Family in His Heart (3 page)

She snapped the off button and picked up the ice bucket. Outside, she located the motel’s ice supply, filled the container and returned to her room.

What would people who lived on the island be doing? She couldn’t see the water from the highway motel, but she tried to imagine. Nick was probably sitting in front of the TV watching sports or the news while waiting for his wife to prepare dinner. She glanced at her watch. Maybe they’d eaten already. She pictured a cozy nook with a white tablecloth, the family chatting over dinner.

Maybe Nick wasn’t married. He needed a housekeeper, so possibly he was single, raising a son alone. Did he cook dinner or live on frozen meals as she so often did?

Enough. She shot from the chair. She’d rather work the night shift at the restaurant than spend the evenings alone. She paced the room, looking outside at the occasional car that shot along the highway. Goaded by her boredom, Rona thought of Shirley Bailey and tried to remember where she lived. She couldn’t just drop by without calling.

With a purpose in mind, Rona headed to the motel office. The woman she’d seen earlier greeted her as she entered.

Rona smiled and leaned against the counter. “Do you have a local telephone book I could use?”

“Certainly.” The woman reached into a niche below the desk and brought up a scrawny book that caused Rona to grin.

“Thanks,” she said, opening the cover. This time Rona couldn’t control her quiet chuckle. The book covered not only Hessel, but Cedarville, Rockport and other small cities nearby. She located the Hessel section and scanned the B’s. Bailey. Samuel Bailey. Shirley still used her husband’s name in the directory. Rona had tried to forget her husband’s name as soon as she could.

She dug into her purse for a pen and paper and jotted the number on the back of her grocery receipt. With thanks, she slid the book toward the woman and stepped outside.

Heading for her car, she pulled the cell phone from her shoulder bag, then leaned against the sedan and pressed in the Bailey phone number.

Nick stepped onto his dock and moored the boat. He looked up the incline to the house—the lonely house. Though he and Gary seemed like strangers, his son made noise and sometimes had breakfast or dinner with him. He wished he knew how to talk with Gary. They were like two islands connected by a drawbridge that had risen and never came down again.

He wondered if all parents of teenagers felt like he did. He barely knew Gary’s friends anymore. He didn’t bring them home and avoided talking about them, and the ones he knew from church had faded from Gary’s life. Nick didn’t even know the girl his son had wrapped in his arms at the school.

Facing that things had to change, Nick drew in a breath and headed inside. The pervading trees blocked the lowering sun except for the living room and the dining room. He snapped on a light to brighten the gloom that surrounded him.

The kitchen sink still held their cereal bowls from the morning. Nick rinsed them and slipped the bowls into the dishwasher. He drained coffee from the carafe, cleaned the used grounds and made a fresh pot. The silence pressed against his ears except for the soft groan of the water warming in the coffeemaker.

He sank onto a kitchen chair, his mind drifted to the sunny diner in Hessel and the intriguing woman he’d met. Nick had seen more sparkle in her eyes than he’d seen in years.

Yet beneath the glint of curiosity and humor, she’d been wary. He sensed it. But why wouldn’t she be? He’d been a stranger who invited her to sit with him and then talked in circles.

Nick should have asked her if she’d consider a housekeeping job. He called it that, but he needed someone in the house for more than housekeeping. Nick longed for someone to bring life to his home as well as keep the dust bunnies from multiplying and taking over. Most of all he wanted someone to keep an eye on Gary.

His past housekeeper, Angie, had decided to move to a big city, as she’d called it. He chuckled. If she thought St. Ignace was a big city, wait until she laid her eyes on Bay City or Saginaw.

Rona, he guessed, had come from the city. Maybe even Detroit. She had that look about her, and he heard concern in her voice about finding work and getting settled in the small town. Hessel’s population was even smaller than Cedarville where Gary’s high school was located.

The thought reminded him of his difficulties with Gary. Cedarville, that was the problem. He knew people in Hessel, but not as many in Cedarville. He didn’t have as many connections there. Maybe he could get involved in some way. The idea rattled in his head. He had so little time. How could he get involved?

The scent of coffee aroused his senses. He rose and filled his favorite cup, then ambled into the living room where he could look out at the lake. Shades of gold spread across the water; he watched the changing sky for a moment, then headed for the family room and caved into the recliner. He leaned his head against the cushion and looked through one of the windows beside the fireplace. The flowering trees and the darkening leaves reminded him that summer was almost here.

He looked away from the pleasant view as his mind headed toward his problems. What could he do to make a difference in his and Gary’s lives? He couldn’t go on like this. He had businesses to run, responsibilities to handle and now a son who appeared to hate him. He closed his eyes, hoping God would send him a message, anything to give him a hint of where he’d gone wrong.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her picture on the mantle. Jill. Her face laughing into the camera. He’d lived with the other side of Jill as well, the brooding side. Studying the photo he noticed Gary looked like her. He only had Nick’s light brown hair and maybe a similar smile, the smile he hadn’t seen much lately.

Nick rose and lifted the framed photograph. Each time he saw it, guilt knifed his heart. He slid it into the small secretary desk drawer. He didn’t need to be reminded of what he’d done. Life had moved on and Jill was in heaven, happier than she could have ever been on earth. He knew that for sure.

The sun had faded and Nick snapped on the light and ambled to the kitchen. Too weary to make dinner, he tossed lunch meat on two pieces of bread, took a big bite and headed back to the recliner.

By the time he’d settled back and tilted the chair, the sandwich had vanished. With a final sip of coffee, Nick closed his eyes, mulling over possibilities. He had batted zero finding a housekeeper. He just needed to be direct and see if Rona would be interested. At least he’d have one thing off his mind if she accepted.

Rona shifted in the comfy chair, feeling good to be here again in the Bailey’s cozy home.

“For a minute there, I didn’t recognize your name when you called.” The elderly woman grinned. “But then I remembered you were the little blond girl with straight hair and bangs.”

Straight hair and bangs.
Memories swept over Rona. “That was me.” Her mind flew back to her skinny legs and scrawny body. She’d hated it then, but she looked at her rounder figure now and wished she had a little of that thinness today.

“You visited a few times with Janie, I remember.”

A few times. Yes, and the trips had always been such a wonderful reprieve from her difficult childhood. The Bailey house brimmed with sunshine, smiles and a cozy comfort she’d never known at home. Her mother tried, but her father had dashed all attempts to the ground.

“At least that’s what I recall,” Mrs. Bailey said as if questioning her own recollections.

Rona swallowed her memories. “You’re right, Mrs. Bailey. I visited numerous times. I haven’t seen Janie in years. I hope she’s well.”

“She’s fine. Lives in California with her husband and three children. Sweet kids.”

Husband and three kids. California.
“That’s great.” Envy prickled along Rona’s neck, thinking of friends happily married with kids. Kids she’d never have.

“I’m so glad you called tonight. There’s nothing good on TV on Mondays.”

Rona held back a laugh. “I’m not sure any night is good, especially trying to watch anything on the motel’s TV.”

Mrs. Bailey leaned closer. “Where are you staying?”

“Up the road. Some small cabins.”

She nodded.

Rona wondered if she had heard her. “Just up the road,” she said, raising her volume.

“Those small cabins?”

“That’s right.” She’d wondered why sometimes the woman had given her a blank look. Now she knew.

“How long are you visiting?”

She’d told her earlier. Rona cranked up her volume. “I’m planning to stay for a while. Settle down here, I think.”

Her eyes brightened. “Really?” She cocked her head as if thinking. “You’ll have to drop by now and again. I don’t have lots of visitors nowadays since Sam’s gone.”

“I was sorry to hear about his passing.”

Greeted by another blank stare, Rona repeated herself, this time, louder.

“Yes, it’s been a little over a year since Sam died.” She looked across the room a moment and Rona followed her gaze but didn’t see anything particular that had drawn her attention. “Hard to believe he’s gone, except it’s lonely.”

Lonely. Rona knew that word well. “I’m sure it is. I’d be happy to stop by when I can.”

Mrs. Bailey perked up. “Good. I’ll make cookies.”

Sadness swept over Rona. She’d felt lonely when her mother died, but she’d built up a wall to protect herself. But recently that protection had failed and the same hollow feeling seemed to overwhelm her again at times.

“Are you retired?” She leaned back, her mind seeming to drift.

Don’t I wish. But when the question struck Rona, she closed her jaw and wondered if she looked that old. “I’m too young to retire. I found—”

The elderly woman’s eyes widened. “What was I thinking?” She shook her head. “I know you’re a young woman. Sometimes my mouth doesn’t check in with my brain.”

This time Rona laughed out loud. “That’s okay. Mine doesn’t either. I found a job in Hessel this afternoon at the Harbor Inn.” She told the woman what had happened.

“Doesn’t the Lord provide when we need Him?”

The Lord? Rona figured it had been her quick decision and downright luck.

“Do you have friends here?”

Friends.
Rona’s shoulders lifted in a sigh. “Not really. I met another waitress today named Mandy, but she’s rather young.” Nick’s image sprang to her mind. “And I talked with a man named Nick.”

“Nick? The only Nick I know around here is Nick Thornton.”

Rona’s pulse tripped. “You know him?”

“Everyone knows Nick Thornton. He owns some big businesses around here. Even ran for city council before his wife died. Such a tragedy.”

Relief washed over her, then backlashed and the sensation rocked her. What did she have to be relieved about?

“He’s a good Christian man. If you get tired of working at Harbor Inn, you might ask him about a job. I’m sure he knows what’s happening in town.”

Her mind flew back to the restaurant. She could see Nick’s deep scowl when he said there was work if you knew where to look. They’d become silent while she waited for him to say more, but he hadn’t. “Where should I look?” she’d asked, and his answer had set her back. “At me.”

At him? Had that been what he meant, only that he knew where there were jobs? She’d hoped he’d been referring to his housekeeper position. She eyed her watch. “I suppose I should get back to the motel before I can’t find my way home in the dark.”

“Too late.” Mrs. Bailey swung her arm toward the window. “It’s already dark. You’re welcome to spend the night.”

“Thanks, but I need to get back. Anyway, I’ve been in the dark before.” Rona heard the unintentional irony of her statement.

She’d been in the dark too long, but not anymore. Never again.

“G
ary. You’ll be late for school.”

Nick listened and heard nothing.

“Gary!”

He stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting. He didn’t want to play the silent game with his son. That’s what he’d received this past year. He’d tried everything to no avail and his frustration had grown to bitterness.

“Gary!” His voice boomed up the staircase.

No sound.

Gary hadn’t awakened him last night when he arrived home. The recliner had been Nick’s downfall. He’d fallen so sound asleep he hadn’t heard Gary come in. When he woke, he’d checked his watch—midnight—turned off the TV and hurried upstairs to check on Gary.

When he peeked in his room, it was dark, but he’d seen Gary’s bumpy form and felt relieved. He’d actually gotten home. Still he’d been tempted to wake Gary and find out what time he’d come in, but doing so would have been antagonistic. The situation had taught him a lesson. Nick realized he needed to stay awake if wanted to be a good father—his definition, not Gary’s. To Gary a good father was one who doled out money, said yes to everything and never asked anything of him.

Nick gave another yell up the staircase, then shook his head, grabbed the banister and took the steps two at a time to the top. He charged down the hallway and blasted his fist against his son’s bedroom door. “Gary!”

When he heard no sound, his pulse lurched. What was wrong? Tragedy happened in the blink of an eye. He’d experience it with Jill. The memory flooded him. God wouldn’t let something happen to his son.
Please,
he whispered. He pushed the door open, his pulse throbbing in his temple.

In the muted light, Nick saw the tangled blankets and same lump. His pulse escalated and he felt weak.

“Gary.” He stepped over shoes and clothing in clumps on the floor and grasped the blanket. He pulled it back. Empty. A pillow and twisted blankets created the form he’d seen. Intentional? He had no idea, but the possibility stabbed him and he prayed the lump had only been caused by Gary’s usual messy treatment of his room.

Nick’s stomach churned, but as he stepped back, he gathered his wits and strained to listen for the shower. Gary always took a shower in the morning. He darted to the bathroom farther down the hall. The door stood open. Struck by reality, Nick knew Gary hadn’t come home last night.

He slammed his fist against the bathroom door-jamb. He felt as if he and Gary lived in two different worlds and nothing could unlock the door. At the same time, fear spiked his anger and his pulse kicked in again. A boating accident? Car accident?

Nick charged to the staircase and at the bottom of the stairs, he stopped and got a grip on himself. Yesterday Gary had mentioned Phil. Nick knew Phil. He even knew the boy’s dad. He released a ragged breath, pulled up his shoulders and headed for the phone.

After finding the number in the phonebook, he punched it in, then waited as the telephone rang. No answer. His hope faded until he eyed his watch again. Phil’s dad had probably left for work and his wife had perhaps driven the boys to school. When the answering machine clicked on, he started to hang up, then heard a hello.

“This is Gary Thornton’s father. I—”

“The boys left for school already, Mr. Thornton.”

“Then Gary did—” He stopped himself, ashamed to admit he hadn’t known that his son had spent the night. “Thanks. I’ll catch him later.”

What kind of a father didn’t know where his kid was? He gripped the receiver, wanting to throw it through the wall, then hung it up, knowing he was angry at himself as much as Gary.

Whose fault was their rotten relationship? Maybe his. He should ask for names and phone numbers of all his son’s friends. He sank onto a kitchen stool and lowered his face in his hands. Lord, give me direction. Help me be the father I should be. I don’t know what to say to Gary or what to do that won’t bring a sneer.

Nick rubbed his face, his appetite gone though he’d eaten little the night before. He pushed away the coffee he’d made, turned off the pot and headed outside. He’d have to deal with the situation the only way he knew how.

Walking down to the boathouse, Nick drew in the spring air, wishing he felt as filled with fresh expectation. Things were growing around him, but his life seemed to have died in a stagnant pool of regret. He could see shades of green burst from the trees after the starkness of winter and he longed to have his life fresh again. He yearned for hope of something new and shining in his life.

Instead, he faced an angry son and an empty bed. Jill had been gone for three years and though their marriage had its bad moments, Nick had prayed they would stick it out and bring their relationship back to life. Since her death his loneliness had never faded, the deep empty space in his heart filled with regret.

Turning the key, Nick heard the motor purr. He steered to the shoreline and docked in Hessel. He located his SUV behind Lindberg Cottages and as he pulled away, he let his attention settle on the Harbor Inn and on the pretty woman with the long, golden-streaked hair. Rona. A pretty name for a pretty lady.

He’d thought of her last night, sitting alone in the quiet house. Why had he been drawn to her? Maybe her generous offer to help Bernie had triggered his admiration. She’d captured his interest and it unsettled him. No woman had cut through his anguish until yesterday and Rona had done it without trying.

Heading for Cedarville and the school, Nick’s mind darkened to his situation with Gary. Being a good business man, he wondered why he couldn’t transfer the talent to raising a son. Each situation took control, planning and wisdom. He’d been trained in the business world. He knew it backward and forward, but he had no training to be a father.

Everything took training and talent. Rona had mentioned she’d been a waitress. She knew the job. That had been obvious.

As he watched her work, he saw she had spirit. He recalled Jill’s lackadaisical approach to life. She wanted him to be more laid-back, but he’d been too honed to a structured work ethic. Now he realized he needed to change.

He had yesterday, sitting around Harbor Inn as if he had scads of time. Nick wondered what drove Rona. The look of concern in her eye when he’d first spoken to her had interested him, because it contrasted to her confidence as she worked.

The thought lingered as he pulled up in front of the school. He turned off the motor and headed inside to the front office. A secretary looked up from her computer. “Can I help you?”

“Attendance. Would you check to see if my son is in school?”

She rose and flagged him behind the counter. “Our attendance lady is down here. She might have the absence slips for this hour.”

He followed her down the hall, then stood beside the desk and waited until the clerk looked up.

“And you are…?” the woman asked, her eyes questioning him.

“Gary Thornton’s dad. I want to make sure he’s in school today.”

She nodded. “I saw him this morning.” She turned to the computer, apparently typing in his name. “He’s in history this hour.” She shuffled through the pink slips and nodded. “He’s not on the absence list, so he must be here. Do you want to speak with him?”

Nick struggled a moment for the answer. “If I could.”

She wrote the room number on a slip of paper and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said, clasping the paper and stepping through a door to the hallway. He glanced at the note and grinned. A hall pass. He hadn’t seen one of those since he was in school. He headed to the end of the corridor. H Hall the metal placard said on the wall. Gary was in H109.

Nick eyed the numbers above the doorway. H105. H107. He faltered outside of H109. What now? He could see the teacher pacing in the front of the room through the glass slit in the door. A hum of voices came through the transom. He straightened his back and knocked.

The hum quieted, then raised in volume and he could hear the teacher’s shushing. He watched her head his way and the door opened. She appeared to be surprised to see an adult.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Gary’s dad. Gary Thornton. Could I speak to him a minute.”

“He’s reviewing for a test, but he can have a minute.”

The door surged closed and Nick felt his heartbeat kick. When the door sprang open again, Gary’s scowl faced him.

“Dad!”

Nick waved to him to close the door, then motioned him to step away from the window. “Where were you last night?”

“Phil’s. He couldn’t get the car to bring me home.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

Gary’s face twisted. “I’m not a child.”

“As long as you live under my roof, you’ll follow my rules, Gary.”

“I can move out.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Oh, so I’m bound to you like a slave.”

Nick’s stomach knotted and he saw he had headed into a direction he hadn’t meant to go. “Gary, look. I don’t want a slave and I don’t want a prisoner. I want a son. I care about you. I was worried until I called Phil’s.”

Gary drew back. “You called Phil’s?”

“Yes. His mother said you’d left for school.”

“Great.” Gary jammed his hands into his pockets. “I suppose you told her I hadn’t gotten permission to stay.”

Nick looked into his eyes. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to ruin the trust you have with Phil’s parents.”

Gary’s gaze flickered, as if weighing what Nick had said. Trust. The whole mess was about trust. Nick wanted to trust his son and maybe that’s what he needed. They both needed to earn each other’s trust.

“We can talk later. You’re taking a test. I’m glad you’re in school and I’m glad you’re safe. I lost your—” He shook his head, biting back his words. Nick had lost his wife, but how could he forget Gary had lost a mother. “I lost my temper.”

Gary’s face softened and he lowered his head.

“Go back inside. I’ll see you at home.”

Gary put his hand on the knob, then glanced over his shoulder as he stepped back into the classroom. “Thanks.”

His single word had nearly been lost by the students’ noise inside the classroom, but Nick heard it. He stood a moment in thought, then turned and strode outside, thanking God that he’d found words that had made a difference. He hadn’t heard a thank-you from Gary in more than a year.

Nick climbed into the SUV, struggling with what to do about the situation. He could ground him until—until what? He promised to be a good boy? Until he promised to show respect. That would work for a beginning, but at the moment the thank-you had salved Nick’s frustration and he let the question drop.

When he arrived at the marina, Nick started down toward his boat, but changed his mind and ambled toward the restaurant. Maybe he should eat a late breakfast, then get back to his paperwork.

Breakfast. Who was he kidding?

When he stepped inside, the aroma of coffee and bacon danced around him. He scanned the room. No Rona. Then the kitchen door swung open and she came out wheeling a cart into the dining room.

“Have a seat anywhere,” Bernie called through the serving window.

Nick gave him a wave and noted the direction Rona had moved in to clear tables. He found a window spot along the front and watched her.

Rona stacked dishes, tossed silverware into a plastic container and piled the soiled dinnerware into the cart. She wiped off the table and spun around before she saw Nick.

Her face flickered from surprise to an uneasy smile. She raised her hand in a hello and continued to the next table. She placed a cup and spoon on the cart, swiped the table clean, and parked the cart beside the counter before approaching him with her order pad. “Hi.” She gave him a questioning look. “Can I help you?”

He needed help, but he wasn’t sure anyone could solve his problems except the Lord. “How about a coffee and toast.”

She tilted her head and frowned. “That’s not much for a lumberjack.”

It took a minute for her comment to register, then he felt his tension ease. “Okay, then add some scrambled eggs with cheese.”

“And a side order of bacon?” She tapped the eraser end of the pencil against the pad.

He remembered the aroma that first struck him when he entered; his stomach gave a hungry gnaw. “And bacon.”

“Coming right up,” she said, her face relaxing to an easy smile.

Realizing he’d forgotten to pick up the morning paper, Nick rose and headed toward the door, but before going outside to the box, he spotted an abandoned edition folded at the end of the counter with no one around. He motioned toward the paper. “Anyone own this?”

A woman sitting nearby shrugged. “Looks like it’s yours.”

When he returned to his table he noticed the steaming coffee cup already waiting. She was fast. His gaze drifted toward the kitchen door. He shouldn’t have walked off so quickly.

Sometimes he yearned for friendly conversation—different from business talk or a casual “nice weather” to the postman. He longed for a conversation about meaningful things, life and faith, even disciplining children.

He’d notice Rona’s ring finger absent of a wedding ring and his speculation launched again.