by Marin Thomas
“Needs a coat of paint, which the boys can do.”
Right then a convoy of pickups pulled into the yard and Will’s brothers piled out of their vehicles.
“Heard we were having a barbecue this afternoon,” Mack said.
Porter waved. “Johnny and Shannon will be here later.”
“Looks like you guys got Isi’s message.” Conway approached the group.
This was the first Will had heard about a family barbecue. His brothers gathered in front of the doghouse. “I don’t know if you’ve met my brothers....”
“If I have, it’s been a while,” the pastor said.
Conway held out his hand. “I’m Conway.”
Porter and Mack shook hands with the pastor, then a stilted silence settled over the group.
“Let’s fire up the grill,” Conway said.
His brothers walked off and when Mack spoke, Porter laughed then Conway took a swing at Porter, which led to a scuffle before they disappeared from sight.
“Your brothers get along well,” the pastor said.
“We may all have different fathers, but you won’t find a tighter-knit group than the Cash brothers.” As soon as he said the words an image of Buck popped into his mind. Some brother Will was—banishing Buck from the family fold.
* * *
MARSHA SAT AT the picnic table in the backyard, listening to her father sing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” while Mack strummed his guitar. Will, Porter, Conway and their brother-in-law, Gavin, threw the football to each other while Ryan sat on the porch reading to the twins on his Kindle. Marsha couldn’t tell Javier and Miguel apart but one of them appeared fascinated by the e-reader and the other’s attention kept wandering to his uncles. Bandit slept in the shade beneath the picnic table where the women sat and Dixie pushed her sleeping son, Nate, in the baby swing.
Everyone was accounted for except Buck and Marsha was surprised he hadn’t come to the picnic. Was he angry she hadn’t told Will about Ryan when he’d guessed the truth over a year ago?
“It’s too bad your mother couldn’t join us,” Isi said, during a lull in conversation.
“She would have enjoyed meeting all of you.” Marsha nodded to the baby. “Especially little Nate.”
“Is she not feeling well?” Shannon asked.
“My mother plays bridge on Saturday afternoons with a group of ladies from the church.” Marsha smiled when Mack switched to a jumpy tune and her father clapped his hands along with the music. “Mack has won my father over with his guitar playing.”
“Mack wins everyone over with his talent,” Dixie said.
Shannon rubbed her belly and winced.
“What’s wrong?” Dixie asked.
“I’m uncomfortable. This baby can’t arrive soon enough.”
“When are you due?” Marsha asked.
“Yesterday.”
Marsha winced. “I was two weeks overdue with Ryan.”
“Must have been difficult going through a pregnancy alone,” Dixie said. The tone of her voice sounded innocent enough, but the steely light in her gaze said she wasn’t happy that Marsha had kept Ryan away from their family.
No matter how Marsha bent her rationale to fit her actions, she couldn’t deny how unfair she’d been to Will. He might have screwed up, but he’d been young and as frightened as her when she’d found out she was pregnant. Yes, he’d admitted he didn’t want a baby, but in the end, she was the one who hadn’t told him that she was keeping their child.
“Ryan seems like a nice boy,” Isi said. “The twins love him.”
The compliments made Marsha feel even worse.
“When Conway gave Bandit to the boys, I thought our family was set, but Javier accosted me in the kitchen earlier and said he wants a big brother.”
“From now on Ryan will be their big brother.” Dixie placed a tray of fresh veggies between the women.
“I heard you opened a gift shop in Yuma,” Marsha said.
“Dixie’s Desert Delights,” Dixie said. “I sell homemade bath soaps and other girlie stuff.”
“You should stop in,” Shannon said. “The soap recipes belong to Grandma Ada’s family.”
“How interesting.” Marsha realized how little she knew about Will’s family.
“Isi emigrated from Buenos Aires when she was eighteen,” Dixie said.
“Really? Three years ago I took a group of physics students to the World Science Fair there. I thought Buenos Aires was such a romantic city with its European architecture and theaters.”
“I rarely saw the nice areas of the city,” Isi said. “I grew up in La Boca. My mother’s great-grandparents emigrated from Spain to Argentina. My father’s relatives are native Argentineans.”
“Will said you’re a teacher.” Dixie spoke to Marsha.
“I teach high-school chemistry. This summer I’m tutoring physics students online for the University of California, Los Angeles.”
“You must have gotten your master’s degree then?” Isi asked.
Marsha didn’t bother adding that she’d also earned a doctoral degree.
Isi rolled her eyes. “And here I was proud of myself for earning an AA degree from the community college.”
“Is it true that Conway took over the pecan farm?” Marsha asked.
Dixie laughed. “Who would have believed the local Casanova had a love for tractors and pecan trees.”
“Hey, ladies!” Porter yelled. “Bring your plates over here. The burgers are done.”
“I’ll get your food, Dad.” Marsha stopped next to his chair.
“I may be old, daughter, but I can carry a paper plate.”
Properly chastened, Marsha waited for him to stand, then walked with him to the grill. When he stumbled, Mack stepped forward and steadied him.
“Whoa, there, cowboy. Are you sure you didn’t drink that beer Will offered you?” Mack asked.
Her father chuckled. “You Cash boys always were smart-alecky.”
The comment kicked off a half hour of Cash brother good-old-days stories. As she listened to the men talk, her eyes strayed to Will, who stood in front of the porch. He spoke to the twins and they laughed. Ryan ignored him. Marsha hoped the others hadn’t noticed her son’s rudeness. When Will joined his brothers by the grill, Marsha sat on the porch steps with the boys. “Bandit has a pretty nice doghouse, don’t you think?”
“Uncle Will’s the best builder in the whole world,” Miguel said.
Marsha glanced at Ryan to gauge his reaction but he focused on his food.
Javier patted Marsha’s leg to get her attention. “And my dad’s the best farmer in the whole world.”
“He’s my dad, too.” Miguel nudged his brother, and Javier’s plate almost tumbled to the ground.
“Hey, fighting’s not cool,” Ryan said.
The twins gaped at their older cousin then Miguel mumbled, “Sorry.”
Javier shrugged. “That’s okay.”
Marsha caught Ryan smiling at the boys and she sensed that he liked being idolized by the twins. Her son hadn’t helped Will build the doghouse, but the day had gone better than she’d expected. She listened to the twins tell the story of how Conway used to be their babysitter before he became their father and the love in their voices gave Marsha hope that Ryan and Will would find their way as father and son, too.
“Care to go for a walk?” Will asked when he approached the porch.
Miguel set his plate aside and stood. “Where are we goin’, Uncle Will?”
“Not you, Mig,” Ryan said. “He’s asking my mom to go for a walk.”
“Oh.” Miguel sat down and shoveled a forkful of baked beans into his mouth.
“You’re welcome to come, too, Ryan...if you want,” Will said.
Javier nudged Ryan’s leg. “Stay here.”
“Looks like you’ve got a new fan club,” Will said.
“Ryan’s a good reader, Uncle Will.” Javier smiled at his cousin. “He’s reading us Harry Potter on his computer.”
“It’s an e-reader,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, his e-reader,” Javier repeated.
“I’ll stay,” Ryan said.
As Marsha left the backyard with Will she caught her father watching them. She expected he’d have a lot to say after spending the day at the Cash farm.
Chapter Seven
Once Marsha and Will were out of view of their families, she asked, “Are you upset about today?”
“What do you mean?”
“You got stuck building the doghouse by yourself and my father tagged along for the day.” She smiled. “Feel free to vent.”
Will stopped walking. “Am I free to vent or will whatever I say about Ryan and your father be used against me?”
“Did something happen today that I don’t know about?”
He opened his mouth then snapped it shut. “You want to see the pond or not?”
She clutched his shirtsleeve, before he took a step. “Wait.” His muscles tensed, but he didn’t pull away. “I want this to work out for you and Ryan.”
“Do you?”
She bristled but held her tongue.
“Or are you hoping I’ll make mistakes, so Ryan will want nothing to do with me?”
“I can’t believe you’d think that.”
“Why not? If things don’t work out for me and Ryan, you head back to California with a clear conscience.”
The brown eyes staring at her were filled with pain and shame swept through Marsha. She expected that this father-son reunion would be difficult, but her main concern had been for Ryan’s emotional well-being. She hadn’t given much thought to the turmoil Will might be feeling. “I’ll do everything in my power to help you both, but you’ll have to communicate with me. I can’t read your mind.”
Will stared into space. “We’re strangers who made a baby.”
“Then why don’t we get reacquainted,” she said.
His rigid posture relaxed. “We’re pouring the cement slab for the classroom hallway Wednesday afternoon and Ben and I had planned to take Thursday off while the cement dries.”
“I’m free after 10:00 a.m.”
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“Surprise me.” Marsha followed Will past the barn and down the path that led to a pond. “This is nice.” A pecan tree next to the water provided shade from the sun. “Did you build the pier?”
Will nodded. “Conway wanted to teach the twins how to swim and dive.”
“The water’s deep enough for diving?”
“Yep, and it’s stocked with carp and catfish.”
Marsha yearned to sit beneath the tree with Will—the young girl who’d been infatuated with the bad boy would love to taste his kiss again. “I’d better take my father home. It’s been a long day for him.”
Will’s gaze mesmerized Marsha and she couldn’t have moved her feet if she’d wanted to. His brown eyes warmed as he zeroed in on her lips—maybe she’d get her wish after all and Will would kiss her.
No such luck. He spun and led the way back to the house.
Marsha walked at his side, noticing how careful he was not to brush against her. “Where was Buck today?” she asked.
Will’s step faltered. “He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“He left town.”
His curt answer surprised her. “Did Buck say when he’d return?”
The barn came into view and Will slowed his steps. “Buck and I had words. We both needed time to cool off.”
The Buck she knew never instigated an argument. “Words about what?”
“Leave it alone, Marsha.”
Great. Will and Buck had quarreled over her and Ryan. Her decision to keep Ryan a secret for so long was causing more collateral damage than she could have ever imagined.
* * *
MARSHA STARED AT her outfit in the mirror attached to the back of the bedroom door—a yellow sundress with strappy white sandals. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d preened in front of the same mirror, wearing a prom dress and imagining Will kissing her good-night. A tender ache spread through her chest when she thought of what she and Will had done in his grandfather’s pickup.
“Honey, Will’s here.” Her mother opened Marsha’s door and poked her head inside the room. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” Marsha removed a white cardigan sweater from the closet—in case Will liked to blast the air-conditioning in his truck. “Did Dad grumble about me going off with Will today?” Strangely enough her father hadn’t uttered one negative comment about the Cash family after spending the previous Saturday at their farm.
“No, but he did tell me how much he enjoyed getting to know Will’s family.”
“Really? He said that?”
“Not in those exact words.” Her mother smiled. “He said things like... ‘Conway’s sons are cute little buggers’. And ‘Mack’s voice sure is easy on the ears. He should sing in our church choir’.”
“What did he say about Will?”
“Nothing, but Ryan mentioned that Will built the doghouse in record time.”
Not much of a compliment as far as Marsha was concerned. Hopefully that would change after father and son became more comfortable with each other.
“Remind me again why you and Will are going out?” her mother said.
Her parents were protective of her—especially her father. He feared she’d slip under Will’s spell again. She wished she could reassure him she wouldn’t, but Will still possessed his bad-boy aura from high school and her heart raced whenever he looked at her. “Will has a lot of questions about Ryan.”
“Will’s a handsome man and you’re both young. Sharing a child is a strong bond.”
Marsha sat on the bed and patted the mattress beside her. Once her mother joined her, she said, “I know you think I’ll get my heart broken again.”
“Did Will break your heart all those years ago?”
“Yes, but in his defense, he never led me on. I’d had a crush on him my senior year.” And up until today.... “I haven’t gone on a date in forever, Mom.”
“Is this a real date?”
Marsha’s emotional side hoped so—her intellectual side...not so much. “I’m not sure.”
“What do you have in common with Will besides...” Her mother’s cheeks turned pink.
“Why all these questions, Mom?”
“I’ve never spoken about this—not even to your father.” She wrung her hands. “The reason you were adopted is because I couldn’t have children.”
What did this have to do with her and Will? “I assumed it was either you or Dad who was sterile.”
“I wasn’t always sterile, honey.”
“What happened?”
“I became pregnant when I was fifteen.”
Marsha swallowed a gasp.
“I was too terrified to tell my parents, because the young man who got me pregnant was a deacon in the church.” She sniffed. “He was handsome and outside of church he ran with a wild crowd like Will. I believed I could change him.”
Like Marsha had thought she could change Will. “Did you love him?”
“I did.”
“What happened to the baby?”
Tears glistened in her mother’s eyes. “The deacon gave me the number of a doctor who’d take care of me. He said if I really loved him I’d abort the baby.”
“But abortion was illegal in the 1950s.” Never mind that Will waited outside for her, Marsha wasn’t budging unti
l her mother finished her story. “What happened?”
“I called the number and spoke to a woman who arranged for a car to pick me up on the corner of Euclid and Downing. A mile from my family’s apartment. When I got in the car I was told to put on a blindfold. A half hour later the car parked in the driveway of a ranch-style home. I had no idea where we were, but I believe it was the doctor’s private residence.”
Marsha was horrified her mother had gone alone to get an abortion.
“I was ushered inside, told to take off my panties and get up on the kitchen table, which had been covered with a white sheet.”
A lump formed in Marsha’s throat and she squeezed her mother’s hand.
“It was over in a matter of minutes. He told me to get dressed and that I would start bleeding in a day or two and the cramping would be painful.”
“Then the driver dropped you off where he’d picked you up,” Marsha said.
“Yes.”
“How much did the doctor charge you?”
“A hundred dollars.”
A hundred dollars in the ’50s had been a fortune. “Where did you get that kind of money?”
Her mother’s face burned red. “The deacon stole the money from the donation plates in church.”
Good Lord.
“I repaid that money. I spent an entire year babysitting and cleaning homes, but the church got every penny back.” She wiped a tear. “That was the least of my problems. I started bleeding like the doctor said I would, but it didn’t stop. My mother became fearful. She took me to the doctor and he’d known right away what I’d done. As I healed, I developed too much scar tissue to become pregnant.”
Marsha’s heart ached for her mother. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I found out I was pregnant.”
“I’m not angry about that, honey. When you’d told us about Ryan after he’d been born, I confess that I felt a huge sense of relief that I didn’t know beforehand.”
“Why?”
“Because I believe the news would have opened the door to feelings I’d locked away deep inside me and I would have felt the need to confess my past sins to your father.”
“Dad doesn’t know why you couldn’t become pregnant?”