logging program today at the Adirondack Museum. He looked up at the bright, almost cloudless sky above the Hazardtown Community Church parking lot. The day promised to be perfect.

  Rhys had spent most of his life in the Albany area, but he’d never heard of the museum before Suzi had mentioned the trip. He’d never been to the Adirondacks until he’d been sentenced to Dannemora.

  When he was growing up, trips of any kind had been rare, except for a couple of years when he’d lived with a foster family in Bethlehem. They’d taken him to museums and historic sites and to the Great Escape Amusement Park at Lake George both summers he’d been there. They’d even paid for him to swim with their son on the local private swim club. Although he’d done his best to hide it, he’d been devastated when that foster father had been transferred out of state for work. He’d kept in touch with the boy for a while, but the contact had died off.

  “Daddy!” Dylan tugged on his T-shirt. “You’re not listening to Miss Renee. She’s talking about who’s driving and who we’re supposed to ride with.”

  “I can take four of the children in my car, and Rhys Maddox will take the rest of them and our other parent chaperone, Paige Anderson, in the church van.”

  “Mom,” a young voice behind Rhys said, “that Rhys guy is the bad man you told me about. Dylan’s father.”

  Rhys tensed.

  “Remember, I told you he was at the Bridges meeting I went to this week. He wasn’t there the first time.”

  It had to be the new boy who’d started coming to Bridges the week he and Dylan and Owen had missed.

  A woman towing a boy about Dylan’s size walked around Rhys, giving him a wide berth, and approached Renee.

  “That’s Tyler, the kid that told me you were a bad man,” Dylan said. “He used to be my friend, but I’m not his friend anymore.”

  Rhys rested his hand on his younger son’s shoulder. He was defending him. That had to be progress. He squeezed Dylan’s shoulder, as much to dispel the combination of anger and helplessness pummeling him as to reassure his son. But he didn’t want either of his boys to lose friends because of him and what he’d done.

  The woman interrupted Renee and said something into her ear. Rhys could imagine what. He was well aware of what some people in the community thought of him and were saying about him and about Pastor Connor helping him relocate in Paradox Lake. But those people seemed to be a minority.

  Renee frowned and nodded. “Okay, Tyler, Emma, Melody and Serge will ride with me. Everyone else is in the van with Mr. Rhys and Mrs. Anderson.”

  “That means we’re riding with Dad,” Owen said.

  “I know that,” Dylan said. “I’m glad Emma is riding with Miss Renee. She talks to me too much.”

  Me, too, and her mother, as well, Rhys thought. He and Kari had been the first ones to arrive at the church this morning. The way Kari had pulled in right behind him almost made him wonder if she had been waiting in her driveway until he’d gone by her house, except he had no idea if he’d driven by her house.

  “Dylan, that wasn’t very nice. Emma is just friendly.”

  Dylan pulled away and Rhys clenched his teeth. Because he’d reprimanded Dylan, was he going to ask to ride with Renee now, even though Emma would be in the car, too? How would that go over with Tyler’s mother?

  “Come on, Dylan,” Owen said. “I’ll race you to the van.”

  He probably should have discouraged them from running, but Owen’s challenge had snapped Dylan out of it. “Line up by the van with Mrs. Anderson,” Renee called to the boys jostling for position beside the side door o
f the vehicle. Mr. Rhys will be right there.”

  Her nearness startled him. He’d been focused on his sons and hadn’t noticed her approach.

  “Don’t let her get to you.” Rhys didn’t have to ask who. “She has a knack for sucking the sunshine out of any gathering.” She tapped his arm. “Let’s see if we can put it back in.”

  This was the Cheerleader Renee he’d met at the motocross races that he had trouble reconciling with the Oh-So-Professional Renee he’d first met at CPS.

  “She didn’t bother me,” he said. Much. “I’m sure I’ve heard whatever she said before.”

  Renee pursed her lips, giving Rhys a picture of what she might have looked like when she was Emma’s age and someone had done something she’d objected to. But cute as that picture—past and present—was, he didn’t need Renee to fight his battles for him.

  “We’d better get to the cars before we have a riot,” she said. “We have some very excited little boys and girls on our hands.”

  Rhys looked over at the boys hopping and Emma twirling around beside the vehicles. Even shy little Melody had a big grin on her face rather than her usual withdrawn expression.

  “And.” Renee fingered her silver cross. “We have a couple of guys who look like they’d rather be anywhere but here.”

  He caught sight of Serge and another older boy off to the side looking disdainful. “No,” Rhys disagreed. “I know that look.” He should. He’d spent years perfecting it to protect himself from disappointment. “My guess is that they’re almost as excited as the younger kids, but too cool to show it.”

  “That’s what I was hoping. I’d like you to take them in your group when we split up at the museum for the tour and hands-on activities.”

  “Sure, along with Owen and Dylan.”

  Renee’s lips parted as if she was going to say something.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No. I was just thinking Dylan might want to be with the younger kids.” Her voice rose at the end of the sentence, indicating a question or nerves. “Some of the activities are age-based.”