Parker

by Vivi Holt

  She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t snarl at me, Parker Williams. You know I’m right.”

  He chuckled and the lines in his forehead smoothed away. “You are, as usual. I should go and see the doc. I’ve been using my strategies, though, you’ll be pleased to know.”

  “And has it helped?”

  “I think so. I’m talking to you about it, aren’t I?”

  She laughed and nodded. “Yes, you are. You know, I used to see a psychologist when I was younger.”

  “You did? What for?”

  “Oh, you know, the things rich kids are always seeing shrinks for. My parents thought they’d screwed me up, so they sent me to talk to someone else for three hundred dollars an hour so they didn’t have to deal with it.”

  His eyebrows arched high. “Oh.”

  She chuckled. “I’m not being fair to my parents. They love me and they showed it when I was a kid – they still do. But they were also very preoccupied, and I was so shy that I couldn’t talk to adults, so they thought there was something wrong with me. There wasn’t, but I got to add shrink visits to my weekly routine, between soccer practice and piano lessons.”

  He shook his head with a chuckle. “I keep forgetting you come from money. But you don’t seem …”

  “Snooty? Stuck-up? Spoiled?” She laughed.

  So did he. “No. You seem very down to earth. Normal, you know.”

  “Yes, but in part that’s because I didn’t want that life. I know, that sounds crazy, but my parents were always working when I was a kid. I hardly saw them – if I wanted to spend time with them, I had to go to work with them. They were and are very successful, so of course it paid off. But they only had one child, me. It got mighty lonely at times with no one to play with but the nanny.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, as soon as I was old enough to leave and go to college, I did. I set up a life for myself – a different kind of life, where I got to spend time with animals and people and enjoy myself. I don’t want work and making money to be my only priority. They didn’t take too kindly to that. They wanted me to get an MBA., come back to Birmingham and join the family business. But instead I became a vet and stayed in Atlanta.”

  He shook his head. “Wow. You’re such a rebel.”

  “They try to hook me back into their life all the time, offering to buy me fancy cars and condos and all sorts of things. But I know there are always strings attached. So since college, I’ve supported myself. It’s the one thing I insist on. I love my parents and I appreciate all they’ve done for me. I enjoy visiting them when I can. But I’ll never let them control my life. And they tend to try to – if I give them an inch, they’ll take a mile.”

  He grimaced. “That sounds dangerous.”

  She chuckled. “You have no idea. But what about you? I can’t imagine it was your family’s dream to have you join the Army right out of school.”

  He shook his head. “Definitely not. Mom cried for a week when I told her. She wanted me to be a doctor or lawyer or … anything else, really.”

  “Do you regret it?” asked Jen, setting her hand on his knee.

  He looked at her hand, then covered it with his, sending a thrill up her arm. “Nope. But it’s taken me a while to realize that.”

  “Well, we both have a chance now to set up the kind of life we want.”

  He nodded. “You make it sound like anything’s possible.”

  She smiled. “It is.”

  Chapter 12

  Dalton slammed his fist on the table, making the glasses shiver. “I just can’t believe they won’t pay!”

  Eamon smoothed his hair back and stared at the spreadsheet on the laptop in front of them. “Sorry, it just doesn’t add up. We can’t afford to replace the roof and fix the two bedrooms and bathroom. Not with the ranch bank accounts the way they are. And Dalton’s got nothing left after he pays Hazel’s medical bills.”

  “I put all my savings into the ranch and my truck,” added Parker with a grimace. “I shouldn’t have bought the truck. I knew it was too big an expense.”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” replied Eamon. “You needed a vehicle and there’s nothing you can do about it now. I’ve got a little bit saved, but I’ve been eating away at it ever since I left Chattanooga. I keep thinking things will pick up at the Cotton Tree and we’ll be able to draw a decent wage, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

  “Do you think it ever will?” asked Dalton.

  Eamon nodded. “I do. We’re so close. We’ve finally reached several of our big goals with the herd and breeding stock. The barn has been renovated. We’ve got all the equipment we need. There were a lot of capital expenses in the first year or so, but that should’ve slowed down by now. Except that the roof got blown off.”

  “Shoulda, coulda, woulda,” Dalton grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face.

  “There’s no point in us turning on each other,” said Eamon, his eyes narrowing.

  “I’m sorry – I just don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve led you both into an impossible situation. And it’s all on my shoulders …”

  “No, it’s not,” replied Parker. “It’s all on our shoulders. This is our ranch. We decided to go in on it with you – that was our choice. We didn’t have to do it, we wanted to. And now that it’s in trouble, that’s on all of us.”

  The three of them fell silent, resting their chins in their hands.

  The phone rang and Parker stood to retrieve it from its cradle on the kitchen wall. “Hello, Cotton Tree Ranch.”

  “Is that Dalton?” a man said.

  Parker shook his head. “No, sir, this is Parker.”

  “Oh, hey, Parker – this is Alton Conway over at the Conway Farm down the road. How’re you doin’, son?”

  Parker smiled. “I’m well, thanks, Mr. Conway. And you?”

  “Well, I just heard from Bill Pullen about your roof situation over there at the ranch house. Blown clean off, huh?”

  Parker rubbed his eyes. “Yes, sir, that’s right. Not the whole thing, but near enough.”

  “Well, I’d like to come over sometime this week and help you repair that ol’ thing. I’ve got some sheets of Colorbond roofin’ you’re welcome to – we just re-roofed our farmhouse last month and we got leftovers.”

  Parker’s eyes widened. “We’d sure appreciate that, sir! Any help we can get is more than we have now.”

  “You got it, Parker. Just give me a call and let me know when, and I’ll be there.” The phone line went dead and he set it back in place.

  “Who was that?” asked Dalton.

  Just then, the phone rang again. Parker frowned and picked it up. “Cotton Tree Ranch, this is Parker.”

  “Hello there, Parker me boy. It’s Will Hart. How’re things?”

  “Hello, Will. What’s up?”

  “Well, I was just talking to Bill Pullen at the feed store, and he told me about the storm damage you got. A few of us were there and we decided we’d offer our services to help you fix it up. Shouldn’t take more than a few days with enough men. And Andy Harmon – you know, the plumber? He said he’d take a look at your piping. My son-in-law Jackson’s a tiler and he’s more than happy to re-tile your bathroom, said he’s got a good bit of leftover tiles you can choose from if you like. Free of charge.”

  Parker rubbed his chin. “Wow, Will, that would be amazing. Thanks!”

  When he hung up, he didn’t even get a chance to raise an eyebrow in his brothers’ direction before phone rang again. By the end of the evening, much to the Williams brothers’ surprise, they had an entire team of volunteers and tradesmen lined up to do the repairs on their house the following Monday. And Parker sat with hunched shoulders at the kitchen table, exhausted by all the conversations he’d had with neighbors from all over the county to organize the work.

  “Do you think it’ll be enough?” asked Eamon, nursing a cup of coffee in his hands.

  Dalton shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know. Bu
t it’s sure a good start.”

  * * *

  Jen stirred the pot of beans one last time. Using oven mitts, she picked up the pot, emptied it into a long glass baking pan, laid strips of bacon across the top and slid it into the oven. She stood with her hands on her hips and surveyed the kitchen, full to the brim with women from the surrounding farms. The Cotton Tree was the only ranch in the county. Everyone else grew cotton, peaches or one of a dozen other crops that thrived in the red dirt of south Georgia.

  “How’s that sweet tea comin’?” asked Esther Pullen, a tea towel draped over her shoulder.

  Jen turned to check the saucepan, with tea bags bubbling. “I think it’s about done. I’ve added the sugar and I think it’s dissolved.”

  “Good. Here you go.” Esther set a large jug full of ice on the counter by the stove.

  Jen picked up the saucepan, poured it into the jug, filled it to the brim with cold water from the tap and carried it out to the front porch. A row of tables set up along the porch held jugs of ice water, sweet tea and Coke, along with trays of crackers, cheese and buttered biscuits. She set the jug on one of the tables and hurried back inside, wiping her hands on the apron around her waist.

  She glanced down the hall as she passed. She couldn’t see the work being done – one of the men had hung a sheet to prevent dust sifting into the rest of the house – but she could hear it. They’d begun just after breakfast, the families arriving in trucks and SUVs, finding anywhere they could in the front yard to park, most laden with building supplies or some kind of food.

  Back in the kitchen, the din of conversation drowned out the banging and clanging of work going on overhead. The women chatted and laughed as they bustled around, putting together a lunch that looked as though it would feed Parker’s old Army unit, though there were only about thirty people there from Jen’s count. Still, she supposed they’d be mighty hungry after a full morning of work.

  There were trays of fried chicken to go with the pans of beans and the biscuits, a truckload of macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, hamburgers, fries and onion rings and collard greens. And for dessert there were banana cream pies, apple pies and peach and blackberry cobblers. She licked her lips and her stomach growled. Just the sight and smell of so much good food made her hungry.

  She picked up a tray of chicken and carried it out to the porch, past Hazel seated in the den with a book in her hands, watching with a frown as everyone buzzed by. Jen hadn’t seen her actually look at the book – no doubt she was wishing she could join in the fun. She deposited the chicken outside, then returned to sit beside Hazel on the couch. “How’re you doing?”

  Hazel grimaced. “I feel ridiculous, just sitting here while everyone else is working so hard.”

  Jen laughed and patted her arm.

  “Susan banned me. She banned me!” Hazel huffed. “Said my only job today was to keep getting well and let everyone else take care of the rest.”

  Jen nodded. “Susan is very wise.”

  Hazel snarled as another woman hurried by with an armful of food. “Yes, I suppose she’s just trying to do what’s best for me. But seriously, I’m feeling good. I could help out with … something.”

  Jen stood. “Can I get you a drink?”

  Hazel nodded, her face falling. “Yes, thank you.”

  Jen nodded and made her way back to the kitchen. A group of children pushed past her through the kitchen door, chattering and laughing, and she grinned. It felt good to have so much life filling the house. She piled a plate with food, filled a plastic cup with sweet tea and carried it back to set on the coffee table beside Hazel. “You could come outside and eat with everyone else,” she suggested.

  Hazel made a face and nodded. “I’ll do that. Thanks.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  She sighed. “Besides being bored out of my mind? The test results. They should be done – they said I’d hear back by now, but I haven’t heard a thing.”

  Jen half-smiled. “I’m sure we’ll hear soon.”

  “But what if it’s bad? What if they missed some of the cancer and I have to go through chemo? And what if the chemo doesn’t work …” She took a quick breath and put her hand on her throat. “I’m in my last year of teacher’s college. I was hoping I’d get a job next year, then maybe we’d get pregnant. I mean, you never know for sure if you can get pregnant until you try, but I want to have a family. If I have to do chemo, we may have to wait five years to start a family, if we can have one at all. And if the chemo doesn’t work …”

  Jen took her hand and squeezed it. “Whoa, calm down there, sweetie. You can’t go down that road – it’ll only lead to a panic attack. Let’s just wait to see what the results are. Maybe they’ll be clear. And if they’re not, we have to believe the chemo will work. Don’t fret – it’s not going to make anything better.”

  Hazel squeezed her eyes shut and nodded as tears rolled down her cheeks. “You’re right. I shouldn’t think about it. At least not until it’s real.”

  Jen embraced her friend. “I know it’s going to be okay. You’ve come through the surgery so well, and Emily was confident she got it all. Try to enjoy today and not worry about it anymore. We’ll get the results soon enough.” She glanced over Hazel’s shoulder as her friend sobbed into her hair and saw Parker through the hanging sheet. He caught a glimpse of them and smiled, his cheeks dimpling.

  Jen’s heart quivered. Would Hazel be okay? For that matter, what about Parker? She wished there was more she could do to take care of her friends. But all she could do was be there for them, pray for them and hope that everything would turn out okay in the end.

  * * *

  Jen admired the brand-new bathroom and the roof overhead. She was in awe of how much could be achieved when a community pulled together the way theirs had over the past two weeks. The tiling had finally been completed that day, and that was that. She smiled and hurried back to the den where they were playing Monopoly. Susan had gone out shopping earlier that afternoon and hadn’t returned yet, so it was just the two couples, Parker and Jen.

  She slid onto the couch beside Parker and grinned at him. He seemed better as well. As promised, he’d been visiting his psychologist since they last discussed it, and his smile had returned after their neighbors and friends came together to repair the storm damage. He and Dalton had even gotten a few days’ work here and there as laborers, and Eamon had picked up some accounting clients from surrounding farms. Every bit helped to keep the lights on at the ranch, as Dalton liked to remind them. And the lights were back on — once the roof had been repaired, the power company restored electricity to the ranch house within days. They were celebrating the milestone with a pot roast and board games.

  “You ready to lose?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

  She laughed. “Please. I already have six hotels on my properties. You’re gonna be paying rent every day of the week, buddy.”

  Hazel stood and maneuvered past them, heading toward the kitchen. “I’m going to make some popcorn,” she called back over her shoulder.

  “I’ll help.” Dalton followed quickly behind.

  Eamon moved his game piece around the board, passed Go and collected two hundred dollars from Emily, who served as the bank. He leaned across to wrest the money from her.

  “No, you’re cheating!” she cried with a giggle.

  “I’m not cheating. You’re not very good at this whole bank thing.” He dug his fingers into her ribs, eliciting a cackle of laughter. “You’re supposed to be impartial and just hand over the money.”

  In between bursts of laughter, she cried, “But you were in jail!”

  “I rolled a double!”

  “On the floor – that doesn’t count!”

  Jen rolled her eyes. “Come on, you two.”

  Parker smirked and slapped his brother playfully on the thigh. “Em, give him the money this time. But no more cheating, Eamon.”

  Emily handed over the cash with a pout, then glanced at the kitchen
door. Hazel and Dalton were still in the kitchen, but all they heard was the hum of the microwave. She and Eamon exchanged a look and she cleared her throat.

  Jen frowned. “What’s going on, you two? You look like the cat that ate the canary.”

  Emily frowned. “We have a secret to tell. But if we tell you, you can’t say anything to Hazel or Dalton.”

  Jen’s brow furrowed. “Okay …”

  Emily grinned, then whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

  Jen clapped her hand over her mouth to stop from squealing, then whispered back, “Congratulations. That’s so exciting. Wow, that was …” She stopped, her cheeks reddening.

  “Fast? Yeah, we know.” Emily chuckled as Eamon laced his fingers through hers.

  Eamon gazed into Emily’s eyes. “It’s really early still, but we just wanted to tell you. We only found out yesterday.”

  Jen felt all warm inside. “Well, that’s great news. And we won’t say anything, but I have to ask – why tell us but not Hazel and Dalton? I mean, I understand if it’s too soon to go public, but they’re your best friends.”

  Eamon took a slow breath. “Well, you know Hazel hasn’t gotten her results yet, so we’re waiting to see how that goes … anyway, they have other things on their minds.”

  “And this certainly wasn’t planned,” added Emily. “I mean, I had a whole heap of other plans, but a baby wasn’t one of them. Still, we couldn’t be happier.” She turned to Eamon and he kissed the tip of her nose.

  “Absolutely. We’ll still do all those things we’d planned, only it’ll be three of us doing them rather than two.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to kiss her on the lips. “Having a baby won’t change anything.”

  Jen smiled and leaned back on the couch. “Well, I’m really happy for you two. And I know Hazel and Dalton will be as well.”

  Parker slouched forward and whispered, “I think the game’s over.” His smile made her heart beat faster and her stomach did a flip. His arm pressed against hers and his fingers tickled the side of her leg.

  Jen bit her lower lip and was about to slip her hand into his when Hazel and Dalton burst through the kitchen door, both holding bowls. “Popcorn’s ready!” called Dalton.