Remember Texas

by Eve Gaddy

  “Fifteen. Nearly sixteen.”

  She studied him a minute. “You don’t look old enough to have a child that age.”

  He laughed. “Thanks, but sometimes I feel like I’m a hundred when I’m dealing with him.”

  “Is he interested in boats, like you are?”

  “No. Right now the only thing he’s interested in is going back to Galveston. That’s where we moved from.”

  “It must be hard raising him alone.”

  “You can say that again. I wonder—” He stopped.

  “What?” she prompted.

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to bore you with my childrearing problems.”

  “I’m not bored. What were you going to say?”

  She sounded sincerely interested so he went ahead and said it. “I just wondered how different things would be if Cynthia was still here. She was a great mother. Always knew what to do.” He laughed without much humor. “I don’t, to say the least.” No, Jack continually felt as if he were swimming in quicksand.

  “When did you lose her?”

  “Six years ago. Car wreck. One minute she was here, the next she was gone.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too. But enough of my life story. There’s Copper’s Cove right ahead of us.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  She was quiet after that and Jack didn’t attempt more conversation. Something was going on with her, but he couldn’t figure out what.

  A short time later they pulled up to the dock. He helped Ava out of the boat, then yielded to the impulse he’d had since he first saw her. “Would you like to grab some dinner after work? I have to pick up Cole later, but we could catch a quick bite somewhere.”

  She looked surprised. “That sounds nice but I’d better not. There’s something I have to do tonight.”

  “Okay. Maybe a rain check?”

  She smiled but didn’t answer. Then she headed inside.

  He stared after her for a long moment. Talk about a killer smile. He wondered what it meant. She was the first woman in a long time he’d really wanted to go out with. He’d been so caught up in raising his son, he just hadn’t made time for women.

  Ava Vincent was worth making time for, though.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “WANT ME TO FIX grilled cheese for dinner?” Jack asked Cole after he picked him up from the Institute and brought him home. The sandwich was one of Cole’s favorites. He wasn’t much of a cook, but after Cynthia had died he hadn’t had a choice but to learn. He usually went for simple meals, though he could make a mean spaghetti and meat sauce. “Okay.”

  Instead of hanging out in the kitchen as he once would have done, Cole retreated to his room. Jack sighed.

  A short time later he called Cole in and they sat down to sandwiches, chips and milk. Not the greatest meal but far from the worst. He watched Cole eat for a minute, then said, “So, tell me about work. Did you enjoy it? What do you think about the Institute?”

  Cole shrugged. “It was okay.” He stuffed some more food in his mouth.

  When he’d been little Cole had talked nonstop. Not anymore. “What did they have you do?”

  He rolled his eyes but answered. “Clean up stuff, file stuff.”

  Jack waited a bit, then prompted. “Is that all?”

  Showing more animation than he had yet, Cole shook his head. “Dr. Long showed me the dolphin tank and said when we had one to rehab I could help with it. Sometimes they need twenty-four-hour help, he said, and you can only do a four-hour shift. So they go through a lot of volunteers. He said I could get in the tank with the dolphins and everything.” He sent Jack a challenging look as if he expected an argument.

  “That sounds like fun,” was all Jack said. Jared had already discussed the possibility with Jack, but he didn’t tell Cole that. Sometimes getting the kid to talk was exhausting, he thought. “How was school?”

  “Okay.”

  Looked like they were back to one-word answers. Jack gritted his teeth. “Have you met anyone you like yet?”

  “A couple of guys. They invited me to a party Friday night.”

  “That’s great.” An unwelcome thought occurred to him. “Will the parents be there?”

  Cole rolled his eyes again. “I guess.”

  “Find out and you can go.”

  Cole shot him a disgusted look. “I’m not asking them that. I’ll look like a dork.”

  “No parents, no party.”

  “Forget it, then.” He got up and took his plate to the sink, rinsed it off and put it in the dishwasher. Jack had drilled that into his head often enough that it was automatic. “You don’t want me to have a life.”

  Jack heard the frustration in his voice, which made him answer more patiently than he might have. “Yes, I do. I just don’t want you to get in trouble. I’m sure you can figure out a way to find out if the parents will be there without looking like a dork.”

  Cole didn’t answer and left the room. Jack cleaned up the dinner dishes and wished he didn’t have to be such a hard-ass with his son. But he just didn’t see any way around it. The plain truth was, he didn’t trust Cole not to get in trouble at a party with no parents around.

  He found Cole in the living room parked in front of the TV. “I’m going to run over to Mark’s for a little while. Don’t forget to do your homework.” He took Cole’s grunt as a sign of agreement.

  He walked across the yard in the gathering twilight. Although it was October, it was still hotter than Hades most of the time, but Jack didn’t really mind that. He was used to it. What he did mind was the struggle to get through to his son. There had to be a way of getting close to Cole again, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever find it.

  As he reached his neighbor’s door, Jack heard shrieking, but he went ahead and knocked. Noise wasn’t unusual in the Kincaid household, he’d quickly discovered.

  Mark answered the door holding his two-year-old daughter, who giggled and patted her father’s cheek. “Story,” she demanded.

  “In a minute, sweetheart,” he told her. “Hey, Jack, what’s up?”

  “Not much. I had a favor to ask you, but it looks like you’re busy.”

  “No, no, come on in.” He waved at the couch. “It’s Cat’s turn to read, anyway.”

  “Want Daddy,” Miranda said, pursing her lips and planting a smacking kiss on Mark’s cheek.

  Mark’s little girl really was his spitting image, with her dark hair and amazingly blue eyes. He reminded himself not to bring up the fact that those eyes looked exactly like Ava Vincent’s, too.

  “Let’s go see Mommy,” Mark said, and carried the child out of the room. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he called over his shoulder.

  He came back a couple of minutes later and sat on the couch. “The only thing tougher than getting Miranda to bed is getting both Max and Miranda down for the count. I wonder what we’re going to do when Cat has the baby?”

  “Pray a lot,” Jack said.

  Mark laughed. “Good idea.”

  “How much longer until the baby’s due?” Jack asked. He knew from seeing Cat that it couldn’t be too much longer.

  “Eight weeks. Since Miranda was early we’re a little worried this one might be, too, but the doc says everything’s looking good.”

  “Funny thing, I can remember Cynthia’s last month with Cole, even fifteen years later.” He shook his head. “It’s uh, tough, to say the least.”

  “So tell me about this favor you want.”

  “Cole’s birthday is a week from Sunday. I’m getting him a car, and I wondered if I could keep it in your garage overnight. I’ll pick it up Saturday while he’s at work.”

  “Sure, that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll just park mine in the driveway for the night.”

  “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I hope it’s not too much of a pain, but I want him to have it on his birthday.”

  “Hard to believe he’s going to be sixteen. So tell me about this car.
Is it new?”

  Jack laughed. “No way. But at least it runs. He’s been wanting one for months, but I’ve been ignoring him so I don’t think he suspects anything.”

  “Mark, can you come here? Max wants you,” Cat called from the other room.

  “Be right there.” He stood and said, “Want to hang around for a beer?”

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Cole’s supposedly doing his homework, but I have a feeling he’s playing video games. I’ll let myself out.”

  “Sounds good. See you later,” Mark said, and went to help his wife.

  Jack pulled open the door and did a double take. “Ava? What are you doing here?”

  She looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her. For a long moment she didn’t speak. “I— This isn’t your house, is it?”

  “No. It’s my—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Mark came back in saying, “I thought I heard—” He broke off as Jack stepped aside. He stood staring at Ava, rooted to the spot, the color completely drained from his face. After a long, tense moment, he said brokenly, “Miranda?”

  Ava faltered, then stepped inside and said, “Yes, Mark. It’s me. Miranda.”

  Jack didn’t think either of them missed him when he walked out the door and closed it behind him.

  FOR A LONG, INTENSE MOMENT they simply stared at each other. Then, Ava took a halting step forward and the next thing she knew, she was hugging her brother for the first time in over twenty years. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She couldn’t have spoken if she’d tried.

  When Mark finally loosened his hold, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and cleared his throat. Then he reached out hesitantly and touched her shoulder, as if he couldn’t believe she was real. “My God, it’s really you. How— Why—” He halted, searched her face. “I thought you were dead,” he murmured. “We all did. It’s been so long. We tried to find you for years. Years.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry I didn’t find you before now.”

  “Why didn’t you? And why now?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re the marine biologist Jack’s been working with.”

  She nodded. “Yes. I go by Ava Vincent. I have for a long time.” She looked around, noting the birdcage in the corner, covered for the night. “Your house is lovely. And you look so…so happy.” She resisted the urge to wring her hands. He was still standing there, staring at her. “Could we—could we sit down?”

  A small, dark haired pregnant woman entered the room, talking. “I finally got them to sleep. And I have to tell you I’m one step behind them. I’m so tired I could cry.” She stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Ava. “Oh, I didn’t realize we had company.” Looking from Mark to Ava, her eyes widened, her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

  Mark cleared his throat again, held out a hand to his wife. She came immediately to his side. “This is Miranda. My sister.”

  To Miranda he said, “This is my wife, Cat.”

  Feeling incredibly awkward, Ava extended her hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I don’t quite know what to say.”

  Cat shook hands with her, looking nearly as dazed as Mark did. “I think I should leave you two alone. You’ll have a lot to talk about.” She turned to her husband. “Do you want me to call Jay?”

  “No. I’d better do that.”

  Cat squeezed his hand and left the room.

  “Jay’s here, too, isn’t he?” Ava said. “I saw him in the phone book.” Mark nodded. “And Brian? Is he here? Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine. And no, he’s not here. He’s in China. I think. He works for an international company and travels all over the world.” He motioned to the couch. “Have a seat. I’m going to call Jay.” He started to walk out of the room but turned and looked at her. “Why did you wait so long?”

  “It—it’s a long story.”

  “I’ll call Jay,” he said. “And maybe then you can come up with a better answer.” He left the room.

  He’s angry, she thought. And who could blame him? She was obviously hale and hearty. He said he had spent years looking for her. He deserved better from her. Mark had put himself between her and their father more times than she could count. He’d protected her, protected all of them, from their father’s emotional abuse as much as he could, given that he’d been a child, too. But Mark hadn’t been there that last night. No one had. And Ava had paid dearly. And then she’d run. Because she was a coward.

  “Jay will be here in a few minutes,” Mark said, walking back in. “He’s a doctor now. He moved here from Los Angeles about a year and a half ago.”

  “I still see him as a seven-year-old. It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around that.”

  “It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re here, in Aransas City. And that I don’t even know what to call you.”

  “Call me Ava. I’ve been her for a lot longer than I was Miranda Kincaid.”

  He studied her a moment before he spoke. “Did you know I was here?”

  “No. Not until I saw your picture in the local paper. I wondered— I thought you might still be in Texas, but I didn’t know you’d moved here, to Aransas City.”

  “And I’m betting you wouldn’t have taken that job if you’d known it,” he said drily. “Would you have, Miranda— Damn it, Ava, or whoever you are.”

  “It wasn’t you, Mark. It was never you.”

  “I know who to blame,” he said bitterly. “Our father. But hating that bastard doesn’t explain why you never tried to find me or Jay or Brian. Or Mom. Unless you hated all of us, too.”

  Evading the topic of their mother, she said, “I don’t hate you and Jay and Brian. Of course I don’t. How could you think that?”

  “It’s easy, since you never tried to find us. I used to wonder what it would feel like to see you again. I thought I’d be so happy to see you that I wouldn’t care why you’d run or why you never tried to find us. But I do care.” His hand curled into a fist. “It hurts, more than I’d ever imagined. Why didn’t you trust me?”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry.” And the story she told him wouldn’t satisfy him, she knew.

  “He walked out a year or two after you left. Nobody’s seen him since.”

  Ava closed her eyes. If only she’d known that. But by then it had been too late. She’d already taken that irreversible step.

  “You haven’t asked about Mom.”

  “No,” she said in a low voice. “I haven’t. And I won’t.” She didn’t want to know about the woman who’d let her down so badly.

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Mark said. “She was sick.”

  Ava held up a hand. “Please, do we have to get into this now?”

  “We have to sometime. Now seems appropriate to me.” The doorbell rang and Mark went to answer it. She stood up, nervously biting her lip and wondering if Jay would be as angry and conflicted as Mark appeared to be about their reunion. Maybe he wouldn’t care one way or the other. After all, he’d been so young when she’d left he probably barely remembered her.

  She heard them talking, their voices low. Then Mark swung the door wide and a tall, blond, very handsome man stepped inside. He didn’t hesitate but came right to her. “So, do you have a hug for your little brother?” he asked, flashing her the same grin he’d had at seven.

  He hugged her and the tears that had threatened the whole time she was talking to Mark spilled down her cheeks. “You’re a man,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe you’re so old.”

  He just laughed and patted her back.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AVA COULDN’T STOP CRYING. The harder she tried, the faster the tears ran down her cheeks. Finally Mark brought her a box of tissues. As he gave it to her, she thought she felt him smooth a hand over her hair, but she couldn’t be sure. And, as angry and hurt as he seemed, she doubted he had. Why should he have? She didn’t deserve tenderness after what she’d put him thro
ugh. Pulling a tissue out, she blew her nose, then dabbed at her eyes and cheeks and drew in a deep breath, slowly gaining control.

  Tremulously, she smiled at Jay, then sat on the couch before her legs gave way. “I don’t usually cry. Not like that.”

  “You’re allowed,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m a little…emotional, too. So’s Mark.”

  Ava risked another glance at Mark. Emotional? Maybe but anger looked like the primary emotion he was battling.

  Jay and Mark both sat down. Ava noticed Mark chose the chair rather than sit beside her.

  Ava wadded up the tissue and looked down at her hands. “I’m not sure where to start.”

  “At the beginning,” Mark said. “Tell us what happened the night you ran away.”

  She drew in another deep breath. “All right.” She closed her eyes, gearing up to tell a story she’d told to only two people. Jim and Jeri Vincent, the people who’d taken her in all those years ago. The doctor who had saved her life and his wife, who’d loved her from the first. The Vincents, the parents of her heart, had passed away three years earlier, within a couple of months of each other. She still missed them and knew she always would.

  “I was home alone. I don’t know where everyone else was. I think you’d taken the boys somewhere, Mark. Overnight. And Mother—” She broke off and gave a bitter laugh. “I’m sure she was doing something for one of her causes.

  “Father came home and told me to fix him something to eat. I made him a sandwich. A turkey sandwich with Swiss cheese. I still remember that and haven’t been able to eat one since. I can’t even look at one without getting nauseous.”

  She looked at Mark. “You know how he was. He didn’t like the way I made it. He started berating me, calling me useless, cursing at me. He threw the sandwich on the floor. The floor I’d just finished mopping, so he wouldn’t be mad when he came home and found it dirty. Because Mother, of course, was too busy to do it.” She stopped, shook it off. None of that mattered now. “He told me to clean it up because I was so stupid that’s all I was good for.” She put her fist to her mouth, not wanting to go on.