Читать книгу A Family of Her Own - Brenda Novak - Страница 9

KATIE BLINKED AT the ceiling, wondering where she was. Letting her gaze sweep the room, she took in the white eyelet drapes, the faded roses on the wallpaper and the white finish on the dated furniture. Then it came to her. She was at Granny Hatfield’s, staying with Booker Robinson, the Harley-riding ex-con who’d made the whole town groan when he moved in, the guy who’d ruined her reputation before she’d ruined her life. Her parents hadn’t been pleased when she became engaged to Andy; their only consolation was—in her father’s muttered words—“At least she didn’t end up with Booker Robinson.”

Covering her eyes, she chuckled mirthlessly. In an ironic twist of fate, she was with Booker. Because he’d been kinder to her than her own parents….

But she wouldn’t stay with him long. She’d find herself a job and move out. She might be single and pregnant, easy pickings for the gossip-hungry, but she was going to get back on her feet.

Grabbing hold of that fresh resolve, she climbed out of bed. Then she caught herself in the dresser mirror, saw the way her short blond shag was standing up and noticed the dark circles around her eyes and the paleness of her skin, and sank back onto the bed. Who was she trying to kid? No one was going to hire a woman who looked ill and wasn’t allowed to stand for any length of time. She couldn’t work at the library, or the convenience store, or even the Arctic Flyer. She couldn’t wait tables at Hokey Pokey’s Ribs and Barbecue. She couldn’t even do day care because of the lifting, not to mention the possibility of picking up some virus or other infection that could harm the baby.

How was she going to survive until the pregnancy was over?

Andy should be helping her, she thought with no small amount of resentment. He was just as responsible for her situation as she was. But “responsible” was about the last word anyone would use in connection with Andy. She knew better than to even contact him. The best she could hope for was that he’d stay out of her life. If she went back to him, she’d only sit in their small San Francisco apartment day in and day out—an apartment that had no furniture now—wondering if she was going to be evicted while he was out snorting cocaine and chasing other women.

She’d sunk pretty low. But she hadn’t sunk low enough to go back to that….

A knock on the door startled her, made her heart thump loudly, because she assumed it was Booker and felt reluctant to face him in the light of day. “Yes?”

“Booker told me to bring you this,” Delbert said, entering with a tray of oatmeal, toast and jelly, Bruiser at his heels. “We’ve gotta go to work. I work for Booker,” he added as though he’d never mentioned it before. “I fix cars.”

“That’s wonderful,” she said. She was truly happy for Delbert, that he’d found someone who was so good to him. But Booker liked her considerably less and made no secret of it. “Do you think he could use any more help down at Lionel & Sons?”

Delbert nearly tripped on the rug, so she helped him steady the tray. “You want to fix cars?” he asked.

Katie put the tray on the nightstand. “I’d do anything at this point.”

“I change oil and air filters and spark plugs. I could show you how.”

“I was only joking,” she said. “I don’t think I’ll fit beneath a car very much longer.”

“Oh.” He gave her a puzzled look, but didn’t ask why. He just stood there, blinking at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Booker said to tell you—” his brow furrowed in concentration “—he said the keys to Hatty’s old Buick are on the counter, if you wanna go anywhere today.”

“How nice of him.”

“Booker’s never hit me. Not once.”

That announcement made Katie wonder how Delbert’s father had treated him. But she wasn’t about to ask. She wasn’t sure she could take the answer right now.

“Delbert, let’s get going,” Booker called from downstairs.

“Tell Booker thank you,” she said.

“Sure, Katie. I’ll tell him.” Delbert gave her a sloppy grin as he and Bruiser hurried from the room, obviously anxious to reach Lionel & Sons.

Outside, the engine of Booker’s truck roared to life. Katie stood at her window and watched the dog jump in the back before they drove off. Then she ate, grateful for the meal in a way she’d never been grateful for such simple things before, and showered. Without Booker, she wouldn’t have had any clean clothes this morning, she realized. He’d been the one to retrieve her suitcase from her parents’ porch.

Carefully folding his sweats, she set them aside, wondering if her mother had gone out looking for her last night. If so, why hadn’t Tami contacted Booker? Surely she’d seen him at the end of the walkway. If her parents cared about her, if they were worried about her at all, they would’ve called to see whether—

A job. She needed a job, she reminded herself, steering her thoughts away from her parents’ hurtful behavior. If she didn’t remain focused on practical considerations, the sting of their rejection would quickly immobilize her.

Opening the larger of her two suitcases, on the floor because it was too heavy to lift onto the bed, she tried to decide what to wear. When she lived in San Francisco, she’d combed through the factory outlet stores at least once a week and found garments worthy of New York, Paris or Milan, all for pennies on the dollar.

But she’d had to sell most of her clothes, along with her shoes. Gone was the Jones of New York sweater with the faux fur. Gone was the low-riding, tight-fitting pair of Bebe jeans with the trendy dirty-denim look. Gone were the cool jackets, Ann Taylor blouses, Kenneth Cole boots and fine Italian leather heels.

Good thing she didn’t need much in Dundee. Wranglers were considered high fashion in this part of the country.

That brought her back to the issue of earning a living. The sooner she found work, the sooner she’d have options. The sooner she had options, the sooner she could stop taking help from Booker.

Unfortunately news of her illegitimate pregnancy was going to travel fast, which would definitely have a negative impact on her chances. Especially in a town so conservative and so small.

Hoping to beat the gossips, she pulled on a simple black dress so she wouldn’t look quite so silly wearing the sandals that were her only shoes. Then she put on some makeup and fixed her hair in a much more conservative style than she generally wore in the city, and located the key for Hatty’s Buick.

“Welcome back to Dundee,” she whispered.

KATIE SPENT THE MORNING searching for a job. She approached the real estate office on the edge of town, hoping to get a receptionist position or a secretarial job, but Herb Bertleson, the broker, wasn’t hiring and his only agent, Fred Winston, couldn’t afford any help. She tried Lester Greenwalt, an insurance agent located not far from the real estate office, but he was content to have his daughter answer the phones and his wife do the filing.

After Greenwalt’s office, she visited the local elementary school to see if she could take lunch tickets or something. But the school year was more than half over and all they needed was a temporary crossing guard because Rosie Strickland had come down with mononucleosis a few days earlier. Standing out in the rain and cold was something Katie couldn’t do while she was pregnant, so she moved on, but the answer was the same everywhere she checked.

Jerry’s Diner was at the very end of her list. When she’d stopped by Finley’s Grocery a few minutes earlier to see if anyone there had heard of any openings, Louise, the cashier, told her to talk to Judy at the diner. Louise said she heard Judy’s daughter was quitting her job at the video store to go back to school. Katie wondered if working there would require her to be on her feet much and if the position would pay her enough to get by.

Managing to squeeze the boatlike Buick into the only parking space available at the diner, Katie got out.

“Isn’t that Hatty’s car?”

Katie shaded her eyes to see Mary Thornton standing beneath the small overhang of the restaurant. “Hi, Mary,” she said. Six years older than Katie, Mary walked and talked as though she considered herself some kind of perennial prom queen. But she was really just the divorced mother of an eleven-year-old boy—a woman with the single-minded ambition to capture one of Dundee’s eligible bachelors.

“Don’t tell me you’re back with Booker,” Mary said, eyeing the Buick.

Everyone who saw the Buick was going to jump to the same conclusion. Katie hated that. She had enough disadvantages already. But she needed some way to get around. She couldn’t seclude herself at the old Hatfield place for long. Not if she planned to survive. “Booker and I are just friends. He—he’s helping me out.”

“Booker’s not the type to do favors for free.” A taunting smile curved Mary’s freshly glossed lips.

“How do you know?” Katie asked, but before Mary could retort, Mike Hill strode out of the restaurant. He was in the process of returning his credit card to his billfold, but when he glanced up, his face lit with recognition.

“Katie! I didn’t know you were back.”

While she was growing up, the sight of Mike Hill had always made Katie’s knees go weak. Even when she was only five or six, she’d stand on her front lawn and wait for him to come by on his bicycle while he was delivering papers.

He was still the handsomest man she’d ever met, in a predictably pleasant, hometown sort of way. With the long thin body of a basketball player, he was always clean-shaven and kept his fine brown hair neatly trimmed. Better yet, his green eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, which he did quite often—far more often than Booker, for instance. But as attractive as he was, he was thirteen years her senior. He’d always treated her like a baby sister. And she was through with men. At least for a few years.

“Hi, Mike,” she said. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. What brings you to town?”

The fact that she was broke and pregnant came to mind, but Katie knew he’d find that out soon enough. “I moved back yesterday.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really? So you’re home for good?”

She nodded.

“That’s great.”

In the past, his words would’ve left Katie stewing over the sentiment behind them. “Great” as in he missed her? Or “great” as merely a generic “that’s nice”? Today she took them at face value. Cynicism had its advantages.

“It’s good to be back,” she lied. Then she realized that Mary hadn’t moved and was looking up at Mike as though—as though they were together. When Katie left town, Mike had been dating someone from McCall. They’d been seeing each other for months, so everyone had expected them to get married. That must not have worked out. But Mike was thirty-eight and had never even been engaged, so maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised. “You two just have lunch?” she asked.

Mary smoothed her hands over a suit that was, to Katie’s trained eye, a designer knockoff and not nearly as impressive as Mary seemed to think. “We did.”

Had Mike picked up where his brother, Josh, had left off when Josh married Rebecca instead of Mary? The thought made Katie feel ill even though she no longer had designs on Mike. Mary had her better moments—when she’d helped Katie start the Senior Singles Club two years ago, for instance—but on the whole, Katie had never liked her much.

Mike glanced at his watch. “We should go. I promised Slinkerhoff I wouldn’t keep Mary over an hour.”

“You’re still working at the law office, Mary?” Katie asked.

“We’re taking a deposition this afternoon,” she explained, as though that made her someone important.

“Who’s getting divorced?” Katie asked. Everyone knew Slinkerhoff’s practice survived on marital unrest. When she’d passed his office a few minutes ago, she’d half expected to see a sign posted near the door saying, “Leave him now. Ask me how.”

“This isn’t a divorce case,” Mary said. “It’s a criminal trial.”

Katie shifted her purse to the other arm. “Slinkerhoff is moving into criminal law?”

“His nephew is accused of robbing two houses in your old neighborhood,” Mike explained.

“His nephew?” Katie responded. “I didn’t realize he had a nephew.”

“You’ve probably seen him around,” Mike said. “He’s got to be twenty-two.”

“Oh.” Katie thought the mother of Slinkerhoff’s young nephew would be much better off hiring an attorney from Boise to defend him, preferably someone who knew what he was doing. But who was she to offer advice? She only knew that Warren Slinkerhoff and his sidekick, Mary, were the last two people she’d trust with the freedom of anyone she loved.

“You planning to go back to work at Hair and Now?” Mike asked.

“No, I’m looking for something else.” She kept her answer vague because she didn’t want to face Mary’s reaction to the truth.

“That’s too bad.” He pulled his cowboy hat a little lower. “No one cuts hair as well as you do.”

“I could come out to your place and give you a trim once in a while,” she said. Staying on her feet for only one or two cuts certainly couldn’t hurt the baby, and Lord knew she needed the money.

He grinned. “That’d be great. Give me a call once you get settled.”

Their exchange was simple enough, but Mary’s eyes narrowed and her gaze suddenly dropped to Katie’s feet. “Are you wearing sandals for a reason?” she asked.

“I bought them in San Francisco.” Katie smiled as though her shoes weren’t completely out of season.

Mike shrugged indifferently. “They’re nice.”

Mary chuckled and shook her head. “There’s snow on the ground, silly,” she said, then she tugged on Mike’s arm, scarcely giving him a moment to wave, and they were gone.

Katie watched them drive away in a new champagne-colored Escalade before trudging into the restaurant. “What do guys see in her?” she muttered, but when the bell jingled over the door, she promptly forgot about Mary. She needed some sort of break. And she hoped to find it here.

The place was packed, as usual. Several waitresses wearing maroon uniforms bustled around, carrying plates back and forth, getting drinks, taking orders. Judy was busy wiping the coffee area, so Katie sidled up to the bar between an older man and a woman with a young girl. Nothing at Jerry’s had changed since she’d left. Katie felt momentarily relieved about that. She wanted to go back in time….

“I’ll be with you in a second, hon,” Judy said in her deep smoker’s voice and rushed off, carrying a stack of menus.

Katie toyed with the sweetener packets next to the napkin-holder, trying to distract herself from the food coming out of the kitchen. The smell of onion rings, French fries and burgers was making her stomach growl. But she wasn’t about to spend her last twenty bucks on lunch when she’d already had breakfast.

Judy returned a moment later, her weathered face breaking into a smile. “So our girl’s come home, huh?” she said. “When did you get back?”

“Last night.”

“How long you planning to stay?”

“For a few months, at least.”

“Great.” She wiped up a spill on the back counter, near the hot chocolate machine, then tossed her cleaning rag into the sink and pulled a pad and pencil from the pocket of her apron. “What can I get you?”

Jerry’s Giant Baconburger sounded good. Katie nearly broke down and ordered it, but $5.85 was $5.85. “Nothing, thanks. I stopped by to talk to you, if you’ve got a minute.”

Judy’s shoes made a sticking sound as she moved closer. The floor obviously needed to be mopped, and the lamp-shades needed dusting. But folks ate at Jerry’s because the prices were right and the portions were large. They weren’t excessively concerned with cleanliness. “What’s up, kiddo?”

The man on Katie’s right had his face close to his plate, devouring an open-face turkey sandwich. The child on her left picked at a club sandwich. Both meals looked so good. Forcing her attention away from the food, Katie said, “Louise told me she heard your daughter might be quitting her job over at the video store. I was wondering if that’s true.”

“It better not be,” she said. “She’s got to buy diapers and formula for Nathan.”

“So she’s not going back to school?”

Judy shielded a quick cough. “No. She talks about it constantly, but she blew her chance at school when she got pregnant. If she’s going to live with me, she has to contribute.”

“I see. Of course.” Katie tried not to let her disappointment show, although she had no idea where she could turn next.

“You looking for a job, kid?”

“Yeah.”

“What about doing hair?”

“I—I can’t do hair right now.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t be on my feet.”

“That pretty much narrows things down.” She shoved her pad and pencil back into her apron.

Katie blinked several times, once again fighting tears. She wanted to say, “Everything will be fine.” Only the words wouldn’t come.

Judy moved closer. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Katie knew she could lie and keep people guessing for a few weeks, or at least until she began to show. But there wasn’t much point, not anymore. She’d already applied for every job available and been repeatedly turned down. And everyone was going to find out eventually. Especially if her mother and Booker were sharing what they knew of her situation. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “My doctor told me I could lose the baby if I don’t take things easy.”

Leaning on the bar, Judy lowered her voice. “Where’s that fella you married?”

“We never actually tied the knot.”

“Oh.”

“He’s still in San Francisco.”

“And I take it he’s not coming back.”

“No.”

Her face registered compassion. “Well, I’ll put the word out that you’re looking for a job.” She straightened. “But I’m afraid there’s not a lot around here.”

Katie forced herself to get up and step away from the counter, even though it felt strange to leave the diner hungry. “I know.”

“Can’t your folks use you at the bakery?”

“No…er…not right now.”

“If I hear of somethin’, where can I reach you? Their place?”

Katie shook her head. “No, I’m staying out at Hatty’s.”

One eyebrow lifted toward the black roots of Judy’s bleached hair. “You mean Booker’s? You’re staying with Booker?”

Katie sighed. “Yeah.”

An appreciative smile stole over her face. “If that’s the case, I’d give just about anything to be in your shoes.”

“It’s not like that.” Katie felt her cheeks heat. “He…he’s just helping me out for a little while.”

Judy fanned herself as if the mere thought of living with Booker was enough to give her heart palpitations. “Well, I know I’m not the only one who’d love to trade places with you.”

“I’m not interested in a man.”

“Are you crazy? Even Booker? I’ve never seen a better pair of bedroom eyes.”

Booker’s hands weren’t bad, either. Katie knew from experience the havoc they could wreak on a woman’s body. She’d been a bona fide Goody Two-shoes before she met him, yet he’d broken through her reserve. He seemed to know moves the average man, like Andy, didn’t. But at twenty-five she’d already made more than her share of mistakes. If she’d learned anything, she’d learned that life wasn’t about personal gratification. It was about deeper things, lasting things, and it was time for her to grow up and start building the right foundation. “I don’t care about bedroom eyes. I’m going solo for a while.”

“Then I suggest you move out of Booker’s house immediately,” Judy said. “Because the bedroom’s where you’re going if you stay.”