McKettricks of Texas: Garrett. Linda Lael Miller
Gordon’s Calvin-blue eyes were solemn. Looking across the table at this man, this familiar stranger, Julie slipped into a time warp for just a fraction of an instant and saw her little boy, all grown up.
“Dixie’s an RN,” he said. “She knows all about medical equipment and medicines and the like. And she loves kids. In fact, we’re expecting one of our own next April.”
Julie felt a too-familiar ache on Calvin’s behalf.
Gordon was excited about the baby he and Dixie were expecting. He was ready to be a father. Where had all this maturity been when Calvin was born?
On the other hand, shouldn’t she just be grateful that Gordon wanted a relationship with his son at all? As absentee fathers went, he was surely one of the better ones.
“How long will you be in town?” she asked, after taking a long sip of iced tea to wet her nerve-parched throat.
“We’ve got to be back in Dallas by the day after tomorrow,” Gordon answered. “I was hoping you and Calvin could have supper with Dixie and me tonight. The café at the Amble On Inn isn’t much, but they serve a decent meal.”
Julie would have liked a little more time to prepare Calvin for his first real meeting with his dad and stepmom, but since she’d sort of forced Gordon’s hand by dodging his calls and e-mails for more than a month, the opportunity was clearly lost.
Gordon had been patient, even kind, but he was nobody’s fool. If he and Julie couldn’t work out a visitation schedule they’d both be able to live with, he would almost certainly take things to the next level and hire an attorney.
“Okay,” Julie said, checking her watch again. Her lunch period was almost over, and after eleventh-grade English literature, she was meeting with Arthur Dulles and several school board members in his office. He was determined to make her set aside the three one-act plays she’d intended to showcase and put on a big, splashy musical instead, because those made more money. And he was rolling out the major cannons. “What time?”
“Let’s meet at the café at six, if that works for you,” Gordon said.
Julie nodded, pulling her wallet from her purse when the check arrived. Gordon picked it up and waved away her offer to at least pay the tip.
He stood.
She stood.
He said thank you.
She said he was welcome.
He walked her back to her car and waited until she was inside before turning to head for his SUV.
Julie immediately got out her cell phone headset and speed-dialed Paige. “Are you busy?” Julie asked, steering with one hand as she pulled out onto the main road.
Paige, a highly skilled surgical nurse, worked in a private clinic an hour from Blue River, and her schedule was a bugger. She put in four twelve-hour days every week, and spent most of the other three sleeping off her exhaustion and overseeing the changes she was making in the house.
“Me, busy?” she joked. “Let’s see. Just as I was getting off work last night, search and rescue airlifted an accident victim in from some farm in the next county. Kid chopped off his left arm trying to sculpt a bear out of an oak stump with a chainsaw—but we’re the best. Dr. Kerrigan sewed it right back on. I guess that constitutes ‘busy.’”
Julie felt slightly queasy. “Thanks for sharing,” she said. “If you don’t have time to talk, just say so.”
“I have time to listen,” Paige said. “What’s going on, Jules?”
“The cottage is up for sale,” Julie answered. “I’ve been renting that house from Louise Smithfield for five years, and she didn’t even bother to tell me she was putting it on the market.”
“So we change the renovation plans for the house,” Paige said easily. “We’ll make it a duplex. You and Calvin can live on one side, and I’ll live on the other.”
Julie parked the car, her palm damp where she was clasping the phone.
“But you didn’t call to tell me about the cottage, did you?” Paige prompted.
“It’s Gordon,” Julie said shakily. “He’s in town. He finally just … showed up. Calvin and I are having dinner with him and his wife. Tonight.”
“Julie?”
“What?”
“Take a breath. This is a good thing, sis.”
“So why do I feel terrified?”
“Because you’ve probably been going over worst-case scenarios ever since you got that first e-mail from Gordon.”
Ah, yes, the worst-case scenarios.
Julie knew them all.
Gordon snatches Calvin and whisks him off to Mexico or some other third-world country, and Julie never sees her child again.
Gordon has a secret addiction—alcohol, gambling, drugs—maybe all those and more. Calvin is not only in danger when he visits his father, he’s more prone to engage in said addictions himself.
Gordon is a perfectly good father, and Calvin loves him so much that he doesn’t want to live even part-time with his mom anymore.
And those were the cheerier ones.
“All right, I admit it,” Julie all but whimpered. “I’m scared to death.”
“I know,” Paige said, gentling down a little. “Listen, Jules, you’re the best mother in the universe,” she went on softly. “But be that as it may, Calvin still needs a father.”
Julie had reached the school by then, and she maneuvered into her parking spot. “You’re right.”
Paige laughed. “Of course I am.” A pause. “Did Libby mention our getting together, the three of us, on Saturday? She wants to start shopping for her wedding dress.”
The thought of Libby and her happiness made Julie feel better instantly. “We talked about it a little this morning, when I dropped Calvin off at her and Tate’s house.”
“Do you not think it just a little strange that they want to live there instead of the mansion?”
“It’s not strange, Paige. I’m sure the small house is cozier, better suited to family life. Anyway, you know Tate’s never been much for high living, and neither has Libby.”
“You’re staying in the main house,” Paige pressed. “What’s it like?”
“You’ve been in the ranch house, Paige. At least as far as Austin’s bedroom, not to put too fine a point on things.”
“Ha,” Paige said. “So funny. It was dark, we were young, and I wasn’t exactly thinking about architectural detail.”
“I don’t suppose you were,” Julie drawled back. “Gotta get back to work now. Thanks for listening.”
“Keep me in the loop,” Paige chimed in reply.
Goodbyes were said, and the call ended.
Julie dropped her phone into her tote bag and wove her way through a river of teenagers flowing along the hallway.
Their energy exhilarated Julie, made her smile. Parents and administrators could wear her down, but the kids themselves always energized her. Many nights, after a theater group rehearsal or a performance, she was high for hours, too excited to sleep.
The afternoon sped by.
The meeting with Arthur Dulles and two school board members went exactly as Julie had expected it to—the showcase was out, unless she wanted to stage the three one-act plays in addition to the musical.
That would be impossible, of course.