“Why don’t you just go to the barn? Use my room. You can even sleep there. I’ll find somewhere else to crash at night. The Winters will be here soon. Martha has always been a good friend to you.”
Jean snorted. “Mrs. Holier-than-thou?”
“Ma, that’s not fair. That family has always shown us nothing but kindness.”
“Not when I’ve asked for a hand. She snubs me in my times of need.”
Stephen leaned his elbows on the car’s window. “I forbade any of them from giving you money. Blame me, not them.”
Jean turned the ignition. “Should have known. My kids are selfish brats.” She shoved the gear into drive. “Well, thanks for nothing.”
Stephen jumped back. “Where will you go?”
“Like you care?” She peeled out of the station and onto the road.
Maybe Sheriff Boyd would catch her speeding through town and— No, he’d not go there.
“See you later, Ma.” He called out, knowing she wouldn’t listen to anything he said until he started speaking her language.
He pulled out his phone and sent a text to John Chogan. Don’t suppose U r up at church 2day?
John’s response came before Stephen buckled himself in.
I can be. Only 15 away.
Yes. Please.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Stephen ran the resin over his bow while waiting inside the recording booth for Ethan and Nick Prater to make the needed adjustments to the sound system. That Prater kid was brilliant when it came to electronics.
E-man rapped a knuckle on the glass window of the recording room to get his attention, then spoke into the microphone. “Let’s try that last bit one more time. I think we have the right settings now.”
Stephen replaced the headphones as the song he’d recorded replayed. When it came to the bridge, he whipped the bow across the cello’s strings, his fingers flying over the neck. His head bobbed along with the tapping of his foot.
When he finished, his vision swam for a moment. He loved that sensation.
Outside, Ethan and Nick whooped and clapped each other’s hands. Giving Stephen a thumbs up, Ethan said, “Come on out. Let’s see what it sounds like all together.”
Stephen set his instrument on the stand, stood with a twisting stretch to work out the kinks, then exited the little room.
“Jeremy,” Ethan called to the youth sitting beside Bekka. “Go see if the moms will come in and listen.”
Outside, his mother Jean and Martha Winters worked together on the front deck, peeling potatoes for Haley. Martha didn’t seem phased in the least over his mom’s chain-smoking habit. If only the smell didn’t revive the craving monster in him. Stephen fought back by keeping his mind focused on his work, Bekka, and staying as busy as possible when she was around. Which, unfortunately, was most of the time, since he’d offered her his room as a place to stay. He’d moved into the tacky flamingo infested camper that young Prater had recently vacated.
Jean still refused to consider rehab, insisting she could kick drinking on her own. Though she was short tempered and complained often, she did help around the place when asked. He remained hopeful that his mom really would straighten up but feared she was only biding her time until something better presented itself.
Bekka set her computer on the coffee table then made her way over to where Stephen stood beside the sound table. When she reached his side, her arms slid around his waist. “Sounded great to me, you rock star.”
He laughed and pecked a kiss on her forehead. Bekka was his lighthouse, Ethan, and Haley his boat, and the more times he visited with the Chogans, the more the Lord became his life vest.
Ethan no longer looked like he wanted to punch him whenever he got a little affectionate with Beks. After living through telling his parents about his elopement with Haley, he’d become much more acquiescent. What Stephen found funny was Martha’s tirade wasn’t because of their secret marriage, but about being kept in the dark about Haley’s sickness.
Martha had hugged Haley while she scolded her son up one end and down the other. “A girl needs a mother in frightening times like that. What’s wrong with you, not letting us know she was that ill? You ever do something insanely daft like that again, I’ll send you outside for a willow switch like I did when you were a boy.” She’d shaken her finger in his face, “I don’t care how old you are!”
Later while his friend sulked while sweeping the deck, Frank Winters joined them outside and told Ethan he was proud of how he’d wanted to take care of his girl. “I respect what you did, son. But don’t you leave your Ma out of the loop again. I’m not too helpful when she’s on a rampage, you know.”
Stephen had to laugh. He loved Martha and Frank. They were simply good people.
At least E-man could now refer to Haley as his wife. She delighted in calling him her husband around the house. They still didn’t wish for the town’s rumor mill to get hold of their secret marriage, so the news was kept in the family. Which included Jean who called Ethan a scamp and told Martha that if he did pull something like that again, she’d hold the boy down while Martha gave the licks.
When the moms came in from the patio, Ethan hit the replay for Stephen’s song.
While they listened, Stephen jotted a few notes about things he wanted to fix. His gaze kept returning to his mother.
She smiled as recognition seemed to hit. “Sweet Child O’ Mine. Isn’t it?”
He nodded.
She rubbed where the tattoos covered her wrist and forearm. She was often twitchy, and he wondered if alcohol was her only vice. He’d held a suspicion it wasn’t, but hated to think what she’d gotten herself involved in.
A couple of times she had disappeared late in the day but had returned a few hours later, saying she needed some fresh air. Nobody was supposed to give her money, so she had nothing to buy a beer or anything else with. He personally bought whatever she needed. Since she never returned smelling of booze, he’d not questioned her too much.
Jean closed her eyes, her head bobbing to the music. “Ah, baby, that’s so good.”
She kind of weirded him out sometimes.
He glanced at Bekka who was also watching her. They exchanged a look, and he knew she had to be thinking the same thing. Her arm slid back around him, and she pressed her cheek to his chest. He held a little tighter to her, praying his suspicions weren’t true.
* * * *
Saturday night, Stephen walked over to the inn ready to pitch in with the dishes when he and Ethan weren’t performing for the guests. Haley had finally managed to hire a couple of extra young people to help out. Sage and Nick wouldn’t be able to work for her once they were married and working full time at the electronics store. They’d been trying to help Haley find new workers and train them during the transition time.
Thankfully, the Blond Tornado’s stress level had been reduced significantly and working in the kitchen was more enjoyable lately. He didn’t have to wash dishes, but Bekka was working too, and he wanted to help return the favor of free room and board.
They were into the first hour of the dinner rush when Stephen’s phone buzzed with a message from Mallory. Call me ASAP. Important.
He excused himself, telling Leon he’d return shortly. On his way out, he ran into Martha, carrying in a tray of dirty dishes. She had the same dark hair and trim build as her two oldest.
“Just where are you off to, sweetie?” Her gray eyes narrowed.
“I need to make a quick call. Just set those beside the sink.”
She smiled thoughtfully and waved her free hand. “Don’t worry. Make your call. I’ll take care of this load for you.” She passed him while he held open the door, but then stopped. “I thought Jean was going to wait tables tonight. Haley promised to pay her.”
“What?” Stephen gasped. “I told everyone to not give her any money!”
“Oh honey, if she works, she deserves pay. I also thought it would be a step in the right direction for her. Might take som
e of the pressure off you.”
He gave a nod, hoping they were right. But that didn’t explain why Jean wasn’t there if Haley offered her a means to get some cash. “Did she earn money last night?”
“Yes.” Martha bit her lip, brows furrowing in concern. “But…. She’s been doing so well. I was even bragging on her yesterday. The way she pitches in and helps. It was like having my old friend back.”
His phone buzzed again. Mallory asking him to not blow her off. This was important.
“I better make this call. I’m sure everything’s fine.” That wasn’t exactly true, but he didn’t want her to worry. Walking away from the crowded deck, he found a quiet spot behind the garage. He tapped Mallory’s number. When she answered music blared in the background.
“Hold on.” Something slammed, muffling the music. “That’s better.”
“Where are you?”
“We came over to the Grunge for some pool and music. Bobby’s cousin is playing in a band. Ethan played with them when I had the Thanksgiving party at my place.”
“That means you’re on a date with Bob Beaty?” His mouth quirked up. If they got together, he’d not have to worry about Bekka coming to her senses and deciding she would prefer to date someone with a little less baggage.
“Just out as friends. Anyway, that’s not why I called.” Music blasted his ear again as Mal told him to hang on a second. When it grew quiet, she spoke in a hurried voice. “Listen, you brought a dark-haired woman into the diner with you this past week.”
“My mom?” A burning started in his gut.
“Small and thin. Answers to the name of Jen?”
“Jean.” He clutched the phone tighter in his grip, the heat rising up to his chest. “Is she there?”
“She’s not only here, but she’s hooking up with Jinkens. That same dope-head that slipped you the drug the other night. I doubt you really want your ma messing around with him.”
Stephen’s teeth ground. “She’s a big girl.” He was done. She didn’t want to change. He’d been a fool to think she might. “If that’s what she wants—”
“Stephen, she wouldn’t know what kind of trouble Jinkens and his pals are. She’s really tipsy. I think you should come up here.”
“I’m working. I—”
“Listen, dog. This has been kept quiet because they’re still investigating. But they found a body in the woods north of here about twenty miles. A local woman. A known user, which is why there’s not been a big deal made about it. But… Stephen, you don’t want your mom messing with these guys. We both know they’re trouble.”
He pressed his head against the side of the garage. “You’re right. Keep an eye on her. I’ll be there in a few. The Grunge, you said?”
“Yes, it’s across from the tourist park. That little building that looks like a shack with a tin roof?”
He’d not visited that bar, but had seen it a couple of times. “Got it. See you soon.” Stuffing the phone in his pocket, he jogged back into the kitchen and searched for E-man. Luckily, he caught him before he left the kitchen with an order and was able to explain why he needed to leave. Mama Winters said she’d take over washing the dishes.
“Let me go with you, Gaines. Haley can handle this crowd. Jeremy is here to cover me.”
“No. I got this. Besides, people are expecting you to play. I’ll be back soon as I can.”
“You sure, man?”
Stephen assured him he was. “My car is at the barn. Mind if I—”
“Keys are on the floorboard.”
He removed the apron and hurried out to Ethan’s little red truck. His plan was to simply march into the bar, grab his mom and get out of there quickly as possible. What he didn’t need was another confrontation with those farm boys. If they’d slipped him that drug, what else did they deal in? Was that why Jean had targeted them? Maybe his assumption about her addictions wasn’t so far off. If so, then her staying here without treatment wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t go chasing after her every time she needed a fix.
Soon he was parking across from the Grunge. A few people milled around the parking lot and the front entrance. Stephen wove through the smaller groups and rushed in the door.
The stench of sweat and alcohol, mixed with smoke, caused Stephen’s stomach to revolt. Memories of his last night in a similar scene like this caused his head to spin. He needed to find Jean and get out quick as possible.
Except he feared she’d not want to leave. What then?
When he entered, Mallory was waiting close to the entrance with Bobby. She grabbed Stephen’s arm and led him toward the back where the shuffleboard and pool tables were. A group of men surrounded a dark haired woman dancing seductively atop a chair. Their rude catcalls burned in Stephen’s ears.
“That’s her.”
“We were about to leave. It’s getting a little rowdy. The owner here is less selective of the clientele. We can stay if you need some help?”
“No. My problem. I’ll deal with it.” He stared at his drunken mother, unable to take it if they were looking at him with pity. He didn’t need anyone else involved in his family’s sordid affairs.
Beaty patted his shoulder. “You sure, man? Why didn’t you bring Ethan? I hate the idea of you dealing with—”
“I can handle this.” He replied a little too harshly. Stephen didn’t care. He wanted them to leave. The humiliation was searing a hole through his chest. He hated the idea of dealing with this, period.
Beaty gave a nod. “You have Mal’s number if you change your mind.” He glanced once more toward Jean as she chugged down another glass of beer. “Good luck, man.”
He needed more than luck but said nothing in response.
When they left, Stephen headed for the bar and asked for a whiskey. Under no circumstances did he think he’d be able to deal with her sober. He blew out a couple of deep breaths, trying to figure out how best to handle this. This isn’t what I want. Lord, I sure hope you’re paying attention like they say because I really need your help right now. Staring down at the gold-hued liquid, he turned the glass between his finger and thumb. And just to show you I’m serious about doing my part… He pushed the shot glass away and turned from the bar.
Marching back into the game room, he fished a couple of hundred dollar bills from his wallet. Waving them over his head, he blew out a shrill whistle. “Hey, over here, lady. This is what you want, right? Let’s go and it’s all yours.”
The startled expression on her face wasn’t quite what he was expecting. She slowly climbed down off the chair to the disgruntled moans of her audience.
When she reached his side, she smacked his hand aside. “Put that away. Are you s-stupid?”
He chuckled. “You’re asking me that?”
“I was jus’ wantin’ some fun. All I’ve done this week is runin’ myself ragged at that work-mill you call a home. A girl needs a bith of enjoyments.”
“You, mother, are not a young girl. Time you started acting your age.” He tucked the bills into his shirt pocket. “Let’s go. You don’t want to hang around this bunch. Trust me.”
She gave a shrug which caused her to stumble a little. “They’re m-more of the kindt I’m used to.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the hostile on-lookers. “Listen, you win. I can get $500 out right now if you’ll leave tonight. Or, no, first thing in the morning after you’ve sobered up. I don’t want to see you driving while intoxicated.”
“Knewd you wanted ta get rid of me. Guess since your lock uped idea d-didn’t work, you’ll pay meh off and send meh on my way?”
“If you don’t want help, there’s nothing I can do for you, Ma.”
“Ma?” Hissed a male voice from behind them. “As in mother?” Jinkens doubled over with laughter. “Tell me this hustler isn’t your son? Oh, that’s… perfect.” He nestled up to Jean, his arm going around her. Stephen tried to look anywhere besides where his grubby hand landed.
>
“Come on, gorgeous. Thought you were ready for some real fun? The boys and I are heading home. This place is dead with that cheap garage band for entertainment.”
Stephen’s vision clouded into a red haze. He grabbed the man’s shirt and shoved him backward. “She’s not going with you, got it?” He spat out a few foul names that brought a sneer from the man. “I should deck you right here for slipping me that dope!”
“Can’t prove anything, hustler. You had a lot to drink that night if I recall.” Jinkens shoved him back. Then his pal moved between them, holding his hands out against both of their chests and shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Jinkens growled, tucking a toothpick into the side of his mouth. “Don’t want more trouble. Let’s get out of here.” He turned to Jean. “Well, baby, you coming? Or will you go home and be a mommy to this overgrown Huey?”
Stephen’s fist clenched, but he kept his temper in check. They were leaving. He’d get Jean home, sobered up, maybe she’d finally see reason. If not, maybe it was time to cut ties.
He turned to her. “Don’t do it. Just come with me and you can have what you want.”
But she wasn’t looking at him. Jinkens had all her attention with his swaggering grin and wink of promised fun, or probably a fix.
“Whaaat I want,” she said to Jinkens with a smoldering look, “is s-someone who actually cares about meh.”
Jinkens leered, rolling the toothpick between his fingers. “Oh, I care, sweetheart. And I understand what you really need.” His brow cocked.
Stephen shuddered. He was not hearing this. Was not in this predicament. Yet, here he was, indeed, standing right between his flesh-and-blood mother and her hook-up. Could his life get any worse? He folded his arms and waited for her to make her decision.
Jean put on a flirtatious smile as she ran her finger down his bristly cheek. “Jus’ you and me, right? You’ll ditch your pals an’—”
“Whatever you want. Sure.” He chuckled.
Raining Fools (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 2) Page 25