Her Unlikely Family (5 page)

“Bingo.”

“Contrary to what you might think, I do learn from my mistakes.”

She sucked in her breath. “You? Mistakes?”

With a smile, he faced the road again. “Never. Just lapses in judgment.”

“I see. Well, I suggest you tread carefully from here on out. Remember, Lisa is an injured girl who craves a family who loves her and wants her.”

Michael's heart and stomach hurt simultaneously.
How could I forget?
“You know, taking care of a teenager is quite an undertaking even for family. Doing so just because you were a runaway yourself doesn't make much sense.”

“Oh, it's more than that. I told you, it's my calling. To help people like Jesus would.”

“How did you discover your calling?”

“After I settled here in Gatlinburg, I realized that I didn't really have a purpose in my life. So I asked God to give me one.”

“And he sent you Lisa?”

“Yes. But he sent a few other girls first, through a ministry at my church.”

“What happened with them?”

She slowed to a stop behind a line of traffic. “Are you sure you want to know?”

He wasn't sure at all. “I should probably know your track record.”

“Two have gone home, reunited with their families. One, Regina, is living on her own here in town and attending the community college. Another couldn't get off drugs and ran off when I got tough with her.”

“At least you tried.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you for saying that. I still worry about her.”

They pulled up to the craft school, and this time she let Michael go all the way up to the campus with her. They stepped out of the car and into what looked like an art gallery and found doors leading to, presumably, studios. Josie seemed to know where she was going.

“Have you been here before?” he asked.

“Yes, I took a jewelry making class a couple of years ago.”

“Impressive.”

“Lower your brows a notch. You don't have to look so surprised.”

“I'm not at all surprised. Your passion for what interests you is to be admired.”

Color flooded her cheeks, and he had a powerful urge to run his thumbs over their warmth.

Instead, he clenched his hands. “Let's find Lisa.”

“I have a feeling she's in there.” She pointed to a door marked Fibers, peeked in, then motioned him over.

He looked over the top of Josie's head, the wild bits of hair tickling his chin. She smelled like the diner, which made his empty stomach rumble. But her hair also held the faint aroma of peaches.
Intriguing.
He would have expected something sassy, something spicy.

Lisa, deep in conversation with a guy working at a large loom, didn't see them. Josie backed into Michael, pushing him out of the way, so she could quietly close the door.

“Has she come to watch that artisan before?”

“Yes, and anyone else who has a talent that interests her.”

“You mean she's truly interested in art?”

Josie cocked her head to the side and gave him a smile just short of friendly. “Shouldn't you know?”

She was right. And he didn't like it at all. It seemed that he, who was so proficient at work, was failing more and more on a personal level. Most recently at his engagement to Gloria. But with far more devastating consequences, he'd failed at protecting his sister.

Now here he was, a dismal failure at guardianship. He didn't even know what kinds of things Lisa liked—other than outrageous hair color.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's leave before she sees us.”

 

As Josie and Mike sat in silence, stuck in traffic on the main drag, Josie prayed for Lisa and her uncle. It was as plain as an egg over-easy that Lisa craved his love and attention. But he was clueless. Clueless of her needs. Clueless about what to do to meet those needs.

Lord Jesus, give me wisdom. Help me know what to do to help the two of them. It seems that somehow, I could teach them how to relate. How to—
“That's it!”

“What?” Mike asked.

She pulled into the parking lot at the Comfy Inn and stopped next to Mike's Beemer. “I have an idea.”

“Is that a good thing?” The skeptical look on his face was almost comical. And he couldn't seem to get out of the car fast enough.

He came around to her window, and she grabbed the duct-taped window crank. After she spent an exhausting thirty seconds rolling it down, he said, “I guess I should ask what it is.”

“Look, Mike. I have a suggestion. An offer, really.”

“Okay.” There was that skeptical look again.

“Lisa needs you. And you need to get to know Lisa so you can be a better parent.”

“Guardian.”

“Parent. What's so hard about admitting that you're more than an uncle now?”

“You said you had an offer?”

“How about you plan to hang around for several days. I'll try to get a few afternoons off to help you get to know your niece.”

“And what do I owe you in return?”

“Don't start grabbing your wallet. I just want to help.”

“Like Jesus did.”

“Exactly!” She laughed with the sheer joy of finally getting a point across to him. But then she noticed his hands in his pockets and that he was studying his feet. “You don't believe in God, do you?” she asked.

Though Michael was surprised she'd drawn such a conclusion, he immediately began to wonder about practicalities, such as how he would stay away from the bank for several more days. “Oh, I believe. I'm a Christian. It's just that…well…” He checked his watch.

“Oooh,” she growled. “I forgot. You don't have
time
for your niece.” She slung her arms in the air, setting off an alarm of jangling bracelets. “You're hopeless, Mike.”

She backed up the car and squealed out of the motel lot. All because he'd looked at his watch.

Well, he couldn't help that he had responsibilities. He had stockholders depending on him. And his family's good name.

And Lisa,
his conscience tried to tell him. He pushed the thought aside as he fumbled with the key to his room. When he finally unlocked the door, he stormed in and kicked the door shut behind him. He would check in with his brother at the office to see how the Mason account was going. Then he would know how much time he had left to persuade Lisa to go back to the boarding school.

He reached his secretary who put him through to Gary's secretary. Finally, his brother picked up. “Hello, Michael. How's Lisa?”

“She's fine. Just not too happy to see me.”

Gary chuckled. “Did you really think she'd make it easy on you?”

With a deep sigh, and feeling older than his thirty-two years, he collapsed into a chair. “Do you think you and Dad could spare me for a couple more days? She's refusing to come home.”

“I'd be glad to. You've got more important matters to take care of.”

Maybe Josie was right—he was hopeless. Because he would rather be dealing with fluctuating interest rates than with the fluctuating hormones of a teenager.

“So, are you managing okay?” Michael asked. There was a pause, and he began to fear the worst.

“To tell you the truth, I've never been happier.”

Happy? Michael had been challenged, fulfilled—and lately, suffocated—by the job. But it had been a while since he could claim he was happy. Probably not since the first year or two when he'd had his dad's full attention and approval.

“Sounds like you're handling things nicely, Gary. Just be sure to call me if Tom Mason needs anything. I think he'll do his financing with us this time, then we'll aim for the umbrella of all their business.”

“I promise, I won't let you down big brother,” Gary said before he hung up.

Michael had a perfectly capable brother who didn't need him. And a perfectly rebellious niece who did.

He clasped his hands behind his head.

Dear God, I know I haven't spent enough time in prayer lately. I've felt cold inside since Patricia died and left me with Lisa to care for. Please give me guidance. I'm not used to having a living, breathing creature depending on me—not beyond a paycheck, anyway. Now Josie's made this offer to help me get to know Lisa.

With interlocked fingers, he massaged the back of his neck where a dull throb pounded out the beat of his heart.

It galled him to think he could need the help of the infuriating woman. Who was she to tell him how to do anything? Why, he could buy—

He stopped, a sick ache gnawing at him.

Forgive me, Lord, for the sin of pride.

If he could only find some way to persuade Lisa to leave Gatlinburg, then he wouldn't have to depend on Josie.
God, help me do this Your way, not my own.

The shrill ring of the ancient motel phone jerked his head up. He stared at the rotary dial a moment, perplexed, as if God Himself were calling. Then he laughed at the ridiculousness of the notion and answered it. “Hello?”

“I'm sorry I told you you're hopeless.”

Stunned to hear Josie on the line, he didn't respond.

“I felt guilty all the way home. And I can't concentrate on anything.”

He waited, a smile creeping up on him, to see how apologetic Josie could be.

“Mike, are you there?”

Amazingly, the sound of her voice cheered him, and something warm released inside him. “You're having a nice conversation all by yourself.”

“Why, you smart-aleck, good-for-nothing—”

“I thought you were calling to be nice.”

She made that funny little growling sound again. The one she made when she got aggravated. “Look, I'm sorry, okay? God has been convicting me like crazy. I'm convinced He's been urging me to call you. So here I am.”

The hairs on his arms prickled with chill bumps. “So what now?”

“My offer still stands. I'm willing to help you.”

“If you really wanted to help me, you'd talk Lisa into going home.”

“Not until you prove to me you'll be a good father to that love-starved girl.”

Love-starved? A good father?
It was enough to send him running the other direction.

But he had just asked God for guidance. Maybe He was providing it through Josie.

“Deal,” he said before he talked himself out of it.

“Deal?”

“Yes. You just promised to talk Lisa into going home with me if I learn to be a good…father.”

She remained silent.

“Josie?”

She sighed. “Okay. I'll do it.”

He knew he'd accepted a deal she hadn't meant to make. But despite the short time he'd known her, he was certain she would keep her word. Now he better understood why Lisa trusted Josie.

Out of the blue, his sister's face flashed though his mind, jarring him to think rationally. He'd just agreed to learn to be a guardian, a protector—a father—to his niece.

He'd just agreed to the impossible.

J
osie set a box of beads and tools on the end table, then grabbed her mug and inhaled the rich aroma of coffee. She exhaled all the stress of the day. After a tense twenty-four hours, she deserved this break, a chance to make a pair of earrings she'd recently designed.

As she curled up on the couch in her oldest sweatpants and sweatshirt, wet hair wrapped in a towel, satisfaction washed over her like the hot shower she'd just finished.

I've done what God asked me to do for Mike and Lisa. Nothing feels better.

Of course, she had no idea what the next step would be. But for now, all was well in the Miller household. She could enjoy the rest of her afternoon off and—

The doorbell rang. She was going to have to kill Lisa. “I'm coming,” she yelled, then groaned as she climbed out of her comfortable cocoon. So much for a peaceful afternoon.

She opened the door. “Lisa, if you forgot your key, I'm—”

Mike stood on the doorstep. “Looks like I interrupted.”

She held up her coffee mug. “Only the first relaxing moment I've had for myself in a week.”

“Oh. No big deal, then.”

“No big deal?”
You big selfish jerk.

He smiled. A dangerous smile that sent her insides into a tailspin.

“Seriously, I'm sorry,” he said. “I should have called first.”

With a confused tug on her sweatshirt, she said, “Well, yeah. And remember it next time.”

He laughed. “You shouldn't take life so seriously all the time. There is such a thing as kidding.”

“Don't talk to me about being serious. Take a look in the mirror.”

“I'm the one who dropped by spontaneously, aren't I?”

“You know, Mike, I never know what to expect from you.” She stepped back from the door. “Come on in. I guess you're here to see Lisa.”

“I am. I thought we could start getting to know each other by having dinner out.”

“Good idea. But she's not here yet.”

“She's still at the studio with that artist?”

“I assume so.”

His eyes narrowed. “Shouldn't she be supervised?”

“She's too old for me or you to be following her around.”

“I guess I do need to give her some room.”

“Room to make mistakes. To live and learn.”

After he sat on the couch, he spread his big hands over his knees. “I plan to help her avoid the mistakes her mother made.”

“Maybe your sister wouldn't have made the big mistakes if she'd been allowed to make smaller ones along the way.”

Instead of replying, he leaned his forearms on his thighs and studied the floor as if it might hold the answer to all his problems.

Josie left him to his thoughts and went to remove the towel from her hair and to grab the hairbrush from the bathroom counter. She returned and plopped down in her favorite chair—the one that was so well worn she had trouble getting out of it sometimes. “I have no idea how your sister was raised. It's just something to think about.”

“You may be right. We were all overprotective.”

As she brushed the tangles out of her matted hair, she watched the emotions play across Mike's face. “I take it she was rebellious.”

“Always.”

“Did your parents pressure her to fit their mold? Like they're pressuring Lisa?”

He thought for a minute. “No. But all three of us were expected to act like…well, Throckmortons.”

“Yep. Just like me.”

“Your parents expected you to act like a Throckmorton?” His mouth twitched in a near-smile, but he still looked sad.

She grinned back. “No, I didn't have to reach such lofty ideals. I only had to be a mere Miller.”

“Ah. I see.”

“You know, you'd probably be surprised at how much your sister and I would have had in common.”

“But you turned out fine.” He shrugged. “Obviously, she didn't.”

“So it's been about a year since she died?”

“Yes.”

Her curiosity—and intuition—made her ask, “Were there unusual circumstances surrounding her death?”

“Besides driving drunk at ninety miles per hour and careening off the road?” His tone cut off further questioning. It made Josie wonder exactly what had happened. Then again, maybe he'd simply never grieved and didn't want to face it now.

She would drop the subject since he seemed so determined. “So, do you want to take Lisa out by yourself tonight?” she asked.

“I had planned on it.” His eyes widened when he finally quit studying the floorboards and noticed Josie brushing her hair. His mother had probably taught him it was all kinds of rude for a woman to brush her hair in front of a man. Josie's own mother would pitch a fit.

“I'd love a nice quiet evening at home,” Josie said. “But it might not be best for Lisa.”

“In other words, she'll probably refuse to go with me.”

“I didn't say that. Not exactly.” Josie laughed. “Where were you planning to take her?”

“Somewhere nice so we can talk.”

“As your official adviser…forget it.”

“I'm not taking her to a fast-food joint.”

“A fast-food place would be perfect.” She pointed her hairbrush at him. “Remember, she's not a client you're trying to impress.”

“Give me a
little
credit.”

Josie pushed her way out of the chair. “Let's go find Lisa. It'll just take me a sec to fix my hair.”

As she fought a stubborn tangle, he nodded toward her head. “It's a fairly normal color when it's wet.”

She stopped mid tug. “You would never say that to anyone else.”

“Since I've been here, I've surprised myself a few times.”

She had sensed subtle changes in him already. “Hey, no problem. I think a person should speak his mind.”

“Okay, then. Why's it pink?”

That was Lisa's story to tell. “Let's just say it was a disastrous adventure.”

“Then why haven't you gone to a salon to have it corrected?”

Because that would make a dent in my savings.
“I'm cheap.” She shrugged. “And I figure my pink with Lisa's green brightens up the diner.”

 

Michael sat in the fast-food restaurant's indoor play area across from Lisa and Josie. The artificial light turned their hair hideous colors, which did nothing to brighten up
this
dining establishment.

And this wasn't just any establishment. Lisa, who'd insisted Josie come along, had also insisted they drive until they found one that had an indoor playground. They'd passed two perfectly good hamburger places. Now he knew why.

She'd chosen a table in the massive, echoing chamber on purpose. The decibel level, hitting around one-fifty as a child got his toe stepped on, prohibited any conversation at all.

So much for starting off with a nice bonding experience.

Concern swept over him as he watched his niece merely pick at the kid's meal she'd ordered. She'd eaten about three fries and one bite of cheeseburger. She'd ingested more ketchup than anything else.

“You need to eat more than that, Lisa,” he hollered.

“I'll get fat.”

He nodded toward Josie. “She's eaten every bite of a combo meal and isn't fat.”

Josie huffed. “Thanks for telling everyone for miles around.”

Pointing to the plastic tubes filled with kids, he raised his voice another notch. “If Lisa hadn't placed us in the middle of this cacophony just to avoid talking to me, I wouldn't have to yell.”

Josie sighed. He could see it, anyway. Not hear it. And she barely shook her head.

He'd blown it again. Why couldn't he think before criticizing? It obviously didn't do an ounce of good. As he watched in dread, Lisa slammed her uneaten food back into the word-search-decorated sack and dumped it—with great show—into the trash bin before stalking out of the restaurant.

He followed her lead and threw away the last couple of bites of his chicken sandwich. “I guess we're leaving.”

“Okay by me.” Josie cleaned her mess off the table.

As they exited the play area, and he could once again hear himself think, he said, “Does Lisa always eat so poorly?”

“I've had to remind her to eat sometimes, especially breakfast. But she seemed to eat okay before—”

He waited a moment, then filled in the blank. “Before I arrived.”

“I'm sorry. But, yes. This was the worst she's eaten since I met her.”

“I guess it'll just take time.”

“Yeah. Don't worry about it. And don't pressure her.”

Easier said than done.

Once he and Josie filed into his car, joining Lisa, and buckled seat belts, he adjusted his rearview mirror to see his niece in the backseat. “I'm sorry, Lisa. I have no right to comment on what you eat or on your choice of restaurant. You're old enough to make those decisions.”

In his peripheral vision, Josie smiled. “See, Lisa. He's teachable. And that's exactly what we're going to do.”

“Whadaya mean?” she asked.

This was the moment he'd avoided all evening. Lisa wouldn't be happy when she heard about the deal he and Josie had made. “She means…well, that I'm going to stay in town for a few days while she helps me learn to be a good…guardian.”

“You're teaming up against me?”

“No,” they said together.

“He—”

“She—” they said at the same time.

“See, you're giving me the company line already,” Lisa said.

Josie turned around in her seat. “Lisa, honey, your uncle needs to learn what you're all about. I offered to help.”

Lisa looked out the car window, her arms crossed tightly in front of herself. “If you two gang up on me, I'm out the door.”

“I promise we won't,” Michael said. “Just promise me you'll give it a chance.”

“I'm not promising anything.”

Would she promise if he threatened to lock her in the car until she did? Michael wanted to yell in frustration. His hands shook as he started the car and put it in Reverse. He didn't trust himself to speak. Nice words, words of assurance, weren't possible at the moment.

Please, God, help me understand how her mind works. Give me patience when all I want to do is shake her and make her do exactly what I want her to do. Why can't she see that I want what is best for her?

He swallowed hard to block the lump of fear trying to work its way to the surface.

 

Even with the dinner debacle, Michael managed to sleep that night. He awakened to a gorgeous morning in the Smoky Mountains and sipped coffee while standing on the surprisingly generous balcony of his motel room overlooking the Little Pigeon River. Crystal-clear water rushed over mounds of smooth, mossy rocks, creating a constant roar. The sound had lulled him to sleep at 10:00 p.m., the first time he'd been to bed before midnight in years.

Now, with caffeine fix in hand, he was more prepared to take on the world. Lisa included.

But first, he needed to call home. He dialed his parents' house.

“Hello?” his dad said.

“Hi. It's me.”

“Are you and Lisa coming home today?”

“No, sir. It's going to take some work to make her come along with me.”

“Well—Hold on, you mother's saying something.” He put his hand over the phone, muffling the sound, then removed it. “Your mother says to tell Lisa to call her. She wants to talk with her.”

Which meant that Grandmother wanted to lecture Lisa, trying to list all the reasons she needed to return to Charleston. He could just picture Josie's reaction to his mother's newest demands. “Tell Mother that we'll be there as soon as we possibly can.”

“Michael, I expect you back at the bank to tie up the Mason account.”

“I'm in touch with Gary on that. He can handle it.”

“I'm not so sure. We need you back here.”

“As soon as I'm finished dealing with Lisa.”

“You can't reason with the child. Bring her back whether she wants to come or not.”

Up until last night, he would have been inclined to agree that would be the best way to handle the situation. Now, he knew better, but he wouldn't be able to convince his dad.

“I'm sorry, Michael, your mother is signaling that we've got to hurry to be on time for Sunday school.”