Love on Mimosa Lane (A Seasons of the Heart Novel)

by Anna DeStefano

Joe squeezed her arm, his rumbling chuckle curling around her heart.

  “You all had better come on inside,” her husband said. “It’s cold enough to catch a chill, especially when you’re sweaty from running around. Been playing a little soccer?”

  Three overheated bodies stumbled into the family room to the right of the door. Fin made a move to fling his filthy self onto Marsha’s slipcovered couch.

  “Do it,” she warned, “only if you plan to stay up the rest of the night pushing the cover through the washer and dryer. In fact, none of you move a muscle until you kick off those grass-covered shoes and leave them on the hardwood.”

  She wasn’t going to ask how Fin and the Beaumonts had ended up playing soccer. No point in looking a gift horse in the mouth. Their shoes off, the three of them stood side by side in front of Marsha and Joe in almost identical stances: legs shoulder width apart, heads down, and hands folded in front of them.

  “This isn’t a firing squad, folks,” Joe said. “Why doesn’t one of you get to the point, so I can salvage a few hours of sleep before I head in to work?”

  It had been years since he’d taken a day’s vacation from his job as a claims adjuster for StaySafe Insurance. Marsha had been after him to make more time for relaxing, but there were always bills to pay, stretching their monthly budget to the max. Her husband was perpetually exhausted. But her Joe would have stayed up with her all night regardless, until they had Fin back.

  “I should have brought him home from the park,” Law started, “as soon as I realized he was there watching me work out…” He glanced at Chloe. A world of worry and pain seemed to settle between them. “But I guess we got carried away. He’s a fine ballplayer. And then my daughter showed up, too…”

  “Chloe wasn’t with you?” Marsha asked. Chloe had been running around town at night also, all by herself?

  Law looked as if he might scream or break down.

  “I wanted to…” Chloe started to say. She cut a look toward her dad, and then at Marsha and Joe. “I just didn’t…”

  Fin rolled his eyes. “It’s no big deal. None of this is a big f-ing deal. Can I go to my room now?”

  “What you can do,” Joe said, “is mind your manners.”

  He never went out of his way to intimidate any of the kids. He didn’t have to. Like Law, Joe was a tall, strong, overpowering man. He was as impressive at sixty as he’d been when Marsha had first caught sight of him at the University of Georgia, when she’d been a freshman her first day on campus. But underneath it all, he was more teddy bear than bulldog.

  “I want you to thank Mr. Beaumont,” Joe continued, “for bringing you home before we had to report you missing to the authorities. Apologize to Marsha for worrying her sick. And then go get washed up and catch a few winks before we haul you into Ms. Hemmings’s office in the morning to see what she wants to do about all of this.”

  Fin opened his mouth. Before something smart-ass could emerge, Joe held up his hand.

  “Do us all a favor,” her husband said. “Don’t make any more trouble for yourself tonight.”

  Fin scowled at Joe, looking for all the world as if he’d prefer to throw a tantrum and run again. But then something miraculous happened. He looked mutinous, but he turned to Marsha.

  “Sorry,” he said. And then to Law, he said, “Thanks for the ride and…you know, for not making me feel stupid when we were playing. You’re…”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” Law said, sparing the boy. “Now let’s see if you can’t find a way to stay here with the Dixons long enough for me to teach you a few new things.”

  Fin looked as stunned as Marsha felt.

  Law was saying exactly what she’d hoped he would when Kristen had first mentioned asking him to help. She watched Fin closely as his shock transformed into excitement. When he just stood there, saying nothing, Joe hitched a thumb over his shoulder.

  “Shower,” her husband said. “Bed. Set your alarm for six, because we’ve got some things to discuss before the three of us leave for school. Now move. I want you under the covers when I check on you in ten minutes. And don’t even think about turning on a bunch of lights and waking the other kids up. You’re already grounded until the end of time. Step out of line one more time, and you’ll be filling the rest of your days here doing everyone else’s chores.”

  Law listened to Joe gently but firmly lay into Fin, and he found himself smiling, despite the terror churning in his own gut. The mouthy kid had said “thank you” and apologized. And now he was heading quietly off to shower, instead of stomping up the stairs and slamming doors the way Law would have when he’d been the same age and in trouble.

  At some point while he and Fin had been messing around with his soccer ball, he’d accepted that Fin was a younger version of himself. Grittier, tougher, and maybe even a little more reckless than Law had been…But Fin felt alone in his world. Law would like to see if he could help change that.

  And like Law, the kid worked double-time to make it clear he didn’t care about anyone or anything. But one thing he couldn’t hide was his passion for soccer. Just like Law. Just like his daughter.

  Chloe...

  When she had run from the thick ring of trees on the south side of the park’s rec field, she’d blown Law’s world apart. She’d called for the ball—which Fin had promptly stolen, because Law had stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his little girl out by herself so late at night. Before he could question her and begin plotting his ex-wife’s demise, Fin had kicked her a leading pass that set the two kids off running together, and Law had been stunned by similarities between them.

  Fin, who said he’d never play with a girl, had begun bickering with Chloe right away, while they ran down the field, and trapped and passed and dodged each other with the ball. They’d seemed so much alike as Law had watched them and eventually led them through more drills, he’d wanted to yell for them to stop. Because if his daughter was like Fin, she was like Law, too, lost and unsure and disconnected from herself in ways he hadn’t wanted to accept.

  Chloe couldn’t really be like that: feeling out of step with everyone and everything around her. Except she’d run from her home and mother in the middle of the night, and he was betting Libby didn’t even realize Chloe was gone.

  God, my life is a disaster…

  Your life just might be starting to get better…

  Chloe glanced up at the same time that he looked down at her, as if she could feel him making the decision he should have made earlier tonight, when he’d instead trusted Libby, again, to do the right thing for their family. Chloe opened her mouth to say something—by the defensive expression creeping across her face, he’d guess some kind of excuse.

  He held up his hand, the way Joe had. He hadn’t pushed her for an explanation, not while they had Fin with them. But Law was about to insist on one. Too much was at stake. He’d let too much slide already, for too long.

  “Wait for me in the truck,” he said.

  “But, Dad—”

  “In the truck. Now. And you’d better be there once I’m done speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Dixon.”

  Her cheeks pink, she dug her hands into her jeans pockets. “I can walk home from here. It’s only like a mile away. I do it all the time at night.”

  I do it all the time at night…

  A panicked rush of adrenaline nearly sent him to his knees. He must have looked as stricken as he felt. Joe squeezed his shoulder.

  Law pulled his cell from his jeans pocket. “If you’re not in the truck when I get out there,” he said to his child, “I’ll have the police looking for you before you get a block away. And then I’ll have them take you home to your mom, to see whether or not she’s even conscious enough to answer the door.”

  It was Chloe’s turn to look scared. She glanced at the Dixons. Law reached out to reassure her that everything was going
to be okay. He had no idea how to make that promise a reality, but he was damn well going to do a better job of it than he had so far. His daughter shied away from his touch.

  “I’ll be in the car.” She yanked the front door open. She slammed it behind her on her way out.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Law said to the Dixons. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

  “Don’t be.” Joe hugged his wife closer. “We’re grateful that Fin found you at the park, and that you got him home.”

  Law nodded.

  “I suppose,” he said, not hiding from the truth any longer, any truth, no matter how difficult, “that you’ve heard about what happened at the bowling center.”

  “A little.” Marsha shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Law. I hope Chloe’s going to be okay.”

  “If there’s anything we can do…” Joe added.

  Law shook his head, prepared to beg off, but then he remembered Kristen making the same offer.

  Good people—he was surrounded by good people who were willing to step in to help him and his child, no matter how much he’d said he didn’t need anyone. Just like his brother had at Pockets, even though Dan had been royally pissed and Law had thrown his brother’s generosity back in his face.

  “I just might take you up on that,” he said to the Dixons, “once I figure out exactly what’s going on, and what to do next. And if you have trouble explaining what happened tonight to the school, I’d be happy to talk to Kristen for you tomorrow.”

  Marsha smiled, her heart-shaped features brightening. “Have you definitely decided to coach next season?”

  Law considered the midnight phone call he was about to make, and the additional conflict it was going to invite into his and Chloe’s life. Then he remembered the joy his daughter had found playing soccer tonight, when for months she’d refused to so much as kick the ball around with him. They’d been a family again, for those few minutes on the park field. She’d been happy with him out there—a lot happier than she’d seemed anywhere else for a long time.

  Just as Kristen had suspected his daughter might be.

  “It means,” he said, “I’m thinking I don’t have any choice but to coach, for Chloe’s sake. And after what I saw tonight, I’d be willing to take Fin on, too, as long as he works on his attitude and makes an effort to get along with the other players. If soccer is what he likes, I’m at the fields most Sundays. Unless I’m totally misreading my daughter, you’ll find Chloe and me there several afternoons a week from here on out, until winter season starts in February. I won’t have details for a while about team registration and tryouts.”

  “Hang on…” Marsha grabbed a pad of scratch paper from the table beside a huge, worn recliner. She handed it over along with the pen that had been lying on top of it. “Give me your phone number. We’ll be in touch once we talk to the school. I can’t tell you how important it is to get Fin to commit to something, anything.”

  “You don’t have to,” Law said. “I understand.” Soccer and music had saved him from making an even bigger mess of his life. He jotted down his cell number. “You’ll be able to reach me here…” He handed back the pad and pen. “It’s my mobile. I’m not sure…I don’t think I’ll be at my apartment much after tonight. Call when Fin’s ready to start. Better yet, just bring him to the park at five on Monday afternoon, after school. Chloe and I should be settled in by then.”

  “He’ll be there,” Joe said, looking as if he wanted to ask settled in from what, but he didn’t. “As long as we still have him by then.” His brown eyes were worried beneath bushy white brows. He glanced through the den’s unshaded front windows. “Are you sure everything’s all right?”

  “It will be,” Law said. “Just as soon as I convince a judge to at least temporarily suspend Libby’s custody rights, before her escalating drinking problem puts Chloe at even more risk.”

  Marsha’s shock showed only for a second.

  She rallied and reached out to squeeze his hand. “You be sure to let us know if there’s anything we can do. If nothing else, we’re witnesses that Chloe was out and about so late on a school night. That little girl of yours is special, and she’d be a pleasure to help look after, if you find yourself needing a spare pair of hands now and then.”

  Her touch was gentle and warm. She pulled back quickly, so Law didn’t have to. He tried twice to find his voice, and then settled for simply nodding. He opened the Dixons’ front door and carefully closed it behind him.

  Law could see his special girl huddled in the front seat of his truck, staring out her side window with her arms crossed over her chest, angry and hostile and a lot of other things he understood too well—emotions he’d never wanted Chloe to feel. But she had been feeling them, and hiding the worst of what she was going through—the same as Fin had hidden all day from his problems.

  How did Law explain to his daughter what was about to happen and why, when he’d gone for so long not really talking with her about the hard things in their lives, the toxic things, hoping he could fix everything, even Libby, before he’d have to?

  Looking down at his phone, he scrolled through his contacts until he’d found the number he was looking for—a number he’d had since moving to town but never used.

  Home or cell? he wondered.

  Cell, he decided.

  That way he hopefully wouldn’t be waking up more than one person. He placed the call and raised the phone to his ear, a lifetime of confusing images kaleidoscoping through his mind again, along with the memory of what had happened out back of Pockets.

  On the fifth ring, the call connected.

  “Hello?” a gruffer, sleepier version of his own voice said.

  “Dan…” Law swallowed the instant flash of resentment riding him to hang up on his brother, instead of asking the colossal-ass favor he was about to. “I’m sorry to wake you, man, but it’s kind of an emergency.”

  “What?”

  Rustling and a muffled curse brought to mind an image from their childhood: he and his brother sitting across the breakfast table from each other, eating off the crystal and china their mother insisted the staff set out, even though my boys always look like ruffians, she’d say, because they refuse to wash up before coming downstairs in the morning.

  Dan cleared his throat. “Law? Is it…” A sigh followed, then a quick inhale. “What’s wrong? Never mind. Where are you? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  And just that quickly, Law’s brilliant brother had engaged his brain, summed up the situation, and was on Law’s side like he’d said he always had been. Law had kept his distance all these years, not wanting to need that kind of help from his family.

  Indulging that fantasy was now officially over.

  “Sit tight,” he said, stalking toward his truck. “I’m heading your way. I hope you meant what you said, when you were chewing my ass out about Libby. Chloe and I need a place to stay for a while, with someone I can trust to help me keep an eye on her when I can’t.”

  “What about your ex-wife?”

  “She’s out of the picture. At least, she’s going to be. She has to be, for now. She’s gone too far this time.”

  “You mean what happened at the bowling center?”

  “I wish that’s all it was.” Law sighed, stopping beside the driver’s door and lowering his voice.

  He and Dan were going to have to talk about all of it. But before he moved Chloe onto Mimosa Lane, he and his brother needed to be on the same page about one more important thing. Something Law would rather go back to prison than ask Dan for. But he was going to ask, for his daughter’s sake.

  “I need another favor,” he said. “Could you front me enough cash to hire a decent family lawyer? You specialize in contracts, right? I need someone who can kick ass and take names in family court.”

  Silence answered him at first.

  “I’ve
got cash,” Dan finally said. “I know a few judges around here who’d be willing to listen to the right lawyer…judges who can see through whatever voodoo Libby did to get her everything she asked for in the divorce.”

  “I was kinda counting on your being able to reach out to someone tonight.” Law was grateful, resentful, embarrassed, and a whole lot of other things he’d never wanted to be again with his brother. “It’s that important. Libby’s going to hit the roof in the morning, once she sobers up enough to read the text I’m about to send her.”

  “Send it.” His brother inhaled again. “I’ll make a few calls. What’s going on, Law?”

  Law opened the driver’s door to the truck and slid behind the wheel. He started the engine and risked a sideways look at Chloe. She was crying, he realized, so quietly he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t looked so closely through the dark. Rage rushed through him.

  He reversed out of the Dixons’ driveway and away from the quaint, well-kept home that they’d given Fin and a host of other castaway boys and girls.

  “I’m finishing growing the hell up,” he said. “It’s time to make decisions I should have made a long time ago. I’ll be at your place soon. I’ll explain the rest then.”

  He thumbed the call closed and tossed his phone onto his dash. He was going to make this right, if he had to beg for help from his brother, the Dixons, or anyone else in town. He reached across the cab for Chloe’s hand. He wished he had Kristen there. She knew how to talk to people and relate to them and show them that she cared.

  “I need you to talk to me, darlin’.” He squeezed her fingers, not letting go when she tried to. “I know it’s been hard, and I know I don’t know enough about why. But…you scared me tonight. And I think you’re scared, too. I think you have been for a long time, and your mother and I have been too busy with our own problems to really notice how much…” His voice cracked, failing him.

  He ground his teeth. He was going to understand his daughter. She was going to know that someone was there for her, whatever else was going on.