All those memories chewed away at Tuck now. How could he have thought he deserved to raise a child he’d never wanted to be born? The pregnancy had been a dangerous one, just as the doctor said it would be because of Sharon’s malnourishment. Cocaine had become her drug of choice, and the risks to an addicted mother included heart attack, seizure, and stroke. The doctor had warned she might not survive. The risks to the fetus were just as dangerous. But she’d refused to abort the child.
In the two years they’d gotten to know baby Rave, they’d loved him more than life. It was when Sharon nearly died from the overdose that Tuck knew he had to step in. But for all his good intentions to do what was best for two-year-old Rave, Tuck had forced Sharon’s hand. And because Tuck had, Millie died with a broken heart, never knowing what had become of her daughter and grandson.
Tuck placed the albums in a stack and carried them back to the sitting room. He closed the lid on the box where they lived. He was too tired to approach this subject today. Soon. Soon, he’d tell Rave everything. And he couldn’t wait too long, because Tuck knew time was running out for him.
Rave had expected a more presidential office for the town’s mayor. He’d never been in a mayor’s office before, but he had envisioned a palatial room with a sturdy mahogany desk and thick-framed licenses and diplomas.
This room was on the smallish side and spartan. One desk, a row of filing cabinets, an American flag in the corner, a few family photos. The desk was littered with papers and manila folders. One window looked out over town.
The assistant outside had instructed them to have a seat, but Rave crossed the room and stared out the window. Below, the courtyard was a bustle of busy townspeople. It was different from the weekends, though. Local traffic, not the visitors drawn by the swap meet.
Off in the distance, Rave noticed the place where dreams die and wondered if his gaze trailing there was a bad omen. This felt like an insurmountable task. Would the mayor even want a monument or a plaque at the edge of town? They’d shut out an entire factory. Why would they listen to one street kid who wanted to honor his grandfather?
Behind him, he heard Becca stand and the swoosh of someone coming into the room. Rave turned as she introduced herself. “I’m Mayor Calloway.” Brisk steps brought her to Rave’s feet. Her hand was outstretched, her white shirt peeking from beneath a red blazer. She was around forty and attractive, and tall heels highlighted a set of slender legs beneath her knee-length black skirt.
Rave shook her hand. “Rave Wayne, Miss Mayor. Or is it Mrs.? Or—”
She grinned and pumped his hand. “Madame Mayor is proper, but you can also call me Mayor Calloway.”
Mayor Calloway faced Becca. “It’s nice to see you, Rebecca. I’ve missed our chats.”
Becca hugged her and turned to Rave. “I did a job shadow for school here. Municipal work is actually pretty cool.”
Mayor Calloway motioned for them to sit down. “Well, I’ve never been interested in taking my politics to the next level, but I adore being part of my local government. Becca was a natural fit here. I hated for the job shadow to end.”
Rave looked over and gave Becca a smile.
“My assistant briefed me on your thoughts and concerns. From what I understand, you’d like to see a commemorative plaque honoring our Firstborn Miracle Town veterans. Is that right?”
Becca looked at Rave to answer. But instead of speaking, he rose and walked back to the window where he could see the town. The flowering trees, the courtyard, the square. “No, ma’am.” The problem was, all too often he spoke without thinking. In fact, he’d made a career of it. The germ of an idea had been planted when he first glanced out this window. Instead of dying—like any ridiculous idea should—it had taken root. Then, with no encouragement from him, it had quickly grown with grander thoughts watering it, making it expand.
Becca stood and moved to Rave. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Rave? What do you mean, no? This is why we came here.”
Ideas were dangerous things. They crashed through good intentions and common sense. Passion lit his words when he said, “Bec. It’s not enough.” His brow furrowed, his hand touched her arm. “Don’t you see? It’s not enough.” His voice was soft, far away, but it held the power of perfectly placed bombs.
The atmosphere in the room changed. The mayor slowly rose to her feet, her eyes ablaze with curiosity about what manner of thing could cause a young man practically to burst with desperation.
“This town is full of veterans, Madame Mayor.” He’d made a choice to call her by her proper name—and he watched the admission flicker in her eyes. She knew he meant business. “Look out there. How many families were touched by the Firstborn during World War Two? How many veterans are walking your streets today who put their lives on the line for our freedom? Madame Mayor, two Saturday nights a month, I sit with my grandfather at his dining table while he honors the men who died in Vietnam. And Tuck’s—” He had to swallow before he could finish. “Tuck’s dying now. Who’ll honor the men? Why haven’t we honored them already?”
The mayor’s eyes glistened. “What do you have in mind, young man?”
He reached over and took Becca’s hand because he’d gone rogue on her, and that wasn’t fair. Still, she couldn’t escape all the blame. She was the one who’d given him the strength to do this. “The place where dreams die.”
The mayor frowned and looked at Becca for an explanation.
Becca sucked in a breath. “The park. A memorial park for our veterans.”
Mayor Calloway crossed her arms over her chest. “The park on Tenth Street?”
Becca squeezed Rave’s hand, excitement flying off her in waves. “Yes, ma’am. It’s owned by the city. And no one is using it.”
Mayor Calloway’s eyes narrowed, her sharp mind visibly clicking off ideas. “How committed to this are you two? Because this would be a huge undertaking. The town of Barton doesn’t have the staff to accomplish it.”
Becca took a step toward the mayor. “What about a committee? Couldn’t you call for a volunteer committee? We could get donations to help with the cost.”
Mayor Calloway nodded. “I can present your suggestion to the council. At the end of the day, they would say yes or no.”
Rave couldn’t help but notice the minuscule smile on the mayor’s face. “But you’re on board with this idea, right? We have your support?”
She considered him. “Yes, Rave. You have my support. It’s time we had a place to commemorate our men and women who died in combat.”
His cheeks burned. “Yes, ma’am. I didn’t mean any disrespect. It’s just that Tuck talks about the men who were with him. That’s the only reference I have to work from.”
She tilted her head. “Forgiven.”
Rave rubbed his hands against the thighs of his pants. “So, you’ll talk to the council? We don’t need to do a presentation or anything?”
Her gaze narrowed on him again. “Have you ever considered politics? I think you’d be a natural.”
“Not even for a second.” Rave tried to swallow, but his collar was choking him. Or maybe that was fear.
The mayor crossed her arms. “Well, you’ll get a taste. No, I don’t need you to address the city council . . . unless you want to.”
“No thanks. I’m nervous enough just being in your office.”
She chuckled. “You have my support, Rave, as long as you’re both willing to be on the committee.”
His hand grew sweaty in Becca’s. “What? No one wants to listen to a couple of kids.” And though Rave didn’t consider himself a kid, he knew people like Mayor Calloway did.
“That’s my final offer,” she said, then sat down.
Rave and Becca looked at each other.
Mayor Calloway continued. “You’re the ones with the vision for this, so you need to see it through. Also, you might talk to Pastor Keith about volunteering for the committee. That’s if the city council agrees to the restoration of the park.”
Becca sat down. “Pastor Keith lost a brother in Afghanistan, didn’t he? My dad told me that.”
Mayor Calloway nodded. “He’s expressed an interest in doing something for our local veterans. He made a point to speak with me just a few days ago. I even asked him why now. He said he’d had a nice chat with Tuck Wayne at church a few Sundays back. He mentioned something about whiskey and a memorial. I don’t know how the whiskey fits into all this, but it would seem our good pastor has a soft spot in his heart for the veterans. My guess would be that his conversation with Tuck stirred up that burden.”
Rave sat down, mostly because he was the only one still standing, but a little bit because his knees were weak. Someone was watching out for them, plowing the ground before they ever planted a seed. “Do you really think we could do this?”
The mayor nodded. “I really do. You’ll need the town’s support, no question. It’ll be a lot of people hours to get this rolling, but yes, Rave. I think you can.”
Two weeks passed before Rave got word that the city council was willing to consider handing over operations of the park if a suitable volunteer committee emerged and had the means to care for the park. By suitable, he figured they meant more people than two twenty-somethings with an idea. They’d talked to Pastor Keith, who said he’d spread the word to some of the men and women in town he knew would be interested. By the time Rave was able to meet the city council members, he had a list of a dozen businessmen and -women who believed in the project. For now, he was keeping it from Tuck, but once it went public, he’d have to tell him. The only reason he was waiting was because he’d started sketching ideas in a notebook, and he wanted to have something concrete to show his grandfather when the time was right. Tuck had good days and bad days now, thanks in part to a new medication the doctor was trying on him. Sometimes he had energy, and sometimes he stayed on the couch watching old Westerns. When they finally found the right combination of medications and the right dosage, Tuck’s energy began to return.
They’d settled into a nice routine of early dinner and spending time in the kitchen talking about everything and nothing. Becca came by whenever she wasn’t working, and the three of them would swap stories and laugh until they cried. Sometimes, Tuck would ask why Rave didn’t spend more time with Becca. Rave would wink and say, “Priorities, Tuck. Got to keep my priorities in order.”
But Becca had become a constant in Rave’s life. Though Tuck didn’t realize it, once he was asleep, Rave and Becca spent long evenings on the front porch listening to the crickets or sitting on the back patio looking out over the lake. Sometimes they’d talk, sometimes they merely sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms. They’d also gone out on a few dates, which was nice, but Tuck was always in the back of Rave’s mind. He didn’t know how long they had. And Tuck had spent enough time alone before Rave came to Barton.
Friday morning, Tuck and Rave had just launched into a conversation about spaghetti Westerns when Rave heard the knock on the front door. He told Tuck he’d get it. On his way, as he passed through the living room, he counted off the items in his head for today’s swap meet. Everything was loaded in the truck. When he tugged the door open, his heart stammered to a stop. His gaze landed on her first—the long blonde hair, pushed forward by the summer wind, the hopeful eyes. Beside her, the little boy Rave adored. “Ashley? Daniel?”
He leaped into Rave’s arms, a squeal ripping through the air and settling in Rave’s ears.
“What—what are you guys doing here?” Rave hugged Daniel so hard, he feared he’d hurt him. But Daniel only nuzzled closer, wrapping his arms around Rave’s neck and blowing little-boy puffs of air on his throat. Emotions surged, and Rave squeezed his eyes shut, hoping, praying that he wasn’t dreaming. He’d had too many dreams lately where what he loved slipped silently through his fingers.
When he finally opened his eyes, Daniel lost interest in him and reached down for Bullet. The boy turned into squirming knees and elbows to get out of Rave’s grasp and introduce himself to the dog who weighed half as much as Rave himself.
Ashley’s hands were crossed in tentative fashion over the waist of her beige summer dress. It was one of Rave’s favorites on her, and he had to consider the irony of her now standing at his door in a garment he used to love to try to get her out of.
His eyes met hers, and she smiled. Sweet, innocent. Two things she wasn’t.
“Can we come in?” she asked.
Daniel was already in. Flat on his back and getting a tongue bath from Bullet. Deep belly laughs rumbled from him, causing both Rave and Ashley to watch. Was there anything happier than a child with a dog?
“Yeah.” Rave motioned for her to come inside just as Tuck came out of the kitchen.
“Truck’s ready. Who was at the—” But Tuck looked up and saw them standing there, and he stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh.”
Rave tried to breathe, but the air had gone stale. “Tuck, this is Ashley and Daniel.”
“Nice to meet you, Ashley. Rave’s told me a lot about you.”
She smiled, blinked several times, looking angelic behind those dazzling blue eyes, her oval face filled with hope. Show. This was a show, and Tuck was the audience. “Your home is lovely.”
Tuck’s brows rose slowly. “You think?”
Oh, come on, Tuck. Don’t fall for this.
“Yes, I do.” She took a tiny step forward.
Tuck grinned. “In that case, I won’t hold your bad judgment against you.”
Rave bit his cheeks.
Ashley visibly stiffened.
Tuck was no one’s fool. “Well, I’m sure you have a lot to talk about. I’ll head on over to the swap meet. If I don’t see you there, Rave, we’ll catch up later.”
Concern pinched Rave’s gut. “Tuck, you can’t unload everything by yourself.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll get Buck and Rowdy to help me. Like as not, they’ll be hanging around waiting to talk to you. Take your time.”
Rave nodded. Tuck left. The air was thick. Thick and muggy for June and still surging through the open door. He motioned for Ashley to follow him, and they sat on the couch. Rave’s system boiled with questions. But he’d be patient. He’d see just how she planned to let this play out.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she said.
“I’m uh—surprised to see you.” Rave clenched his hands on his lap, an attempt to squelch the jitters that racked his system. As happy as he was to see Daniel, the boy and his mother were a package deal.
Ashley scooted closer to him and touched his leg. Her hand lingered, and he ignored the sensation it sent through him. And the longing. “Rave, you need to be in Daniel’s life. You’re such an important part of it.”
He bit into his tongue until he tasted blood, willing her hand to move off him. “Really? Because it seemed pretty easy for you to replace me with Barry.”
She jerked away from him. “I should have listened to you about him. But I told you, we’re done. I knew—I knew—the day he refused to help with the bills that we couldn’t count on him. He took the paternity test, and he’s not Daniel’s father. Daniel deserves better than that, Rave. We deserve someone who won’t let us down.”
He deserves better quickly became we deserve someone. “So, you and Barry broke up?”
She flashed a frown. “Yes. Weeks ago. I told you that when you sent me the money for rent.”
Rave bristled. A sudden rush of anger drove him off the couch. Bullet noticed and sat up, but Daniel scrubbed at the dog’s ears, and he turned into a melting ball of fur. Rave turned his fury on Ashley but lowered his voice so Daniel wouldn’t hear. “You’re lying, Ash.”
Her eyes widened. “Rave, listen to me. My sister has taken a job working on a private yacht. Her leaving made me realize how important you are to me. And Lord knows you’re the sun and moon to Daniel. We need you, Rave. I’ve—I’ve come here to stay.”
What? What? As much as he’d love to see Daniel on a daily basis, he wa
sn’t about to move them into Tuck’s house. His thoughts went to Becca. The girl who was everything he’d needed and nothing he’d expected. The room darkened around him to one tiny pinpoint of light. In the center was Ashley. And she was pleading.
“We’ve already rented an apartment downtown. It’s small, a single bedroom, so Daniel doesn’t have his own room, but he said he didn’t care. As long as he could be close to you.”
Rave’s heart might as well be ripped right from his chest.
Ashley moved close to Rave. She whispered, “He’s started referring to you as Dad.”
Rave spun on her with anger that was clouded by the love he felt for Daniel. As if on cue, Daniel threw his arms around Bullet and uttered, “Dad, Dad, Dad.”
Rave pulled a deep breath. “You moved here?”
“We got in yesterday. I wanted to surprise you. I’ve already got a job at the café, Vernie’s? It’s on Main.”
Frustration caused his eyes to close. “Yeah, I know where it is.”
“Anyway, I was hoping you could keep Daniel during my shifts. You know, like old times?”
Keep Daniel. Rave’s gaze went to the beautiful little boy rolling on the floor with Bullet. Keep Daniel. The desire to maintain a relationship with the little boy he loved overwhelmed his senses. There’d been a Daniel-shaped hole in Rave’s life. He couldn’t deny that.
Ashley must have known he was softening. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. He remained stiff, motionless. Moments ticked past, Rave trying, trying to make sense of all of this, Ashley desperate for him to just give in.
“I’m sorry about the Dad thing,” she whispered, scooting her agile, soft body against his stern one. “I’ve told him not to, but he’d found out that Barry might be his father, and when he did, he came to me and said, ‘Rave is my daddy. Rave. Not Barry.’ He’s called you Daddy ever since.”
The very idea toppled Rave’s equilibrium. There was nothing he’d love more than to be Daniel’s daddy. But he wasn’t. And he never could be. He’d have to go back to being just Rave to the little guy.
Something Like Family Page 15