“We’ll work something out for the summer, son.”
For a long moment Garrett was silent then he asked, “Dad, why did Mom leave?”
Michael sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t sure how to answer. “We got married too young. We weren’t ready.” The steering wheel, where he gripped it, was wet with his sweat. He couldn’t tell his son about Mary Lou’s drinking problem.
“Do you think she’ll come to one of my baseball games if I ask her?”
“Sure,” Michael answered, trying to be positive. He might be angry at Mary Lou for walking out on them, but he never wanted Garrett to feel his mother didn’t love him.
“Then I’ll ask her today. Maybe I’ll be able to hit a home run. Of course, this time it won’t go through Mr. Moon’s window.”
“Please remember that in the future. That’s one man I don’t want mad at us.”
“Why is he so grumpy?”
“I think, son, he wants to be left alone.”
“Maybe someone hurt him in the past.”
“That’s a possibility.”
Garrett chewed on his lower lip, thought for a moment, then slanted a look at his father and asked, “Did Mom hurt you?”
“Our marriage didn’t work out because we weren’t right for each other,” he answered, feeling as though he were balanced on a tightrope and any moment a stiff wind would whisk him off.
“Can I play one of my CDs?”
Michael nodded, relieved that his son didn’t pursue the topic. He wasn’t quite eight and certainly didn’t need his illusions tarnished.
Garrett played a CD Michael hadn’t heard. After several songs he didn’t want to hear it ever again. But for the next half hour he endured the album, draining his mind of all thoughts.
By the time Michael pulled up in front of Mary Lou’s two-story house, he was feeling better about the meeting. Maybe everything would work out.
Mary Lou opened the door when Garrett rang the bell. She smiled at her son, then drew him to her and hugged him. Michael hung back and watched the scene between mother and son, trying not to feel as though he was losing his son to Mary Lou. Anger he’d held bottled up escaped, carving a frown into his features.
“Y’all come on in.” Mary Lou waved them into her house. “We’ll have lunch out on the patio by the pool.” She took Garrett’s hand to show him the way.
Michael followed. The glass table on the patio was already set for three even though lunch was several hours away. Mary Lou indicated that they have a seat, but Garrett headed for the large kidney-shaped pool.
“You have a slide and a diving board. Wow!”
“I should have had you bring your swimming suit today. Next time you should,” Mary Lou said.
Michael tensed. His frown strengthened into a scowl.
Mary Lou walked to where Garrett stood. “You know we have some time before lunch. I think I can find a suit that will fit you. Do you want to go swimming?”
“Can I, Dad?”
Michael nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His headache had returned, the pain behind his eyes intensifying.
While Mary Lou took Garrett into the house to change, Michael prowled the patio, too restless to sit. Mary Lou wanted to have a relationship with her son. After nearly six years, she suddenly wanted to share him equally. She hadn’t been there when Garrett had gotten the flu last year or when he had gotten into a fight with a boy at school or—Michael shook the angry thoughts from his head. He had to deal with Mary Lou being back in Garrett’s life. He had to deal with the anger and mistrust eating at him.
Lord, please give me the strength to deal with Mary Lou. I can’t do it without You. I know I should forgive her. But I can’t. I can’t forget what she did to Garrett. She wasn’t there for him when he needed a mother.
When Garrett shot out of the house and raced for the pool, Michael said, “Slow down, son. You know there’s no running around pools.”
Two feet from the water Garrett came to a halt, then proceeded to walk the remaining distance to the slide. At the top of it, he waved then plunged into the pool.
“You’ve done a good job with him, Michael.”
He stiffened at the sound of Mary Lou’s voice. Pivoting toward her, he managed to keep himself from scowling at her. “I had no choice.”
“Please have a seat.” Mary Lou gestured toward a chair while she sat down. “I thought for this first meeting, Tom shouldn’t be here, but later he certainly wants to be involved in Garrett’s life.”
“Garrett has a father.”
“I know that.”
“What do you want?” His anger was apparent in his voice.
“Direct as usual. I know you have a right to be angry with me. I walked out on you and Garrett.”
“You left without letting me know where you were. For days Garrett cried for you. I thank God every day he doesn’t remember that. But I do.”
“I was twenty-one and not prepared to be a mother. I couldn’t stay any longer.”
“And you think I was prepared to be a single father?”
“Michael, you’ve always been grounded. I knew you would do what needed to be done.”
“And that’s supposed to make everything okay now?” He looked toward where his son was swimming. His throat constricted with memories of the struggle he had gone through dealing with a two-year-old, trying to be the best father and mother his son could have. He’d tried to make his marriage with Mary Lou work even after he’d discovered her drinking problem. He’d made a commitment to her, and their son needed both of them. He knew he could forgive Mary Lou for walking out on him, but he didn’t know if he could forgive her for leaving Garrett without a mother. He remembered growing up without his mother and the loneliness he’d felt.
“I’ll ask you again. What do you want, Mary Lou?”
“As I told you on the phone, I want partial custody of Garrett. I’m able to take care of him now. I have a good home and a good husband. I have my life together. I haven’t taken a drink in over a year.”
“No.” Michael shook his head to emphasize his answer. “You can see him with me present, but that’s all.”
“I’ll go back to court if I have to.”
The threat hung in the air between them. The pounding of his heartbeat roared in his ears. “Is that what you want—a fight?”
“Hey, Dad, Mom. Look at this.” Beaming with a grin, Garrett waved again, then did a flip off the diving board.
“If that’s what you want, I can’t stop you from going to court,” Michael said, a tightness in his chest that threatened to seize his next breath.
“I want to spend some time with him. Tom and I want to have him stay with us some weekends.”
“No.” Michael clipped the word out, then clamped his jaw shut.
Garrett pulled himself out of the pool and came over to the table, water dripping off him. “Mom, I’m playing baseball next Saturday. Will you come see me?”
Michael clenched the arms of the chair, wanting to snatch the invitation away.
“Of course, I will. Tom and I will be there ready to root for you.”
The smug smile on Mary Lou’s face caused Michael to cringe. Short of making a scene, he would have to endure Mary Lou and her new husband’s presence at the ball game. First thing Monday morning he would pay Robert Davenport a visit concerning his ex-wife’s demands.
* * *
“Helen, what a nice surprise.” Rachel let her friend into the house. “Do you want some iced tea?”
“Sounds divine, sugar. I’m parched. It’s so hot I could fry eggs on the sidewalk outside my café. Of course, I’d probably lose some customers if I did.”
“What brings you by?”
“Do I have to have a reason?”
“No, but who’s minding the store?”
“Amy is, and she’s doing a nice job.”
In the kitchen Rachel poured the tea into a glass full of ice, then handed it to Helen. “I’m glad she’s working ful
l-time. Keeps her out of trouble.”
“If you say so.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“What’s she doing with the other forty or so hours a week? When she isn’t sleeping or working?”
“Helen, spill it. What’s happening?”
“I just hear things from time to time.”
“About her and Kevin?”
“They’re getting mighty serious.” Helen tipped her glass and took several long sips.
“I can’t follow her every place she goes.”
“No, I reckon you can’t. But maybe you should talk with her.”
“You know, the problem with that is she won’t listen to me.”
Helen rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, you do have a problem there.”
“Maybe I should try to follow her. It would probably be easier.”
Helen walked to the kitchen table and looked at the drawings scattered all over it. “Are these for Michael’s boat?”
“Yes. I’m almost finished.”
“Have you seen him lately?”
“I saw him briefly at church, but we didn’t talk.” Rachel recalled the way Michael had kept his distance after being the one to encourage her to attend the service. When she’d glanced at him, a look of vulnerability had touched his eyes before a shutter fell in place.
“You know Mary Lou’s coming this weekend to see Garrett play baseball.”
“No, I didn’t,” Rachel said, disappointed that she had to hear the news from Helen and not Michael. She knew he didn’t owe her any explanations, but the hurt was still there. “I haven’t seen Garrett much since he came back. He came over this morning to play with Shaun. But he raced through here with Shaun so fast I’m not even sure what he’s wearing. They’re out in the backyard right now with the dog they found.”
“So you haven’t found the owner of the Lab yet?”
“No, I’m beginning to feel the dog will be ours. I had the boys put up posters, but no one has called.”
“Well, you know part of the problem is where the boys put up those posters. One is on a telephone pole, but a bush hides it from everyone’s view. Another is in my window, but down in the corner behind the newspaper bin.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Shaking her head, Rachel took a chair at the table.
“What’s going on besides your problems with Amy?”
Rachel ran her hands down her face. “What can I say? Lack of sleep wreaks havoc with one’s body. It all boils down to one person. Michael. I shouldn’t have come back at all.”
“I don’t think you had much choice, Rachel.”
“And I’m not making the best of this situation. Do I stay away from the man like my common sense keeps telling me? No, instead, I tell him I’ll work with him on his riverboat. What’s wrong with me?”
“Do you want the truth or do you want me to lie to you?”
“Michael Hunter is just a friend. He isn’t even the same person I knew ten years ago, and I’m certainly not, either.” With her eyes closed Rachel massaged her temples. Tension clung to every part of her like spider-webs to a haunted house.
“I think you’re falling for him all over again.”
Rachel rose, gripping the edge of the table. “I won’t do that to myself. I won’t do that to Michael, either. We’re just friends.”
Helen bent over the table. “Fine. Then what’s this problem you’re having with sleeping?”
Rachel was so intent on Helen and their conversation that she jumped when she heard the pounding on the front door. “I sure hope it isn’t that man again. He doesn’t know how to use the doorbell.”
“Who?”
“Harold Moon.” Rachel started for the door.
“Hold it. Let me answer it. I’ve been meaning to have a few words with that man since he almost ran me over.”
Rachel couldn’t have stopped Helen if she had wanted.
Helen planted herself squarely in front of the open door. “Can I help you?”
Harold scowled and held up a poster. “This is my dog.”
Helen huffed, shaking her head. “Do you honestly want us to believe you own a dog?”
The scowl lines in his face deepened. “I don’t care what you believe. That’s my dog, and I have the papers to prove it.”
Helen put her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing. “I wouldn’t turn any dog over to you without seeing those papers, and then I’m not sure I could do that to a poor defenseless animal.”
“Look, lady, this isn’t between you and me.”
“I’m making it my business.”
Rachel decided at that moment she better intervene. “May I help you, Mr. Moon?”
“Yes, get this—lady out of here, then we need to talk about Charlie.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn’t leave my friend alone with you if you were—”
Rachel placed her hand on her friend’s arm. “Helen, why don’t you go out back and get the boys? Please.”
Helen stalked toward the backyard, glancing over her shoulder several times. When the door slammed shut, Rachel turned to her neighbor.
“Come in, Mr. Moon.”
Harold hesitated before opening the door and coming inside. “All I want is to be left alone, and yet you and those kids keep getting into my business.”
Rachel felt sorry for the man. He probably didn’t realize how defensive his voice sounded. The touch of vulnerability in his eyes reminded her of Michael’s look at church. “Is the dog named Charlie?”
He mumbled yes.
“How come we’ve never seen you with him?”
“Because there is a leash law in this town and, unlike some people I’ve seen, I abide by it.”
“How long has Charlie been with you?”
“Two years. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I must be certain you’re the dog’s owner.”
“Bring him here. I’ll show you.”
“That’s an excellent idea, Mr. Moon.” At the back door Rachel called to Helen and the boys to bring the dog inside.
The look on Garrett’s and Shaun’s faces made Rachel hope the dog didn’t belong to Harold Moon. She had been afraid of this and wished she hadn’t impulsively told Shaun he could keep the animal if they couldn’t find the owner.
The two boys trudged inside followed by Helen and the dog. Shaun’s head hung down, and his shoulders were slumped. Garrett didn’t look much better.
Harold squatted and whistled. “Come here, Charlie.”
The Lab’s ears perked up, and he loped over to Harold, almost knocking the man back. The dog licked his face, his tail wagging.
Her neighbor glanced up. “Are you satisfied?”
“Yes,” Rachel said before Helen could speak.
Tears glistened in Shaun’s eyes as he said goodbye to Charlie, then came to stand next to Rachel, his chin touching his chest. She swallowed hard. “Mr. Moon, would it be possible for the boys to come over and see Charlie from time to time?”
Shaun’s head snapped up, hopeful eagerness on his face. “We won’t be no trouble.”
Harold looked from Shaun to Garrett then at Charlie.
“Please. They have come to care about your dog,” Rachel added, seeing the struggle in Harold.
“Okay. But not too much.” He started for the door, called to Charlie to follow and was gone before Helen could recover.
The startled expression on her face was still in place as the door shut behind the man. “Did I hear right? He’s invited the boys over. Are you out of your mind, Rachel?”
She shot her friend an exasperated look. “No, the man is lonely.”
“How can you tell?”
“I can.” Because I’ve felt the same way, she silently added, many times.
“Rachel, I don’t know if we should go. He isn’t too friendly.” Shaun stared at the front door, his expression almost as shocked as Helen’s.
“I grant you the man is not very social. He need
s practice.”
“Sugar, he needs more than practice. I don’t think even Amy Vanderbilt could help him.”
“You two will be playing with Charlie out in the backyard. He has said you can come. The decision is yours.”
Shaun conferred with Garrett, their whispers animated. “Okay. We’ll try it.”
When the boys left, Helen felt Rachel’s forehead. “I think the heat has finally gotten to you. It’s fried your brain.”
“You know, Helen, small towns can be a closed society. Has anyone tried to reach that man?”
“Remember? I took him a pecan pie when he first came to town, and he refused it.”
“Oh, my gosh, then he’s a hopeless case.”
“Okay. Maybe he did say something about being diabetic.”
“There you have it.” Rachel decided it was time to shake up her friend’s life. “He’s hurting, Helen. I can feel it.”
“What are you? Psychic?”
“He’s kind to his dog,” Rachel explained, as if that said it all.
Helen walked to the front window and looked at Harold’s house. “He does have one of the prettiest yards in town.”
Rachel smiled as she turned to go into the kitchen. Helen had been alone for too long. And if her friend was busy with her own romance, she would leave Rachel be.
* * *
Rachel stared at Michael as he worked on his riverboat. She watched him move some lumber, sweat beading his brow. She felt the energy seep from her and she grasped the railing to steady herself. He picked up a canteen, took a sip, then dumped the rest over his head. Water dripped from his face, catching the fading sunlight and glistening. All she needed to complete the scene was to hear “Ol’ Man River.”
Michael looked toward her. He grinned and waved. Flushed from the warm greeting he sent her, she clutched her briefcase and strode toward him.
“I have the designs ready,” she said in an all-business tone she was sure contrasted with the blush staining her cheeks.
“Oh, great! That was quick. Here, let me take a look.” His hand touched hers on the handle of the briefcase.
She released her grip and stepped back, perspiration bathing her face. So much for presenting a business facade, Rachel thought. “If you don’t like the design I’ve come up with, let me know what you don’t like about it. I’m sure I can fix it.”
The Courage to Dream Page 10