by Cathy Bryant
She flipped on her blinker and edged into a turn lane. What was there about his past that he felt compelled to hide? The annoyance and hurt she’d felt on Saturday returned. He knew more about her current situation than her family, but clammed up after one question about his.
As she topped the hill, a long snake of cars came into view. Just great. Her frustration mounted, then she remembered her promise to Bo to count to ten when she felt angry. She took a deep breath. One. Two. Three. Where was her cell phone? She rummaged through her purse contents with her free hand, alternately searching for the phone and keeping an eye on the traffic. Her fingers curled around something rectangular. She pulled out a container of breath mints, popped one in her mouth, and continued to dig. Found it! She hit speed-dial.
“Dad, sorry I’m late. I’m running behind, but I’m on my way.” Traffic crept to a standstill, and her air conditioner now spewed the rancid odor of car exhaust. Four. Five.
“I was supposed to be somewhere ten minutes ago.” He sounded grumpy.
Maybe her good news would put him in a better mood. “I lined up two clients in Morganville.”
“Hmph.”
So much for that idea. Six. Seven. “I’m stuck in traffic, but it’s starting to move.” If five miles an hour was considered moving.
“You’re in Morganville? Still?”
She grimaced. “I’m sorry. Listen, Bo needs to be at the ball field at 5:30. Could you get him dressed? That way when I get there I can take him straight to town for his game.” She, on the other hand, would be in a business skirt, heels, and pantyhose. Not fun in ninety-degree heat.
“I’ll get him dressed, but we’ll be at Beth’s. Bye.”
The phone clicked. Mama Beth’s again? Like a cluster of spiders, uneasiness tickled her spine, but she forced it away and scratched her neck. Oh well, it would make Bo less late if she didn’t have to drive to the ranch to pick him up. Relentless questions continued to circle and gave no rest. Over the past few weeks her family had all but deserted her. She saw them at church and Sunday lunch, but that was about it. Perhaps a move to Austin would be best.
Traffic crawled as minutes ticked by. Eight. Nine. Finally, she reached a passing lane and zoomed around the other cars.
Trish’s cell phone buzzed. She grabbed it and pressed the talk button. “Hello?”
“Hey, girl!” Her best friend’s standard greeting, spoken in typical exuberance.
“Delaine, guess what? I just lined up two design jobs.”
“Good. Tell me more.”
Trish quickly outlined the two jobs. “It’s not much, but at least it’s a start.”
“Well, it’s something, I guess.” Delaine didn’t sound convinced, and Trish pictured her doing her nails on the other end, completely bored by Trish’s small-town life. “Do you have any plans for this weekend?”
“No. Bo’s t-ball game is tonight, so the weekend is free. Why?”
“I miss you. Why don’t you bring Little Bo down for the weekend so we can have some girlfriend time?”
Trish thought about the pressure she’d been under. Self-imposed, to be sure, but still it would feel good to get away for a mini-vacation. Maybe Delaine could help her sort through some of her confused feelings about Andy. “Sounds heavenly.”
“Great!”
Realization dawned. Where would she get money for gas and food? She could ask Dad just this once, and when Andy’s new office was finished she’d pay him back. “Tomorrow’s the last day of school, so Bo gets out early. We’ll leave right after I pick him up.”
The conversation ended, and Trish chunked the cell phone onto the passenger seat, sneaking a quick glance at the time. The traffic jam had thrown her even further behind. She pressed the accelerator. Not two minutes later, a siren sounded, and in her rearview mirror red and blue lights flashed.
Her heart sank. Ten.
* * * * *
Andy gazed at the packed parking lot, hands on his hips. Families migrated toward him. Excited boys outfitted in baseball uniforms scurried to their respective dugouts while moms and dads wrestled younger children from their car seats and chatted about their day and what they’d have for supper. He, on the other hand, stood alone, a deserted island in the midst of an ocean.
Where were Trish and Bo? Only a few minutes remained before the game started, and he’d hoped to have time to ask them to the Morganville end-of-school carnival tomorrow night.
Yesterday’s funeral inundated his memory. He released a heavy sigh and studied the ground while pins pricked his eyes. Lester had been more than a friend—more like the father he’d never had—his life a shining example of all that Andy longed to be. And it all started with helping Bo.
Life was brief. Too brief. Lester’s unexpected death proved it. There was no time to squander. He wanted a family, and not just any family. No one would do except a sad-eyed mother with a gorgeous smile, and a pint-sized bundle of father-starved boy. There was no denying the truth. He cared about them both.
Andy removed a rolled-up bag of sunflower seeds from his back pocket and deposited a handful of the salt-covered kernels in his cheek, then sauntered to the dugout to prepare the kids for the game. “Everyone have their gloves and caps?”
A chorus of replies all sounded at once. Hopefully they were affirmative. “Brody, if Bo doesn’t make it I want you to play first base.”
Brody’s typical cocky attitude took over and he swaggered toward a group standing near the dugout entrance. “Hear that? Coach moved me to first base.”
“Brody!” Andy’s sharpened voice pierced through the chatter. “More bragging like that will land you on the bench.”
“Yes, sir.”
Andy’s eyebrows shot up. Maybe he was finally getting through to the kid.
A few minutes later the game got under way. During the first half of the inning, the Eagles managed to shut out the Mariners. Their three line drives to Brody at first base sent the other team to the field in a short amount of time. Trish rushed up with Little Bo just as the Eagles were about to go to bat. Bo’s head hung low and his bottom lip quivered.
“Sorry we’re late.” With red, swollen eyes, Trish looked she’d had quite a crying jag.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just a crazy day.” She huffed a puff of air from her mouth and looked into the distance. “Anyway, I’m going to sit in the stands if you don’t need me.”
If only she realized how much he needed her. Andy watched her walk away, her skirt bouncing around her calves as she gracefully maneuvered the steps in high heels, her shoes clunking against the wooden bleachers. Little Bo slumped against the chain link fence. Poor guy. He’d obviously had a rough day. “Hey, buddy, you ready to play?”
Bo shook his head from side to side, then brought his arm up to his nose and sniffled.
Andy patted his back. “That’s okay. When you’re ready just let me know.”
The rest of the game sped by in a blur. Andy attempted to keep his mind on the game, but it kept straying back to real life. What was going on with Trish and Bo now? Should he even bother asking about the carnival? One thought led to another, and his focus soon turned to his father, the man who’d been responsible for his existence—at least biologically.
He used his sleeve to swab sweat from his forehead. At Lester’s funeral, he’d heard more than one person comment about his father’s “condition,” but just couldn’t bring himself to go check on the man. Instead, when the graveside service ended, he’d expressed his regrets to Denise Hathcock, crawled into the Z, and headed back to Miller’s Creek.
Andy crossed his arms and then pursed his lips to spit out a sunflower seed shell. His father hadn’t bothered with him or Matt when they were growing up, so why should he give a hoot what happened to him?
Instant guilt rained down. God had provided all he needed. Who was he to turn his back on someone who needed God’s grace? The man was his father, good or bad. He’d find the time to check on him, even if it m
eant a trip to Berringer.
The game ended with another big win for the Eagles. Andy congratulated the guys, and after he released them, they immediately charged toward the concession stand with cheers and shouts, leaving sweaty smells in their wake. Bo slouched in the same position he’d assumed for the entire game. Andy plopped beside him just as Trish rounded the corner of the dugout.
“How come you didn’t let him play?” Barely-concealed anger edged her question.
Andy’s hackles rose. “He didn’t want to play. Why were you so late?”
“Work.” She hoisted her chin, her eyes issuing a challenge.
He’d tried to warn her about Bo last weekend. Didn’t she know her son took priority over a stinking job? Couldn’t she tell his reluctance to play was her fault?
A cell phone jangled, and Trish scrounged around in the suitcase she called a purse. “Hello?”
Her gaze met Andy’s and her face reddened. “Can I call you back later? I really can’t talk right now.” Silence descended as she listened. “Yes, sir, I know.” She turned her back, and took a few steps away. “Yes, I’ll put the check in the mail tomorrow.” Trish clicked the cell phone shut and dropped it in her purse. Her shoulders rose then sagged before she rotated to face him. “Bo, let’s go home so we can talk.”
Bo stood and trudged to his mother’s side, and they moved outside the fence. Trish grabbed her son’s hand, then glanced at Andy briefly before they walked away.
He battled conflicting emotions, his desire to spend time with them victorious over the anger. What was the harm of asking? All she could do was say no. “Wait!”
Trish faced him, and Andy jogged from the dugout to join them. “Would you and Bo like to go to the end-of-school carnival in Morganville tomorrow night?”
Bo perked up, his face radiating light. “Just like what we used to do before Daddy . . .” His words trailed off and he lowered his head.
Trish pressed her lips together for a moment. “I’m sorry. We can’t.”
Her son snapped his head up, his brown eyes wide. “Why not?”
“When school’s out tomorrow we’re leaving for Austin.” She sent her son a quick, close-mouthed smile.
Andy’s heart plunged to his stomach. So she’d reached her decision.
Chapter 17
“Get in the car!” The words pelted from Trish’s lips propelled by fury. Would Bo’s incessant whining never end?
Her son burst into tears and threw open the back car door with violent force, then climbed in and slammed it behind him.
Trish unclenched her fingers and released a deep breath, guilt seeping into her soul. Why had she lost control again? She brought a hand to her forehead in a vain attempt to rub away the lines that had become permanent fixtures on her face. It took so little to make her snap lately.
She lugged the suitcase to the back door of the Suburban and hoisted it in place, then climbed in the driver’s seat. Sobs still sounded from the back seat, interspersed with sniffs.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper, Bo, but I need some time with Delaine.”
Bo didn’t answer, but continued to sniff and stare out window. It was gonna be a long drive.
Trish backed out of the driveway and headed toward Austin, a prayer on her heart. Lord, help us have a good time, but more importantly, give me answers. Show me what You want me to do.
A few miles down the road she checked the rearview mirror. Bo was already asleep. Her thoughts turned to the look on her father’s face when she’d asked to borrow money for the trip. Total shock. His words still echoed in her mind. “Are you really thinking about moving?”
She’d assured him the trip was just to visit Delaine, but she hadn’t been completely truthful. This weekend was a test. A test to see how Little Bo responded to city life. A test to see if she could make a go of her design business in Austin. Trish let out a weary sigh and prayed once more for wisdom and direction.
Three hours later they pulled into the driveway of Delaine’s posh two-story, Little Bo awake, but unusually quiet.
Delaine flew out the door and engulfed her in a hug. “Trish! It’s so good to see you.” Her friend pulled away, her face framed by a hip new haircut. “We’re gonna have such a good time catching up.” She knelt in front of Bo. “Hey, kiddo, remember me?”
Bo nodded, one corner of his mouth turned up in an attempted smile. At least he was trying.
“Hope you like pizza, ‘cause the pizza guy just delivered a couple.”
His face brightened. “I love pizza.”
Delaine’s musical laughter filled the air, and she grabbed his hand. “Well, c’mon, then. Let’s go inside and get some. I also picked up a few video games for you.”
He relinquished Trish’s hand in favor of Delaine’s. So far, so good. Or was it? Apprehension nibbled at her brain, but like an evasive mouse, it scurried away.
Later, the pepperoni and supreme pizzas devoured, Trish followed Delaine to the plush parlor for girl talk, suddenly feeling like a guest on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Was Delaine even the same person who shared sleepovers and boyfriend talks? “I love your house, Delaine. You obviously don’t need my services.”
Delaine laughed and plopped down on the cushy couch. “Francesca, the woman who wants to see your portfolio, just redid it for me. Have a seat.”
She relaxed into the overstuffed sofa and inhaled. Everything smelled new and fresh. As much as she loved her Texas ranch house, it would be nice to start over with a clean canvas. To leave the bad memories behind. “You’ve done so much to make Bo feel welcome with the pizza and video games. I really appreciate it.”
“My pleasure, though I must confess I had ulterior motives. I wanted to be able to talk with you uninterrupted. If you don’t mind my saying so, kids can cramp your style.”
Trish reflected on the statement. Did Delaine have a problem with Bo or just kids in general? “So what’s been going on in your life?”
“Well, I’ve met someone.” Her friend’s eyes took on a twinkle. “He’s a plastic surgeon with a thriving practice.”
Girl talk for “He’s loaded.”
“Best of all, he doesn’t want children either.”
Trish felt her eyebrows crank up a notch. “You don’t want kids?”
“Nope. For a while I did, but I’ve seen how they change my friends’ lives, and not necessarily for the better. There are too many other things I want to do.”
Trish sipped her soda. “Such as?”
“Travel. See the world. Build my business. You know, fun stuff.”
In other words, stuff you could do when you didn’t have kids.
Delaine swung her feet up to the sofa, her back against the arm of the couch, her perfectly pedicured toenails inches away. “How are things going with you?”
Trish’s ego deflated. No luxury two-story in a gated community. No plastic surgeon. Just more of the same old routine. Take Bo to school. Try to find work. Wash clothes. Feed Bo. Help him with his homework. Put him to bed. Then get up the next day and do it all over again. “Not much to tell.”
“You mentioned you picked up a couple of jobs in Morganville, right?”
“They’re small jobs, but every little bit helps.”
Her friend’s eyes narrowed. “Still having a rough time, huh?”
How tempted she was to lie. Instead she nodded.
Delaine hugged one of the velvety cushions to her chest. “You really should move to Austin.”
As usual, her friend had wasted no time in applying the pressure. “I don’t know, Del—”
“It would be so much easier for you here. You’d have all the work you want, plus some. Austin has great schools for Bo.” She hoisted a well-sculpted eyebrow, a suggestive smile curling her lips. “I could introduce you to some of my available men friends.”
Andy’s dimpled grin made its way to the front of her memory. “It’s still too early for that, but there is someone in Miller’s Creek.”
Delaine
straightened, her eyes suddenly full of interest. “Really? Who?”
“The new city attorney. His name is Andy.”
“The same Andy Bo talked about non-stop over supper? I got the impression he was Bo’s t-ball coach.”
“He is.” Trish combed a strand of hair behind her ear and curled her legs beneath her. “He’s taken quite an interest in Bo.”
Her friend’s expression changed to soft sadness. “Be careful, Trish. Just because he cares about your son doesn’t mean he cares about you.”
Fire burned in her veins. “I know that.” The words crabbed out of her mouth. Was Andy only interested in being a father figure? She fingered her glass and stared, the dark liquid like the muddy depths of her confusion. Andy’s face had been crestfallen when she’d announced their trip to Austin. He truly loved her son. Of that she had no doubt. But how did he feel about her?
Thankfully, Delaine changed the subject, and the rest of the evening was spent reliving fun high school times.
The next day at a nearby water park, Bo, his hair wet and sticking up in cute spikes, grinned at Delaine as she reclined on the chaise lounge near the kiddie pool. “Thanks for bringing us to the water park, Miss Delaine. This is lots of fun.” He squinted at Trish. “We need to tell Andy about this.”
Delaine peered at Trish over the top of her designer sunglasses. “Honestly, if I hear him mention that name one more time, I’m gonna scream. Are you sure it’s a good idea to let Bo get attached to this man?”
“I’m not ‘tached to him,” protested Little Bo. “I just like him. He’s a nice man who plays catch and takes me horseback riding.”
Trish raised an eyebrow at her friend. “He hears everything. Even when you don’t think he’s listening.”
“Little pitchers have big ears,” whispered Delaine under her breath with a hint of exasperation.
“I’m not a pitcher. I play first base.”
With that last remark ringing in their ears, Little Bo sprinted toward the water slide.
They shared a laugh, then Delaine fanned her face with both hands. “I need something to drink. It’s much hotter than I expected.”