Читать книгу Dreaming of Home - Glynna Kaye - Страница 12

Joe didn’t like it. Not one bit. But with the three of them ganging up on him, what was he to do? It was clear Davy had his heart set on a sleepover. But even though his dad vouched for her, he didn’t want his kid imposing on Meg—or getting attached to her or any woman for that matter. Not right now. They needed more man-to-man bonding opportunities. Needed to make up for lost time.

He and Davy had been together only a few weeks, much of that time at the home of his wife’s parents in San Diego as he attempted to regain his land legs and get reacquainted with his son. They’d been in Canyon Springs but a week, and now the little guy was already making off with the cutest chick in town—and leaving Daddy in the dust without a backward glance.

Okay, so it wasn’t surprising his son would be drawn to her. Maybe he did miss his mom. His grandmother, too, with whom he’d lived the past two years while Joe was halfway around the world. But not long ago Davy’s grandmother contacted him with troubling news that the situation was about to change, and Joe needed to come home.

Immediately.

He closed his eyes for a moment as a fist gripped his heart, determined not to think about that tonight. About his sister-in-law’s scheming intentions to take Davy away from him. Yeah, there was plenty of time to get to know the neighbors later. He and Davy needed uninterrupted father-son time.

Listening to the chatter around the table, it struck him that Meg’s interest in everything Davy had to say seemed genuine. From the Pacific beach he loved to romp on, to the puppy he was convinced he needed, she talked to him like he was a grown-up, not a baby.

But he’d picked up mixed signals on the sleepover deal. When Davy made his bold suggestion, he didn’t miss the sudden stillness that came over her expression or the hand that froze as she reached for her glass. Did she want a little kid she didn’t know bunking with her? Once she recovered from Davy’s rude proposal, though, she seemed to support it. Women. Go figure.

Okay. He could handle this. It was only one night, right? Tomorrow, in private, he’d deal with Davy—and his own interfering dad—about putting people on the spot. He stood to clear the table, taking a deep breath as he prepared to give the sleepover his reluctant blessing.

“You know what I think we ought to do, Davy?” Meg leaned forward, her gentle eyes on his son.

“What?”

“Instead of a sleepover, I think you should come to my place for dessert tonight. Then you and your dad can decide when you can stay overnight another time. Maybe when you can stay longer.”

Joe’s grateful eyes met Meg’s.

“But I want to come tonight.” Davy’s lower lip drooped.

“I know, but it’s already getting late. Probably almost your bedtime, right, Dad?” She glanced up at Joe. “If you stay tonight, all you’ll do is sleep, and we won’t get to play.”

“How about it, bud?” Joe prodded. “I bet Miss Meg makes a mean dessert.”

A frowning Davy pushed back in his chair and focused a challenging glare on his father. Joe braced himself.

Meg leaned forward as if oblivious to the father-son standoff, her tone playful. “Guess what I have, Davy.”

Eyes still clouded with disappointment, the boy turned. “What?”

“I have a blue fish named Skooter.”

“Blue?” Davy’s eyes brightened. “Is it real?”

“Yep.” She glanced down at her watch. “And I bet he’s getting hungry right about now. Should we go feed him?”

Davy turned back to his father, this time with a smile. “She has a blue fish.”

“You can see it if you go get your shoes,” Joe instructed, relieved the issue could be so easily resolved. No arguments. No tears. No tantrums.

On either of their parts.

The boy slid out of his chair, then with a bouncing gait headed to the hallway.

Joe focused again on Meg. “Now you’re sure you’re okay with this? If it’s not convenient—I mean, it is Saturday night. You probably have plans.”

“Hot date?” Bill teased.

Joe frowned.

Meg shook her head. “I was going to do laundry, but that can wait until tomorrow.”

“Okay. But I don’t like him inviting himself like that.” Joe cut a look at his father. “Or third parties aiding and abetting.”

Bill pushed back from the table and waved him away. “He’s five years old. If he was eighteen and invited himself to a sleepover at Meg’s, then you could have a serious talk.”

Joe responded with a sneer but couldn’t ignore the gut-punched sensation in his midsection. He didn’t want to think about Davy turning eighteen.

“An RV’s kind of an exciting place to a kid,” Meg pointed out. “Like a tree house or a tent. A dessert night will let him get a taste of adventure.”

He looked down at her. “Well, if you’re sure.”

“She’s sure, Joe, or she wouldn’t have suggested it.”

Davy appeared in the room again, arms laden with a huge stuffed bear.

“Hey, mister, you don’t need to take that thing.”

Davy clutched the plush creature. “He’s not a thing. He’s Bear.”

Joe took a step toward Davy, intending to confiscate the animal, but his son clasped the fuzzy critter tighter and spun away.

“Excuse me.” He held up his hands in defeat. “Fine. Whatever.”

Meg rose. “Let me help clean up. That’s the least I can do to thank you for inviting me to join you.”

“Thanks, but we might want to get going. I can tell someone’s getting cranky.”

Meg moved to the door to reclaim her shoes and laundry, but not before Joe glimpsed a quickly suppressed smile. Was she laughing at him? Implying he was the one getting cranky?

“Let’s go, bud.” He grabbed the throw blanket from the sofa, wrapped Davy up and swept boy and Bear into his arms.

Outside, Meg led the way through the moonlit RV park, weaving among the massive-trunked pines casting dense shadows on the threesome. Dried needles and leaves crunched under their feet. Crisp, faintly wood-smoked air assailed Joe’s senses, bringing back long-buried memories of his growing-up years in Canyon Springs. How odd to be here. The last place on earth he ever thought to be again. And certainly not as a single dad.

“This is it.”

Meg stepped under the lighted, striped canvas awning of what he knew to be a Class-C motor home. About a 20-footer from stem to stern, the midsized kind that fit over the top of a small pickup cab. She unlocked and opened the door, then flipped a switch. Welcoming light illuminated the compact interior. Joe set Davy down over the threshold, released him from his woolen cocoon and tossed the Navajo throw over his own shoulder.

The boy looked around. “Where’s Skooter?”

Meg remained outside but leaned in to point. “On top of the counter. Introduce yourself. We’ll feed him in a minute.”

Permission didn’t have to be offered twice. Davy abandoned Bear to scramble up on a built-in, upholstered seat for a closer look at the contents of the round fishbowl.

“Wow. He is blue!”

Meg turned a bright smile on Joe, and a curious tightness wrapped around his chest. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice.

“Thanks for bailing me out back there. You know, with the f-i-s-h ploy?”

“No problem. I could tell you weren’t comfortable with the sleepover idea. I shouldn’t have agreed to it without your okay, but I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

“Believe me, I can sure relate to that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But please don’t take my reluctance personally. It’s just that Davy and I—”

Meg held up a palm. “No need to explain. But if you do ever want to let him come for a sleepover, I’m fine with it. Experienced with nieces and a nephew.”

“Battle-hardened?”

“You could say that.” Her gaze lingered. “I’ll bring Davy home in—what?—an hour?”

Joe took a step back and shoved his hands into his back pockets. “An hour’s good. But I’ll come get him. You don’t need to be out by yourself in the dark.”

“Dad. Look at me.” Davy waved from where he kneeled on the seat, his forearms on the counter by the fishbowl. “Isn’t this RV cool?”

“Like a pirate ship’s cabin.”

“Yeah. A pirate ship.” Smiling, the boy turned again to the colorful aquatic creature as it whipped around the bowl in apparent delight at having company.

Meg lifted the hamper into the RV, then stepped up inside. “Guess we’ll see you in a bit.”

Joe shifted his weight and stretched out an arm to lean against the RV as he looked up at Meg. “I still can’t believe Davy invited himself like that. Diaz men do not go around begging favors from women.”

“Listen to you!” Meg hunched her shoulders, gave a little swagger and lowered her voice to a respectable bass. “Diaz men don’t—”

She broke out laughing.

“Okay, okay.” He hung his head for a brief moment, but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Just make fun of me.”

Laughter lit Meg’s eyes. “I’m committed to never pass up the opportunity.”

No kidding. He hadn’t missed her earlier comments about his aftershave and the burned potatoes. He narrowed his eyes. “I can see this is already getting to be a bad habit.”

Their smiling gazes met for a long moment, and then he sobered. “Thanks for letting Davy visit tonight. But if he gives you any trouble, just—”

“I won’t be trouble, Dad.” Now standing on the upholstered seat, Davy leaned in to creep his forearms closer to the fishbowl.

Joe snapped his fingers and pointed at his son in light reprimand. “Hey, you, no eavesdropping. And don’t stand on Miss Meg’s furniture.”

Davy dropped again to his knees.

Meg remained in the doorway, and Joe searched for another topic of conversation. It seemed she was lingering for a chat and his spirits lifted at the prospect. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to relax into a comfortable conversation with an attractive, single woman. No, he wasn’t looking for an entanglement. But he enjoyed her company, and she didn’t seem opposed to his. What would it hurt?

Meg tilted her head and her eyebrows rose as if in question.

Then it dawned on him that he blocked her from pulling the door shut. He stepped back, and she reached for the handle.

“Be good,” he said loud enough for Davy to hear.

Meg’s eyes twinkled. “We will be. See you soon.”

She pulled the door shut. A lock clicked into place. The exterior light went out.

So much for prolonged conversation. He’d sure misread those signals. Dimwit. Shouldn’t be playing with fire anyway.

He’d barely moved away when the outside light came on again and the door swung open. He turned to see Meg as she leaned out, holding the door open with one hand and Bear with the other.

“Joe?” she called into the darkness.

“Yeah?” He moved back to the door. Maybe his instincts weren’t off base after all. Could there be a little chemistry going on here?

“Forgot to ask. Any allergies?”

Odd question. He cleared his throat as his mind conducted a search. “Not since I was a kid. Got stung by a bee. Nothing too serious, though.”

He sensed her smile rather than saw it, and a hot wave washed over him. “You meant Davy.”

“Yeah.” Amusement colored her voice, but she didn’t outright laugh at him this time. “Any food allergies? Like to peaches? I’m big on fresh fruit as dessert.”

He dredged his memory. His mother-in-law hadn’t mentioned allergies when she gave him Davy’s medical records. She would have, wouldn’t she? “No, no food allergies that I know of.”

“Great.” A smile playing on her lips, she tilted her head. “Does it seem strange to be back? In Canyon Springs, I mean?”

Drawing the conversation out again. Good sign. He stepped closer.

“Kinda weird. A lot of things have changed, but at the same time they haven’t, you know? Some of it’s good, some of it’s not so good.” Joe laughed. “That made a lot of sense, didn’t it?”

“Actually, it did. It’s not as if you’ve been gone a lifetime. But you wouldn’t have been much more than a kid when you left and still seeing it through a kid’s eyes. Now you’re seeing the town and the people from an adult perspective.”

He nodded. “True. But I sure didn’t expect to feel ten years old again when I temporarily moved back in with Dad.”

Meg laughed. “Culture shock?”

“No foolin’.” He grinned. “I mean, I’m a father now, right? Yet Dad and I still butt heads like we used to when I was growing up, even over what’s best for Davy.”

“I’m sure it’s an adjustment for Bill, too.”

“Probably. But hopefully that science teacher will make up her mind about the job soon. Then Davy and I can establish our own household. That should help keep the peace.”

Meg glanced momentarily away, running her finger along the door’s framework. “So you taught high school science prior to joining the Navy?”

So she was curious about him.

“Two years in Flagstaff. I’d just started my second year when 9/11 hit. I was under contract, of course, so I didn’t join up until the school year was over.”

“Why the Navy?”

“Family tradition. Dad served and so did my Grandpa Diaz.”

“Interesting. So you’ve been in the Navy all these years?” She coaxed him with a smile that bumped his respiratory rate up a notch. “And you’re now returning to your first love—teaching?”

“Well, not exactly.” He chuckled, then sidestepped toward her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Confession time—but remember, if I tell you and you tell anyone else, I’ll have to kill you.”

She rubbed her hands together in mock anticipation. “Oooh, sounds highly classified.”

He looked around with exaggerated secretiveness, then lowered his voice. “Can I trust you?”

She pantomimed zipping her lips.

He grinned, then sobered. “To be honest, teaching didn’t pump me that much, if you know what I mean. But Davy’s my number one priority now. I’ll do whatever it takes to do what’s best for him, like separating from the Navy and moving back to the old hometown.”

“So did you do some kind of teaching in the military?”

“No. When I taught school I was an EMT on the side, then a Corpsman in the Navy. You know, medic stuff. But regular hours and summers off make a whole lot of sense now that I’m doing the single dad thing.”

She raised a brow, and he hastened on. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hated teaching, it just may not be my gift.”

With a quick, tight smile she reached out to the door handle. “Well, I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thanks.”

Davy appeared at her side. “Bye, Dad.”

He lifted a hand in farewell, but didn’t catch Meg’s eye again before the door shut. With a pang of unexpected disappointment, he nevertheless whistled all the way back to the house.

“I thought you’d sworn off women.” Bill flipped the switch on the dishwasher, then walked to the living room and eased into his oversized leather chair.

Joe looked up from the Phoenix paper he’d spread across the dining table. “What are you talking about?”

“Meg.”

“You’re the one who invited her to dinner. You and Davy. Not me.”

“Yeah, and you’ve bombarded me with questions about her for the past twenty minutes.”

Joe shook his head as he stared at the red silk flowers still adorning the table. “Dad, it’s called good parenting. I need to know what kind of person you want to let my son hang out with. You can’t tell me that when I was Davy’s age you’d have let me go off with some stranger you didn’t know anything about.”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Yeah, right.” Joe stood and moved to the front window to scrutinize the recreational vehicle sheltering his son. “Not a good idea, Dad, for Davy to get attached to someone who won’t be around for long.”

Inwardly, Joe cringed. Good going. He left the door wide open for a well-deserved chastisement. Neither of them had brought up the issue, and some days it hung like an invisible barrier between them.

The leather chair squeaked. “Who says she won’t be around?”

Relieved at his father’s benign response, Joe motioned at the campground. “Pretty clear, don’t you think? Part-time jobs. Living in an RV.”

“Meg McGuire is a good girl. A little down on her luck.”

Joe turned to his father. “What’s that mean? She was evasive when I asked why she lived in an RV.”

“Transitioning. Trying to make a fresh start.”

“From what? Rehab? The state pen?”

Bill peered at his son over the top of his glasses. “Show a little faith in me, Joe. Davy is my grandson.”

He shifted. “Sorry. It’s just that—”

“Look, besides your own cousin’s recommendation, Sharon Dixon also vouches for her. Says Meg roomed with her daughter at ASU. You remember Kara don’t you?”

“Vaguely.” The name sounded familiar. Couldn’t put it to a face. “So what constitutes down on her luck?”

“Nobody tells me anything around here. But I’m picking up that like most people these days, there’s a broken relationship wedged in Meg’s not-too-distant past. I’m guessing she’s attempting to put some miles in between.” Bill turned off the lamp, rose from his chair and then stepped to the window. “You gotta remember, not everyone is as fortunate to have what you and Selena had.”

Joe’s jaw tightened. “Don’t encourage Davy in this, okay?”

“Come on. A kid needs a woman in his life. You know that better than anyone.” When Joe didn’t respond, his dad continued. “And it’s good for a kid to have more than one adult to relate to.”

Since when did his father become the all-knowing expert at parenting? “I’d rather we didn’t pick someone off the street for my son to bond with.”

Bill laid a hand on his shoulder, gripping it hard. “There’s nothing to worry about, kiddo. I’ve seen Meg with the kids at church, and they love her. Everybody around here loves her. And the RV sits not two-hundred steps off my front deck. If you let Davy sleep over, you can stay up all night with your binoculars trained on the place. Or call every half hour—I have her cell number.”

The hand gripped his shoulder harder before he stepped away, avoiding his son’s gaze.

“What? Something about her is bothering you.”

His father’s expression contorted with indecision. “Probably not for me to say.”

“Come on, Dad.”

The older man grimaced. “She’s a teacher, too.”

“So? She told me she subs around here.”

“Did it occur to you that she subs because she’s waiting for a permanent opening—teaching science?”

Joe’s heart stilled. No way. Not thirty minutes ago, lapping up her attention, he’d dropped his guard and spilled his guts about teaching. Said it didn’t pump him.

Oh, man. Right into the hands of the competition?

“What makes you think that? She didn’t say anything to me, and I mentioned the job when I first met her. We even discussed it again tonight.”

“Put two and two together, that’s all.”

He let out a breath of pent-up air. “But you don’t know it for a fact, right? She didn’t tell you that.”

“No. But I got thinking about it at dinner tonight. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Meg’s been here since last spring. Subbing. Like she’s waiting for something.”

Joe scowled, irritation rising. “Why are you telling me this? So I can—what? Not apply so she can have it? Get a job waiting tables down at Kit’s?”

“Of course not.”

“Dad, I don’t have to tell you there are few jobs in this town for a man to earn a decent living. This is my hometown. Not Meg’s. I have a kid to support. I want to raise him right here in Canyon Springs. I thought you wanted that, too.”

“I do. I just wanted you to know, that’s all. Meg’s become a favorite around here in the short time she’s called this town home. You may face some opposition. Ben Cameron may back you, but he doesn’t run the school district.”

“So it’s Little Red Riding Hood versus the Big Bad Wolf?”

With an exasperated shake of his head, his father turned away and started down the hall to his room. Agitated, Joe remained where he was for several moments before moving to flip off the overhead light. Returning to the window, he stood in the darkened room gazing at Meg’s dimly lit RV.

Great. Just great.

But despite his irritation—and yes, he could admit it, fear—the image of her wide, expressive eyes and teasing smile flashed through his mind. It was no wonder that his father insisted everyone loved her. Friendly. Pretty. Bright.

But what kind of woman lived in a portable house by choice? Weren’t women supposed to be into that setting down roots, white picket fence thing? Kids. Cat. Dog. Camping out in an RV park didn’t smack of a desire to settle down and hold a permanent job. Dad was wrong.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

She’d been openly curious about his background tonight. Flat out asked him if teaching was his first love. He’d basked in the attention, eaten it all up, took it as personal interest. But could it be professional?

He swallowed hard as he stared out at the RV. Could the winsome little woman be camouflaging underhanded motives with a beckoning smile and flattering lips? Didn’t the Good Book warn men of that?

No, Dad had to be wrong. He had to be because his foolhardy son got caught up in feminine wiles and handed over damaging evidence that even Ben Cameron might not be willing to overlook. He’d sunk his own ship before he’d even hoisted anchor.

He took a deep breath. This called for a little preemptive chat with Ben, just to be on the safe side. No way was that pretty little thing going to walk away with his job.

He’s pirating away my dream job and he doesn’t even like teaching? Come on, God, how fair is that? Meg tossed and turned in her cab-over bed long after Joe picked up his sleepy son and the two adults had engaged in a hushed, minimal exchange. It hadn’t escaped her that his previous friendly flirtatiousness morphed into all business on his return visit. But she was too tired to figure that one out and chalked it up to “men!”

But his absolute confidence in acing the job continued to trouble her.

During their hour together, she and Davy had fed Skooter, split a peach and read books from the supply she kept on hand for Sunday school lessons.

They talked about pirates. Puppies.

And Davy’s dad.

His dad, who ran fast, loved the Phoenix Suns and hummed when he brushed his teeth.

Meg punched her pillow and tried to get more comfortable. It was evident Davy’s father had been uneasy about leaving him with her, but she couldn’t blame him. Even though she knew Bill, she and Joe had just met.

Davy, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by the prospect of berthing in on the “pirate ship” of his newfound friend. What was it, though, with the underlying tension she sensed between Joe and his father? The older Diaz seemed to think Davy needed time away from Joe and vice versa, and an overnight outing at her place fit the bill.

Brushing back her hair, she relived the lightning bolt sensation that hit when Davy voiced his innocent inquiry at the dinner table. Not that she was a stranger to kid sleepovers. As she’d mentioned to Davy’s apprehensive father, she’d been a willing participant in plenty of those with young family members. But no one here needed to know that the condo she’d shared with roommates in Phoenix had also been a frequent stopover for her ex-fiancé’s twin daughters. Two charming auburn-haired girls, Myra and Grace, now not much older than Davy.

It had been over a year since she’d seen them, except from a distance. Did they even remember her?

From the moment Todd introduced them, her heart had been won. It overflowed with compassion and love for the two precious siblings whose mother had walked out of their lives—and that of their father—and into the arms of another man.

Then a year later, Todd walked out on her.

She squeezed her eyes shut as a familiar pain stabbed her heart. Losing Todd was bad enough, but the girls…. Hadn’t she believed with all her heart that God had brought them into her life to love and watch over? That she’d be their mother forever and always? She hadn’t hesitated, had no second thoughts. She’d swept them into her life—only to have them pried away without warning, leaving a gaping wound in her heart that had yet to heal.

She stared up at the low ceiling. Davy. What a sweetheart. But being around him awakened too many memories of cuddling and hugs and soft childish kisses. And heartache.

She liked Joe. She could admit that. Under different circumstances it would be easy to fall into a hopeful, Heavenward, what-about-him petition. But the man showed signs of unresolved issues—the wedding band still on his finger spelled that out plainly enough. Keep your distance. No trespassing. Which was fine with her. No way was she getting involved with another man who had a kid.

She wouldn’t, couldn’t, risk that kind of loss again.

Nor would she, as Todd had so bluntly pointed out regarding his daughters, put Davy at risk of losing another mother figure.

No doubt about it, melanoma stunk.