Читать книгу Dreaming of Home - Glynna Kaye - Страница 12

“Todd announced his engagement last night. Valentine’s Day wedding.”

The voice of her mother, Ronda McGuire, greeted Meg when she answered her cell phone Sunday morning. Since she was preparing to head off to church, this was not a topic she wanted to dwell on.

“So I hear. My pal Stacey texted me a bit ago.” She wedged the phone against a scrunched-up shoulder as she pulled a pair of dress shoes out of the miniscule closet. “I bet he got his bride-to-be thoroughly checked out ahead of time. Made sure she’s up to date on her vaccinations.”

Her mother chuckled. “He’s dated every single-status female at Bell Road Christian since he sent you packing. Guess you’re harder to replace than he anticipated.”

She didn’t miss the satisfaction in her mother’s voice. “Jill’s nice, Mom. She’ll make Myra and Grace a great mother. But I hope she doesn’t get too attached before the ring’s firmly on her finger. You know, in case she catches a cold or the flu and Todd decides her continued presence might be too traumatic for them.”

“Todd’s exit had nothing to do with the girls being traumatized by your illness.”

Mom maintained that Todd feared she might recover enough to live, but not be up to catering to his every whim and relieving him of responsibility for his daughters. No, her mom was not a fan of Todd All-about-Me Bellinger.

“So how’s your friend doing? Penny.”

“Talked to her a few days ago. She’s hanging in there. Thinks they’ll be releasing her again this week.” Her grip tightened on the phone. Five years ago Penny had been diagnosed with stage II melanoma. Good prognosis. But by the time they met at a cancer support group last year, it had recurred and she’d started more aggressive treatments. Treatments that scared Todd into hitting the road and filled Meg with an ever-present apprehension over her own situation. Now once again things weren’t looking good for her friend.

“I’m glad she’ll be home again soon. Courageous young woman. So, have you heard more on that job you e-mailed about?”

Meg thrust her feet into her shoes. “It’s still a rumor Suzanne won’t be returning after maternity leave. Nothing official. The baby isn’t due ’til November, but the doctor’s had her on bed rest since the second week of school. Unfortunately, now there’s an added complication.”

“What’s that?”

Joe’s laughing image flashed into her mind. “Another guy’s interested in the position. Local boy. Looks athletic, so he can probably coach something, too, which will make him an added attraction to the school board.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But you know, honey, maybe this isn’t meant to be.”

Meg flinched. Hadn’t she been telling herself that same thing since her encounter with Joe at the shop yesterday? That maybe the very thing she’d been so sure was a “God thing” wasn’t? But it sounded defeatist coming from her mother’s mouth.

“I talked to your friend Debby last night,” her mom continued. “There’s still a science opening at Sadler High. The guy who replaced you during your extended leave of absence pulled out at the last minute this fall. If you move on it quickly, Debby thinks you can have your old job back.”

Meg silently counted to ten as she shook a few flakes from Skooter’s food container into the fishbowl and watched him dance in ecstasy.

“Mom, I don’t want to go back to Sadler. I don’t want to see Todd in the faculty meetings or in the hallways every day. If I come back, everyone will expect me to attend Bell Road, too. Then I’d not only have to see Todd, but Jill and Myra and Grace.”

“Then find another high school down here. Another church.”

“It’s hard to explain, but—” She rummaged in the closet for a fitted denim jacket, then shoved one arm into a sleeve. How could she enlighten her mother when it was hard enough to explain it to herself? “I feel like that season of my life is over. It’s time to move on. A new direction. Fresh dream.”

“There was nothing wrong with your old dream of teaching school in the Phoenix area. Your illness came as a setback, but that can be overcome. Besides, how much longer can you borrow your aunt’s RV?”

She detected the frown in her mother’s voice. What Mom still didn’t “get” was that her teaching dream sprouted from Aunt Julie’s beloved memories of school in a small town. Not in the overcrowded, metropolitan Valley of the Sun. Had Mom forgotten she’d applied—unsuccessfully—for a job in Canyon Springs fresh out of college?

Meg switched the phone to the other ear and wiggled her free arm into the jacket sleeve. “Aunt Julie said I could keep it as long as I want.”

“Surely you don’t intend to spend the winter in it?”

“Kara’s mom has been trying to get me to move in with her. But actually—” She took a deep breath. Might as well tell her and get it over with. “If I get the job, there’s a house I want to buy here in Canyon Springs.”

“This is the first I’m hearing of this. Does your father know?”

“It came on the market this week.” She snatched up her purse and rummaged for her car keys. “I thought maybe Rob could come up and take a look at it.”

Her brother was a home inspector and would give her an honest evaluation.

“Buying a house is a huge commitment. What if you don’t like it up there? So far from home?” Her mother paused. “What if…”

The question drifted off, but Meg filled in the blank.

“I love it here, Mom. I’m just a few hours away from you and Dad and my doctors. My last checkup was good. No sign of anything spreading.” She spoke with more confidence than she felt. “I might be able to afford a rental in the off season, but that’s only a fraction of the year. We’re talking rents jumping to thousands of dollars a month most of the time. Not a good investment.”

“Would you have roommates, like you did at the condo?”

“Maybe. But I’ve lived in cramped dorms or a three-girl condo for almost a decade.” She sighed. “I’d like to have a little place of my own. A garden. A dog. I don’t want to keep putting my life on hold waiting for Mr. Right. Or give in to living the rest of my life afraid.”

Her mother’s voice softened. “I didn’t mean that you should, honey.”

“I know you worry about me, Mom. But if worse would come to worst, at least I’d have had a chance to fulfill a dream, wouldn’t I? Even if only for a while. No regrets.”

Silence hung between them.

“I love this little house. You will, too. It’s the only one I think I can afford. I’ll even have a guest room for you and Dad to come up and visit.”

Her mother remained silent. Now probably wasn’t the time to tell her the house she was looking at was Aunt Julie’s old home, where she’d lived for a few years as a kid. Or that her aunt had been so excited when she’d called her about it Friday night that she’d even pledged to pitch in on the down payment, if needed, in exchange for occasional space on her niece’s sleeper sofa. No, now wasn’t the time to bring that up. Mom already held her sister-in-law responsible for her daughter hitting the road in a borrowed RV and making like a gypsy.

She glanced at her watch. “Look, Mom, I have to go. Church. I’ll call you later this week, okay?”

After they said their goodbyes, she mentally rehashed the conversation. Mom meant well, with concern for her health as the primary reason for wanting her closer to home. But she’d grown up on her aunt’s stories of attending school in Canyon Springs, the studies that enthralled her, the teachers who inspired her. Funny stories. Poignant stories. Stories that made her homesick for a place she’d never been before. Those stories fueled a teaching dream she pursued in college and which, unfortunately, collided with reality at urban, overcrowded Sadler High.

To her delight, however, the hope of making her long-held dream an actuality revived in the wake of her illness. She’d learned the hard way that life might be short, but God was giving her a second chance. Or so she’d thought until a pirate with a science teaching credential sailed onto the scene.

Was God asking her to give it up without a fight?

Man, oh, man.

Lungs burning and heart all but pounding right out of his chest cavity, Joe Diaz leaned over, hands braced on his legs right above the kneecaps. He labored to breathe more deeply, to suck in sufficient quantities of paper-thin oxygen. What had been a walk-in-the-park, five-mile run at sea-level San Diego had whittled down to three grueling ones in Canyon Springs.

He shook his head and forced a smile. What a wimp. You’d think after eight days of this he’d start to get used to it. Didn’t some philosopher say that which does not kill you will only make you stronger? Yeah, right. If he didn’t die first.

Eventually he straightened and trudged up the steps of his father’s deck. He grabbed a hand towel from where he’d left it on the back of a folding lawn chair and wiped away what remained of the sweat. The region’s low humidity could mislead a guy into thinking he hadn’t perspired much. Deceptive. He’d forgotten that. He finished his cool-down stretches, then surveyed the wooded campground as he consumed a stainless steel container of H₂O. It might take a while for his body to acclimate, but boy did he love running in Arizona’s White Mountains. Racing along winding dirt trails. Sun filtering through long-needled ponderosa pine boughs to warm his skin. A sky so blue it boggled his mind. God even threw in an extra treat this morning—two does and a fawn. This was a way of life he could get into.

Ironic, wasn’t it, how his perspective on the old hometown changed since he was a teen?

The banging of the screen door behind him interrupted his reverie as Davy shot out onto the deck and headed down the wooden steps.

“Hey, where you going in such a hurry, bud?”

Davy either didn’t hear him or—as Joe suspected—ignored him. Bill stepped out the door, and Joe turned.

“Where’s he going?”

“Meg’s.”

Meg’s? He took a ragged breath that had nothing to do with his morning exertion. If she was targeting his job, he had even more reason to keep Davy away from her.

“Dad, I asked you last night not to encourage the two of them. You could at least respect my wishes, even if you don’t agree with them.”

“This has nothing to do with you or Davy. It’s about doing unto others.”

Joe raised a brow. “Come again?”

“Gasoline isn’t free. She’s on a tight budget. Only makes sense to offer a ride to church.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You were too young to remember,” his dad continued, staring into the forest at Davy’s retreating back. “But there was a time when an offered ride would have been money in the bank to your mother and me.”

Caught off-guard, Joe studied his father a long moment, but the man’s thoughts remained focused elsewhere. Then he returned, without further comment, to the house. Interesting. Dad seldom, if ever, mentioned his ex-wife. Then again, he himself rarely talked about his mother either.

By the time he settled into a lawn chair and removed his shoes and socks, he saw Meg heading toward the house, Davy scampering at her side. In spite of himself, his eyes lingered in appreciation as Meg covered the uneven ground in a smooth, flowing stride. A calf-length, gauzy black skirt and curve-hugging denim jacket accentuated a mesmerizing sway.

Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed the well-worn Bible on a table where he intended to read after his run. In an abrupt move, he pushed back in his chair, picked up the Sunday paper and attempted to focus on the latest world disasters. They didn’t hold a candle to the one he could see brewing right here in his own backyard if he didn’t keep his mind on business.

A few minutes later, at the sound of Meg’s laugh and Davy stomping up the stairs, he lifted his gaze again. Davy hurried back into the house, leaving Meg behind. She stepped onto the deck, looking even better close up than she had from a distance. She didn’t appear to harbor underhanded intentions beneath that sunny countenance, but from here on out he’d be on his guard.

“G’morning, Miss Meg.”

“Good morning, Davy’s Dad.” She smiled, her eyes assessing his sweat-stained “Go Navy” tank shirt, shorts and bare feet. The scruffed-up hair.

He guessed it was clear enough he wouldn’t be joining the churchgoers. “So, you’re hitchin’ a ride, huh?”

She set down an overstuffed canvas bag against the deck railing. “Your son made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged as he flashed her a grin. “He’s the ladies’ man of the kindergarten set.”

“No foolin’.”

He tossed the newspaper aside. “Hey, thanks again for hosting a dessert night for Davy. That’s all he could talk about at breakfast this morning. That blue fish was a hit.”

“I had fun, too. I miss my nieces and nephew. Regular little chatterboxes.”

He narrowed his eyes. Could his son have said anything last night, in his innocence, to further corroborate his dad’s ill-advised admissions to the engaging woman?

“I hope Davy didn’t fill you too full of tall tales.”

“Oh, I probably have enough goods on you and Bill now,” Meg said, tilting her head as an impish smile surfaced, “to make for a comfortable retirement.”

“Oh, great.”

Her smile widened, and against his will he drank it in like a thirst-parched man in the desert. He stretched out his legs and folded his hands across his midsection, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “You know, don’t you—”

His dad poked his head out the door and set Davy’s backpack on the deck. “Be out in a minute, Meg. Meet ya at the truck.”

“Okay.” She glanced at Joe. “You were saying?”

What was with him, anyway? Every time he was around her he wanted to draw out the conversation. Make her smile. Laugh. What he really needed to be doing was setting her straight on this job thing. Or at least figuring out where she stood on it.

He waved her off. “Can’t remember. Was probably a lie.”

To his satisfaction, she rewarded him with that light, joy-filled laugh he’d already come to associate with her.

Still smiling, she turned to the deck stairs. “See you later, Joe.”

She’d reached the bottom of the steps when Davy dashed out the door, something flat and rectangular gripped tightly in his hands.

“Hey, mister.” Joe reached out to snag his son’s arm, but missed. “Whatcha got there?”

The boy paused for an uncertain moment, his eyes searching Joe’s. Then with a shy smile, he surrendered the object. An eight-by-ten picture frame.

Joe’s breath caught as he turned it toward him. A family portrait. Mom. Dad. Davy. Recovering, he gave his son a reassuring smile and handed back the frame. “Good lookin’ daddy you have there, kid.”

Davy rolled his eyes and hugged the picture to his chest. Then he turned and squatted to unzip his backpack.

“You don’t need to take that to church with you, bud.”

The boy stiffened and looked back at him. “It’s to show Miss Meg.”

“Yeah?” Joe looked around for her, but she’d moved off toward the driveway, out of earshot. Still, he lowered his voice. “You know, she may not want to see that.”

“Yes, she does.” Davy’s brows lowered as he turned again to the backpack and stuffed the frame inside. With a defiant glance over his shoulder, he snatched up the pack and dashed from the deck. “And you can’t stop me.”

Temper rising, he stood. “David—”

“Let it go, Joe.” Bill’s quiet voice came from the doorway.

Joe ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I don’t care if he takes the picture. It’s this insubordinate attitude that keeps popping out when I least expect it.”

“He’s had a lot of adjustments to make in his short life. He’ll come around.”

“I hope so. Don’t get me wrong, okay? I’ll owe her for the rest of my life, but Rosemary,” he said, referring to his mother-in-law, “didn’t always run a tight ship.”

“Patience, sailor.” His dad cast him a significant look before stepping off the deck. “What goes around comes around—like father, like son.”

Joe stared after him as he rounded up Davy and buckled him into the back of a blue extended-cab pickup. When everyone was secured inside, the truck backed out and his father returned a wave.

Like father, like son? Had he been such a rebellious little brat like Davy could be at times? He stepped to the edge of the deck, his grip tightening on the railing. It was great of his father to take in son and grandson after all these years. But he could see only a week into the experience that having two heads of the same household wasn’t going to work.

This week he’d start looking for a new place to live. Maybe to rent, but preferably one to buy. He still had the money from the San Diego house sale squirreled away. Buying would establish both the relational and legal roots he needed to ensure his and Davy’s future together. He’d do some sleuthing, too. See if he could figure out what innocent-eyed Ms. McGuire was up to.

With a curious twinge of disappointment, Meg glanced back at the house—and Joe—before both disappeared from sight. His attire had clued her immediately that he didn’t intend to join them, so Sharon was right about that. Although he could have if he’d been inclined. Canyon Springs Christian Church catered to seasonal visitors and was no stranger to the casually dressed crowd.

At any rate, she had to admit he’d looked gorgeous this morning, his muscular brown legs stretched out, sunlight glancing off a head of shiny, ebony hair. And that appraising look he’d leveled in her direction as she stepped up on the deck? It had been enough to send her heart scampering up her throat. It was a wonder she’d been able to return his greeting.

She shook away the memory of his dark, smoky eyes. “Thanks for inviting me along, Bill.”

“With gas prices seesawing again, it never hurts to carpool.”

“What’s carpool?” Davy rummaged in his backpack. “Where cars swim?”

“Look who’s a comedian this morning.” Bill chuckled as he turned onto the black-topped road.

They’d barely picked up speed when Davy thrust something over the seat. A picture frame dropped beside her.

“That’s my mommy.”

Bill exchanged a glance with her as she picked up the frame and turned it face-up. A family portrait. The kind you got at a department store or had made for a church directory.

“She’s beautiful, Davy.”

And she was. A playful, wide-mouthed smile. Lively obsidian eyes flirting with the camera. Raven black hair and flawless, olive skin. No wonder Joe had fallen in love with her. What red-blooded male could resist?

An irrational stab of jealousy pierced her consciousness. Not only upon seeing the beautiful woman with Joe, but also noticing her naturally warm, Hispanic skin tone. A skin tone that once upon a time she herself would have died to have. And almost did. Bet this woman never had to resort to a tanning bed for that healthy, golden-hued glow.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What was her name?”

“Selena.” Bill kept his eyes on the road.

Her gaze rested a moment longer on the captivating face. Selena. The woman for whom Joe still wore his wedding band. She shifted her attention to the image of Joe and the newborn he cradled. Joe, dashing in his Navy whites. Confident. Proud. A new dad with the world by the tail. The future in his arms.