An Unexpected Family

by Jenna Mindel

  “We’re not some project for you to feel better about your life.”

  Cam hadn’t meant it that quite that way. Rose hid some deep hurts and rocky bitterness and it was small wonder. Kurt Dean had abandoned them.

  Rose stood. “It looks like the game is over. I’m going over there.”

  “Mom,” Greg called out and waved.

  She waved back and walked toward him.

  Cam followed.

  At least he could introduce her to the youth director, who happened to be his cousin. If nothing else, he could rely on John to say something good about him. He wanted Rose to trust him. He meant what he said about being a better person and part of that included helping her and her son. Whether she wanted him to or not.

  Chapter Four

  Rose walked toward the volleyball net set up on the beach. The foamy plastic clogs she wore filled with warm sand. When was the last time she’d even been to a beach? Maybe this upcoming Sunday, if the weather held, she and Greg could make a day of it here. She’d even pack a picnic lunch.

  “Hey, Mom, I’m going for a swim with the others, okay?” Greg ran toward her, smiling. His eagerness was a good sign that he liked the program.

  Before she could answer, her son ran into the water and dove straight under, following in the wake of a couple of other boys his age. “Well, yeah, go ahead.”

  “Maybe we should join them,” Cam whispered close to her ear.

  “No. No way.” Rose ignored the little voice inside that disagreed with her quick refusal. The old Rose would have jumped in without a thought to a towel or the fact that she wore jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Hi, Cam.” The youth director’s smile was wide and welcoming.

  “John, this is Rose Dean. Her son is Greg Dean. They’re new to the area.”

  John extended his hand to her. “Right. New owner of Dean’s Hometown Grille. You must have met with my wife when you signed up Greg. He’s a good kid.”

  “Thank you.” Rose kept her eye on her son splashing with the other kids.

  “There’s two lifeguards on duty. One on the beach and one on the raft out there. Is Greg a good swimmer?”

  Rose bit her bottom lip. She’d enrolled him in swim lessons when he was little, but it had been ages since they’d been to any sort of pool or lake together. Greg had gone with her parents a few times near where they lived, but that had been while Rose worked. “He’s passable. I think.”

  “He’ll be fine. It’s not too deep by the swim dock. Maybe seven feet. Cam and I spent many a summer on that dock.” John nodded toward Cam.

  Rose located Greg. He’d made it to the dock and was climbing up the ladder only to jump back in and repeat the process. “So, you’ve known each other a long time?”

  “John’s my cousin,” Cam explained.

  “Ah.” Rose saw a faint resemblance.

  “Cam was a huge help earlier this month with our canoe trip and fishing the river across the bay. This guy volunteered as if his life depended on it and I appreciated the help.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Cam rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m pretty much tied up cooking for Rose. This week and maybe next.”

  Rose flashed him a look. That was news to her. He’d said he’d fill in a few days this week and she thought that would be it.

  John looked at her and then back to Cam. “He’s a guy of many talents.”

  “I’m beginning to see that,” Rose agreed.

  Cam laughed, but it sounded awkward and lacked conviction. “That’s me.”

  John looked at her as he slapped Cam on the shoulder, then he checked his watch. “I’ve got to round up the troops before send-off. Nice to meet you, Rose.”

  “You, too.” Rose cringed when John blew a whistle for his group to gather round.

  She glanced at Cam. He’d volunteered for the youth program at his church. It was for his cousin, so maybe that didn’t count. Or maybe that comment about becoming a better person was true. Cam had made a deal with God and Cam appeared to be holding up his end of the bargain.

  Rose headed closer to the shoreline and waited for Greg. “Thank you for introducing us, although I’m sure I would have met your cousin in time.”

  “You would have, but you’re welcome anyway. I’m going in for a quick dip. You sure you don’t want to join me?” He stripped off his T-shirt.

  Rose did her best not to look at him and failed. Every inch of his exposed skin was golden brown. He looked like a man who didn’t take life seriously. A man who had no one but himself to worry about.

  She stood there like an idiot, unsure what to say or do, her face probably flaming red to boot. “Ah, no. You go ahead.”

  He gave her that smile. That smile that said he knew how he affected her.

  She was sunk.

  Greg saved the awkward moment by running toward her. “Can I go back in with Cam?”

  “Come on, I’ll race you to the raft.” Cam waded in the water.

  Greg beamed. “Can I?”

  Rose sighed. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

  She plunked down in the sand, kicked off her shoes and sunk her feet into the water lapping up on shore. She wiggled her toes and stared at the luscious blue water of Maple Bay that opened into the broad expanse of Lake Michigan.

  Closing her eyes, she leaned back on her hands and tipped her face toward the sun. It was hot, but nice, especially with her feet up to her ankles in water that bordered on cold. She was glad she hadn’t gone swimming. At least, that’s what she wanted to believe. Where had all the fun in her life gone?

  She suddenly felt drops of water and sat up quick.

  “You should come in. The water’s great.” Cam shook his head, sending more droplets raining over her as he slipped back into his T-shirt.

  “It’s too cold.” Rose wiped off the water from her skin before zeroing in on her son. He was jumping off the raft with a couple of boys from the group.

  “Some things never change.” Cam nodded toward where kids jumped and dove into the water only to climb back out and do it again. And again.

  Rose wasn’t so sure about that but watched the activity viewed by a male lifeguard perched in a tall white chair with red lifesaving rings looped on either side. The kid had a smear of zinc on his nose and didn’t look that much older than those he watched.

  “Can you swim?”

  Rose glared at him. “Of course I can, but that doesn’t mean I want to wearing jeans.”

  “It’ll loosen you up.” He grinned at her, completely unrepentant for tossing out such a passive insult.

  “I think I’ll stay tight and dry.” Loosening up led to trouble.

  “This feels like the summers I remember.” Cam grinned as he sat next to her, looking out over the water. “My brothers and I used to come here after school and swim as early as mid-May. It was a game to see who’d go in first.”

  “You must have a lot of memories here.”

  He nodded. “Both good and not so good. We’re the reason there’s a lifeguard on that raft. My brother Darren started a fight with a couple of the Bay Willows kids that ended in an all-out brawl when I was about Greg’s age.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “Did you get into trouble?”

  Cam shrugged. “My dad gave us a good talking-to, but we weren’t grounded or anything. It was just kid stuff. Locals versus Bay Willows.”

  Rose looked at him. “Bay Willows?”

  “A wealthy lakeside summer community right over there.” He pointed in the distance toward huge sweeping willow trees that banked the shoreline.

  “The road with the huge old houses?”

  Cam nodded. “The same.”

  “Maybe it’s not so different up here.” Rose stared at her son on the raft, her brow marred by worry. “I sure don’t want Greg getting into fights.”
r />   “It’s what boys do.” Cam shrugged.

  He didn’t understand that fights were a big deal and could get worse. They had definitely been taken seriously at Greg’s old school. “Not at all what I want to hear.”

  “There’s probably not a mom out there who wants their boy getting into a fight.”

  “Or more fights. Greg had some trouble last year with fighting at school.”

  “Do you know what they were about?”

  “Name-calling mostly.” Rose had been shocked at how mean kids could be when she’d been called by the principal.

  “Sometimes you can ignore insults for only so long.” Cam looked as if he’d been there and done that.

  “That doesn’t make it right. And it’s certainly no example of turning the other cheek.”

  Cam chuckled. “Fights happen.”

  Rose felt her eyes widen. “Please don’t tell me you’re still getting into fights...”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “No, no. Not since I was a kid. Still, you can’t keep the boy in a bubble.”

  “And you know about raising kids, how?” Rose stood and waved Greg in. It was time to go.

  Cam shook his head. “I don’t, but I do have younger brothers and sisters I had to watch over sometimes. I’m one of ten kids.”

  Rose did a double take. “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow. Look, I’m sorry if I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I’m trying to help.”

  “Because of your deal with God.”

  He smiled. “Something like that, sure.”

  Rose appreciated the sentiment, but she wasn’t sure she trusted it, or him. “So, tell me what you meant about filling in as a cook next week.”

  “I have an idea. I might be able to talk my mom into filling in this weekend while I’m gone. She’s good, Rose, and I think she can handle it.”

  Rose felt her jaw drop. “Seriously?”

  “Come on, we can talk about it walking back to the diner. Then, if you find someone you’d like to hire, I can help transition them next week after I get back from my tournament.”

  She nodded, unsure how to take this man and his help.

  * * *

  After they’d returned to the diner in order to review those financials a little more, Cam kicked himself for showing his hand too soon. He hadn’t asked his mom to fill in while he chased his last chance to qualify for next year’s fishing series. He’d have some more time to fill in as cook after that until the next Northern Open qualifier in August.

  “Mom?” Greg’s voice called from the kitchen.

  “Yeah?” Rose answered.

  The boy stopped at the fridge, opened it and searched the insides until finally closing the door. He scanned the counter, looked over the bakery muffins trapped in an acrylic case and kept walking toward them. “Is there anything to eat?”

  “I can make you a sandwich,” Rose offered.

  “Nah.” The kid grimaced. “Had one for lunch.”

  “Soup or mac and cheese.”

  Greg kicked at the leg of the table where they sat. “Don’t we have anything else?”

  “Cereal.”

  Greg slumped into a chair. “What are you doing?”

  “Going over paperwork. Grab a snack upstairs and then we’ll figure out dinner.”

  “There isn’t anything upstairs, I already looked.” Greg had already changed his clothes.

  “Greg...” Rose had that mom tone in her voice, as if now wasn’t the time to discuss their lack of foodstuff. Her cheeks flushed a pretty color.

  Cam checked his watch. It was after five. “Why don’t you guys come to my place for dinner?”

  Rose looked like a deer caught in headlights.

  “Can we, Mom?”

  “I don’t know.” Rose stood, looking flustered.

  “Please?” the boy begged.

  It was only dinner, with her son in tow. Even if Cam wanted to, he wouldn’t make any moves on Rose with her son around. “I have a couple steaks that need grilling. You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “Yes, but—” She glanced at Greg’s hope-filled face.

  He could see her resolve weaken and went ahead and sealed the deal. “We can finish up the returns afterward and get it done, so you’ll know now instead of later.”

  He knew time was ticking for her to make a decision on the Deans’ offer. He also knew better than to give his opinion regarding what he thought she should do. He didn’t want the responsibility that came with all that. He’d blown up his own life; no sense blowing up hers.

  “Okay.” She looked down at her jeans and T-shirt. “Maybe I should change.”

  Cam waved that idea away. “You’re fine. Let’s go.”

  “All right!” Greg dashed for the kitchen and the alley entrance.

  Rose gathered up the financial paperwork. “Let me grab my purse. It’s upstairs. I’ll be right back.”

  Cam nodded and followed Greg. “We’ll be here.”

  Rose tore up the steps.

  He turned to her son. “So, how was your first day at summer youth group?”

  Greg made a face. “We played golf.”

  “Not a golfer, I take it?” Cam had never liked the game, either. Seemed like a waste of time.

  “It’s so boring. We walked forever and had to whisper and not goof around.”

  Cam chuckled. “So, I take it that you went around here.”

  Greg nodded. “Yup. Nine holes. I think it was called Bay Willows.”

  “That’s a nice place.” Although the Bay Willows golf club was open to the public, the course rules were strict and stuffy. Play time must have been donated by a church member, since John couldn’t afford to pay for all of the group to go.

  The kid groaned. “It was awful. Until we went to the beach.”

  Cam laughed.

  “What was awful?”

  “Playing golf,” Greg said.

  Cam looked up as Rose came down the steps. Her purse was big enough to hold those tax returns plus a host of other things. More like a soft briefcase and certainly not the dainty things his sisters carried. Rose hadn’t changed her clothes, but when she reached the bottom step, that delicate fragrance wafted around him. She’d put on more of that delicious perfume.

  For him?

  Nope, couldn’t be. Women did that sort of thing. Monica used to douse herself every time she left the house. Still, what if Rose made a move on him? His skin tingled at the thought no matter how laughable.

  Rose’s gaze challenged him to move out of her way. “Ready?”

  Cam backed up and held open the door. One whiff of her appealing cologne had him rethinking his offer. Maybe dinner at his place wasn’t such a good idea. “After you.”

  Rose gave him a curious look. “So, how far of a walk is it?”

  “Ugh! Are we walking?” Greg’s voice cracked.

  He laughed. “Sorry, bud, more walking. It’s not far, maybe three blocks.”

  Rose looked at her son, alarmed. “What’s the matter with walking?”

  “He did nine holes of golf today.”

  “Greg...” Rose gave her son the classic get-over-it mom smirk.

  Cam had seen that same look often enough from his own mom. Expressions like that must come with the territory of raising kids. He liked kids, but had never thought he’d ever raise any of his own.

  Greg responded in kind. “What? I’m tired.”

  “And hungry,” Cam added with a wink.

  “Yeah. And hungry, too.”

  Rose elbowed him, but smiled. “Don’t encourage him.”

  Cam smiled back. He liked this teasing side of Rose. Maybe too much.

  * * *

  Rose listened to her son’s chatter, but he wasn’t talking to her. He was telling Cam
all about his day at group. They’d always been a team, but he’d been pulling away this last year. Probably natural for a kid his age.

  Seeing her son excited was indeed a victory. Greg had sulked ever since they’d moved in. He didn’t do much but play video games and watch TV when he wasn’t helping her in the diner. She’d split her tips with him and Greg liked the money but he needed fun and the summer program had worked.

  Rose whispered a prayer of gratitude once again. God had provided this opportunity to move Greg into a smaller school system before he hit high school. It was something she’d fretted about for a while and then Linda had left them her diner and Rose’s parents had agreed moving to Maple Springs was a good decision. She’d learned that God heard her prayers. Looking back, He’d answered so many.

  A pair of bright blue eyes slashed through her mind, but she refused to consider Cam as anyone other than a Good Samaritan filling in as her cook in a pinch. Watching the genuine interest he gave her son warmed her heart, but a man like Cam could not be an answer to prayer.

  And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.

  This morning’s devotional verse from Romans came to mind. It reaffirmed that God had her back. It reaffirmed that she needed to quit worrying about everything and pray more. No, trust more. Rose prayed all the time, like a broken record she hoped God wouldn’t tire of hearing.

  As they strolled away from downtown Maple Springs, the coil of tension she’d tried to let go of grew tighter. She looked around at all the pretty houses, the big houses, and wondered if she’d ever afford one of her own.

  Finally, Cam opened the gate of a white picket fence. “Here we are.”

  It was modest as far as homes went in the area, but still beautiful. A turn-of-the-century two-story white clapboard-sided house with black shutters sat in an oversize village lot with overgrown pink roses spilling over the fence. “Wow. This is where you live?”

  “I bought it several years ago.”