The Dad Next Door

“Of course.” Kate sat back down, feeling a warm glow in spite of herself. It was nice to be needed. She watched him covertly, seeing the hard clear line of his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he moved to the little phone table near the door, the way he picked up the phone and punched in the numbers. Apparently someone answered almost immediately.

“Lydia? Ian here. How are you? Getting enough sun over there?” Then a pause. “Yeah, we’re snowed in.” Then a longer pause. “Actually, I’d like to speak to Justin if he’s available. Oh, fine. Yes. Marsha’s here. She’s told me about the marriage.” Longer pause. “Of course I’m glad she’s found someone. I wish them every happiness. I…Oh, okay. Hello, Justin. Yes, I was just telling Lydia that Marsha came here to Seattle.”

There was a much longer pause as he listened intently to his former father-in-law. “Yes, she told me that, too. It’s out of the question, of course. I would never agree to give up my son. Never.” Then he listened quietly for a long time. Finally, his tone sounding relieved, he said, “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your support on this, and I will think about some sort of boarding school, but for now I have another arrangement I want to try. Why don’t I call you again when I’ve got it firmed up? Raymond’s pretty upset. There was some trouble at school and he got the short end of it.”

They talked a while longer and Kate felt a growing sense of relief. Apparently Marsha’s father was in agreement with Ian. When Ian rang off he came back to the couch.

“Well, that’s that for now,” he said with a sigh. “I wish the weather would break so I could get Marsha to some hotel. I know she can’t get out of Seattle yet. We had the news on the radio coming back from the doctor’s and Sea-Tac is snowed in. Nothing’s coming in or going out. Which reminds me. I didn’t finish telling you about what Dr. Madison said. I really have to go down to Raymond’s school. They don’t want the gangs to get down into the middle schools, or next it’s the elementary schools. The world’s gone nuts. I understand that the Seattle police have a special gang unit that needs to know these things.”

“That’s encouraging, at least,” Kate said. “When you told Colonel Greer you had another arrangement you wanted to try, was that…?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Raymond’s so stressed-out I guess I’d better go along with the homeschooling. At least for a while. When he’s with you…Kate, you have no idea how much you mean to that boy. And since you offered, I…”

“Oh, yes, I’m eager to try it, Ian,” Kate said, feeling a rush of excitement. “School is closed for students now, but I’ll bet the administrative offices aren’t. I’ll talk to someone tomorrow. I’ll check with Pastor Ledbetter for some coaching first,” she added. Somehow she had to make this work, for everybody’s sake.

“Justin means well, but he’s one of those people who thrive on stress and pressure. He doesn’t really understand that some people can’t. He made it through seven years as a POW in Viet Nam. You’ve never met him, have you?”

“No. Mrs. Greer was here once, to see Raymond, and I met her, but not the colonel.”

“He’s one of those thin wiry guys, quiet, soft spoken, never hurried, never rattled, a real old-line gentleman, but hard as nails underneath. His idea, and he honestly believes it, is that a good military school would ‘toughen Ray up’—his phrase, not mine. I think I know my boy, and that toughening-up process kids in a military academy go through would scatter what reserves Ray has left. If I have to settle for a boarding school it’s going to be one more laid-back than that.”

“You won’t have to settle for any boarding school,” Kate said firmly. Oh, God, please help me. I’m not sure I know what I’m doing.

“I’ll help you all I can between trips. I wish…”

“You wish what?”

He sighed. “I wish I hadn’t pushed so hard for this promotion that keeps me on the road so much. But it’s part of the game. And it’ll be a while before I move past it. Thank heaven you stepped in to take over Raymond’s care. You just looked at your watch. Am I keeping you from something?”

“I was just checking to see how much time I have until I start dinner. And I’ve got almost an hour yet.”

“Time to look over that homeschooling stuff again?’ he asked hopefully.

“Yes. I was just thinking that.” And a few minutes later they were seated at the dining-room table with the contents of Pastor Ledbetter’s battered briefcase spread before them.

“I talked a bit with Dr. Madison about this,” Ian said, “and she thought anything that takes the pressure off Ray would be good. You and he get along so well. He does things for you that he’d dig his heels in about with anyone else. This may be the answer, at least for the time being.”

They studied the material together, finding little nuggets of agreement and encouragement.

“Your pastor is right about the less rigid system. You and the kids don’t want to burn out trying to imitate a school,” Ian said.

“And look,” Kate said. “Look at the educational stuff available at Seattle Center and the Pacific Science Center. I’ll call tomorrow and get on their mailing lists.”

They were interrupted by the phone ringing. It was Kate’s mother, Beth, who ran a successful bed-andbreakfast about ten blocks away.

“Kate, dear,” she said, “can’t you get through with the muffins?”

“Oh, good grief, Mom. I got involved with… something here and clean forgot. Don’t tell me you actually have more guests. How did they get through from Sea-Tac or wherever?”

Beth laughed. “They didn’t. These are the ones who can’t get out. So they are staying on until meltdown. I’m temporarily a boardinghouse, serving three meals a day. It’s only humane, since they’re stuck here playing Scrabble and doing your dad’s old jigsaw puzzles.”

At the mention of her late father Kate felt again the sense of loss. How she would have loved to talk things over with Dad. She could certainly use his gentle common-sense wisdom now.

“Just a minute, Mom,” she said, turning to Ian. “Ian, I make those miniature muffins twice a week for Mom’s guest house. You know the ones I mean. I was supposed to be making them today. I can whip up a few batches now. When they’re done could you take me over in your van? It got through fine this morning.”

“Sure. No problem.”

“Mom, do you need anything else besides muffins? You know I have a lot of canned summer fruit and frozen vegetables from my garden. Maybe you’d better give me a list.”

“I was going to ask you. Yes, I’m short a lot of things, since I only usually do breakfasts.” She gave Kate a list of things to bring.

The children were elated at the late muffin-baking time and pitched in to help. One of the specialities of Beth’s bed-and-breakfast was the wide variety of the two-bite-size muffins. Kate had been supplying them and other baked goods since the business had opened. She was the best cook in the family and it added to her small income.

Now Tommy and Joy set the table and Raymond prepared the dinner vegetables and, between muffin batches, Kate made hash from leftover roast beef. Ian watched them.

“I didn’t know you were so good in the kitchen, Ray,” he said, and Raymond laughed.

“I help a lot I know how to do a lot of things, Dad. I’m not a washout in everything.”

“Oh, I believe it, buddy. You’ve got success genes you haven’t even used yet.”

The dinner was rather fun, with a lot of joking and laughing because the timer kept ringing and Kate would have to jump up and take a batch out of the oven or put one in.

It was almost nine o’clock before the muffins were all baked and the children put to bed. Raymond usually slept at home when Ian wasn’t away. But tonight, because of the snow, he stayed. Raymond often found excuses not to stay in the big house next door. Ian helped with bedtime, and Kate was filled with a warm glow. It’s almost like family, she reflected. This crisis, unpleasant as it had been, had been a kind of breakthrough. I know now, she thought. I know. And she hugged the knowledge secretly to her heart.

Her private joy lasted until Marsha came softly into the kitchen in her lovely peach-colored robe, her dark hair tousled from sleep. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Oh, dear, did our noise wake you?” Kate asked.

“It didn’t matter,” Marsha said, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I think I got hungry after all. What is that heavenly smell?”

“Muffins. I make them for my mother’s bed-and-breakfast. They are so small her guests get a kick out of having several different kinds. Would you like some? I’ve got banana, orange and nut, cinnamon and blueberry tonight.”

“Yes, could I have some? I think the blueberry. No, maybe the cinnamon.” Marsha settled back in the kitchen chair, looking around Kate’s old-fashioned kitchen. “Where’s Ian?”

“He’s probably in the boys’ room with Raymond. They don’t get enough time together, with Ian traveling so much.” As soon as she said it she was sorry. Bite your tongue, Kate. “Here you are,” she added brightly, handing Marsha a small plate of four tiny buttered muffins. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

At that moment Ian came back into the kitchen. “Oh, hi, Marsha. Couldn’t you sleep through our racket?”

“I did sleep a while, and I’m going back to bed as soon as I finish these. They’re delicious. Did you have some?”

“Yes. I’ve had them before. Kate’s a generous cook.”

Marsha said she would stay up until they came back from delivering the muffins.

“Kate, you’re sure you don’t mind Marsha staying over? It’s an imposition, I know,” he asked in the van.

“Not really. In an emergency anything goes, and this snow is an emergency.”

He laughed, but sounded tired. “I still have a pile of dictating at home, but I think I’ll put it off until tomorrow. There’s nothing much doing at the office anyhow—most of the staff couldn’t get there today.” When they came back, he asked, “If it’s okay I’ll just drop you off at the door and not come in.”

She went in the back way to shake off the accumulated snow from her coat on the service porch. The house was silent, so at least the kids were still in bed.

When she went through the dining room, Marsha was standing at the dining-room table, leafing through all the homeschooling material. She looked up, her violet eyes filled with alarm, anger, resentment. “What in the world is all this?” she demanded. “What are you two planning to do?”

Chapter Four

Oh, no, Marsha. Why can’t you just go away?

Kate was so tired when she came in that she wanted nothing so much as to crawl into her bed, which she couldn’t do because Marsha would be sleeping in it.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she heard herself saying calmly, going over to the dining-room table. “Raymond is going to be privately tutored for a while. Ian is taking him out of the school he’s in.”

“For how long? When is Ian going to face facts that he’s a single parent—and I’m not?”

The words sent a chill through Kate. Should she call Ian? No, he had left exhausted, as well. Marsha was right. Ian was a single parent, away most of the time, and Marsha was married with, as she had said, this perfect little gem of a house in Georgetown. How would that look in court? Before a judge who knew nothing of the background?

Kate started gathering up the homeschooling material.

“Look, Kate, let’s level with each other. You and Ian think you’re going to educate Raymond—my son—here at your dining-room table with…this? Well, maybe that’s all right with Ian, but it’s not all right with me. Or with my father, once he learns of it. I mean no offense, Kate, you personally are a lovely woman, and you mean well, but I can’t just ignore this. I’m going to have to follow through on it. You must understand that. Raymond is my only son, and when it’s time for college I want to see him accepted at a prestigious university, but he won’t be if he’s schooled at home.”

“That’s not necessarily true. Raymond is a very intelligent boy,” Kate said steadily. “He is also a very sensitive boy. Ian talked this over with the pediatrician, Dr. Madison, and Dr. Madison was in favor of it. And I’m quite sure Raymond will be ready for a good university when the time comes.”

Marsha stood frowning, watching with troubled eyes as Kate put everything back into Pastor Ledbetter’s old briefcase and stowed it in the bottom cupboard of the sideboard.

“I don’t like it,” Marsha said uncertainly. “I’ll have to discuss it with Chet. And with Daddy, of course. You do understand that, don’t you, Kate?”

“Discuss it with anyone you want to,” Kate said. “You certainly have that right.” She’d have to remember to tell Ian tomorrow, so that he could talk to Colonel Greer about it before Marsha got to him.

After Marsha had wandered back into Kate’s bedroom and gone to bed again, Kate sat down in the big fireplace chair. She really should make down the couch and go to bed. She looked at her watch. Was it only ten forty-five? Jill would still be up. She and her husband, Greg, always had an unwinding interval after their three kids were down for the night. Kate, you’re going off the deep end here, she thought. Deep end or not, she got up and went to the little phone table with its spindly little side chair. When Jill answered, she got right to the point. They knew each other so well that sometimes words were not necessary.

Kate, two years older than Jill, had abdicated her bigsister role early in their relationship. Jill was brighter, more assertive and seemed to have been born “in charge.” It had taken Mom a while to stop saying, “Look after Jill, Kate” when they went out to play. Eventually Mom had “got it” that her baby was the leader and her older child seemed content to follow. Dad had always known, of course.

It was the same now and, Kate thought, a rather comfortable arrangement. She could always depend on Jill, and it had long ago ceased to bother her that Jill was the beautiful sister, with Mother’s dark hair and eyes. Jill, who had a large share of the family guts, had made the hard decision to put her career as a successful restaurant owner on hold until their three children were raised.

“Jill,” Kate said, “I’ve been thinking today how awful I look. I don’t even want a mirror in the house anymore. I didn’t used to look this awful. Claude thought I was pretty. I was kind of pretty, at least in my wedding picture I was. But, you know, I don’t really keep myself up the way you do. It just doesn’t seem to be in my nature. You would die before you wore your hair in a skinned-back ponytail fastened with a rubber band, wouldn’t you?”

“Ah…yes, I would. Kate, what are you building up to? It’s almost eleven o’clock and you are fretting about your ponytail? There’s got to be a reason.”

“Yes, there is. I want to look better. I mean all the time. And, uh, a couple of times you’ve mentioned that you wished I’d let you give me a makeover.”

“A makeover,” Jill said thoughtfully. “Kate, does this have something to do with Ian McAllister?”

Trust Jill to read between the lines.

“Yes. But I don’t feel like talking about it right now.”

“Right. Well, let me think a minute. We can’t do much until the snow goes. And the weatherman just said we’re stuck for at least three more days. But I think this is wonderful news. You don’t have to look like a little peeled onion. I agree, your hair isn’t the greatest color, but we can fix that…”

Kate started to object, but Jill cut her short. “No, not dyeing it. Just a few little highlights here and there. And Mom and I would love to see you in a short cut. But you know, a makeover isn’t just from the neck up.”

“Well, I’m not overweight anymore. I know I was getting a little chubby, which I can’t afford to at my height, and I got that exercise video. Tommy and I do that every morning, and it’s trimmed me down several pounds.”

“I don’t mean your body. Your body is okay for someone only five feet tall. I mean your wardrobe. Kate, if you are thinking about what I think you are thinking about, you’re going to have to get rid of those faded denim skirts and tacky cotton blouses.”

“I…I don’t want to spend too much money,” Kate said cautiously. Pinching pennies had become a life work since Claude’s death, when her income had become so limited. On the other hand, she had more money now. Ian was paying her too generously for Raymond’s care and Mom always insisted on paying top dollar for the homemade baked goods for the B and B.

“Kate? Are you there? Or did you go into shock about the wardrobe makeover? Thrift shops are out, Kate. Out. Are you hearing me?”

“Loud and clear,” Kate said, suddenly laughing. Imagine that. Not shopping in thrift shops anymore. She really was going off the deep end, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. She looked down and saw the faded denim skirt and faded tacky cotton blouse, and remembered that Jill always changed her clothes in the middle of the afternoon, after her housekeeping was finished, so that she always looked lovely when Greg came home. Suddenly anything was possible.

As soon as the rains come back,” Jill was saying, “we’ll get together.” Then, miraculously, Kate didn’t feel tired any more and she and Jill settled down to a good gossip. She gave Jill an update on Raymond’s condition. She told Jill about Marsha’s arrival and the homeschooling decision. She told Jill about Mom’s three-meals-a-day guests, until somehow it was almost midnight before they rang off.

The next morning about ten o’clock Kate saw Ian’s sport van drive into the McAllister driveway and Ian, in jeans, boots and heavy windbreaker, walk through knee-high snow to her back door. She was at the back door to open it for him. He took off the knit cap he was wearing.

“I saw everybody out in front,” he said, smiling. “They all seem to be having a great time.”

“Yes, they are,” Kate said, taking the cap. “Come on in. I was about to have a coffee break. Would you like some?”

All three children and Marsha, dressed in one of Claude’s old ski outfits, were out in front rebuilding the snowman, who had suffered some damage during the night’s storm. Marsha had said nothing more about the homeschooling or about Raymond’s custody. She had been up early, had eaten breakfast with them, and seized the opportunity to join in the snow fun out front. Kate had observed her from the front window and knew that she was actually having as much fun as the children were. And they, like children everywhere, accepted a new playmate without question.

Kate did tell Ian that Marsha knew about the homeschooling idea. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have cleared the stuff off the dining-room table.”

“No problem,” Ian said easily, sitting down at the kitchen table. “It’s a done deal, anyhow. I called your Pastor Ledbetter early this morning. He’s a great old guy, isn’t he? He volunteered to go with me over to Raymond’s school to see the principal And we did. I think the principal didn’t want to refuse a sudden request from a man of the cloth, and I think Ledbetter knew it, because he offered to make the call and ask for an appointment. Anyhow, we went over.”

“And what happened?” Kate asked, pouring them each a cup of coffee. “Would you like some muffins with that?”

“Yes. Thanks. Orange and nut if you have any of those left. What happened was the principal already knew about the gang activity. The school bus driver had already not only reported it to him, she identified the kids involved. So that part’s taken care of. Raymond doesn’t even have to go down and appear or anything. He’s a nice guy, the principal. Name of Donald Chan. Ledbetter and Chan got along great. Both are educators at heart. Did you know that Ledbetter started out as a teacher? Ledbetter’s dream is that some day he can add a school to his church.”

“But what did he say about Raymond?” Kate asked as she put some muffins in the microwave.

“He disagrees with homeschooling on principle, but he did agree that until this gang threat is resolved Raymond is better off out of that school. He talked with three of Raymond’s teachers on the phone and they all told him that Ray is smart enough to probably get by with homeschooling until June and pass on into eighth grade on the basis of exams. Then he wants to talk to me about it again. Ray’s English teacher says Ray owes an English paper, but beyond that he’s up-to-date with everything.”

“Well, I can take care of that,” Kate said decisively. “He didn’t tell me he owed an English paper.”

“Chan says he’d like a note from Dr. Madison about the extent of Ray’s injuries, just for the record. So I’ll get that for him. There was only one little hang-up.”

“What was that?’ Kate asked, taking the muffins out of the microwave and putting a small plate of them with a pat of butter in front of Ian.

“First thing he asked was am I a single parent? And I had to say I was. But Ledbetter helped out there. He explained that Raymond had a full-time caretaker in you and he gave you high marks in parenting skills. Marsha is right. The single-parent thing is a handicap.” Ian bit into his muffin.

Kate remembered suddenly, and very vividly, the opening lines of one of the Jane Austen novels she and Jill had loved. If ever a man was in want of a wife, Ian was. Oh, Jill, think makeover.

“So, anyhow, Chan is not going to make a fuss about the homeschooling in Raymond’s case. Until he can quash that gang nonsense, he thinks it might be a good solution. Besides, it’s perfectly legal in this state, so there is really nothing he can do about it.”

Kate sat down and took a sip of coffee. The die was cast, then. And she must make it work, for all their sakes.

Marsha stayed three days, until Seattle’s dependable rains came pouring down and washed away the drifts of snow and the city came alive again. Kate observed Marsha’s conduct with Raymond with mingled irritation and sympathetic understanding. Marsha was doing her best to behave in a motherly and attentive manner to Raymond. She gave him enormous amounts of affection. He had only to express a desire for something and Marsha ordered it sent to him. Deliveries of these goodies would begin after the snow melted. Thus Raymond became the owner of a new CD player and numerous records, and he almost got a moped, but Ian objected that he was too young for any motor-driven vehicle. So Raymond settled for two new skateboards, and Kate suspected that as soon as Marsha left, he would give one to Tommy.

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