A Texas-Made Family

Lisa and Jordan knew she’d been estranged from her folks since before they were born. They seemed to accept the lack of grandparents, so Rebecca had never felt a need to explain the practice of shunning.

But even prior to the shunning, Rebecca had always felt stifled in the small community. She had routinely spent hours in a barren chapel kneeling on hard wooden planks. Her parents, the Epps, did shop occasionally in the nearby town. It was on those outings that Rebecca glimpsed how other people lived. People not bound by austere beliefs.

By the time she was in high school, many of her friends had quit school to work on the family farm. Very few attended the secular public school in Salem.

Families in her community were split between Mennonite and a more rigid sect—the Amish branch of the Anabaptist-Mennonites. The Amish eschewed all modern conveniences and traveled by horse and buggy. Rebecca’s family, being just as spiritually focused but slightly less culturally separatist, allowed her to ride the school bus that stopped at the bottom of their hill.

Her first day of high school, she’d shared a seat with Lacy Hoerner, another freshman, who turned out to be a font of information. Rebecca had been like a sponge. Every day her book bag held a sandwich, an apple and a Bible. Lacy’s was more like a portable cosmetic counter, full of lipstick, eye shadow, mascara and nail polish in every color of the rainbow. As well, Lacy was a master at conjuring up all the latest hairstyles. Rebecca liked being her model and, right then, longed to be a beautician one day. That was the most enjoyable period of her life. Then her brother, Mark, two years older and far more aligned with the church’s teachings, tattled to their parents and ruined everything.

Her parents came down on her hard. It was the end of her schooling in town. The end of all future trips there. She had tried to give up wanting to learn, tried to go home and be the dutiful Mennonite daughter. But she wasn’t able to do it. That small taste of the outside world led to a series of decisions that seemed right at the time, but eventually proved to be a big mistake. Even so, she’d relive even the worst years to be able to have her children.

That was why it had felt like a knife in her heart when Lisa announced today that she wished she could go live with her father.

The bus slowed, jerking Rebecca out of her memories. She looked out the window and saw she’d arrived at the stop a block from the Tumbleweed. She thanked the driver as she swung down. Walking the block blew the cobwebs of the past from her mind.

Rebecca was in the kitchen, tying on her apron, when one realization became very clear. No, she couldn’t roll back time, but she could try to keep Lisa from messing up her life. “I’m going to contact Ryan Lane’s dad,” she muttered.

“Uh-oh. Talking to yourself is a bad sign,” Darcy Blackburn said in a cheery voice from right behind Rebecca.

Startled, Rebecca smacked her elbow on the wall. “Jeez, Darcy, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

The lanky blonde shifted two plates of steaming meatloaf. “Honey, a six-foot woman in a size-ten shoe never sneaks anywhere. Are you okay?” she added. “You’ve been frowning since you walked in.”

“It’s Lisa. She’s been goofing off, skipping study time to hang with a boy. A baseball player of all things.”

“Haven’t we taught that girl anything?” Darcy rolled her eyes. “Well, you don’t complain about your ex so much. But Lisa’s heard me fighting with Kevin over child support more than once. I’m certainly not one to hold back how I feel about living two steps from welfare because I stupidly left high school to marry Mr. Wrong.”

“True. Hey, you’d better deliver those plates before they go cold. Maybe we can catch a minute later to talk. I could use some advice before I dive into the next dreaded mother-daughter chat.”

“Glad I have four boys. I expect I will go through the terrible teens, but I figure I’ll muddle through. Apparently it’s against the law to lock ’em in a closet until they gain some sense.”

“Darcy!”

“Just kidding,” she called and sped off to her customers.

Sure, Darcy could joke. But just wait until one of her boys did something to break her heart. As Rebecca picked up meals from the cook and delivered them, she thought how vociferously Darcy insisted she’d never get married again. Rebecca hadn’t ruled out the possibility, but she never had time to meet anyone.

Work kept her from focusing on her personal problems for the rest of her shift. The Tumbleweed’s proximity to the River Walk meant they had a steady stream of customers. The two friends never found time to chat. At ten-thirty, Rebecca balanced the till, then helped Darcy set up tables for the breakfast crowd.

“I’d offer you a lift home,” Darcy said, “but my mom has the boys. I only use her in emergencies, and they’re too rambunctious for her to handle over a long evening.”

“What happened to your new sitter? Lisa said she seemed great.”

“Yeah, well, turned out she was pregnant. Her folks pressured her to go back to the jerk for the sake of the baby.” Darcy made a sour face. “Been there, done that. I told her all that got me was the twins. I predict she’ll learn that it takes more than a baby to save a bad marriage. Why is it so difficult to find a reliable sitter? Constant turnover is hard on my boys.”

“Why not ask Lisa to fill in? That could solve my problem temporarily. If you make it clear she’s not to have friends over, maybe it would discourage this boyfriend thing.”

“You think this kid will dump Lisa if she stops mooning over him at his baseball games? Wouldn’t surprise me. Men want all the attention focused on them.”

“Well, Lisa needs college money. And she loves sitting for your boys.”

“I’ll phone her when I get home. Do you think she’ll still be awake? And what about her shifts here?”

“I’m sure Max will work around your schedule. Lisa plans to be an elementary school teacher. She loves doing creative stuff with your boys.”

“So do I. Unfortunately I’m usually too tired. Everything falls on me since Kevin sailed off into the sunset with his most recent bimbo. Honestly, how can I expect the boys to grow up when their dad hasn’t? You haven’t heard the latest. She’s barely out of her teens, but she has boobs out to here.” Darcy cupped her hands away from her chest. She was still built like the runner she’d been when she first married Kevin. “Come let me out. It upsets me to talk about Kevin. He’ll never change.”

Rebecca lingered at the door. “It’s not fair that you have to work two jobs to provide for his boys, and he gets to squander his money on a yacht to impress other women. Have you talked to your lawyer about upping his support?”

“She tells me boats are intangible assets.” Darcy grimaced.

“You mean if I sell my house and buy a boat my kids will qualify for college grants?”

“Raising kids on a boat isn’t practical. And you do everything possible to give your kids a nice, normal life.”

And that, Rebecca decided after Darcy left, was the bottom line—even if Lisa suddenly didn’t agree.

Which she didn’t. When Rebecca wearily dragged herself in on the dot of midnight, Lisa was still angry.

“It’s late and we’re both tired, kiddo. All I’m going to say is that I consider it important that we eat together as a family. You let us down today, not to mention blowing off family time to attend an athletic event I knew nothing about.”

“I didn’t tell you,” Lisa said, slamming her pencil down on the kitchen table, “because I wanted to avoid this argument. It’s not Ryan’s fault you and Daddy had a horrid marriage. You are just so biased against men.”

“I am not. Why would you say that?”

“I wonder.” Lisa pursed her lips. “Do you think Jordan and I don’t hear you and Darcy bashing men? Well, mostly Darcy, but you don’t stop her. By the way, she phoned asking me to babysit. I’m sure you had her say I can’t invite Ryan to her house.”

Rebecca’s casual shrug was the same as an admission. “You turned her down?”

“No, but I have a question. How will her boys or Jordan learn to be good husbands and fathers if all they hear is you and Darcy griping about the men you married?”

“I beg your pardon? When have I ever griped about your father?”

“If he’s not a sleaze, why can’t we see him? I’ll bet he left because you nagged. Or maybe because you cheated on him.”

“I don’t owe you any explanation, young lady. And as for me being unfaithful…that’s not even close. Anyway, this isn’t about me, Lisa. It’s about you. I work two jobs so you can have a stable life. You need to do your part by not letting your grades slip.”

“Everything always comes back to you and your jobs.”

“Yes, it does. I make no secret of the fact that my lack of education was a drawback. That’s why I nag you. A woman, especially, needs college so she can support a family should her marriage fail. You’ve seen how many marriages fall apart.”

“But all my friends at school have boyfriends, and they’re still planning to go to college. Ryan Lane is the nicest boy I’ve ever met. You can’t stop me from seeing him. If I can’t bring him home, Mother, I’ll meet him someplace else.” Grabbing her books, Lisa stalked from the room.

Rebecca sagged. So much for thinking she could reason with her daughter. Come hell or high water, she needed to contact Ryan Lane’s father.

Chapter Two

DURING A BREAK between morning clients at the salon the following week, Rebecca called Lisa’s school counselor. Mrs. Feldman agreed with Rebecca that Lisa’s infatuation with Ryan Lane was probably the main reason behind Lisa’s slipping grades. As they chatted, Rebecca found out a bit more about the Lane family. Grant Lane had recently retired from the air force as a colonel and moved to San Antonio with his two children, Ryan and a young daughter, Brandy.

After the conversation with the counselor, Rebecca got the Lanes’ number from directory assistance. Determined to solve this issue parent-to-parent, Rebecca dialed before she could get cold feet.

GRANT LANE, who’d just transferred a load of his daughter’s clothes from the washer to the dryer, walked into his kitchen to pour his first cup of morning coffee. The phone rang. He grabbed it, worried that something had happened to Ryan or Brandy.

“Hello.”

“Mr. Lane, my name is Rebecca Geroux. I don’t know if you’re aware, but your son, Ryan, and my daughter, Lisa, seem to be dating. Until recently, my daughter was a straight-A student. Now her grades are slipping, and I believe it’s because she’s infatuated with your son.”

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“I’m Lisa Geroux’s mother, Rebecca. I’m calling from work, so unfortunately I can’t talk long. The thing is, Mr. Lane, Lisa needs to keep her grades up in order to qualify for college scholarships. Frankly, Ryan is a huge distraction. I’m appealing to you, hoping you’ll influence him.”

Grant took a slug of the hot coffee to jump-start his brain and let him piece together the choppy facts the woman threw at him. It was news to him that Ryan had a girlfriend. They weren’t exactly on the greatest terms. Anyhow, Ryan was almost eighteen. Grant would worry if he didn’t have girlfriends. “Well, Mrs. Geroux, I’m happy to hear Ryan has made friends, being new in San Antonio and all.”

“This is getting out of hand. Lisa’s never cared for sports, and now she’s throwing away valuable study time watching your son play baseball. It’s also come to my attention that after the game, when Lisa’s supposed to be babysitting for one of my co-workers, Ryan takes her—well, all of them—to a fast-food restaurant where they waste several hours she could use for studying. Are you saying this isn’t affecting Ryan’s schoolwork?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Ryan’s always been a good student.” Grant wasn’t about to tell this woman, a perfect stranger, that his son didn’t confide in him and he had no idea what Ryan’s grades were like. Their rapport had never been great, and it’d gotten worse since Grant’s retirement—when he’d really become a full-time dad.

But maybe he could find out more from Mrs. Geroux. He cleared his throat. “I can see you’re better informed about all of this than I am. Tell you what, I’d be willing to meet with you and your husband to explore this further. Of course, it’ll have to be when Ryan’s not around. Or his sister. I have a younger daughter, and it’s just me. I mean, I’m a single parent.”

“So am I. Meeting you could be difficult, which is why I phoned. I work two jobs, Mr. Lane, so I don’t have much free time.”

“Please…call me Grant. I really do think we need to discuss this in more depth. I’m not convinced I want to interfere in my son’s school friendships.”

“Shoot, my next client just arrived. I need to hang up and go back to work, uh…Grant. I have to say I’m disappointed. I assumed you’d work with me once I explained the situation.”

Grant fiddled with his coffee cup. Mrs. Geroux’s displeasure was telegraphed clearly, and he felt bad for her. “Is it possible for you to get away from work for an hour or so tomorrow? I’ll give you my address. If you can drop by here, you can follow me to our neighborhood café. We can talk over coffee or breakfast if you’d like to meet before work.”

“Tomorrow might be okay. What time? I’ll need to move or cancel clients, but I’m serious about getting Lisa back on track.”

“How does nine-fifteen sound?”

“I’ll make it work. It’s that important, Mr. Lane.”

“Grant,” he reminded her. Then gave her his address and precise directions. After he hung up, Grant wondered if he’d regret offering to meet Rebecca Geroux. What if she turned out to be a lunatic? But it was the only way he could buy time to figure out a response. How would it have sounded if he’d admitted he didn’t even know Ryan was playing baseball, let alone that he had a girlfriend?

Obviously his relationship with his son needed attention, and it was also plain that the Geroux woman thought he could influence Ryan. For that to happen, he and his son would have to have a civil face-to-face talk. Grant would welcome one, but things had happened over Ryan’s lifetime to erect barriers between them. He wasn’t sure he knew how to break them down.

Grant wondered what Rebecca Geroux would think of a father who was on such a rocky footing with his eldest child. He reflected on the cause for his problems with Ryan. He could probably go all the way back to before Teresa died, when his obsession with flying and his career took precedence over his marriage. He’d failed to see how his wife’s troubled history affected their firstborn. For so long it had seemed easier to stay away and avoid the unhappiness—his and Teresa’s. All that time Teresa had raised Ryan alone, and he’d let her, because it was easier to be off building his career.

He supposed he was still looking for the easy way out.

WHEN REBECCA got home after work, she toyed with the idea of calling Mr. Lane back and canceling. After all, they should be able to come to an agreement over the phone. She formulated what she’d say to him as she stopped to collect the mail. Absently, she tore open and inspected the bank statement from the joint college savings account she held with Lisa. Rebecca noted her deposits listed for each week of the month. Lisa, though, hadn’t contributed a thing. Not one cent in nearly five weeks.

The paper fluttered in Rebecca’s hand as she tried to absorb the information. She sat for a moment before stuffing the statement back in its envelope. Then she took a deep breath in an effort to calm her temper. Why no deposits, when Lisa had started babysitting for Darcy and was earning more than in previous months?

Rebecca called the kids and started fixing supper. Once they were all seated at the table, she let them fill their plates before she pulled the statement out of her pocket. Rebecca laid it in front of Lisa, who blanched.

“Mom, I have a year and a half before I need to pay college tuition.”

“True, but each year the costs go up. What disturbs me, Lisa, is that we had a deal. Why didn’t you follow through?”

“I had school expenses,” Lisa mumbled. “Stuff my friends can get without a hassle. I haven’t asked you for money. Why do I have to explain what I’m buying?”

“What things do you need, Lisa? This is the first I’ve heard of any of this. I don’t want you kids to go without. I want you to fit in.”

Lisa got up, leaving her supper untouched on the table. “I’m so sick of money being such an issue. Our garbage disposal is still broken, Mother. Ryan would’ve fixed it at no charge.” Without waiting for a response, she stormed off toward her bedroom.

Ryan again. Rebecca swirled her peas and carrots through her steamed rice. She’d lost her appetite, too.

Jordan ate everything on his plate, but kept his head down until he reached for seconds and then noticed his mom’s listlessness. “Lisa bought an athletic booster card for baseball season so she could get a discount on the game tickets. And the girls I see her hang with have loads more cash to throw around.”

“Who are these girls? Do I know them or are they new friends she’s met with Ryan?”

Jordan shrugged. He finished his meal, then he, too, disappeared. By the time Rebecca tidied up and left for her job at the Tumbleweed, both kids were in their rooms, and she was once again convinced that she had to meet Grant Lane.

THE NEXT MORNING Rebecca gave herself two hours to meet Ryan’s father and enlist his help in breaking up their kids. She hadn’t handled yesterday’s conversation very well. He’d sounded as if he favored Ryan and Lisa being a couple. It was up to her to convince him otherwise.

Rebecca tried to anticipate how their discussion might go if he continued to oppose her. Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Grant Lane probably thought his son was a great catch.

And rightly so, she admitted grudgingly. Rebecca couldn’t blame Lisa for thinking that Ryan was hot. His eyes were a clear, arresting blue, framed by lashes most girls would kill for. Add his cool car to all that, and any girl would be impressed.

Again, Rebecca turned her thoughts to the father. What kind of man bought his teenage son a convertible? Grant must have bought it, because Ryan clearly didn’t work. It would help if he did.

Some men had skewed values. Jack, for example. The only reason Rebecca was willing to meet with a strange man was to ensure that Lisa was better equipped to deal with the Jack Geroux types than she’d been. That was why she’d canceled two clients who hadn’t been able to come in later. Rebecca could see money flying out the window, and she’d have to juggle her bills again. Did single dads have as much difficulty making ends meet?

For the first time Rebecca wondered what had happened to Ryan’s mother. Most likely she’d died, since the kids lived with their dad. Rebecca caught herself momentarily feeling sorry for the children. For Grant Lane, too. Single parenting was hard, regardless of the circumstances.

Lost in her thoughts, Rebecca almost missed the entry to the Lanes’ housing development. Reading off street names, she found the one she was looking for, and made a right turn onto a tree-lined avenue. The homes were spacious, and their landscaping immaculate. Rebecca’s house would fit twice into any one of these Spanish-style mansions. But somehow, after seeing Ryan Lane’s convertible, the affluent neighborhood didn’t surprise her. No doubt the boy had been born into money, and had a future loaded with potential.

She hoped Lisa wasn’t dazzled by all the material things beyond her reach. Frowning, Rebecca braked in front of a driveway that led up to a sprawling house. Multiple arches, red-tile roof, a pristine lawn. The number matched the address Grant Lane had given her.

She wished she’d suggested they just meet at the café he’d mentioned. Her hands felt damp and slippery on the steering wheel. Wouldn’t it be awkward going up to knock on a strange man’s door—especially here, where she was so out of her element? Grant had a nice, melodic voice, she reminded herself. Rebecca hoped he had a personality to match it.

Even as she debated turning around, the decision was taken out of her hands.

The front door opened and every thought sailed right out of her head. The elder Lane came halfway down his brick walkway to pick up his paper. To say he was good-looking was too tame.

Rebecca’s heart thudded. As she tried to settle it, he came up to her car and gestured for her to roll down her window.

“Are you Rebecca Geroux, or just lost in the neighborhood?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and Rebecca managed to say, “I’m Rebecca.”

“Good. Let me throw my paper in the house. My car’s in the garage. I’ll back out and you can follow me.”

Rebecca had noticed the dark blue SUV in the driveway when she drove up. Now she wondered if that was also his, or if Grant Lane was seeing someone. Although if he was, it didn’t matter to her.

Watching him jog back to the house, Rebecca admitted she’d been expecting someone older. He couldn’t have more than a few years on her. Surely a man his age must still work.

She waited, and finally the garage door lifted. Rebecca wrenched on the ignition, giving silent thanks when the Nissan purred to life. She’d just released the parking brake when a red sports car shot out past the SUV. Grant punched a remote control hanging on his sun visor and the door lowered.

Rebecca admired the Porsche Boxter convertible as it sped off down the road. She gave herself a shake. Here she sat drooling like an idiot, and he’d turned the corner at the end of the block. She barely managed to get under way and keep him in sight. He navigated the suburban streets with confidence.

Rebecca thought she’d lost him after he pulled into an area of strip malls. She caught him at a light and saw that he was signaling a turn into a parking space in front of a brightly lit café she would otherwise have missed.

She pulled in farther down the street, but couldn’t help noticing that Grant was already out of his car. Reaching back in, he hung his sunglasses over the visor.

Boy, he was trusting, leaving his top down and his expensive shades in plain sight. She’d installed motion detectors around her house, and attached a Club to her steering wheel every night to discourage car theft. But that was the difference between her neighborhood and Grant Lane’s.

He waited for her beside the café door. As she walked toward Grant, Rebecca cataloged more things about him. His hair was shorter than his son’s and not as dark—more of a honey shade, thick and sun-streaked. But it wasn’t as short as the military types she saw around town. And there were a lot of those, as San Antonio was home to many military families. The slightly mussed style suited him. He wore khaki pants and a navy-blue T-shirt that showed off toned muscles. He looked…darn good. Suntanned. Carefree.

Rebecca glanced at her reflection in the café window to see if she appeared as harried as she felt. Satisfied that she looked okay, she reminded herself that she couldn’t stay long. Her first client was booked for eleven-thirty.

Smiling again, Grant opened the restaurant door wider, allowing Rebecca to pass. It was a nice touch and she gave him points for being a gentleman.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“I usually sit in a booth by the window, but why don’t we get a table at the back where we can talk more freely?” He gestured for her to go first. Rebecca felt conspicuous in her work clothes and comfy shoes, but she refused to slouch.

The waitress arrived seconds after they sat down. “I thought you’d skipped breakfast today,” she said to Grant. “Do you want the usual? And what about the lady?”

“Just coffee for me. Black, one sugar,” Rebecca said.

“Make it the same for me.” Grant turned over both cups that already sat on the table.

Pasting on a smile, Rebecca gripped the handle of her cup. “I’ll pay for my coffee,” she said.