Читать книгу Family in His Heart - Gail Gaymer Martin - Страница 8

“Gary. You’ll be late for school.”

Nick listened and heard nothing.

“Gary!”

He stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting. He didn’t want to play the silent game with his son. That’s what he’d received this past year. He’d tried everything to no avail and his frustration had grown to bitterness.

“Gary!” His voice boomed up the staircase.

No sound.

Gary hadn’t awakened him last night when he arrived home. The recliner had been Nick’s downfall. He’d fallen so sound asleep he hadn’t heard Gary come in. When he woke, he’d checked his watch—midnight—turned off the TV and hurried upstairs to check on Gary.

When he peeked in his room, it was dark, but he’d seen Gary’s bumpy form and felt relieved. He’d actually gotten home. Still he’d been tempted to wake Gary and find out what time he’d come in, but doing so would have been antagonistic. The situation had taught him a lesson. Nick realized he needed to stay awake if wanted to be a good father—his definition, not Gary’s. To Gary a good father was one who doled out money, said yes to everything and never asked anything of him.

Nick gave another yell up the staircase, then shook his head, grabbed the banister and took the steps two at a time to the top. He charged down the hallway and blasted his fist against his son’s bedroom door. “Gary!”

When he heard no sound, his pulse lurched. What was wrong? Tragedy happened in the blink of an eye. He’d experience it with Jill. The memory flooded him. God wouldn’t let something happen to his son. Please, he whispered. He pushed the door open, his pulse throbbing in his temple.

In the muted light, Nick saw the tangled blankets and same lump. His pulse escalated and he felt weak.

“Gary.” He stepped over shoes and clothing in clumps on the floor and grasped the blanket. He pulled it back. Empty. A pillow and twisted blankets created the form he’d seen. Intentional? He had no idea, but the possibility stabbed him and he prayed the lump had only been caused by Gary’s usual messy treatment of his room.

Nick’s stomach churned, but as he stepped back, he gathered his wits and strained to listen for the shower. Gary always took a shower in the morning. He darted to the bathroom farther down the hall. The door stood open. Struck by reality, Nick knew Gary hadn’t come home last night.

He slammed his fist against the bathroom door-jamb. He felt as if he and Gary lived in two different worlds and nothing could unlock the door. At the same time, fear spiked his anger and his pulse kicked in again. A boating accident? Car accident?

Nick charged to the staircase and at the bottom of the stairs, he stopped and got a grip on himself. Yesterday Gary had mentioned Phil. Nick knew Phil. He even knew the boy’s dad. He released a ragged breath, pulled up his shoulders and headed for the phone.

After finding the number in the phonebook, he punched it in, then waited as the telephone rang. No answer. His hope faded until he eyed his watch again. Phil’s dad had probably left for work and his wife had perhaps driven the boys to school. When the answering machine clicked on, he started to hang up, then heard a hello.

“This is Gary Thornton’s father. I—”

“The boys left for school already, Mr. Thornton.”

“Then Gary did—” He stopped himself, ashamed to admit he hadn’t known that his son had spent the night. “Thanks. I’ll catch him later.”

What kind of a father didn’t know where his kid was? He gripped the receiver, wanting to throw it through the wall, then hung it up, knowing he was angry at himself as much as Gary.

Whose fault was their rotten relationship? Maybe his. He should ask for names and phone numbers of all his son’s friends. He sank onto a kitchen stool and lowered his face in his hands. Lord, give me direction. Help me be the father I should be. I don’t know what to say to Gary or what to do that won’t bring a sneer.

Nick rubbed his face, his appetite gone though he’d eaten little the night before. He pushed away the coffee he’d made, turned off the pot and headed outside. He’d have to deal with the situation the only way he knew how.

Walking down to the boathouse, Nick drew in the spring air, wishing he felt as filled with fresh expectation. Things were growing around him, but his life seemed to have died in a stagnant pool of regret. He could see shades of green burst from the trees after the starkness of winter and he longed to have his life fresh again. He yearned for hope of something new and shining in his life.

Instead, he faced an angry son and an empty bed. Jill had been gone for three years and though their marriage had its bad moments, Nick had prayed they would stick it out and bring their relationship back to life. Since her death his loneliness had never faded, the deep empty space in his heart filled with regret.

Turning the key, Nick heard the motor purr. He steered to the shoreline and docked in Hessel. He located his SUV behind Lindberg Cottages and as he pulled away, he let his attention settle on the Harbor Inn and on the pretty woman with the long, golden-streaked hair. Rona. A pretty name for a pretty lady.

He’d thought of her last night, sitting alone in the quiet house. Why had he been drawn to her? Maybe her generous offer to help Bernie had triggered his admiration. She’d captured his interest and it unsettled him. No woman had cut through his anguish until yesterday and Rona had done it without trying.

Heading for Cedarville and the school, Nick’s mind darkened to his situation with Gary. Being a good business man, he wondered why he couldn’t transfer the talent to raising a son. Each situation took control, planning and wisdom. He’d been trained in the business world. He knew it backward and forward, but he had no training to be a father.

Everything took training and talent. Rona had mentioned she’d been a waitress. She knew the job. That had been obvious.

As he watched her work, he saw she had spirit. He recalled Jill’s lackadaisical approach to life. She wanted him to be more laid-back, but he’d been too honed to a structured work ethic. Now he realized he needed to change.

He had yesterday, sitting around Harbor Inn as if he had scads of time. Nick wondered what drove Rona. The look of concern in her eye when he’d first spoken to her had interested him, because it contrasted to her confidence as she worked.

The thought lingered as he pulled up in front of the school. He turned off the motor and headed inside to the front office. A secretary looked up from her computer. “Can I help you?”

“Attendance. Would you check to see if my son is in school?”

She rose and flagged him behind the counter. “Our attendance lady is down here. She might have the absence slips for this hour.”

He followed her down the hall, then stood beside the desk and waited until the clerk looked up.

“And you are…?” the woman asked, her eyes questioning him.

“Gary Thornton’s dad. I want to make sure he’s in school today.”

She nodded. “I saw him this morning.” She turned to the computer, apparently typing in his name. “He’s in history this hour.” She shuffled through the pink slips and nodded. “He’s not on the absence list, so he must be here. Do you want to speak with him?”

Nick struggled a moment for the answer. “If I could.”

She wrote the room number on a slip of paper and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said, clasping the paper and stepping through a door to the hallway. He glanced at the note and grinned. A hall pass. He hadn’t seen one of those since he was in school. He headed to the end of the corridor. H Hall the metal placard said on the wall. Gary was in H109.

Nick eyed the numbers above the doorway. H105. H107. He faltered outside of H109. What now? He could see the teacher pacing in the front of the room through the glass slit in the door. A hum of voices came through the transom. He straightened his back and knocked.

The hum quieted, then raised in volume and he could hear the teacher’s shushing. He watched her head his way and the door opened. She appeared to be surprised to see an adult.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Gary’s dad. Gary Thornton. Could I speak to him a minute.”

“He’s reviewing for a test, but he can have a minute.”

The door surged closed and Nick felt his heartbeat kick. When the door sprang open again, Gary’s scowl faced him.

“Dad!”

Nick waved to him to close the door, then motioned him to step away from the window. “Where were you last night?”

“Phil’s. He couldn’t get the car to bring me home.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

Gary’s face twisted. “I’m not a child.”

“As long as you live under my roof, you’ll follow my rules, Gary.”

“I can move out.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Oh, so I’m bound to you like a slave.”

Nick’s stomach knotted and he saw he had headed into a direction he hadn’t meant to go. “Gary, look. I don’t want a slave and I don’t want a prisoner. I want a son. I care about you. I was worried until I called Phil’s.”

Gary drew back. “You called Phil’s?”

“Yes. His mother said you’d left for school.”

“Great.” Gary jammed his hands into his pockets. “I suppose you told her I hadn’t gotten permission to stay.”

Nick looked into his eyes. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to ruin the trust you have with Phil’s parents.”

Gary’s gaze flickered, as if weighing what Nick had said. Trust. The whole mess was about trust. Nick wanted to trust his son and maybe that’s what he needed. They both needed to earn each other’s trust.

“We can talk later. You’re taking a test. I’m glad you’re in school and I’m glad you’re safe. I lost your—” He shook his head, biting back his words. Nick had lost his wife, but how could he forget Gary had lost a mother. “I lost my temper.”

Gary’s face softened and he lowered his head.

“Go back inside. I’ll see you at home.”

Gary put his hand on the knob, then glanced over his shoulder as he stepped back into the classroom. “Thanks.”

His single word had nearly been lost by the students’ noise inside the classroom, but Nick heard it. He stood a moment in thought, then turned and strode outside, thanking God that he’d found words that had made a difference. He hadn’t heard a thank-you from Gary in more than a year.

Nick climbed into the SUV, struggling with what to do about the situation. He could ground him until—until what? He promised to be a good boy? Until he promised to show respect. That would work for a beginning, but at the moment the thank-you had salved Nick’s frustration and he let the question drop.

When he arrived at the marina, Nick started down toward his boat, but changed his mind and ambled toward the restaurant. Maybe he should eat a late breakfast, then get back to his paperwork.

Breakfast. Who was he kidding?

When he stepped inside, the aroma of coffee and bacon danced around him. He scanned the room. No Rona. Then the kitchen door swung open and she came out wheeling a cart into the dining room.

“Have a seat anywhere,” Bernie called through the serving window.

Nick gave him a wave and noted the direction Rona had moved in to clear tables. He found a window spot along the front and watched her.

Rona stacked dishes, tossed silverware into a plastic container and piled the soiled dinnerware into the cart. She wiped off the table and spun around before she saw Nick.

Her face flickered from surprise to an uneasy smile. She raised her hand in a hello and continued to the next table. She placed a cup and spoon on the cart, swiped the table clean, and parked the cart beside the counter before approaching him with her order pad. “Hi.” She gave him a questioning look. “Can I help you?”

He needed help, but he wasn’t sure anyone could solve his problems except the Lord. “How about a coffee and toast.”

She tilted her head and frowned. “That’s not much for a lumberjack.”

It took a minute for her comment to register, then he felt his tension ease. “Okay, then add some scrambled eggs with cheese.”

“And a side order of bacon?” She tapped the eraser end of the pencil against the pad.

He remembered the aroma that first struck him when he entered; his stomach gave a hungry gnaw. “And bacon.”

“Coming right up,” she said, her face relaxing to an easy smile.

Realizing he’d forgotten to pick up the morning paper, Nick rose and headed toward the door, but before going outside to the box, he spotted an abandoned edition folded at the end of the counter with no one around. He motioned toward the paper. “Anyone own this?”

A woman sitting nearby shrugged. “Looks like it’s yours.”

When he returned to his table he noticed the steaming coffee cup already waiting. She was fast. His gaze drifted toward the kitchen door. He shouldn’t have walked off so quickly.

Sometimes he yearned for friendly conversation—different from business talk or a casual “nice weather” to the postman. He longed for a conversation about meaningful things, life and faith, even disciplining children.

He’d notice Rona’s ring finger absent of a wedding ring and his speculation launched again.

His food appeared in the serving window. He knew it was his because no one else seemed to be waiting for an order. In a moment, Rona came out front, balanced the dishes along her left arm and headed his way.

“Here you go.” She set the eggs and bacon in front of him followed by a plate of toast. She scooted the jelly dish closer. “I’ll be back with a warm-up.” She stepped away, then stopped. “Anything else before I go on break?”

The sun came through the window and highlighted the strands of gold in her shiny hair that curled upward just below her shoulders. “Some company.”

“Sure thing.” She lifted her chin as if to nod, then stopped. “Did you say company?”

He patted the table across from him. “I need some advice.”

A frown returned to her face. “From me?” She pressed the flat of her hand against her chest. “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.”

She turned away and returned to refresh his drink, then left. She surprised him by her abruptness. He knew he’d been presumptuous, but he really wanted to talk. He felt drawn to her for some reason.

Nick looked out the window, heavenward. God knew he had needs. Maybe God had guided him to someone like Rona. Maybe she had wisdom to offer him.

Glancing back at the kitchen door, he wished he’d taken a different tack. He’d pushed a friendship too quickly. It wasn’t like him at all. Nick had never flirted, not even a playful innuendo, while he’d been married and never since Jill died. But in the past two days he’d been doing something and he wasn’t sure whether it had been flirting or not.

A whish of sound drew him back as Rona settled across from him with a cup of coffee and a muffin. She pulled a paper napkin from the holder, took a sip of coffee, then leaned back. “I’m the worst person in the world to give advice.”

“Why?”

She dropped her gaze and tore off a hunk of her muffin.

He watched her consume the bite, lick her lips and sip the coffee before she focused on him.

“I’ve never given myself good advice, so I don’t expect to have wisdom for anyone else.” She lifted her eyebrows as if to punctuate what she’d said.

“Do you have kids?”

“No. I was married once, but never had a child. It was best.”

Her comment piqued his interest, but he’d learned his lesson and kept his mouth closed before he scared her away. “I have a son.”

“Gary.”

His eyes widened until he recalled yesterday. “You remembered.”

She nodded, lifting her mug.

“He’s sixteen.”

Her concerned look changed to a chuckle. “Then you’re lost and so am I when it comes to advice. Sixteen is a bad age.”

“I know. He didn’t come home last night.”

Her smile faded. “Did you call the police?”

“I located him. He’s okay. He stayed with a friend.” Nick startled himself telling his personal problems to a woman he didn’t know. “I don’t suppose you want to hear this.”

“It’s tough raising a kid alone.”

She looked uneasy and he glanced down at his left hand wondering if she’d surmised he was single from the lack of a ring. Better yet, from his presumptuous behavior.

Rona fingered her cup, then tilted her head as if to give him the answer to his unspoken question. “I heard your wife died a couple years ago.”

She’d heard from who? Bernie? His shoulders knotted. What had Bernie told her? “It was three years ago.”

“Three. That’s still not very long. My husband’s been gone for ten.”

“Ten.” He studied her interesting face, her well-shaped mouth and compelling eyes. “You never remarried?”

She shook her head and looked away.

From her reaction, he decided he’d asked enough about that subject, but his interest didn’t falter. “Bernie told you about Jill?”

Rona inched her gaze toward him. Jill?

“My wife.”

“No. It was Shirley Bailey.”

Bailey? He shrugged.

“She lives on Island View Road. She’s my childhood friend’s grandmother. I dropped by last night to say hello.” She gave him a halfhearted disconcerted look. “I hadn’t seen her in years and wasn’t even sure she’d remember me.”

The last comment intrigued him, but he let it slide. “I don’t think I know her.”

Rona gave a half-smile. “She said everyone knows Nick Thornton.” She bit off a hunk of muffin. “She told me about your wife’s death.”

He searched her face, wondering if that had been all the woman had said, because he didn’t want to go there.

“It was very sudden.” He grasped the handle of his coffee mug and took a sip, hoping the pause would allow the topic to fade away. “Are you renting a place?”

She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Not yet.” She evaded his gaze.

He swallowed his next question, knowing it was too soon to ask and definitely bad timing.

“I need to find a place to stay. Do you know anyone who has a flat around here? Shirley told me you knew what was happening in town.” Her questioning expression turned him upside down.

Had she read about his job in the paper? If so, she’d certainly mention it. The image of his boathouse apartment flashed in his eyes and he bit his tongue to control the offer, sensing it was a bad idea. He’d already come on too fast. “Not offhand, but I’ll keep my ears open.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

He fiddled with his paper napkin, hounded by the desire to be honest about his job opening with room and board, but if she said no, then he would wish he had waited. She’d just started the job with Bernie and he really didn’t know her at all. He liked her, that was true, but could she handle Gary? He wanted to do what was best for his son. He’d be wise to give himself time to know her better.

When Nick refocused, Rona eyed her watch.

“Time’s up.” She looked disappointed as she slipped her mug onto the empty muffin plate. “I’d better get back to work before Bernie fires me on my second day.”

Nick managed a grin, but had to fight from praying for that exact thing to happen.

Rona settled into the easy chair, snapped on her bedside lamp and pulled the newspaper from the table. She needed to find a place to rent. This motel situation would drive her mad. The past four days these cramped quarters had felt like a jail cell. The thought prickled up her arms.

Jail. Prisoner. The words jarred her and she thought of her brother. Would Don find her? He would be paroled some time this month, and though he was her brother, she wanted no part of him. He’d nearly ruined her life.

She spread the newspaper on her lap, but before she could focus, the alien jangle of her cell phone jarred her. The cell had been meant for emergencies. She hadn’t given the number to her father, only a friend who promised to let her know if anything went wrong at home.

Rona closed the paper and dug into her bag. The irritating jingle continued as she gazed at the number without recognition. She said hello, and as soon as she heard the voice, she remembered. She’d given her number to Mrs. Bailey.

“I baked cookies today. Chocolate chip and peanut butter. I wanted to make sure I had something you’d like.”

“I love them both, Mrs. Bailey,” Rona said, hearing pleasure in the elderly woman’s voice.

“Would you like to come over for a visit? I’d love your company.”

Again? She’d only been there last night. She eyed the newspaper, feeling guilty, but knowing she didn’t want to give the older woman false hope of being a constant companion. Though she was pushing forty, Rona wanted to live a little before ending her social life.

“I have some things to do tonight, but how about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

Rona heard disappointment in the woman’s voice.

“All right, then.” She paused as if grasping for another comment. “I’ll make tea tomorrow.”

“Tea sound wonderful, and I know the cookies will be as good tomorrow as today.”

She heard hesitation in Mrs. Bailey’s voice, but she must have accepted her excuse. “I’ll be waiting,” the woman said, her cheery voice zapping Rona with sadness as they said goodbye.

Rona fell back against the chair, wishing she didn’t feel so guilty. That could be me one day, she thought. Lonely. Alone. Mrs. Bailey and she had that in common. Yet the older woman had enjoyed a full life with a husband she loved. Rona had life to look forward to if she could stop running and settle somewhere safe, somewhere she felt free.

Pulling herself from her reverie, Rona unfolded the small newspaper again and flipped through the pages until she found the rental ads. She read the few entries, disappointed. Most of them offered cabins by the month or week. The only other ad she saw wasn’t what she wanted. She had no desire to rent a house. A flat or apartment would serve her purpose well.

She turned the paper over to the Help Wanted ads and scanned the page. She didn’t see Nick’s ad for a housekeeper. Why hadn’t he asked her? She’d given him every opportunity. He’d probably found a woman already. The possibility weighted her shoulders. Living on an island would have been wonderful—a beautiful setting, room and board, and a paycheck. What more could she want?

And, best of all, Don would have a difficult time finding her, or at least getting to her. He loved to ride into her life like a knight with all kinds of promises and then leave her eating dust.

Dust. Rona licked her dry lips and realized she needed something to drink. She rose and reached for the cooler, pulled out an orange pop and nabbed the potato chip bag.

When she settled back, she picked up the newspaper again to read the local news. She wanted to become familiar with the town she’d chosen to live in. As she placed her thumb on the edge of the daily paper to turn the page, Nick’s ad lay just below her finger. How had she missed it earlier? Her pulse rose as did her hopes. Maybe Nick thought she wouldn’t be interested so he hadn’t offered her the job. Rather than second-guessing, she could just apply and get it over with. If he said no, she would just have to deal with it.

Then reality smacked her between the eyes. Nick knew she wanted a better job. He knew she needed a place to stay, but he hadn’t offered her the position. He could have asked. Nothing had stopped him, except his own choice.

Nick hadn’t given her a thought.