The Bachelor's Sweetheart

by Jean C. Gordon

  “Hand me the pencil and the straight edge,” he said.

  “You mean this ruler?” Owen asked.

  “Yep. I’m going to make two lines to show us where to cut the wood, here and here.” Josh ran his finger across and down the wood block that would be the body of the car. He looked at his diagram and drew the lines. “Ready to make the first cut?”

  “You’re going to let me, by myself?”

  “It’s your car. You have to do the work.” Josh stepped behind Owen. “Put your hand on the front of the block.” He placed his hand over the boy’s. “Here’s the saw. Stop here.” Josh pointed to the intersection of the two lines he’d drawn.

  “I pull it back and forth like this, on the line, right?”

  “You’ve got it.”

  During the minutes it took for Owen’s short back-and-forth motion to cut through the block, Josh went back in time to another project, a birdhouse for a fourth grade science project. Dad had stood behind him, just as he stood behind Owen, guiding him in cutting and nailing together the pieces. After they painted it and hung it in the tree next to the garage, Dad had taken him—only him—to get a kid’s meal at a fast food restaurant in Ticonderoga. Then, one night the next week, after a pair of robins had laid eggs in the birdhouse, Dad had drunkenly stumbled into the birdhouse, knocked it down and kicked it across the yard, putting an end to the robins and the project and the memory of the fun they’d had.

  “Done,” Owen said, stopping his sawing where Josh had shown him to.

  The boy’s smile shot through Josh, warming and saddening him. He’d have to be happy with this and being a big brother and uncle. There was no way he’d ever be a real dad. Not with the fear he held inside that he might parent as his father had.

  Josh helped Owen slide the saw out of the cut.

  “What I sawed is going to be the spoiler, right?”

  “Right.” The spoiler. That’s why he couldn’t accept Dad, as he was trying to accept Tessa. Dad always ended up spoiling everything good, and Josh couldn’t let him spoil him and Tessa.

  Owen flexed his fingers. “My hand’s tired. Can you do the other cutting?”

  “Sure.” He figured other fathers—and mothers—must help their kids. Besides attacking the wood block would work off some of the resentment his memory had kindled. In no time, the triangular woodcut curving up to Owen’s spoiler fell to the bench top.

  “That was fast,” Owen said.

  “Hey, you want to get to the fun part, painting and detailing, don’t you?”

  Owen bobbed his head up and down in agreement. “I want to paint it red. My daddy had a red Charger. It was fast. He had to sell it to pay Dylan’s doctor’s bills.”

  Owen’s father might be a felon, but it sounded like he’d taken more responsibility for his family than his old man had. Dad had let everything fall on Mom. Josh squeezed the bridge of his nose. Unbelievable. He was jealous of a little boy whose father was in prison and mother was in a coma in the hospital’s intensive care unit.

  “Red’s good. What do you say to black details?”

  “Yeah! Will we get to paint it tonight?”

  Josh studied the rough-cut block. “Not tonight. All the edges need to be sanded smooth like in my drawing. I’ll show you how, and then I think it’s time to go test Suzi’s brownies. We can paint next weekend, Saturday after the soccer game.”

  “All right.”

  A few minutes later they were upstairs at the kitchen table with two brownies each in front of them and big glasses of milk Owen had poured.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Owen said between bites.

  “Shoot,” Josh said, expecting something about the car.

  “Hope says you don’t like your father since he came back. Do you think when I’m bigger and Daddy comes back I won’t like him anymore?”

  Josh choked on his mouthful of milk. Shouldn’t Owen be talking about stuff like this with the Hills? They had foster parent training. He couldn’t tell the kid he’d never liked his father. No, that wasn’t true. But he hadn’t in a long time.

  “Your situation’s different.”

  Owen eyed him with a solemn expression.

  “My father just left us. We didn’t see him for years and years.”

  “Yeah, Hope told me she never saw him before he moved here.”

  “You see your dad. You told me you and your mom moved here so it would be easier to go see him.”

  Owen nodded. “And I write him letters about school and soccer, and I’m going to send him a picture of my race car when it’s done. Mom and Dylan and I pray for him, too. She said she thinks it’s working. The last letter we got, Dad said he’d gotten a Bible and was looking up all the verses Dylan and I told him we’re learning in Sunday school.”

  “That’s good.” The brownie Josh had eaten sat in his stomach like a lead bullet.

  “Mom says we’ll be okay when Dad gets out. We just have to be positive and encouraging until then.”

  “Your mom’s a smart lady.”

  Owen smiled. “You could try being positive and encouraging to your father.”

  Like Tessa keeps telling me. Josh stared at Owen for a moment, feeling as if the boy was the adult and he was the child.

  Suzi poked her head in the kitchen. “Time to get ready for bed, Owen.”

  Josh rose, glad he’d dodged having to respond to Owen. “Work on that sanding so it’s finished by next Saturday afternoon.”

  “I’ll have it done.”

  “Good man.”

  Positive and encouraging. Owen’s words stuck with Josh as he let himself out. If only he could hold on to the good memories like Owen and not let the bad ones crush them. If Al-Anon and God could show him how to do that, maybe he could support his father and bury his fear that Tessa might become one more of Jerry Donnelly’s casualties.

  * * *

  Tessa’s heart bled for the two little boys who stood by the graveside at the Hazardtown cemetery behind the church, clutching the hands of a tall, dark-haired man in leg irons. Two New York State Correctional Officers flanked him, overseen by the county sheriff and a deputy for good measure. A tear ran down her face and Josh squeezed her hand he held in her lap. Letting him take her hand had seemed so natural, even though she was trying to discourage anything personal between them unless he could come to terms with his father.

  Pastor Connor finished the service with the twenty-third Psalm. “Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

  The man and the boys stepped forward, and Connor handed Owen and his brother each a white rose. They let go of their father’s hands, took the roses and placed them on their mother’s grave. Their father dropped to his knees. The correctional officers lurched toward him, and the sheriff and his deputy rose from their folding chairs. Connor waved them back as the man rested his hands and forehead on his wife’s casket.

  “He’s not going anywhere,” Connor said.

  The officers allowed him his grief. Rhys Maddox straightened and hugged his boys to him before standing and allowing the officers to lead him away.

  “Those poor babies,” a woman behind Tessa and Josh said.

  “That poor man,” Josh said for Tessa’s ears only. “I’m glad Connor was able to help Jack and Suzi get permission for him to come.”

  “Me, too.” Tessa unwrapped her hand from Josh’s and wiped another tear from her cheek. “Are you coming back to the church? The ladies’ group is having a light lunch, as they usually do for the families. Or do you have to go in to work?” She reached for her purse on the ground beside her seat.

  “I took the whole day off. I need to be there for Owen. He’s my little buddy. I hope they put the guy who did this to him behind bars for a good long tim
e.”

  The intensity of Josh’s words chilled her.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Let’s leave the judgment to God.”

  “You’re right.” He stood and looked into the distance. “I thought I’d stain the new floor at the Majestic this afternoon, since I have the time. It’ll make up for tomorrow afternoon, when I told Owen I’d help him finish his race car. Want to help me?” he asked, focusing back on her.

  The uncertainty in his eyes undid her. “Sure.” It was business. “I didn’t know you and Myles finished the new floor.”

  “Yeah, we worked late last night. It looks great, if I do say so myself.”

  “I wouldn’t expect any less.” She and Josh followed the other mourners to the church.

  “What do you think will happen to Owen and his brother?” Josh asked.

  “Suzi says for now, they’ll stay with her and Jack. Their father has an appeal coming up. Evidently, there’s some new evidence about the robbery.”

  “So that’s what he’s serving time for. I didn’t know.”

  She touched his arm. “But don’t say anything to Owen. The counselor the boys are seeing thinks it’s best not to get their hopes up about the possibility of their father being released early.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  She did. Despite Josh’s protests that he didn’t know anything about kids, she knew he wouldn’t do something he thought might hurt Owen.

  “I have enough experience having fatherly expectations dashed. I certainly wouldn’t get Owen’s hopes up about his father unless it was a done deal.”

  “Sit,” she said, pointing at the block and stone wall around the Memory Garden on the church side of the cemetery. The funeral had catapulted her seesawing emotions about Josh and her and his father into a tailspin. “I’ve had all the ‘poor little Josh’ I can take.”

  He had the grace to look chagrined. They sat on the wall and waited for the people who’d been walking the path behind them to pass.

  “I meant it when I said I’d try with Dad, try to forgive him. Maybe I should have gone to the meeting last night.” His gaze searched hers. “But I like the Saturday night one better.”

  “I’m not counting your meetings or approving your choices. That’s your journey,” she said.

  “You’re not going to give me any slack, are you?”

  “How much slack have you given your father?” Tessa bit her tongue, expecting him to get up and leave. No, go inside. Josh wouldn’t leave without seeing Owen.

  Josh rubbed his face with his palms and released a harsh laugh. “Monday night Owen shared some advice from his mother. He told me I should try being positive and encouraging to my father.” The vulnerability in his expression when he raised his head stopped her questions before she could ask them.

  “He got to talking about his father being gone and my father being gone.” Josh rambled on as if he had to get the words out or explode. “I remembered a good time I’d had with Dad working on a birdhouse, like Owen and I were working on his derby car. I was feeling good until I remembered the ugly corollary to the good time.” He told her about his father destroying the birdhouse.

  “That’s harsh. But you aren’t the only one who’s had disappointments.”

  “I know that.”

  Tessa took another plunge. She had to if she and Josh were ever going to have the future she was beginning to think they could have. “You know that rationally. But emotionally, you’ve collected all those disappointments into a big pile that you hide behind. In front is the ‘show’ Josh you let people see and in back is the real Josh. Know which one I like?”

  “The one in the back.”

  “Both, if you’d clear out the garbage in between.”

  “Then you’d like me twice as much?” He grinned.

  She slugged his shoulder. “I’m serious. Read your Al-Anon literature. Pray. Start clearing out the garbage.”

  “You’re a good friend and I don’t want to lose you,” Josh said. “But I don’t know if I can throw off the compulsion to protect what’s good in my life...” He shook his head and dropped his chin to his chest. “To protect you from my father. I couldn’t live with him ruining you, like he’s ruined so many other things I’ve wanted.”

  Josh’s words warmed her with the hope he wanted their friendship enough to forgive his father and allow himself some faith in Jerry’s recovery—and not just hers. Because he’d never seen her drink, drunk, didn’t mean she was any better than his father was. She cleared her throat. “We’re the only ones who can ruin our friendship. And I have no plans to.”

  “So you wouldn’t be averse to my sticking around Paradox Lake?” he asked.

  Her pulse ticked up. “What do you mean?”

  “There may be an opening for a project manager at the Ticonderoga office. No details yet.” He pushed off the wall. “All this talking has me hungry. We’d better get inside before all the food is gone.”

  She slid to her feet. No, despite her remaining uncertainties about Josh being willing to accept his father and fully accept who she really was, she didn’t mind him sticking around for a while. She gazed through her lashes at him standing straight and tall like the soldier, protector, he’d been and still was, waiting for her. She touched her finger to her lips. The truth be known, she wouldn’t mind another one of his kisses, either.

  * * *

  “No meeting tonight?” her grandmother asked when Tessa entered the living room and sat to watch the news with her.

  Tessa bristled. First, Josh’s concern about his father hurting her, endangering her sobriety. Now her grandmother was counting how many times Tessa went to meetings? Since Tessa had come out of rehab more than five years ago, her grandmother had taken Tessa’s direction and been hands-off about her recovery. Why the concern now? She’d thought she’d been keeping things together pretty well, considering the turmoil of the past week, especially when it came to Josh.

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” her grandmother said. “I’m set in my routines and not used to you being here Thursday nights. You’re usually either at the singles group or AA.”

  Tessa’s shoulders sagged. Grandma wasn’t prying. She was making conversation. “It’s Josh,” she blurted. What was she thinking? This was her grandmother. Who talked about their love life with their grandmother? How sad was she that she didn’t have a girlfriend she felt close enough to confide in? But she did. Her sponsor, Maura. But Maura couldn’t answer the questions that had taken Tessa’s thoughts hostage. Only someone who’d been in Josh’s situation could, someone with an alcoholic family member.

  Her grandmother patted her knee. “You two seemed to be getting along at Harry’s birthday party.”

  Tessa straightened and scraped one thumbnail against the edge of the other. “I think I may want more than getting along.”

  “About time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been friends for how long, five years?”

  “About that.”

  “And when was the last time either of you went out with anyone else?”

  Tessa tilted her head and thought. Josh hadn’t really seen anyone since he broke up with Lexi last summer. And, not counting her no-show blind date for the Resurrection Light concert, she didn’t know when she’d last gone on a date. “A while.”

  “Why would I be surprised that you two have feelings for each other?”

  “I don’t know that Josh does beyond friendship.” She remembered the sweet kiss they’d shared. But that might have been Josh being Josh.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not watching.”

  Her heart skittered and slammed into her internal wall. “Before we can move beyond being friends, we have to get back to being friends.” She hesitated
. “I told him I’m an alcoholic.” Tessa replayed that night for her grandmother, Josh seeing her leaving the AA meeting with Maura and Josh’s father when he walked out of the Al-Anon meeting and what happened when they’d talked afterward.

  Her grandmother bit her lip, as if stopping herself from speaking. A couple of years ago she’d told Tessa that she should be straight with Josh. But only that once.

  “When we talked again at Harry’s birthday party, Josh didn’t really believe what I’d said, that I was like his father. He’d never seen me drink, let alone drunk. Josh has to accept that I am like his father and his father is like me. We both want to stay sober. But no one but us can guarantee we will. I can’t let Josh into my heart any more than I already have until I’m sure he accepts me for who I am and his father for who he is now.”

  Her grandmother opened her arms and Tessa sank into her hug. “Josh isn’t your former fiancé,” her grandmother said. “I watched him grow up. He’s a much bigger man.”

  “I know.” Tessa drew back. What she couldn’t trust was that he was big enough to fully accept everything and commit himself to their relationship. “How did you accept me when I was such a broken mess? You and Grandpa must have been disappointed in me. I know Mom and Dad were. I just couldn’t pull myself together.”

  Her grandmother’s lips thinned. “But you did pull yourself together, even if it wasn’t the way your parents expected you to, and you’ve moved forward.”

  “With a lot of help from Maura and the others and the former Hazardtown Community pastor. But you didn’t answer my question about how.” Knowing that might help her open Josh’s eyes to remembering the father of his early years, the father he’d once loved, and she was certain still did.

  “We prayed and did our best to love you unconditionally as our Lord does and put you in His hands. It wasn’t easy. It was heartbreaking at times to watch you fall. But each time, we prayed ourselves out of stepping in and enabling you or losing faith that He’d guide you.”