“So she has a picture in her mind.”
“Yes.” Ryan took another bite. Chewing more slowly, he tried to piece together Penny’s actions. “What happened after the heaven talk?”
“We sat in the sun to dry off. I was wearing sunglasses, so she couldn’t see my eyes. She thought I was asleep and headed for the gate. Rather than stop her, I watched.”
“And she headed for the car.”
“Exactly.” Carly covered the toaster and wiped up crumbs. “I tried to talk to her about it, but she can’t explain. Rather than frustrate us both, I let it go. But I’m positive everything is related—her mother, swimming, running away, even the old Impala.”
“I understand her mother and the ocean, but why the car?”
“I have no idea.” Carly ambled back to the table, picked up the pen, and tapped it against the notepad. “At least she’s happier in her room. It feels calmer now, even to me.”
Thanks to Carly, the walls were now pale blue, and the open shelves were filled with white bins labeled in block printing with words like “Crayons” and “Bedtime Books.” There was no clutter except what Penny created, and the messes were easily put away in the bins. Problem solved, or at least mitigated.
There was nothing else to say about Penny, so Ryan shifted gears from a problem he couldn’t solve to one he could. After setting the plate in the sink, he rested his hands on the counter and crossed one foot over the other. “Is that a grocery list?”
With a flick of her wrist, she flipped the paper upside down. “Yes, it is. And tonight’s menu is a secret.”
“Stay. I want you with us.”
She was already shaking her head. “We’ve been over this. I’ll dish up, but then I’m leaving. You don’t need me here. Families eat together all the time. Not as often as they used to, but still, it’s normal.”
“Not for me.”
“Not normal? What do you mean?”
“I was an only child.” On the rare occasions he had eaten dinner with his parents, he felt like a grad student giving a presentation. That wasn’t all bad. Those conversations sharpened his mind, and he enjoyed them as much as other kids enjoyed having their fathers coach soccer. “Meals with my parents felt more like meetings.”
Carly drummed the pen some more. “Didn’t you eat with Heather and the kids?”
“Not very often.”
“So this really is new to you.” She tipped her head, curiosity bright in her eyes. “I can’t imagine.”
Sensing a crack in her resolve, he tweaked his strategy. When it came to rescuing people in need, Carly would fight and fight hard. Rather than pressure her—he was certain she’d rebel—he waited with what he hoped was a mildly pathetic look on his face.
She drummed again, sipped her coffee, then faced him with a glint in her eye. “You’re pathetic. Do you know that?”
He threw up his hands in surrender. “Definitely. Absolutely. I’m beyond hope.”
“You’re also a bad actor,” she said with a hint of a smile. “You’re playing on my sympathies with that dreary face.”
Confession time. “You bet I am. You might not believe it, but I really am in trouble here. The first time we sat down together, it was awful.”
“What happened?”
“Kyle tried to talk baseball, which annoyed Eric, who hates sports. I asked Eric about the movie he saw with Nathan, and he told me it stank. No one said another word until Penny spilled her milk. It was a mess, a complete disaster.”
Carly’s mouth puckered as if she were hiding something; then she chuckled.
Ryan didn’t get it. “What’s so funny?”
“You are! Spilled milk and bickering are part of life. My brother was a table kicker, and I can’t tell you how many times my sister and I stuck our tongues out at each other over mashed potatoes.”
“Hmm.” Maybe he didn’t want normal.
Carly studied him for a moment. “It’s your job to teach them manners, but it’s even more important to just be with them.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are.” She picked up the list, skimmed it, sighed with as much exaggeration as he’d dished out earlier. Finally she set it down. “Oh, all right. I’ll stay. But just this once. And only because there won’t be any leftovers, and I’m cooking the best meal in the world.”
He pushed away from the counter. “Thank you, Carly. It means a lot to me.”
“It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”
When she dismissed him with a flick of her hand, he noticed bluish shadows under her eyes. She looked tired, or maybe she was coming down with a cold.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” She surrendered to a massive yawn. “It was a bad night. The police helicopter woke me up around three, and I couldn’t get back to sleep.”
“Just say the word and you can live in.”
“No, but thank you.”
He wished she would change her mind and not just for the convenience. He worried about her driving that rattletrap car of hers. If he didn’t need the van for hauling the kids around, he’d have told her to drive it like her own. As things stood, the Check Engine light had popped on yesterday.
Carly opened the pantry and lifted a box of pancake mix for the kids’ breakfast. “Dinner’s at six. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t,” he said. “By the way, I’m dropping the van at the mechanic.”
“That’s fine. I’ll take my car to the store. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
He took a step toward the hall, but his feet stopped, and he turned for a final look at Carly. Out of the blue, he was struck with the urge to kiss her good-bye. Those feelings were pure craziness, nature at work, and as inconvenient as a toothache.
Annoyed, he headed for the van. As he turned the ignition, the amber warning light flashed, a reminder to check the engine before something costly happened. He needed to rein in his feelings for Carly for the same reason.
Carly spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen. With a little luck, her mother’s fried chicken would work its usual magic, and Ryan could cross “Have an enjoyable family dinner” off his SOS list. She hoped the meal went well, because after last night’s helicopter incident, where the lights scraped across her window, she was determined to be home before dark. How many times did she have to ask the landlord to replace the lights in the carport? She would have done it herself, but it required long fluorescent bulbs, and they were expensive. Besides, that’s why she paid rent.
Kyle walked into the kitchen and sniffed the air. “Dinner smells awesome.”
“I think you’ll like it.” Using potholders, she lifted a rectangular Pyrex dish out of the oven. “We’re having fried chicken, green beans with bacon, hash-brown casserole, and homemade biscuits.”
“Wow.” He looked close to drooling. “What’s for dessert?”
“Chocolate meringue pie.” Ryan’s favorite, a bit of trivia she’d picked up talking to the boys. She set the steaming dish on a woven mat. “How about setting the table?”
While Carly dished up, Kyle broke out the silverware. Penny was in the family room playing with stuffed animals in the small tent Carly used to give her a quiet place downstairs. Eric was upstairs on his computer, either playing a game or reading about shark attacks.
Surrounded by familiar aromas, Carly chatted with Kyle about his day. Of the three kids, he was the most content. Yesterday he’d told her he believed in God and liked going to youth group with Taylor. Carly hoped Ryan had spoken to him about girls and respect, then worried about what he might say. Ryan came from a very different world than the one where she’d been raised. There was a good chance his advice to Kyle would be “use protection.” Probably not yet. Kyle was far from an adult, but someday he’d be a man and responsible for himself and the woman he loved.
Carly often wondered about phrases like “safe sex.” Her personal idea of “protection” had nothing to do with latex and everything
to do with love. She wrestled with physical temptation as much as any woman, but she wanted her wedding night, if she had one, to be as special as she imagined, even sacred. That longing had cost her a boyfriend in college, an almost-fiancé who didn’t want to wait for marriage to have sex. She cried a lot when he ended the relationship, not for what she lost but for what they didn’t really have. In the end, she had realized that he didn’t know her at all.
“Carly?”
“Yes?” She set down the biscuits and turned to Kyle. He looked so much like Ryan that she inhaled sharply.
Kyle’s cheeks reddened a bit. “I just want to say thanks for everything—driving me to practice, being nice to Taylor and her parents, everything. My mom would like you.”
“That’s high praise.” She was flattered, truly. “Knowing you and Eric, I’m sure I’d like your mom, too.”
“She’s all right,” Kyle said in a way that turned “all right” into “someone special.” Then he glanced back at the table laden with food. “This looks great.”
“Oh, it is.” She’d been put on earth to serve and bless others. That’s why she was standing here now—to help the Tremaines become a family. If that meant cooking up fried chicken for Ryan, she’d do it with joy. She just wished that catch in her heart would go away, because when he walked into the kitchen and smiled at her, she could barely breathe.
12
Ryan sauntered into the kitchen after a long day at the office, smelled fried chicken, and congratulated himself on guessing Carly’s menu. What else would a southern woman fix for a family dinner? The anticipation was the one bright spot in a day that included bad news from the mechanic. The van needed a part that was back ordered, and it wouldn’t be ready until late tomorrow. He hoped the bad day wasn’t a harbinger of things to come with the meal.
Carly saw him and smiled. “Perfect timing.”
“Hey, Dad.” Kyle stuck a napkin under a fork. “You should see what Carly fixed.”
“It smells great.”
She tossed him a look he interpreted as “See? Normal talk. That’s not so hard.” After setting down the platter of chicken, she surveyed the table and turned to Kyle. “Would you get Eric?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t forget to wash up,” she added.
Next, she glanced at the tent in the family room. Ryan followed her gaze and saw Penny silhouetted against the tan fabric. Giving her a safe place in the middle of the house was brilliant, another one of Carly’s innovations. As he turned to comment, she faced him. “I’ll call Penny in a minute. How was your day?”
“Long.” Five patients didn’t show up, a thorn to both the bottom line and his usual busy pace. He’d been distracted all day. “I have bad news about the van. It won’t be ready until late tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing on the calendar. At least no carpool duties. We’ll be fine.”
There it was again, that we that wrapped around them like a lariat and pulled tight. He needed her tonight, so he didn’t pull back from her mentally, or from the table set with red gingham place mats and white dishes. “Dinner is served,” he said dryly. “Why do I feel like a sacrificial lamb?”
He was looking at the table and his place at the head when Carly laid her hand on his arm. The touch was feather light, but it carried the weight of all her goodwill, the hours she’d spent fixing the meal, and most of all, the fact she was on his side.
“Relax,” she said to him. “Families do this all the time. Why don’t you change clothes?”
“Good idea.” He excused himself to go upstairs, where he put on old Levis and tried to stop thinking about Carly and lambs. She was right. For most people, a family meal was as routine as brushing one’s teeth.
Somewhat fortified, he returned to the kitchen, where Eric and Kyle were seated on one side of the table, with Carly and Penny on the other. Only one seat remained—the empty chair at the head of the table.
Feeling more like a CEO than a dad, Ryan sat. All eyes were on him, every ear waiting to hear what he’d say. Carly met his gaze and held it, silently telling him to break the tension. What did he do? Tell a joke? Explain why he’d called this meeting together? None of the above, he decided. After clearing his throat, he put his napkin in his lap. “This sure looks good—”
“We have to say grace!” Penny cried out.
Ryan never said grace. He didn’t believe in God, but others did, and that was fine by him. “Okay, honey. You can say it.”
“No,” she said. “You.”
Eric and Kyle knew how he felt about religion. If he said grace, he’d be a hypocrite. But with four pairs of eyes staring at him, he latched onto a compromise. “We’ll have a moment of silence. Anyone who wants to pray, can.”
He bent his neck and stared at his empty plate, silently counting to ten, when Kyle’s voice, as deep as Ryan’s, broke the silence.
“Father God, thank you for the food we’re about to receive, for Carly who cooked it, and for Dad who earned the money to pay for it. Amen.”
Ryan sat stunned. Deep down, he didn’t think his kids appreciated what he did for them—food, clothes, doctor visits, college funds. What kid did appreciate those things? Ryan hadn’t appreciated his own father until he was married and paying his own bills. He swallowed hard and nodded an acknowledgement to Kyle. His throat was too tight to speak, and besides, he didn’t like mush and neither did Kyle.
“Dig in!” Carly reached for the chicken, served Penny, and passed the platter to Eric across from her.
Quiet as usual, Eric took a drumstick.
Kyle helped himself, then passed the platter to Ryan.
They repeated the ritual with the serving bowls, sitting in silence, punctuated by the scrape of forks. Even Penny was quiet for a change. He might have enjoyed the quiet after the hectic day, but Carly waggled her brows at him. A cue. Say something.
Ryan cleared his throat. “So, Kyle. How was baseball practice?”
“Good,” Kyle said between bites. He was a lot more interested in the chicken than in conversation.
Ryan tried with Eric. “How about you, Eric? What did you do today?”
The boy let out a sigh. “The usual.”
Whatever that was. Ryan decided not to push. “Penny? How about you?”
She didn’t make a sound, not a peep. Maybe she heard him; maybe she didn’t. With her auditory deficits, he couldn’t be sure. Rather than push Penny into frustration, Ryan focused on Carly, willing her to play social worker and lead the conversation. Instead, she glanced from face to face, saying nothing.
“Good chicken,” he said to her.
“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “How was your day?”
“Normal.”
He sounded just like Kyle and Eric. No wonder his kids didn’t talk at the table. Neither did he, and he didn’t know how to fill the silence.
Carly couldn’t stand the tension. No one put an elbow on the table. The boys kept their napkins in their laps. Not a single drop of milk dripped down a chin. Penny’s fidgeting was the only hint of normal behavior, and even she was more subdued than usual. If her own family had acted this way, she’d have lobbed a biscuit at her brother to see if he was breathing.
She didn’t think Ryan would appreciate a flying biscuit, and Penny might imitate her. Belching might have done the trick for the boys, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Still pondering, she reached for the pepper shaker, caught a whiff, and realized the answer was in her hand.
Humming loud enough to draw attention, she lifted the pepper shaker and shook it over her food. She shook and shook until everyone at the table was staring at her plate with reactions ranging from confusion to amusement. Ryan’s brows were arched as high as she’d ever seen. Kyle’s expression matched his father’s. Penny was laughing in that maniacal way of hers. And Eric . . . Eric’s eyes were sparkling with a mirth she hadn’t seen in him before. She winked at him, and he smiled back.
Carly kept shaking the pepper. Her pla
te was nearly black with it, but she shook until pepper covered every inch of her meal. Everyone just stared at the mess until Eric burst out laughing. Penny laughed too, then she shouted, “Carly’s crazy!”
Kyle looked at her plate with a mix of horror and confusion. So did Ryan, but his face stayed stiff.
Ramping up the joke, she leaned forward and inhaled through her nose. The pepper tickled her nostrils with the start of a sneeze. “Ahh . . . ahhh . . .” Snatching up her napkin, she reared back in the chair with her eyes watering. “Aaaatchoooo!”
She sneezed two more times, then fanned herself. “Well, excu-uuu-use me,” she said, like in the old Steve Martin routine.
Kyle burst out laughing. He was in stitches, and so were Eric and Penny. And then suddenly so was Ryan. Carly had never heard him laugh so hard and so freely. Her heart melted into a puddle of warm butter, the best part of eating a biscuit, and she knew she’d never forget this moment.
The entire family was laughing now, and so was Carly. Her chest ached with the force of it, and her eyes watered with bittersweet tears. She didn’t want this moment to end. Yearning for a family of her own, a husband and children who’d laugh and cry with her, she turned to Ryan. His eyes, twinkling and full of joy, locked on to hers, and she felt a nudge under the table, his foot against hers, a wordless thank you that flooded her heart with both joy and trepidation. She didn’t dare lose her heart to this man. They were as mismatched as day and night, darkness and light.
The kids were talking at the same time now, about food they hated and food they liked. Forcing her thoughts away from Ryan, she made notes about what to cook for them. Kyle liked corn better than peas, and Eric frowned at gravy. And Ryan, he was on his third piece of chicken and second helping of hash-brown casserole, which he announced was his new favorite food.
The dinner settled into the relaxed meal she’d hoped for, and the family cleaned out the serving bowls except for some of the hash-brown casserole, which she decided to take to Bette. They were all too full for the chocolate meringue pie, but no one wanted to leave the table. Finally, worried about driving home in the dark, Carly prodded the guys into doing the dishes and took Penny upstairs for a bath and pajamas.
Together With You Page 11