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The Dad Next Door
Virginia Myers


JUST PLAIN KATE…Sometimes, secretly, Kate wished she were pretty. Pretty enough to attract the attention of handsome Ian McAllister, the dashing single dad next door. But Kate tried to be content, raising her children solo and filling in as part-time mom to Ian's lonely little boy.So it was a bolt from the blue–a dream come true–when Ian proposed, promising Kate anything if she'd be his wife. Her heart soared down the aisle–only to plummet with afterthoughts. Did Ian really want her? Or merely a family for his son? Was she headed for heartbreak…or heaven in Ian's embrace?









Table of Contents


Cover Page (#udec69d7d-691a-5044-80c7-5ac7f192b525)

Excerpt (#u50e0b7ee-0413-5b91-b202-520cf1660aa6)

About the Author (#u309c28ce-3fde-56c6-badc-23931bfb1492)

Title Page (#u8fd89611-933c-52f1-86c0-c136b667b3d9)

Epigraph (#u19f26833-d566-54ab-af1e-b7bf7cb7cefb)

Dedication (#u53c0ff3e-9e64-522a-9a5e-279d1236661d)

Chapter One (#u27c1ece3-bd80-537e-a602-9e793876e331)

Chapter Two (#u1d22f855-7b4a-54c9-9902-a5fae7a9d213)

Chapter Three (#uddb56461-a04e-5fde-9a06-b9183b5dece7)

Chapter Four (#ue878e2c3-3398-5add-a654-2594001a5763)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




Years ago she’d settled down to single motherhood, sure she’d never be attracted to another man.


Until now.



For the first time Kate admitted to herself that she could love again. And—oh, dear God, help me—this was the man. She wanted to touch Ian, heal all his hurts.

He looked up at her, his beautiful hazel eyes troubled. “You’re a good friend, Kate.”



A good friend. She made herself say it. “Well, friends help friends, Ian. And you know how fond I am of young Raymond.”

“You’ve been a godsend to my boy. I could never repay you for what you do for him.”



“I understand,” Kate said gravely. But, her heart whispered, I don’t want you to pay me. I want you to love me. Love me to distraction. The way I love you…




VIRGINIA MYERS


Virginia Myers has been writing since childhood. As an adult she has published ten novels, contemporary and historical, for the general market. She has now written three novels for the inspirational market.



Active in the writing community, Virginia developed a course in popular novel writing, which she has taught in several Washington colleges. She has lectured, taught writing workshops and served for two years on the board of trustees of the Pacific Northwest Writers Conference.



She lives in Longview, Washington, where she is active in her community and a faithful worker in her church.




The Dad Next Door

Virginia Myers







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be

called the children of God.

—Matthew 5:9


In memory of my aunt, Lillian Harrison Hardesty,

a woman of peace




Chapter One (#ulink_628fe621-f63c-5ffd-bee6-fe15c25fbaa3)


Kate Graham glanced out the window at the weather. Seattle was having a fierce February for the second year in a row. She draped a scarf over her light brown hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail secured by a rubber band. As she tied the scarf beneath her chin, she wished—again—that she was pretty. She could be a lot better looking if she worked at it, the way she had when Claude was alive. But now…

Half a dozen of her sister Jill’s well-meant comments on the subject flew through her mind. Of course, Jill was beautiful. She snatched up her umbrella, picked up the windbreaker jacket she had found in Raymond’s closet and rushed out the door to meet the middle-school bus. She had wasted too much time looking out the window at Ian’s house next door, and planning what she would have for dinner. Ian always came over for dinner when he got home from a business trip.

It was ridiculous. Her daydreaming about Ian McAllister. She was a respectable widow with two children of her own. Maybe she should talk about it to Pastor Ledbetter. He had so much good sense and was always so willing to help. He had been a tower of strength for her when Claude had died. She had needed all the help she could get then. Dad, Mom and her younger sister, Jill. Then Jill’s husband, Greg Rhys, a CPA, had sorted out all the insurance so that she had the steady small income that paid her little family’s bills, if she was very careful.

She wondered again if she had taken on Ian McAllister’s son, Raymond, to bolster the family budget or because she was sorry for the lonely child of a broken marriage. Or was part of the reason that it kept her in regular contact with Ian? She had certainly never regretted the arrangement. Raymond was such a changeling of a child, bright, sensitive, responsive, with Ian’s blond good looks and hazel eyes, and so in need of love. He was twelve, but a very young twelve. She had always felt a wave of protectiveness toward him, from the first time he’d appeared in her kitchen.

She stopped halfway up the block, in front of the second-from-the-end brick house, as Raymond had instructed. He was afraid of some of the bigger boys at school, who often harassed him when they got off the bus at their corner, but he was, after all, twelve and it was unthinkable that he should be met at the bus.

“I’m in middle school!” he had said, his voice rising in panic. “Nobody’s mom meets the middle-school bus!” Her heart had ached. He had started calling her Mom the way her own children did. He was such a waif, with no real mother and his father away on business half the time. He was trying so hard to grow up and also trying to hold on to the childhood he had never really had during his parents’ turbulent marriage.

They had settled on her standing half a block down, so if the bigger boys started hassling him, she could start walking toward the corner. At the sight of an adult, even a short one, approaching, the tough kids would skulk off and leave him alone.

She stopped at the designated place. The bus was late today. She needn’t have hurried. The rain was light and intermittent, but the wind swept it this way and that up under the umbrella. Kate shivered. Raymond had worn only a sweater this morning, so he would probably be cold.

The great yellow lumbering vehicle appeared down at the far end of the street. Hurry. This was a hot-chocolate day for sure. Her own two children, Tommy, eight, and Joy, six, were already home and were alone in the house. She had left firm instructions not to turn on the burner under the pan of milk until she and Raymond got there. They were pretty good kids, and she was reasonably sure they would wait.

The bus stopped at the corner, its air brakes letting out a whooshing sound. The kids, in their hideous collections of many-layered clothing, began to get off the bus. Something was different today—they didn’t loiter at the stop. Some of the bigger boys got off and fairly ran from the area. She waited for Raymond to get off, straining to see. The driver was an older woman who took a real interest in her charges. Kate watched now as the driver got out of her seat and went toward the back of the bus. The bus was still about half-full of kids, who seemed unusually subdued.

Something was wrong.

Kate took a chance of embarrassing Raymond and hurried the half block to the bus. Surely Raymond hadn’t missed it. No. As she came up to the open bus door, she saw the driver coming back up the aisle, her arm around Raymond’s shoulders.

“See. They all went. And here’s your mom. It’s okay,” the driver was saying.

Kate’s heart was suddenly pounding. “Raymond! What happened!” She could hardly recognize him. His face was swollen and bruised, badly scraped on one side. Blood was smeared over his sweater and T-shirt. He was limping.

“Oh…Raymond.” She held out suddenly shaking hands as he got off the bus. He shrugged away from the driver’s protecting arm, looking sick and miserable.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” the driver said. “I told him he should see the school nurse, but he said he didn’t know where she was, and he couldn’t miss the bus. I wanted to go find her myself, but I’m not allowed to leave the bus when there are kids on it.”

“But what happened?” Kate gasped.

“Nuthin’. It’s okay. I wanna go home,” Raymond said.

“It’s those tough kids, ma’am,” the driver said. “They can be so mean. It’s because he’s skinny and he won’t fight back. If he’d just fight back a little, I tell him. It’s awful to tell peaceable kids to fight back, but how else can they cope?” Her kindly eyes filmed over with tears.

“I wanna go home,” Raymond muttered, twisting the strap of his backpack with a thin hand.

“Thank you,” Kate managed to say to the bus driver. “Come on,” she added to Raymond. “We’ll go and see to that swelling.” Both his eyes were almost shut.

“Here,” Kate said. “Put this on.” She draped the windbreaker around his shoulders. What will Ian say? A wave of belated fury rushed through her. “Who did this to you?” The bus roared away and a shudder went through the boy. He looked after the bus with sheer hatred showing through his slitted eyes.

“I’m not going back!” he said through his teeth.

“Who did this to you? Tell me what happened!”

“Okay, but at home. Let’s go home.” He was watching the bus disappear out of sight around the corner.

“All right.” She put her arm around him, trying to shelter him with the umbrella from the dashing rain, but he pulled away and started a half run back toward the house. He was limping. She hurried to follow him and they reached the door together, which Tommy held open. The wind and rain blew Tommy’s light brown hair. He was her own small image, whereas Joy had inherited Claude’s dark hair and bright blue eyes.

“What took you so long?” Tommy demanded. “We waited and waited…” He fell silent when he saw Raymond’s face.

“Keep quiet!” Raymond commanded. “Do you want the whole neighborhood to hear?” He darted into the house and Kate followed, pausing only to partly close her umbrella and shake out excess water onto the porch. Inside, she dropped it into the umbrella stand.

“Settle down, you two. Raymond will tell us about it when he’s ready to. Go in the kitchen and wait. We’ll make the cocoa after I see to Raymond. Raymond, you come with me into the bathroom. I’ve got to look at that scrape.”

“I’m okay,” Raymond muttered, but followed her into the bathroom, as did the other two children, ignoring her command to wait in the kitchen.

“No, you’re not okay. Now, I’ve got to get you fixed up. I mean it.” The “I mean it” was the no-nonsense code phrase that usually got results.

Raymond submitted, somewhat sullenly, while the other children watched. The bathroom was crowded, but Kate managed to wash the caked blood from Raymond’s face and observe the extent of the damage. She did the best she could with water and disinfectant. In a few hours, when the bruising surfaced, he was going to be a sight. She wished that Ian wasn’t coming back to Seattle tonight. When she had done the best she could, they went into the kitchen.

“Raymond, I need to know what happened. Your dad is coming in tonight. What am I going to tell him?” She kept her voice steady with an effort because she wanted very badly to cry. He looked so pathetic, trying to pretend it didn’t matter. Since before Claude’s death, when her life had collapsed, and through her long journey with her grief to this present point of acceptance, if not content, she had become very good at not crying in front of the children.

Tommy and Joy were unusually silent as they stared at Raymond’s battered face. Raymond, twelve, and in middle school, was their hero. They were both deeply shocked.

“Okay,” Raymond said through swollen lips. “So I got beat up. It’s no big deal.”

Kate turned from the stove. “It is a big deal, Raymond. It should never have happened. Tell me how it did.”

“Well,” he said reluctantly, “there’s this bunch of big kids, see. They’re really big guys.” He paused, seeming tired, and pushed one grubby hand through his fair hair. “Well, what happened is they want to get in this gang. In that school, if you’re a guy and you’re not in a gang, you’re nobody. So there’s this test, this initiation.”

“Initiation? What kind of initiation?” Kate felt a sudden chill. These were children they were talking about. Kids, just about to enter their teens, like Raymond.

The boy sighed. “Is the milk hot yet? I’ll never get warm again.”

“Raymond, what initiation?”

“Well, it was three guys.” It seemed the boy was pushing the words out, one at a time. “These three guys can get in this gang if they can prove they’re tough. Really tough. If they can deliver. If they can follow orders. So they had to beat up somebody. Really bad. To prove it, you know.”

“Three of them had to beat you up to prove they were tough!” Kate sat down suddenly in a chair. She was physically sick. They could have killed him.

“Now, what’s going to happen is this,” Raymond added. “I’m not—repeat not—goin’ back to that school! Ever!”

Tommy broke the silence that followed. “Ray, when I get to middle school I’ll help you.”

“But Tommy, I’m not going back. Ever.”

Joy spoke softly. “Mommy, the milk is moving.” And Kate returned her gaze to the milk pan, watching the surface of the milk in its preboiling state. Raymond cannot go back to that school, she thought Nor did she want Tommy and Joy continuing in public school after the primary grades. Something was very wrong. She’d have to face it. This was not the way her children were going to grow up. They must not be cheated out of their childhood.

Kate lunged forward to pull the pan of suddenly-boiling milk from the burner, and poured the hot milk into the big metal pitcher over the sweetened chocolate.

“Well, you certainly don’t need to go back to school tomorrow anyway,” she said to Raymond. “We’ll talk to your dad about it tonight.” Kate poured chocolate into a mug and handed it to him. “Don’t drink that yet It’s too hot.” She poured two more mugfuls for her children.

“I wish he wasn’t coming back tonight. I’d like to heal up a little first,” Raymond muttered.

“Oh, Raymond, I’m so sorry.” She poured another mug for herself. She shouldn’t have. She was getting too rounded again and she had made a resolve not to eat between meals anymore. But she needed this.

“Your father’s going to be upset. He’ll think I’m not taking care of you.”

“Not your fault,” Raymond said quickly. “You can’t help what those goons at school do. Dad will just have to understand it. See, Dad’s always been first string. In everything. All his life he’s total success. So he freaks out when I can’t cope, which mostly I can’t. But he’s gotta face it. I’m an inferior kid. He can take it or leave it.”

“You’re not an inferior kid. You’re a great kid. I wouldn’t want you to be any different than you are. Your father wouldn’t, either!”

“Don’t sweat it, Mom. It’ll be okay.”

Kate wondered again how Ian’s former wife, Marsha, could have simply walked out on this boy. He was struggling so hard for some sort of family. Thank heavens Ian was paying Marsha so much alimony that he couldn’t afford to send Raymond to boarding school. That would have stifled the boy completely.

“Help yourself to seconds,” she told the children, getting up. “I have to make a phone call. But let Raymond pour. It’s hot.”

She sent up a silent prayer that Pastor Ledbetter would be in and available, not counseling parishioners or doing any of the thousand and one things that filled his days. Recollecting his kindly face, his graying hair and nice blue-gray eyes, Kate felt her tension easing.

“Congregational Church. How can I help you?” She silently thanked God that the pastor had answered the phone himself. The church secretary must have stepped out for a minute. Words tumbled from Kate as she poured out her story and resumed the talk that had started when Raymond had first realized he was being targeted.



Kate heard Ian’s car come into the driveway next door just minutes before the dinner hour, and she forced herself not to look out the window.

“He’s coming!” Tommy shouted. “Finally! I’m starving!”

“All right, Tommy. He’s a little late,” Kate admonished. “Don’t make a big thing of it. Where are you going, Raymond?” But Raymond had retreated down the hall toward the bedroom the two boys shared. Kate went after him and Raymond turned.

“You talk to him first, okay? Kind of break it to him that I’m not exactly Mike Tyson in a fight. Then I’ll come in later. When he’s ready to take it.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Kate agreed. The moment she did, Raymond ducked into the bedroom and shut the door. “Call me when it’s time,” he said through the crack.

Joy had opened the front door at Ian’s ring. Both of her children adored Ian, and Kate felt a little breathless herself every time she saw him—tall, a bit over six feet, well-built, with the unusual combination of blond hair and hazel eyes. Kate had met his former wife, who was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. What a stunning couple they must have been.

“Hi, kids. Boy, am I glad to be back.” He glanced around. “Where’s Ray?”

Before Kate could answer, Joy said, “He’s hiding, because he—”

Tommy clasped his hand over her mouth just in time and pulled her over to the big chair by the fireplace and pushed her into it.

Ian glanced a question at Kate.

“Actually, I guess he is, in a way,” Kate said. “I need to speak to you about something, Ian. Raymond had some trouble at school.”

“What kind of trouble?” Ian’s voice was guarded.

“There was a fight at school,” she admitted weakly, feeling guilty.

“Three bigger boys jumped him,” Tommy interjected, unable to resist.

“He’ll be all right,” Kate said quickly. “He’s—”

But Ian was heading for the boy’s room, and she followed helplessly, with the children close behind her. Ian opened the door and went in. When he saw Raymond lying on the bed he froze. Raymond cast Kate a look of dismay.

“It’s okay, Dad. It’s no big deal.”

Kate went sick at the shock on Ian’s face as he sank to his knees beside the bed and reached out to his son.

“Oh…no,” he whispered, his hands hovering over the boy, as if he were afraid to touch him.

“Look, it’s okay, Dad.” Raymond struggled to a sitting position. “I’ll heal up…” But as he said it, his voice broke and tears started from his swollen eyes. He went into his father’s arms, muttering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Kate pushed her kids out the door. “Come on, kids,” she said softly, shutting the door behind them.

“What about dinner?” Tommy wailed. “I’m starving.”

“We’ll wait a while,” Kate said firmly.

But they didn’t need to wait long. It was only a matter of minutes before Ian and Raymond came into the living room. Raymond threw himself into his favorite chair.

“What happened, Kate? All he’ll say is that he got into a fight.” Ian’s voice betrayed a forced calmness. He wanted to explode at what had been done to his son. His eyes showed it.

Kate glanced at Raymond. “You should have told him,” she said. “Well, Ian, I may as well give it to you straight.”

“I’d like that,” Ian said with faint sarcasm, going over to the fireplace.

“There seems to be some gang activity over at the middle school.”

“You must be kidding.” He turned to look at her.

“I only wish I were. As I get the story, three of the boys—bullies, really—were in some form of initiation. They had to ‘beat up’ someone to prove themselves. They chose Raymond. There were three of them, all bigger boys than he is.” In spite of her effort at control, her voice rose in anger.

“That’s sick,” Ian said shortly. He was filled with seething rage. Kate could feel it.

“I know how you feel,” she said.

Tommy interrupted. “He didn’t have a chance, Ian. He was outnumbered. He was ambushed.”

“I’ll go over to that school tomorrow,” Ian began grimly. “I’ll—”

“No!” Raymond sprang out of his chair, wincing as he did so.

Kate despaired. She was handling this badly. Later she would think of dozens of things she should have said. She often had long imaginary conversations in her head with Ian, in which she was clever, witty, intelligent and very composed. And he was always so appreciative and admiring. Now she moved forward and caught Raymond by the arm.

“Listen to your father,” she said, pushing back his fair hair. Raymond calmed down and looked sullenly at Ian.

Ian retreated. “Okay,” he said gently. “What do you want me to do?”

“Well, first, just let it alone,” Raymond muttered.

Joy piped up, climbing back into the big chair by the fireplace and smoothing her skirt down primly. “Raymond is never going to school again. He’s through.”

“Through with school?” Ian asked.

“That’s what he said,” Joy answered.

Kate interposed. “He doesn’t really have to, you know.” She swallowed hard and braced herself.

“Okay, I’m listening. Why doesn’t my twelve-year-old son need to go to school anymore?” Ian asked quietly.

Her mouth was suddenly dry. “I was talking with Pastor Ledbetter earlier. This has been coming on for a while. We were talking about homeschooling and—”

Ian didn’t let her finish. “Maybe we’d better have dinner first. It might calm us down. This looks like a long discussion coming up. And I think I heard Tommy say he was starving.”

“I am,” Tommy said promptly, and both boys headed for the dining room, followed by Joy.

Kate gave up and followed the children, with Ian beside her. He was anything but calm; she could sense it.

Dinner was a disaster. Only the children could eat, and watching Raymond struggle to eat through his swollen lips made her sick with anger. She noted that Ian couldn’t do anything either but push the food around on his plate. Well, her precious roast of beef wouldn’t be wasted. She would use the leftovers for baked hash. The children loved it. When the endless meal was finally over Kate stopped herself from mentioning homework—after all, Raymond wasn’t going back to school anyhow.

“I brought back a couple of videos. If you kids want to go watch them, they’re on the hall table,” Ian said. The children rushed out. And he added to Kate, “Want some help with this? You don’t have a dishwasher.”

“I’m the dishwasher,” Kate murmured. Ian was being kind; he had never offered to help before. It probably meant he was going to reject the homeschooling idea and wanted to let her down easily. But Raymond couldn’t go back to that school. She had seen this coming. She should have acted sooner.

In the kitchen, Ian waited until he was drying the last glass. Then he hung up the dish towel on the rack and turned to her. The sounds of cartoon voices and singing came to them from the boys’ bedroom.

“Let’s stay in here, Kate. They’ll be busy for another hour at least.” He pulled out a kitchen chair for her and she sat down. He took the opposite chair. He was waiting politely for her to begin.

She cleared her throat, trying to remember some of the things she had learned from Pastor Ledbetter. She wished Ian knew him better, but Ian was seldom in Seattle weekends and, although he had attended church with them a few times, it was not a priority with him.

“You were talking with your pastor,” Ian prompted.

“Earlier, about a month ago, this trouble started and I—Raymond and I—worked it out that I’d meet the bus, but this apparently happened at school. I’m worried about Tommy and Joy, too. They’re just in primary grades and, so far, things are going well, but I’m trying to prepare for their future, too. Pastor Ledbetter is a former teacher and he’s been advising me.”

Ian was at least listening, she hoped with an open mind.

“We can’t—just can’t—make Raymond go back there. Once those toughs have targeted him, they’ll show him no mercy. They’re bullies. And I don’t think it will do much good for you to go down. Schools don’t seem to pay much attention to parents anymore.”

“So, tell me about this homeschooling.”

“Pastor Ledbetter said that in a few years’ time over a million families will be homeschooling their children. There is a wealth of material available, for all grade levels, with loads of teaching aids. It started with Americans in Europe homeschooling their children. It’s a growing trend now, especially among Christians, very widespread.” She went on, remembering more and more of what Pastor Ledbetter had told her.

“You’ve thought about this for quite a while, haven’t you?”

“Ever since this trouble started. Today, with Raymond coming home like he did, that was the last straw. I realized that I’d have to do something.”

“Would you do the teaching yourself?” Ian asked, and Kate could hear the doubt in his voice.

“Oh, yes,” she said firmly.

“I didn’t know you had a teaching credential.”

“I haven’t. I don’t need one. The homeschooling materials are so well prepared—I mean, they are designed for use by nonteachers.”

A silence lengthened between them. Finally Ian broke it.

“That’s a wonderful offer, Kate. And you are a very kind and generous person to make it but, I have to ask it, how far did you go in school?”

Kate felt her face getting hot. She knew that Ian had an M.B.A., as well as having had specialized training for his work.

“I…had two years at community college, but Claude and I wanted to get married and…I needed to get a job. I mean, he didn’t have his degree yet and…one of us had to go to work…” Her voice trailed off. Memories surfaced of herself and Claude and all their great plans, the too-early marriage, the unexpected pregnancy with Tommy. Then, later, the planned pregnancy with Joy, after Claude was established in his job. Then—oh, why do these things happen to people—Claude getting sick. Everything had been going so well. It was unbelievable that it should collapse around them. If it hadn’t been for the strong support of her close family she didn’t think she could have made it through.

Kate suddenly got up from the table, trying to shut out the flood of memories of Claude’s long illness, his bravery. Her caring for Claude as his life slipped away into merciful death. Caring for the rowdy little Tommy and the infant, Joy. Pinching pennies, trying to get by on Claude’s disability payments. The nights she had fallen into bed too exhausted to sleep.

“Would you like a cappuccino?” she heard herself asking.

“Yes, thank you, I would. Do you think of Claude often?”

“Sometimes. Not as much as I used to.” She set about making the coffee.

“How long has it been since—”

“Over six years now. Joy doesn’t even remember him at all, of course. She was too little.” Do you think of Marsha? The question remained unasked in her mind. There was no way he could forget Marsha, because Marsha came back into his life now and then on her occasional visits to see Raymond and toy with motherhood.

A silence grew between them as she finished making the cappuccino, and when she had put the pot and small cups onto the table, he said, “That smells good.”

She poured the steaming coffee into the little cups.

“I guess I agree that Raymond can’t go back to that school,” Ian said, his voice sounding tired. “But to be honest, I can’t see this homeschooling idea for him. For one thing, his grandparents would raise the roof.”

“Why? What have they got to do with it?”

“Well, when Marsha wanted out of our marriage, they gave me a lot of advice about Raymond. Justin, Colonel Justin Greer, my ex-father-in-law, who is a nice guy, really, is retired army. And they always—this is my reading of it—they feel embarrassed about Marsha not staying with the marriage.” He was choosing his words carefully, and Kate respected him for it. He was trying not to say anything disparaging about Marsha. He never had, but Raymond wasn’t so careful, so Kate knew a great deal about the rocky marriage.

“You see,” Ian continued, “they feel apologetic about Marsha. They needn’t. It takes two to make a bad bargain, and I’ve tried to take my share of blame with them. You see, Marsha didn’t really have a very good life. She was an army brat, shuffled around abroad when they were stationed abroad, or warehoused in some boarding school when they were stationed some place where they couldn’t take her. But they really are concerned about me, a single parent, raising Raymond. With the travel and all. They wanted—still want—him placed in a good military school. And they do care. They do keep in touch…have input into his life.”

Kate was well aware of that. Raymond got at least a couple of letters a month from his grandmother Greer, and the VCR in the boys’ bedroom was one of his grandparents’ gifts.

“Don’t drink that yet. It’s too hot,” Kate said almost mechanically, and saw Ian trying not to smile. He probably thought she was just everybody’s mommy, and it wasn’t how she wanted him to think of her.

“Will you do me a favor?” she asked with a sigh.

“Sure. If I can. What is it?”

“Can I set up an appointment for us both to visit with Pastor Ledbetter? I’ve already decided it’s something I want to do for my kids a little later, in the upper grades, and I may as well start with Raymond. I’d just like you to hear what he has to say. Just consider it.”

“Okay, if you want me to, Kate, but…” His hazel eyes fell to look at the cup before him with its still-steaming coffee. “But I really don’t like the idea of homeschooling him and…” He paused and she saw color rise into his face. “My disposable income will shortly increase considerably.” His tone was carefully neutral, but there was a grimness about it.

“You got a raise? You got a promotion?” She couldn’t keep the eagerness out of her voice, and was about to congratulate him.

“No,” he said flatly. “Marsha is getting married again. She’s found…Mr. Right.”

“I don’t understand,” Kate said faintly, afraid that she did understand.

“It means I’m off the hook for alimony, Kate. I don’t have to pay it after June. I’ll have enough to send Raymond to a good private school. I guess I’ll have to give in on that point. It’ll please his grandparents, anyhow… Kate? Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay,” Over my dead body. That boy needs family. “Is that absolutely carved in stone? Can’t we just go and see Pastor Ledbetter?”

“If you want me to go, Kate, I’ll go. But let’s be honest. I’ve pretty much made up my mind. I had to, as soon as I saw Raymond’s face tonight. He’ll be much better off in a good boarding school.”




Chapter Two (#ulink_a7d22f4f-df95-56f7-b0ee-a7a9e5d4a32b)


After Ian had gone and the children were in bed, Kate started her evening routine of living-room tidy-up. She was tired but not sleepy, having just successfully completed one of her mental conversations with Ian, during which she said all the things she should have said. Halfway through her task she noticed the time. Eleven o’clock. She might as well get tomorrow’s weather report. She flipped on the TV and sat down, straightening the newspapers she held for the recycle bin, only half listening.

There was another freeway drive-by shooting. A serial arsonist was taken into custody. The city council was deadlocked about something. A Siberian cold front was moving down from Alaska. Kate’s hands became still and she watched the screen. Snow! A real blizzard! Oh, wonderful news. None of the kids would go to school tomorrow. In a heavy snow Seattle came to a dead stop until it was over. The news media would give constant updates twenty-four hours a day, and at some point some news anchor would interview somebody from Minnesota who was having a good laugh at Seattle’s snow hysteria. Seattle was a city of many hills and had never come to terms with the occasional heavy snowfall. Yes, the anchor was now listing the school closings for tomorrow. Kate listened for and heard what she wanted to hear. Raymond would be elated. So would the other two.

But this left uncertain their appointment with Pastor Ledbetter for early tomorrow. Before Ian had left, she had called the pastor at home. He, hearing the concern in Kate’s voice, had agreed to meet them for an earlymorning appointment. Now if the streets were impassable maybe they couldn’t go. But even as she thought it the phone rang. She flipped off the TV. It was Ian.

“I knew you were still up. I saw your lights on,” he began. “Were you looking at the news?”

“Yes. Snow. The kids will be over the moon. I’ll have to dig out the snowsuits and extra sweaters. I thought winter was winding down.”

“Does this do anything to our early appointment with your pastor about the homeschooling thing? Will he be in the church office?”

“Yes. The parsonage is right next door. He’ll just shovel a path through. He did last year.”

“Well, we can keep the appointment, then. I’ll use my sports van. It’ll get us anywhere. Haven’t used it in a while.” There was a hint of wistfulness in his tone. The sports van, purchased just after Marsha had left and he had received the promotion that required traveling, had been another good idea gone wrong. He had bought the sports vehicle planning good-father fishing trips with Raymond to some of the many rivers nearby, but it hadn’t worked out.

Kate knew Ian was on the fast track at his company, being groomed for bigger things. He was employed by a manufacturer of security and surveillance devices, and the latest in laser and other equipment. His travel was usually as a consultant to rural police forces needing to upgrade their equipment for new procedures.

It wouldn’t have worked anyhow, since Raymond was a child who disliked fishing intensely. He had sat politely in the boat—another wasted effort—because he didn’t want to disappoint his father. But he had managed to cut several fingers on fishhooks, become nauseated at the motion of the boat, gagged when he watched Ian remove the fishook from the fish’s mouth, and had spent the rest of the day under a tree on the riverbank reading a book he had brought along. Kate thought again that Ian should have taken Tommy, who was the nature boy, with his rock collection, his leaf collection and his dead-fly collection.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll go as scheduled, then.”

In the morning they awoke to a world of white. The children were elated, and by the time Kate and Ian had left for their seven-thirty appointment, all three of them were out in front, building a snowman. Ian had contributed a rakish, broad-brimmed safari-type hat she had never seen him wear and a red muffler. Kate got the feeling that he would rather stay with the snowman and the kids, but he dutifully drove her to Pastor Ledbetter’s office.

“It’ll be warm in a few minutes,” Pastor Ledbetter said as they settled themselves in the chairs around his small conference table. “I just turned on the heat.”

Everything in the pastor’s office had the look of leftover rummage sale, from his battered, paper-strewn desk to the refinished kitchen table and odd repainted chairs he used for conferences.

“I’ve laid all this stuff out for you,” he said. “There are many curricula and plans to choose from. If you want my recommendations, I’ll give them to you. But I need to start with a few cautions.”

Ian was leafing thoughtfully through some lesson plan material. “This does look very thorough,” he commented.

“It’s prepared for nonteachers,” Kate said hopefully.

“What cautions did you have in mind, sir?” Ian asked.

Cyrus sat down. Kate wondered again how old he was. He certainly never seemed to run out of energy. She knew this was the beginning of another long day for him.

“First and foremost, school authorities oppose homeschooling on principle. They are convinced that only credentialed teachers should teach, which has been proved to be invalid. With all the built-in wasted time in some of the large structured school districts, plus busing of students, often from a long distance, surveys have found that some students are spending less and less actual time in the classrooms. But they routinely object to homeschooling.”

“That seems a bit much,” Ian said. “Do you think this school district would actively object if Kate homeschooled Raymond?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But remember that homeschooling is perfectly legal in this state. Sometimes a district can put up roadblocks, but usually they can’t stop you. You can take precautions.”

“What precautions?” Kate asked, feeling a distinct qualm.

“I would suggest the first thing you do is join the Home School Legal Defense Association. It only costs a hundred dollars, and they are your counsel, your protection, just in case. If necessary they’ll go to court for you, but it doesn’t usually come to that. It sure beats hiring your own lawyer if push does come to shove. You need to first bone up on your rights, so you can’t be bluffed.”

“My rights?” Kate asked faintly. Suddenly the idea of homeschooling Raymond seemed very intimidating.

The pastor leaned over and patted her hand. “Don’t give in to faint heart yet, Kate,” he said, smiling. “Homeschooling is a grand solution in some cases and I think, in the case of your Raymond, it should work. Some public schools are very good. Some aren’t.

“Everything—remember this—everything depends on your child passing the exams. If he or she can pass the exams at the proficiency level for his or her grade, then the goal of teaching has been achieved, regardless of how, or where or from whom.”

Kate felt a bit overwhelmed. She’d be taking on a huge responsibility here. She wasn’t sure she was up to it.

“Do you know anything about actual results?” Ian asked. “How do homeschooled students compare with children from public and private schools?”

“Well, you can’t compare public and private schools—that’s apples and oranges. But statistically, homeschooled children can always outperform public school children.”

“Always?”

“According to everything I’ve seen so far.”

“That’s certainly food for thought,” Ian said. “Raymond is, I regret to say, just a so-so student—”

“Raymond’s been under a lot of stress,” Kate interposed quickly. “He wouldn’t be if…” She faltered. Was she really capable of taking on the teaching? Again, she wondered about it. She felt color rise into her face.

“Look at this new series,” the pastor was saying with enthusiasm, pulling out a brochure and unfolding it. “This looks like an awfully good approach to the teaching of chemistry.”

“Chemistry?” Kate asked faintly.

“Kate, don’t worry about it,” the pastor said. “Your home is full of chemistry experiments. This looks very practical. And remember, it’s designed for home teaching.”

“Let’s have a look,” Ian said, reaching for the brochure. “You know, Kate,” he added, “I could help out when I’m home. I remember I was fascinated by chemistry, got pretty good at it, and I didn’t blow up anything. And they offer this whole kit of stuff. See?” He handed the brochure to her.

Kate looked at it without really seeing it. Was he coming round? Was he accepting this? And could she do it if he agreed?

“And look at this,” the pastor said. “This comes with a complete set of videos. It would be like having your own private lecturer come into your home. All interactive with the students. And do you have a computer? They have a lot of things geared to the home computer.”

“I don’t—I don’t have a computer,” Kate said.

“I could get you a computer,” Ian said. “That’s no problem.”

“Me learning to use it might be a problem,” Kate responded without thinking, and Ian laughed.

“I’ll bet the kids could pick it up quickly,” he said.

The pastor plunged ahead, explaining, illustrating, advising.

“I think I’m sort of convinced,” Ian said after a while. “At least as a stopgap, for the time being. My boy’s grandparents want me to place him in a good military school, but my gut feeling is that my kid is not a military type. He’d hate it, but I do think just a good boarding school might be the solution for him.”

Kate’s heart, which had lifted, sank.

“Why don’t you give it a try?” the pastor asked kindly. “Be guided by his test scores at the end of the school year.”

“That would be the acid test,” Ian agreed.

“That and the fact that Raymond might thrive on it,” Kate heard herself saying somewhat testily. Boarding school, indeed. He had mentioned last night that Marsha had been “warehoused” in boarding schools, yet somehow he saw it as a good solution for Raymond.

The church secretary popped her head in the door.

“Mr. Barnes is here about the room dividers.”

“Oh, dear,” the pastor said. “Well, think about it. Take all these things with you and go over them. Take your time. Here, I think I have some sort of case.” He got up and rummaged in a closet, bringing out a battered old leather briefcase. “Put them in this.”

Kate and Ian helped arrange all the items in the case.

“Call me if you have any questions,” the pastor said optimistically as they left.

Going home, Ian didn’t say much. Driving was difficult. Snow had started coming down heavily again, and the windshield wipers couldn’t handle it. Kate hoped the children had gone inside. Twice they had to detour because the street was barricaded due to an accident, although traffic was very sparse. They encountered three city buses, stalled because they couldn’t make it up the hills. And once Ian had to slam on his brakes because two children on a sled careened down a hill into the middle of the street. They both breathed a sigh of relief when they drove into Ian’s driveway.

“I may not go in to work today,” Ian said as they were making their way through the snow to Kate’s porch. “I can dictate my reports from home. You didn’t have time to get Raymond to the doctor yesterday, did you?”

“No. He seemed all right. Not all right, really, but you know what I mean.” Ian had taken her arm to help her. It was a warm, comforting feeling. She had been so alone, so long. The snow was swirling around them.

“Yes, but I saw him undressed,” Ian said. “I’m glad you asked me to look at his body. He’s one big bruise.” Ian’s voice was briefly unsteady.

“He was still limping this morning,” Kate said as they got near her front porch. “Come in and we can call the pediatrician. See if they can fit Raymond in. Did you have breakfast?”

“No, and I’m starved.”

“The kids probably are, too. They couldn’t wait to get outside this morning. Look at that!” They both stopped to look at the snowman. He was about four feet tall, a series of large snowballs. His round face was topped with Ian’s now somewhat damp and limp felt hat. Kate saw that he also wore her fancy sunglasses that she had bought at a sale and had never yet used.

“Dad, don’t you have an old pipe?” Raymond shouted. “Don’t snowmen always have a pipe?”

“Maybe this guy’s a nonsmoker,” Ian said, smiling at his son’s enthusiasm. “We can get him a pipe later, if you want to.” Raymond’s face looked terrible today. “Kate said something about food. Is anybody besides me hungry?”

This brought on an interval of happy holiday-type confusion, which included Kate coping with wet snowsuits and sweaters, Ian calling the pediatrician and everybody ending up in the kitchen, either helping or getting in the way. With a lot of laughter and noise their new master plan was decided. They would have a large brunch now, a later skimpy snack and a regular dinner with the two mandated veggies.

This is what the good life is like, Kate thought, piling the just-right scrambled eggs onto the platter beside the bacon strips. Ian had washed the large bunch of grapes she had bought for school lunches, breaking them into small individual bunches and piling them onto another plate. Raymond was pouring orange juice into glasses, and Tommy and Joy were working on buttered toast, and a crooked pile of it was now ready.

If only…if only…Kate thought as they all sat down around the table to devour the spread. When the fun-filled meal was finished and the children were on the service porch struggling into their still-damp snowsuits, Kate and Ian lingered at the table. Ian picked up a leftover curl of bacon and put it down again.

“I can’t eat that. I’m stuffed,” he said, smiling a bit wistfully. “Kids…Raymond’s having a ball, isn’t he? He…seems to have forgotten yesterday.”

“Children are so resilient,” Kate said. Ian really had beautiful eyes, especially when he was looking thoughtful.

“You’re sure doing a great job as surrogate mother, Kate. Raymond’s lucky to be with you when I’m away.”

“Did…the pediatrician have any time for him today?”

“Yes, she did. I didn’t want to mention it in front of the kids. Raymond won’t want to go. The nurse said they have nothing but time today. Several people have canceled because of the snow.”

“When is your appointment?”

“Three o’clock.” He glanced at his watch. “Let me help you clear up this mess.”

“No. I can do it,” Kate said. “I suggest you go out and help with what’s-his-name, the snowperson. It might be a good idea to kind of prepare Raymond for the idea of going to the doctor.”

Ian laughed. “I expect a battle. But okay. Thanks for the reprieve.”

As Kate cleaned up the kitchen she could hear shouts and laughter from the front yard. As three o’clock approached there was, as Ian had predicted, a brief battle, which Ian won. He took her children with them, as they had never ridden in the sport van and wanted to. The company also provided a much-needed distraction for Raymond.

“Drive carefully,” she said, waving them off.

A peaceful silence settled over the little house. She used the time to call her sister, Jill, for a good gossip. Jill, the bright, bold, beautiful sister, had been the one who had got her and Ian together for the care of Raymond. And before Jill had given up her restaurant to become a stay-at-home mom, she had helped out financially from time to time after Claude had died. They covered all the family news, her plans to plunge into home teaching and were winding down when the doorbell rang.

“Is that your doorbell?” Jill asked. It had been a loud and prolonged ringing.

“Yes. I’d better run. It can’t be Ian and the kids back so soon. Probably someone selling something or offering to shovel snow.” They rang off.

The doorbell rang again insistently as she was opening the door. For a moment Kate didn’t recognize who it was. She had met Marsha only a few times, very briefly.

“Thank heavens you’re home. Ian isn’t. I rang over there a dozen times. And like an idiot I let my cab go.”

“Marsha!” Kate gasped.

“Yes, the infamous Marsha. Please invite me in. I’m freezing.” She was the same lovely, charming, impeccably groomed woman Kate had last glimpsed. Her exquisite cameo face, framed with near-black hair, her startling violet-blue eyes, her flawless skin. Today she looked like Little Red Riding Hood, enveloped in a capelike coat in vivid scarlet, with a hood trimmed in white fur. Her knee-high black boots were also trimmed in white fur.

“Yes, of course.” Kate stood back to let her in.

“Better get that, too,” Marsha said, coming in. “It has my jewel case in it. I dragged it clear over from next door.” It was then that Kate saw the large suitcase on the bottom step. Kate sighed, then darted out into the icy air to get it.

“Where’s my son? Is he home from school yet?”

“School is closed today,” Kate said, shivering as she shut the door, “because of the snow, but Raymond isn’t here. Ian took him—Ian has all the kids out. I expect them back any time.”

“That’s quite a snowman out there,” Marsha said, shaking out her dark mane of hair as she took off the hooded coat.

“Oh, the kids love it when it snows.”

“Yes, I saw some sliding on the hills when I was coming in from the airport. You did say Ian would be back. He’s not off on some business jaunt. I was rather hoping he would be. Sometimes he can be…a little hard to persuade.”

“No. He just came back from a business trip. Would you like some coffee or something? Have you had lunch?”

“Nothing, thanks. I’m okay. I had something or other on the plane. In one of those little plastic dishes. It wasn’t too bad, and I have to watch my weight.” She glanced over Kate, assuring herself, Kate felt sure, that she was the thinner of the two. “I suppose you’re wondering why I popped in like this.” Marsha sat down in the big chair by the fireplace.

“It did cross my mind,” Kate said, sitting down opposite. Marsha was really so lovely and so poised and confident. No wonder Ian had fallen in love with her. Was he still?

“I…don’t know if Ian has mentioned it or not, but I…” Marsha began.

“Ian mentioned that you planned to marry again,” Kate said. “Congratulations. I hope you will be very happy.”

“I will be. I am.” Marsha smiled her beautiful smile. She held out her elegant left hand. Marsha’s slim hands, always beautifully manicured, made Kate want to put hers in her pockets. “You see,” Marsha continued. “We didn’t wait until June, which was the original plan.”

“Oh? You’ve moved it up?”

“Very much so. We’ve already done it.” And Kate really looked at the hand, with its sparkling diamond solitaire and slender circlet of diamonds that was the wedding ring. “Chet, my husband, is down in Virginia now, explaining things to his family.”

“Wonderful,” Kate said, since that was obviously what Marsha expected her to say. At the same time her heart plummeted. Ian was now no longer liable for alimony payments. He could put Raymond in a boarding school immediately if he wanted to.

“What, er, made you speed it up?”

“Several things. It seemed foolish to wait for a June wedding when it’s a second time around for both of us. Did Ian tell you who I was going to marry?”

“No, he didn’t.” Kate thought it best not to mention that Ian had referred to him as Mr. Right.

“Chet Burgess. Chester Burgess.” Marsha paused, and Kate realized she was supposed to recognize the name.

“I’m afraid that doesn’t ring a bell,” she said apologetically.

“Well, perhaps it wouldn’t,” Marsha conceded. “Chet is with State. The State Department. You’ve probably seen him on TV. He sometimes makes statements, you know, about the nation’s position on this or that or the other thing. He’s an undersecretary. Not that he needs to work. The Burgess family is old money. But all the Burgess men serve the nation in some way—army, navy, government, whatever. I’ll love living in Washington. I mean D.C., of course. Chet and I have bought this perfect little gem of a house in Georgetown. It cost the earth. It’s going to be a wonderful life. I’ve finally got things right.” Her lovely face was glowing.

“Good,” Kate said woodenly. “I’m happy for you, Marsha. I think I should mention that Ian took Raymond to see the pediatrician. I’d better prepare you. He looks pretty awful. He got in a fight at school yesterday. He’s all bruised.”

“A fight. Good heavens. Well, I guess boys will be boys. Ian has him in a public school, hasn’t he?”

“He has been, yes,” Kate said, deciding not to mention the homeschooling plan.

“Well, I can take him off Ian’s hands now that I’m married again. Chet…” She paused, as if deciding how to phrase her next sentence. “Chet is very family. I mean he—he wants a family.” Her tone implied that she didn’t quite understand this but was willing to accept it.

“What do you mean, ‘take him off Ian’s hands’?” Kate asked, knowing the answer before it came.

“Why, I can take him back to D.C. with me, of course. Chet’s prepared to adopt him. Legally. He’ll inherit from Chet. When I explained to Chet how difficult it had been for me to be without my son, he understood immediately.”

Kate felt her mouth go dry. “I thought,” she said carefully, “that Raymond was placed in Ian’s custody at the divorce. Because you…didn’t want his care.”

“Yes, he was. But that’s all changed now. I want him back. He’s my child. I…have to get him back.” Suddenly she sat up very straight and looked squarely at Kate.

“Woman to woman, Kate. Wasn’t your time being pregnant the awfulest, most dreary time in your whole life?”

“No,” Kate gasped. “I loved being pregnant. It was…wonderful.” She just managed to keep from saying, “I wish I were pregnant now. I want Joy to have a sister, as I have.”

Marsha stared at her, confusion in her lovely eyes. “I…don’t understand that,” she murmured at last. “Well,” she added briskly, “it’s academic now. My parents are elated, of course, at my marriage. My father—he’s a retired army colonel, you know—wants Raymond in a good military school. Chet agrees. Chet is so hipped on family.” A shadow of worry came and went in her violet eyes.

“Of course, I promised Chet we would have our own children—child, but later. Not now. We deserve a bit of time together…without…” Her voice dwindled off.

Kate held her peace with an effort. She wanted to scream at the other woman, reprimanding her for her selfishness. Chet wanted a family and Marsha was willing to provide him with a ready-made son—Raymond, who would be warehoused in some cold, austere military school, to be brought out on occasion for display. No longer able to stay seated, Kate got up.

“Marsha, please excuse me. I have a million things to do. Ian will be back soon. There are—there are magazines here on the coffee table.” She indicated the littered table and fled to the kitchen. She stood by the kitchen sink, her hands gripping the edge of it.

Oh, Ian, don’t let this happen.




Chapter Three (#ulink_5054ba7f-f0eb-57e5-a4cc-54c8b0ce343d)


When Ian returned with the children they came in the back door, Ian having parked his van in his own driveway and cut across the backyards. Kate was surprised that they came in so quietly to the service porch, then she saw Raymond’s scowl. She quickly shut the door between the service porch and kitchen.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, starting to help Joy take off her wet snowsuit.

“You’d never guess,” Raymond hissed angrily. “She made me take off all my clothes! And she took a picture!” He flung his damp watch cap into the corner.

“Cool it, Ray,” Ian pleaded, picking up the watch cap and draping it over the edge of the washer. “The ‘she’ my son so disrespectfully refers to is Dr. Madison. And Dr. Madison explained about the picture. It’s a childabuse precaution. Raymond is one big bruise. Doctors have a certain responsibility.”

“It was gross! I’m twelve years old! And there’s no point. I’m not going back to that dumb school.”

“You are also covered with bruises and abrasions and the doctor was only doing what she’s required to do, and—“

“And Dad has to go over to the school, but I’m not going back!”

“All right, Ray, I’ve agreed to that, but as the doctor pointed out, I have an obligation here. The school authorities should be told. It might save some other boy from getting the same treatment you got. You certainly understand that, don’t you?”

“Oh, I guess so,” Raymond admitted reluctantly.

Kate stroked his tousled head. “Look, Raymond, you don’t have to go back, so what do you care? You’ll never see those kids again.” His bruises looked far worse today.

“Yeah, okay,” he said in a small voice.

Kate wondered nervously how she was going to break the news to both of them that Marsha was waiting in the living room. She knew that Raymond regarded his mother, whom he always referred to as “Marsha,” with an odd mixture of natural love and cautious distrust. And Ian? What did Ian really feel about Marsha? He had always been so careful not to betray his feelings.

Tommy said, “Mommy, we don’t need a snack. Ian got us some big pretzels from this vendor guy—”

“And apple juice,” Joy interrupted. “The thick kind, you know.”

“Just a minute, kids. Ian, I want to tell you—”

“I didn’t eat the pretzels,” Raymond said. “I got those soft little cupcake things—”

“Okay, wait a minute,” Kate said desperately. “Ian, you and Raymond have company. Marsha is—”

Ian’s face, half-smiling at the children’s chatter, seemed to close. “What about Marsha?”

“She’s here,” Kate said helplessly. “Ah…she came a while after you had gone. I…she’s in the living room.”

“Marsha’s here?” Raymond asked, suddenly seeming oddly more composed. The complaining child of a moment ago seemed to have changed. Instead there was a cautiousness, a tentativeness about him. He was standing quite still, not leaning against the washer anymore. “She’s not gonna like the way I look,” he added. “Dad?” He looked up at Ian. “Maybe you’d better kinda break it to her…”

Kate, too, glanced up at Ian’s face. He was slightly flushed and—oh, no—-just for an instant had she seen a glint of eagerness? Happiness? Hope?

“Okay,” Ian said. “You’re right. Stay out of sight until I talk to her.” He put his hand on Raymond’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. He was looking at Kate intently.

“Kate? Is there anything else you want to tell me? Before I go in there?”

Kate swallowed. What could she say in front of the kids?

“I…you mentioned that she had found, uh, Mr. Right. Chester Burgess, she said his name is.”

Raymond muttered contemptuously, “Chester Burgess. I met that Chester Burgess. He’s a stick.”

“Well, she told me that, uh, they had been going to marry in June, but they, well, they decided to go ahead with it, and they’re already married.”

Ian started to say something, but Raymond interrupted. “You gotta be kidding! She married that stick? When she coulda had Dad?”

Could she have, Kate thought with a qualm. Would Ian have taken her back?

“Cool it, Ray,” Ian said quietly. “Kate? What else? There’s only one reason for her to come back here after she remarried.”

Kate nodded. He was too perceptive. Her gaze flicked over to Raymond for an instant. She couldn’t help it.

Ian looked grim. “Well, she can forget that.”

“Dad?” Raymond knew immediately what had been left unsaid. “Don’t let them mess with our custody deal, okay…? Okay?”

Kate’s heart went out to him. Children were so at the mercy of adults.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” Ian opened the door to the kitchen and strode through.

“Shut the kitchen door,” Kate said to his retreating back, not sure he had heard her, and making a grab for Joy, who had started to follow him. “Stay here,” she commanded. “We’re going to stay in the kitchen.”

“What’s up?” Tommy asked, frowning. “Why are you so antsy?”

“But what’ll we do in the kitchen? We’re not going to eat yet. There’s nothing to do in the kitchen.”

But there was. Before Ian had taken two steps he met Marsha coming into the room.

“Ian?” she said pleasantly. “I thought I heard voices back—” She stopped, because she had seen Raymond, who had also followed Ian. She gave a cry of horror and covered her face with her hands.

“It’s all right,” Ian said, taking her into his arms. “It’s all right. He’s okay. I know he looks—”

Kate was startled at the wave of pure jealousy that swept through her as Marsha broke away.

“Don’t!” Marsha cried. “What have you done to him! What have you done to my son!”

Raymond groaned. “Marsha, it’s no big deal. Don’t make a big deal of it, okay?”

Kate came forward and took Marsha’s arm. Seeing your child in Raymond’s condition would be a shock—to any mother, even a part-time one. “Sit down here, Marsha. Remember I did tell you that Raymond had been in this school fight. Raymond will be fine. Ian’s just taken him to the pediatrician.”

Marsha sat down at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. “I can’t look,” she moaned. “I can’t look.”

“Well, don’t look,” Ian said coldly. “Just listen. Ray got beaten up by some tough kids at school, and—I’ve taken him out of that school. He won’t be going back. Everything is under control.”

Marsha peeked through her fingers at Raymond and slowly took her hands away from her face. She was trembling. “How could such a thing happen? What kind of school was he in? You should have listened to Daddy. Daddy always said—”

“I know what Daddy always said,” Ian answered. “But let’s forget that. Ray doesn’t want to go to a military school and I agree. But I, we’ve, made other arrangements.” He turned to Kate. “Do you mind if we use your living room? It’s such a mess outside. By the time we get over to my place we’ll be frozen.”

“Please do,” Kate said. She turned to her children. “Go watch a video in your rooms or something. Go on, now. Go.” And with obvious reluctance Joy and Tommy left the kitchen.

“I wanna stay here,” Raymond said tentatively, looking at Ian.

“Sure. Your mother and I need to talk things over. Come on, Marsha. Stop dramatizing. We can talk about this sensibly.” He waited with obvious impatience while she got up and, still casting horrified glances at Raymond, preceded him back toward the living room.

Kate went to look out the window over the sink. It was coming down more heavily now, almost a curtain of white with little chips of ice in it. Her heart was pounding. Dear God, please forgive me. I have no right to be jealous of Marsha. But Ian had reached out to her, taken her into his arms when she had been upset about Raymond. Kate picked up a glass and ran some water into it, took a sip and put it down. She heard Raymond behind her, flinging himself into a kitchen chair.

“They’re gonna have a fight,” he muttered. “I always know when they’re gonna fight. I get the vibes.” He was clicking something. Kate could hear the rhythmic little clicks.

“I don’t care, you know?” Raymond was saying. “They can fight all they want. I don’t care.” His voice sounded oddly thick, and she turned around.

“I don’t care,” Raymond was repeating, and Kate saw tears rolling down his battered face. His thin hand was grasping the saltcellar, which he was hitting the table with again and again. “I don’t care.”

Kate rushed to him and took his bony, shaking body into her arms to hold him close, while angry words came to them from the living room despite the closed door. She wondered frantically if Tommy and Joy had really gone to their rooms.

Marsha was fairly screaming. “He could have been killed! My only child! How could you…”

Then Ian’s voice, lower, controlled. “Keep your voice down!”

“Daddy told you and told you…”

Ian’s voice was saying something they couldn’t hear.

“…Chet said…Chet will adopt him. Chet cares about my son. Chet…”

Kate felt Raymond stiffen against her. “Over my dead body,” he muttered. “That stick.”

“Shush,” Kate said into his hair. “Your father will handle it. Don’t worry.”

Marsha was crying now, great rasping sobs. “My child,” she moaned. “You can’t be trusted to take care…”

Again they couldn’t hear Ian’s response.

“…he’ll put a stop to this…” Marsha’s wail came through.

Then Ian’s voice, angry. “Stop it! Stop this! Hysterics don’t work with me anymore. You’re talking nonsense!”

Kate was holding her breath, waiting, but no further sound came, and she heard Ian’s firm footsteps coming toward the kitchen. Raymond straightened and grabbed a paper napkin to blot his face, but not soon enough.

Ian came over to the table. His face was flushed with anger, his eyes glinting. His hands rubbed over Raymond’s thin shoulders. “Forget whatever you heard, buddy,” he said. “We’re a team. Nothing’s going to change that. Okay?” He turned to Kate. “I’m sorry. This is embarrassing.”

“It’s all right,” Kate said quickly. “Can I help? Can I do anything?”

“No. I mean yes. Maybe you can. She’ll have a splitting headache. She always does when she has one of these screaming fits. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry about this.”

“No problem,” Kate said, taking a clean glass down from the cupboard. She was aware that her hands were slightly shaking.

Somehow she got the aspirin bottle and a glass of water into the living room without mishap, feeling a surge of mixed emotions. Marsha was sitting on the couch, leaning forward, her hands braced on the coffee table.

“Here, Marsha. Take a couple of aspirin. You’ll feel better,” Kate said. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for her.

“I need some tissues,” Marsha said piteously. “Have you got some tissues? Ian is such a beast. He never understands.” She started to cry again.

“I’ll get some,” Kate said, putting down the water and aspirin. When she came back with the box Marsha was putting the glass back down on the table.

“I took two. You said a couple,” she said, like a little girl who had done as she had been told and wanted praise for it.

“Good. Now here are the tissues,” Kate said. “Would you like to freshen up a bit?” She didn’t want to tell Marsha that her eye makeup was smudged below her lovely eyes.

“I’m…probably a mess,” Marsha said tiredly. “Yes, I should…freshen up,” she added without moving. “I’m just so beat. I’ve been on the go for twenty-four hours. If I weren’t so tired I…wouldn’t have lost control like that. But seeing Raymond…” Her voice dwindled away.

“Would you like to lie down a while?” Kate asked.

“I’d like to…go to bed,” Marsha said. “Would that be asking too much?” She started to say something else, but Ian came into the room.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “We’ve imposed on Kate enough. She doesn’t have any spare rooms. Come on. I’ll take you next door.”

“Don’t you be ridiculous,” she said, anger underlying her tone. “I’m Chet’s wife. I don’t think he’d take kindly to that.” There was just a hint of smugness as she watched Ian’s face flame.

“You can have my room,” Kate said quickly. “It would be better than trying to get a cab in this weather to find some hotel. It’s all right, Ian. This couch is a makedown and very comfortable. Don’t worry. Come along, Marsha. You’ll feel better after you’ve had some rest. I’ll bring you something to eat later.”

Ian still loves her. Kate forced herself to be calm and composed. She showed Marsha the bathroom, got her clean towels and washcloth. She made up her own bed with fresh sheets.

Keep busy. Don’t think. Why do I feel this way because Ian loves Marsha? She wondered. He’s only my neighbor. I don’t care. I mean, I shouldn’t care. But I do. I do. I care. She was vaguely aware that Tommy and Joy had gone back to the kitchen to be with Raymond and that the children were talking, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Where is Ian? What is Ian doing? she thought. Was he still in the living room? What was he thinking? Was he racked with jealousy because of this Chet person? Chet’s a stick, Ian.

Marsha was showered and sweetly fragrant when she came into Kate’s bedroom and saw the turned-down bed.

“Oh, Kate, thank you. A bed never looked so good. It just came over me all of a sudden. I just hit the wall. I’ve never felt so exhausted. I used your hair dryer, I hope that was okay. I thought I’d brought mine, but I couldn’t find it in the bag.”

“Of course, that’s okay. Just get into bed. I’ll bring you something to eat later.”

“No, please don’t. All I want is sleep. You’re an angel to do this.” Marsha slipped out of her elegant peach-colored robe, revealing an elegant peach-colored nightgown, and got into Kate’s bed with a sigh. “I’ll have to call your hairdresser tomorrow,” she said tiredly. “Turn off all the lights, will you? I don’t sleep well with any light on.”

I don’t have a hairdresser, Kate thought. Can’t you tell by my awful hair? She hurriedly got her own nightclothes and took them into Joy’s room until she needed them. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was hearing her sister Jill’s voice, and Jill was saying something about highlights and glints. She was saying, No, I don’t mean dyeing. I mean just adding a touch of light here and there. I see you with short hair, a layered, smart-looking style. And at some time or other Jill had offered to do what she called a “makeover.” Bracing herself, Kate went back into the living room. Forget makeover, Jill. I can never compete with Marsha. Not in a million years.

Ian was slumped on the couch. He was putting the glass down on the table. “I took some of your aspirin,” he said bleakly. “I’m really embarrassed about this. I can usually manage to keep my troubles to myself.”

Kate sat down opposite him. “Don’t worry. These things happen. I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you in front of Raymond, but Marsha mentioned that adoption idea to me, so I knew it was coming.” She glanced at her watch. It was only four forty-five. Not time to start dinner yet.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Ian muttered. “Marsha’s always got an angle. My guess is that Burgess wants a family—he’s a bit older than she is.” He looked at her questioningly.

“I…I think that’s what she said. She plans to have their own baby,” Kate said, to be fair. “But not immediately.”

“Don’t take any bets on it,” Ian said. “Raymond was what they call an ‘unplanned pregnancy.’ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping on you like this.”

“It’s all right. This is stressful for all of you,” Kate said. She knew all about Raymond’s beginnings. They had been too careless, not realizing how quickly he understood the nuances. I heard ’em fighting, see. I almost got aborted. Marsha’s always bringing it up to him. How he told Granddad and Granddad put a stop to it. There’s lots of money on the Greer side and Marsha’s an only child. Raymond hadn’t missed much.

“How’s Marsha doing?” Ian asked.

“She took a shower and went to bed. She did seem exhausted.”

“I’m sure she is. That’s vintage Marsha. She’s probably bushed. She does that, goes and goes and goes and then crashes. This is an old rerun. Burgess didn’t come with her? Did she say where he is?”

“I think she said he had gone to break the news to his family about the marriage, about not waiting for the June wedding.”

He was quiet for a time, slowly twisting the water glass on the coffee table, around and around. He looked desolate, and it tore her heart. She was accustomed to seeing him as Raymond saw him—confident, successful, always in control. Dad’s always been first string. In everything. All his life he’s total success. She wanted desperately to comfort him in some way. Almost six years ago when Claude had died she had settled down to a life of widowhood and motherhood, sure she could never be attracted to another man.

Until now.

For the first time she admitted to herself honestly that she could love again and, Oh, dear God, help me, this was the man. She wanted to touch him, push back his hair from falling over his forehead, reassure him, heal his hurt.

He looked up at her, his beautiful hazel eyes troubled. “You’re a good friend, Kate.”

A good friend. She made herself say it. “Well, neighbors help neighbors, Ian. And you know how fond I am of Raymond.”

“You’ve been a godsend to my boy. I could never repay you for what you do for him.”

I don’t want you to pay me. I want you to love me. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, for fear of what he might see in her eyes. Sounding practical and neighborly, she said, “What will you do now? Don’t you think you’d better try to nip this adoption idea in the bud? Can you do that?”

“Yes. Absolutely. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can. I know I’m just a working stiff and I’m up against people who can usually get their way, but I don’t think Justin—Marsha’s dad—will go for that. He’s a pretty fair-minded guy. Things like old-fashioned honor count with him.”

“Where is he? Can you reach him?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost five.”

“They’re over in Scottsdale for the winter. They like the sun. He’d just about be coming in from the golf course, I think. May I use your phone? Now, where’s my phone card?” He had taken out his billfold and was shuffling through credit cards. Kate got up to leave and he glanced up. “Would you mind sticking around? I…kinda need some moral support.”

“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 (#ulink_b25b4e9f-a0d4-53b8-ab52-706c8a0bbcbf)


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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