“Look, I have no patience to play games with you, Stephen Michael. I’m your mother. You’re supposed to help your family. Even Ethan will tell you that Bible book he carries around says so.”
“He doesn’t carry it around.” It wasn’t like he was some kind of preacher or Bible thumper. “I’ll help you. But in my own way. I’m trying to get my life back on track. If you want anything from me, then let’s get help together. I’m going to start counseling. You can come with me.”
“Go talk to some psych? Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”
“It’s not like that, Ma. Come on. Stop getting so agitated with me. Listen. Aren’t you tired of running like this? Jumping from guy to guy, only to lose everything time and again?”
“I—I’m fine. Just a little down on my luck. I—I was thinking of going home. Maybe getting a job and a little apartment. If you’d just give me a loan—”
“Absolutely not.” He cut her off. He’d heard this story before. She’d dangle out a little hope with a few promises to do better. They’d give in, wanting to believe her. Within two months, she’d take off again, disappear off the face of the earth. He’d be left wondering if she was dead or alive. Wondering if he’d ever see her again. Wondering if she overdosed on something, or drank too much, would anyone even call him or Beth and let them know? Then she’d eventually show up and he’d curse his luck all over again.
No. He’d had enough of that. “You want my help, then you’ll take what I’m willing to offer. You need to get yourself cleaned up. Dried out. There’s a rehab clinic here.”
“You want to lock me up somewhere? Guess that’s one way to get me out of your hair, right? Label me crazy! Have me committed. Then you can go on with your happy little life and completely forget you even have a mother. I’ll be locked up somewhere and you’ll be free of me.”
His stomach ached. Each accusation twisted another knot in his gut with its hint of truthfulness. How many times had he hoped maybe she’d be arrested and thrown in jail for possession? The longer the better. The ache crept upward. He cursed under his breath, wishing for a cigarette. Maybe one trip to the store wouldn’t hurt. She’d be pacified. Maybe him, too.
A breeze whipped past, caressing the sweat beading on his brow. He glanced up at the churning sky. Another storm heading this way?
Jean continued her tirade. “I’m not going to let you lock me up, buster. I’m your mother. I deserve….”
Her voice faded as a flickering light from the second story caught his attention. Bekka opened the balcony door and peered out, as if testing the weather. Better to just stick your head out the window than to listen to the weatherman’s feeble attempts to figure it out. His breath caught.
Her dark hair whirled around her pretty face. She caught sight of him and winked with a playful smile.
God help me! I can’t let her down again.
Bekka was worth fighting for. He loved her. He wanted a real life with her. Her parents proved to him a couple could last. Pastor Chogan said he and his wife would soon be celebrating their 35th anniversary. Good marriages weren’t a pipe dream.
He glanced up at the balcony once more. Yes, she was worth standing firm for.
So is Jean, came a whispered voice from deep inside him. Ma was worth it, too.
He spun to face his mother. Anger burned, but something even deeper down bubbled up. A song. The surrender melody from Sunday’s worship. His pulse beat to the slow, moving rhythm and he pictured his hands sliding across the keys. Surrendering all. He swallowed down the heated fury.
I really need Your help. I’ve tried fighting this. Her. I… I’m ready to give it all to You, but I’m not sure how. Help me. Stephen bowed his head, wishing the aching in his head would go away so he could think.
“Well?” Jean broke his silent entreaty. “Are we going to just stand out here all day? Waiting for the rain to pour on us? I’m not going to let you check me into some clinic, so let’s stop with that nonsense.”
He waited for the anger to build to an eruption point, but instead it slowly drained away. His breathing flowed easier, the constricting tension eased off his chest. He really wasn’t in this alone. Sure, Ethan promised to stand with him. Haley was trying to help. But Stephen realized something, or Someone, even bigger had this. He glanced at his mother. She’d really become haggard over the past couple of years. Broken. Just like him. They were practically in the same boat. He was ready to ditch that sinking vessel.
He faced Jean again. “I’ll go with you. Ma. Listen.”
Jean grew quiet, her pale blue eyes widening. “What?”
Ethan needed his help, but he’d understand. It would be a bit of a delay in their plans, but if that’s what it took… his family was worth fighting for, too. “I’ll check into rehab with you. We can both get the help we need.”
She started to shake her head until he took a step closer, then another one. When he closed the gap between them, he grasped her hands. He hadn’t touched her in years. When had her skin become so papery thin? Her hands and arms, thin, almost delicate like spring twigs.
“Please?” He bent at the knees so he could watch her turbulent face. “I need help, too. We’ll go through the program together. Get ourselves cleaned up. Maybe even finally become a family again. Wouldn’t you like that?”
“You’d do that? You’d walk away from what you’re doing here and check into rehab with me?”
“Yes. If that’s what it takes,” he breathed, hoping she’d go along with his idea.
Her red lips pinched as she stared at him with narrowed eyes. He had her shade of blue. Jean used to be blond like he and Beth, but had colored it jet black for some reason. Another way of distancing herself from them?
Please say yes, please? He begged her with his unfaltering stare. His thumbs rubbed over the loose flesh on the back of her hands. In that moment, the hate and resentment he normally felt for her waned like an ebbing tide. She was his only remaining parent. They’d both wronged each other in the past. That didn’t diminish the fact she was his mother and he loved her. Perhaps that’s why he also hated her so much. Because he loved her despite everything.
Jean slid her hands out of his grasp. “I’ll think about it. But you know, I think much better with a smoke. Can we go to the store now?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bekka closed the balcony doors with a snap. Eavesdropping was wrong. So wrong. What she needed was something to occupy her attention besides sitting by the window pretending she was working on her computer.
Who could get any work done with such a battle of wills going on below? Poor Stephen. Would he really check himself into rehab? Well, if so, she’d support him one hundred percent on his decision. She fought back a small smile. His sincerity came out this morning. Lord, help him stand strong.
Haley probably needed help getting ready for their parent’s arrival. Bekka closed the top of her laptop. Taking one more glance out through the gauzy curtains, she sent all her happy feelings and love down to him. Then she quickly turned and hurried out of her room.
The moment she opened the door, sweet violin music flowed from down below. When she reached the bottom landing, she found her brother standing in the garden room, his favorite place to practice. Headphones covered his ears. The piece was familiar, but not one she knew the title of. Still beautiful. She loved watching him practice when he didn’t know he was being watched.
The pure joy and passion he had for music always stirred her heart. If only she could find that something to sink herself so deeply into. Maybe such emotionalism was only reserved for a select few.
Bekka shrugged and headed into the kitchen where a most delightful smell wrapped itself around her, causing her mouth to water. Now breakfast… that was something she could sink her teeth into, at least.
“Need help, Haley?” Bekka stopped, finding her secret sister-in-law listening at the back door. “Shame on you, eavesdropping!”
Haley shushed her. “Judge if yo
u will, but I want to know what’s going on. You think Mr. Silently Handsome will tell us anything?”
“No, of course not.” Bekka smiled at Haley’s name for Stephen. She moved closer to join her, then stopped herself. Shame on her! “All the same, come away from there. They deserve a chance to speak in private.”
Haley eased the door closed as quietly as possible. “Kill joy.” She stomped over to the island and stirred the pan of some kind of egg concoction and then began scooping it into flour tortilla shells. “That woman sure is a tough nut. I hope he can be firm with her. Can’t imagine how hard this is for him.” She paused a moment, staring off at nothing. “Well, maybe I can a little. My Momma was a mess, too. Not a drunk, so much. But she was a wild one.”
She placed two of the egg mixture tacos on a plate and slid it across the island toward Bekka. “Try those. You’ll love them. There’s some salsa and cheese over on that counter. Help yourself.”
The violin music had stopped for a moment. Bekka’s ears strained for any other sounds, wondering if, in the silence, she might catch what was going on outside. Maybe she’d been hasty in shaming Haley away from her listening post.
“This smells delicious. What’s in it?” Bekka scooped a dollop of Haley’s salsa over the eggs, liking the spicy flavors it added to a dish.
“Eggs. Duh. Bacon in one batch, sausage in the other. And I add onions, green and red peppers, cilantro if I can find it. Sometimes spinach. And a shot of seasonings. They’re called breakfast taquitos. I like them because I can make a pan full, roll them in foil and they’ll keep for a couple of days. Just unwrap and zap in the microwave. They’re good to go.”
It reminded Bekka of a burrito. She bit into the first one and an explosion of flavors filled her mouth. “Oh wow.”
“I know.”
The swinging doors from the dining room burst open as Ethan dashed in. He slid across the wood floor in his socks, slamming against the island. “I need a haircut, babe. Oh, hey, taquitos!” He grabbed one and shoved half of it into his mouth. He might have swallowed before he told them, “Mom just called. They’re starting out.”
Bekka’s breath caught. They were finally coming. She’d missed her parents and Jeremy. The hunting lodge would be underway. Things would really start happening. Where would she fit into it all?
Ethan rubbed the back of his head. “Think you can set me up with your hairstylist? I don’t want to go back to that butcher of a barber. I just need a keep-Mom-from-completely-blowing-her-top-trim. Know what I mean?”
The back door banged opened as Stephen stormed in. Bekka couldn’t read his stone-faced expression. Without a word, he continued to the living room.
Ethan was just about to go after him when Bekka stopped him. “I want to talk to him.” She followed Stephen into the living room where he was gathering his wallet and keys.
“What’s going on?”
Haley and Ethan followed her anyway.
He slipped into the rumpled shirt he’d worn last night while he turned to face the three of them. “She wants me to take her to the store. I’m going to get some gas for her car so she can get herself around.” He explained the offer he’d made and how so far she’d rejected it. “Whatever it takes, right Winters?” He directed to Ethan. “When we finally figure out what we want out of life, we do what’s necessary to make it happen. You taught me that.”
Bekka’s throat clamped shut when her brother pulled his best friend into a brotherly embrace. “That’s right. I’m here if you need anything. I mean it.”
Stephen patted Ethan’s back. “Thanks, I better get going. I’ll catch up to you at worship practice.”
“Dude, don’t worry—”
“No. I want to play.” Stephen found his wallet on the end table and slipped it into his back pocket. “And I’ll be here tonight to help. Promise.” He added to Haley, giving her arm a quick squeeze.
When he started to fold the blanket he’d used last night, Haley snatched it from his hands. “Go and do what you gotta do. Call us if you need anything. See you later, pumpkin.”
He gave her a grateful smile then turned to Bekka and motioned for her to follow him to the door. “Look, hon, I’ve asked for you to be patient with me too many times.” She was about to protest when he stopped her. “No, listen. I’m going to do what’s best for all of us. But it might slow up a few plans I had in the making. I hope—”
She couldn’t take it a moment longer. Grabbing his collar, she pulled him to her in a kiss. She didn’t even care if her brother shot her the stink-eye or not. Stephen’s arms went around her, pulling her tight against him as he kissed her back. When she finally was able to pull away, she smiled up at him. “You’re worth the wait.”
Stephen cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Rebekka Marie Winters. You’re worth whatever it takes, too, honey.” His lips brushed her forehead, then once more across her mouth before he released her and hurried out the door.
Bekka hugged herself, feeling like she might fall apart if she didn’t. She closed her eyes, sending up silent prayers for him. An arm circled around her shoulder. “God has him, Beks. We’ll do what he says and pray.”
One more set of thinner arms circled them both. “No better time than this moment. Let’s get to praying. He’s gonna need it, I betcha.”
And that’s what they did, each taking a turn petitioning the heavens for Stephen Gaines.
* * * *
Stephen pulled up behind Jean’s battered Dodge Charger. Mud and dirt covered most of the white body. The tires looked worn and ready to pop. Just like his patience.
Shoving the gear into park, he kept his hands on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead. A cloud of smoke floated around his head. He tried to hold his breath but failed. “I’ll put the gas in for you.” He bolted out of his seat and headed around the trunk for the fuel container, hoping she’d not follow him.
Nothing he’d said so far had made one bit of difference. Jean knew he and Beth had come into their inheritance, and she wanted her cut. Because Dad had committed suicide, there’d been no insurance money. Seemed she still resented that, even after all these years.
He held in any accusations that she probably played a big part in driving her ex-husband over the edge. It made no difference now. She’d made her choices. He’d made his.
Stephen leaned against the fender of his mother’s car and closed his eyes behind his dark shades. Help me, please help me.
He didn’t know what exactly to ask for. He wanted her to leave, but he wanted her to stay.
He wanted nothing to do with her, but he wanted her to be part of his life again.
He breathed out another curse, one of many he’d whispered throughout the day.
Maybe he should give in and let her have a few hundred bucks. Except he knew that soon as she blew through it, she’d hit on Beth. At least while she was here with him, his sister was safe. He’d sent Beth a text while Jean was in the store buying her cigarettes, warning her that their mother had reared her ugly head again. Beth’s response was short and to the point.
Thx 4 warning. Going dark.
Her way of letting him know to not bother calling her, she’d call him. Maybe. Most likely from a new throw away number. She’d probably find a friend to stay with, if she wasn’t already camping in someone’s spare room. She knew how to disappear when it was necessary.
Lord, I hate how our lives have frazzled. If there’s any way to find healing, I’m willing. Just show me what I need to do. Might need to make it crystal clear, I can be a little thick sometimes.
The fog of smoke surrounded him moments before her rasping voice broke into his silent plea, “Well, what have you decided?”
Stephen jiggled the can until the last few drops escaped. “Told you. If you want help, let’s check into the rehab. If you don’t want to do that, then…” He shrugged and recapped the tank before returning the container to his trunk.
“Just give me some money and I’ll be out
of your hair.”
“No.” He checked his watch. “If I hurry, I might can still make practice. If you want to follow me back into town, I’ll fill up your car. Then I’m done.” Without waiting for a response, he climbed back into his car.
Jean caught his door before he closed it. Her ratty dark hair blew around her indignant face. “Have you really become so selfish? Guess I’ll just have to pay a visit to my daughter. She’ll—”
“I’ve already warned Beth that you’re here and what you want. Good luck. She’s probably up in Canada by now.”
Jean kicked at his car. “I have ways of finding my children. You two think you can throw me away with the trash.”
“You did that to yourself, Mom. I have to go. I’m late.”
“For what?”
“Worship practice. I play the piano on Sundays.” He yanked the door from her grasp, tipped his head in a good-bye and pulled the Mustang back onto the road.
Maybe he needed to call the Chogans. They told him to not hesitate to reach out to them if things got worse.
It didn’t take long before he spotted her car in the rear view mirror. Jean was an opportunist. She’d take what she could get, which meant she would probably stick around mooching off anyone willing to cut her a break. He rubbed his forehead, truly stumped on what to do.
Ethan’s red pickup sat in the church parking lot when he pulled in across the street to the station. Jean remained in her car, a steady stream of smoke pouring out the driver’s window. After he filled both tanks, he approached her vehicle and peered in the window.
“If you want to return to the Bed and Breakfast, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Haley will probably let you stay, but not if you insist on puffing away like a chimney. My room is across the field at the barn. The doors are always open. Also no smoking inside, but outside is fine.”
“I could use a shower. Change into clean clothes.”
His voice gentled. Maybe she just needed a bit more time to warm up to his idea. He needed to be patient. That’s what he was asking from Bekka. Least he could do was to extend the same to his own mother.
Raining Fools (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 2) Page 24