McKettricks of Texas: Garrett (7 page)

“I'll have that, please,” Julie said. “Without the cheese. Unsweetened iced tea, too, with lemon.”

Gordon asked for a double-deluxe cheeseburger with curly fries and a side of coleslaw, plus a cola.

“Fishing must be hungry business these days,” Julie commented, to get the conversation going.

“I'm not fishing anymore,” Gordon answered. “I'm in construction.”

“I see,” Julie said, though of course she
didn't,
not really.

“How is Calvin?” Gordon asked.

“Except for his asthma, and he hasn't had any problems with that for a while, he's healthy and happy. He has a dog, a beagle named Harry, and he's been learning to ride horseback out on the Silver Spur.”

“I can't believe he's in kindergarten,” Gordon said.

Their drinks came, and neither of them spoke until the waitress had gone.

“Believe it,” Julie said. “Calvin can already read and do simple math, and he would have skipped kindergarten and gone directly into first grade if I hadn't refused to let him do that.”

Gordon watched her pensively, stirring his tall, icy cola with his straw. “I'm not here to make trouble, Julie,” he said.

“I didn't say you were,” Julie pointed out.

He grinned. “No,” he agreed, “you didn't. But you're not happy to see me, are you?”

“No,” Julie admitted glumly.

Gordon chuckled at that. “Okay,” he said. “That's fair. I appreciate the honesty.”

The food came, and Gordon took the time to salt and pepper his burger, line up the little wells of ketchup for dunking fries.

Julie cut her sandwich in half to make it more manageable and surprised herself by eating a few bites.

“I think I told you about Dixie,” Gordon began. “My wife?”

“You told me,” Julie said. “Are you still living in Louisiana?”

Gordon shook his head. “Dallas,” he said. “That's Dixie's hometown. Lots of construction going on, so I've been working steady.”

“That's good,” Julie said carefully.

She had lived with this man.

Made love with him, borne his child.

Even back then, in the throes of passion, she'd known so little about Gordon Pruett. Never met his parents and very few of his friends. She wondered, then and now, if he'd been trying to keep her a secret for some reason.

“Dixie's dad owns the construction company,” Gordon explained, with no trace of apology or defensiveness. “We have a nice home in a good neighborhood and—”

“You can't have Calvin,” Julie broke in, frightened again. Still. “I'm all he knows, and I won't just send him off to live with total strangers, Gordon.”

Gordon raised both hands in a bid for peace. “Julie,” he said, leaning toward her a little, his voice slow and earnest, “let's be clear from the beginning. I have no intention—
zero
—of going after full custody, or even
shared
custody. I'll continue to make the child-support payments. But I want to get to know Calvin, and have him get to know me.”

Julie eased up a little. Although her appetite was gone, she made herself eat a little more, so her blood sugar wouldn't plunge in the middle of the afternoon.

“And how would you go about this? Getting acquainted with Calvin, I mean?”

Gordon smiled, and Julie was reassured by the kind twinkle in his eyes. “Very slowly and carefully at first,” he replied. “Maybe we'd just go out for pizza in the beginning, or play some miniature golf. Of course, you'd be included in any outings Dixie and I planned for Calvin—we wouldn't expect you to be comfortable with any other kind of arrangement, at least in the beginning.”

Julie's relief must have shown clearly in her face, because Gordon reached across the table, took her hand in a gentle grip and gave it a fleeting squeeze.

“Except for spending the night with one or the other of my sisters, Libby or Paige, Calvin's never been away from home,” she said tentatively. “His asthma doesn't flare up very often, but when it does and it's bad, he's terrified. Usually the inhaler works, but sometimes he needs a ventilator.”

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.

Which was exactly why she was going to do it.

C
ALVIN
.

On a midnight-black horse.

As Julie drove into the yard at Tate and Libby's place late that afternoon, the sight of her child made her heart catch. Calvin looked not just happy, but transported, perched in that saddle with Garrett McKettrick behind him.

The reins rested easily in Garrett's leather-gloved hand, and his hat threw his face into shadow, but Julie felt his eyes on her as she stopped the Cadillac, shut off the motor and got out.

Man, boy and horse.

The image, Julie thought, with a sort of exhilarated terror, would remain in her mind forever, etched in sunlight, with the creek dancing behind and the sky a shade of lavender-blue that scalded her eyes.

“Look, Mom, I'm riding a horse!” Calvin crowed.

Her boy, her baby, was safe within the steely circle of Garrett's arms, she could see that plainly. And yet Julie's heart scrambled up into the back of her throat and flailed there as she thought of all the terrible things that
could
have happened.

A snake might have spooked the horse, causing him to be thrown. Badly hurt, or even killed.

Or something—some dirt mote or bit of pollen—could have brought on one of Calvin's rare but horrifying asthma attacks.

Did he have his inhaler handy, or was it still stashed in the bottom of his backpack, as usual?

She looked around, saw Tate on another horse nearby, Audrey riding in front of him, Ava holding on from behind. Libby smiled from over by the clothesline, where she was unpegging white sheets and dropping them into a basket.

Julie stared at her sister, amazed, angry, admiring. Libby's happy grin seemed to dim a little around the edges as she left the basket behind in the grass, billowing with what looked like captured clouds, and came toward her.

“Mom!” Calvin yelled again, evidently thinking Julie hadn't noticed him. “Look!
I'm riding a horse!
”

Julie's smile felt brittle on her face, and slippery, barely holding on to her mouth.
Be reasonable,
she told herself.
No need to panic.

“Isn't that—wonderful,” she said.

Libby was at her side by then. “He's all right,” she said, very quietly, and with big-sister firmness. “Garrett wouldn't let anything happen to Calvin, and Tate and I were right here all the time.”

Julie swallowed, watched as Garrett took off his hat, plunked it down on Calvin's head. The little boy's face disappeared inside the crown, and his muffled laugh of delight was sweet anguish to Julie.

Her Calvin.

It hurt to love so much.

“I guess this ride's over, pardner,” Garrett told Calvin, reclaiming the hat and settling it back on his own head. All
the while, the man's eyes never left Julie's face, and even caught up in a tangle of conflicting emotions, she would have given a lot to know what Garrett McKettrick was thinking just then.

Keeping one arm around Calvin's middle, Garrett swung his right leg over the horse's neck and jumped easily to the ground. Set Calvin on his feet.

Giggling, the little boy staggered slightly and whooped, “Whoa!”

Garrett was still watching Julie.

She marched toward him, gave another rigid smile and reached down to grab Calvin's hand.

“We have dinner plans,” she said, and while she was looking back at Garrett, she was actually
speaking
to Calvin.

Wasn't she?

Calvin looked up at her. The sun lit his hair, and he shielded his eyes with one grubby little hand. “But Tate's going to barbecue,” he protested. “Hot dogs and hamburgers and
everything.
”

“Another time,” Julie said.

Calvin jerked his hand free of hers, and she felt stung, somewhere down deep. “But I want to stay here!”

Garrett took off his hat again, held it in one hand as he crouched next to Calvin. “A cowboy always speaks respectfully to a lady,” he told the boy, “especially when that lady is his mama.”

Calvin's lower lip jutted out. “She's just mad because I got on a horse without permission,” he said. He turned to Julie again, his round little face and baby-blue eyes full of rebellion. “Aunt Libby
said
I could ride with Garrett! And she's the boss of me when you're not here!”

Inwardly, Julie sighed. Outwardly, she kept her cool.
“We can talk about this in the car, Calvin,” she said evenly. “Get your backpack, please. Right now.”

Furious, Calvin pounded off toward the house to retrieve his belongings.

Garrett rose back to his full height. For a moment, it seemed he was about to say something, but in the end he just turned, stuck a foot in the stirrup and mounted again. He rode up alongside Tate, and one of the twins—Audrey, Julie thought—leaped from her dad's horse to her uncle's, whooping like a Comanche on the warpath.

Garrett and Tate turned their horses and rode down the gently sloping creek-bank to let the animals drink.

Which meant Julie and Libby were alone for the moment, with Calvin still inside the house.

“If you didn't want Calvin to ride,” Libby said mildly, “you should have told me.”

Julie realized she'd been holding her last breath and let it out in a whoosh. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I was just—startled.”

Libby raised one eyebrow, watching Julie closely. “Startled?”

Julie bit her lower lip. “Gordon is in town,” she said, very quietly, watching as Calvin stormed out of the house again, his backpack bump-dragging behind him. “Calvin and I are having dinner with him and the wife.”

“Tonight?” Libby asked.

Julie nodded brusquely. “Yes. How do I prepare Calvin for this? What do I say, Libby? ‘After five years, your father has finally decided he wants to meet you'?”

Libby put an arm around her, gave her a squeeze. “So
that's
why you were so peevish and unreasonable.”

“I was
not
peevish and—”

“Yes, you were,” Libby interrupted, smiling. “It's okay,
Jules. I know you get stressed out about Calvin sometimes. I understand.”

Libby
did
understand, and the knowledge was so soothing to Julie that she finally began to relax.

“I was having fun!” Calvin declared, standing a few feet away now, and glaring up at Julie. “Until
you
came along, anyway!”

“Calvin Remington,” Julie said, “that's quite enough. Get in the car.”

“Goodbye, Aunt Libby,” he said, with all due drama. “If I don't see you again, because my
mother
is mad at you for letting me
have fun,
and she sends me away to
military school,
I'll get in touch as soon as I'm eighteen!”

Julie held on to her stern face—Calvin's behavior was
not
acceptable—but there was a giggle dancing inside her all the same. Just like the one she saw twinkling in her sister's eyes.

Libby waggled her fingers at Julie. “See you tomorrow?” she asked.

“See you tomorrow,” Julie confirmed, with a sigh.

 

“I
S THAT HIM
?” Calvin whispered, a little over an hour later, when Julie led him into the Amble On Inn's small café. Gordon rose from a table over by the jukebox as they entered, while the lovely blonde woman accompanying him remained seated. “Is that my dad?”

“Yes,” Julie said. After giving Calvin a lecture for acting like a brat at Libby and Tate's house, she'd explained about their dinner plans. He'd been unusually quiet since then, hadn't even protested when she'd made him shower and change clothes. “That's him.”

It all seemed surreal.

How many times, over the short course of Calvin's life,
had she hoped Gordon would change his mind, take a real interest in their son, be a father to him?

An old saying came to mind:
Be careful what you wish for….

Gordon had crossed the room, and now he stood facing them. His gaze connected briefly with Julie's—he mouthed the word “thanks”—and then dropped to Calvin.

“Hey, buddy,” Gordon said, putting out a hand.

Calvin studied his father's hand for a few moments, his expression solemn and wary, but finally, he reached out.

They shook hands. “Hey,” Calvin replied, looking the stranger up and down.

Julie gave his back a reassuring pat. Silent-speak for
Everything's going to be okay.

“Anybody hungry?” Gordon asked, gesturing toward the table, where the blonde waited, smiling nervously. She was dressed in a pale rose cotton skirt with a ruffled top to match, and her hair fell past her shoulders in a sumptuous tumble of spun gold. Her skin and teeth were perfect.

“We were
supposed
to have barbecue at Aunt Libby's,” Calvin said gravely, though he allowed Gordon to steer him toward the blonde and the table.

The evening to come, Julie knew, would be pivotal, changing all their lives forever, even if it went well. If, on the other hand, things went badly…

Julie reined in her imagination.

“Hush, Calvin,” she said, looking around. The scarred café tables, the patched-vinyl chair seats and backs, the crisply pressed gingham curtains—all of it was familiar, and therefore comforting.

“I'm Dixie,” Gordon's wife said, as he pulled back a chair for Julie.

“Julie,” she responded—warmly, she hoped—once she was seated. Calvin took the chair beside hers, and Gordon sat with his wife, the two of them beaming at Calvin, drinking him in with their eyes.

A sort of haze descended, at least for Julie. Later, she would remember that Gordon had been wearing a blue-and-white-striped shirt, and that Dixie had ordered a chef's salad with Thousand Island dressing on the side, and that nothing of staggering importance had been said, but she would not be able to recall what she'd eaten, or what Calvin had, either.

After dessert—there
had
been dessert, because Calvin had a smudge of something chocolate on the clean shirt he'd put on after his bath, back at the ranch house—Dixie produced a digital camera from the depths of her enormous cloth handbag and took what seemed like dozens of pictures—Calvin by himself, Calvin posing with a crouching, grinning Gordon.

Telephone numbers were swapped, and Dixie promised to e-mail copies of the photographs as soon as she and Gordon got home.

Calvin, though polite, seemed detached, too.

After the goodbyes were said in the parking lot, and he was safely buckled into his car seat in the back of the Cadillac, Julie slipped behind the wheel and waited a beat before speaking.

“So,” she said, as Dixie and Gordon went by in their big blue SUV, Gordon flashing the headlights to bright once, in cheery farewell. “That's your dad. What do you think?”

Calvin was quiet.

“Calvin?” Julie finally prompted, adjusting the rearview mirror until her son's face was visible.

At some length, Calvin huffed out a sigh. “I thought it would be different, having a dad,” he said. “I thought
he
would be different.”

“What do you mean?” Julie asked carefully, making no move to start up the car, though she
had
pressed the lock button as soon as she and Calvin were both inside.

“I was hoping he'd turn out to be a cowboy,” Calvin admitted. “Like Tate and Garrett and Austin.”

“Oh,” Julie said, at a loss.

“But he's a builder guy instead,” Calvin mused.

“That's good, isn't it? Building things?”

“I guess,” Calvin allowed, sounding way too world-weary for a five-year-old. “I bet he gets to wear a hard hat and a toolbelt and cool stuff like that, but I kind of liked it better when I could still wonder, you know?”

She
did
know. Calvin's IQ was off the charts. Young as he was, he'd probably constructed a pretty imaginative Fantasy Father in that busy little head of his. Now, he was going to have to get to know the real one, and he was bright enough to see the challenges ahead.

“Yeah,” she said, very gently. She hadn't hooked up her seat belt yet, and turned sideways so she could look back at Calvin instead of watching him in the rearview. “Is something else bothering you, big guy?”

Calvin took a long time answering. “Do I have to visit my dad someplace far away, like Audrey and Ava visit their mom in New York sometimes?”

Julie's heart slipped a notch. “Not unless that's what you want,” she said, when she'd injected a smile into her voice. “And you don't have to decide for a long time.”

“Good,” Calvin said, and the note of relief in his voice brought tears to Julie's eyes—again.

She turned once more, facing forward now, waited a few breaths, hooked on her seat belt and started the car.

“I thought I wanted a dad,” Calvin confided, when they were on the main road and headed out of town. “Now, I'm not so sure. I think maybe having Tate and Garrett and Austin for uncles might be good enough.”

Julie swallowed. “Well,” she said, with manufactured brightness, “like I said, you don't have to decide right away.” The Welcome to Blue River sign fell behind them, and it seemed to her that the night was subtly darker, the stars a little closer to the earth.

“How come you got so mad about me riding the horse?” Calvin asked, when they were well out of town, almost to the tilted mailbox marking the turnoff to Libby and Tate's little house. “I wasn't all by myself, you know. I wouldn't have gotten hurt, because Garrett was right there, behind me.”

“Tell you what,” Julie offered, after taking another long breath. “I'll say sorry for reacting without thinking first and getting all overprotective when I saw you on that horse, if you'll say sorry for the rude tone.”

Calvin considered the deal.