A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) (14 page)

A chill rushed over Keegan, and he tugged the covers closer. The heavy drapes were blocking out the morning sun, and he’d turned the air conditioner down to 65 when he went to bed last night. That was all it was. An icy room. Not dread.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Pray God, not more than a week or so. You know Ford. He’s tough. He’ll be up and about in no time. Anyways, Mariah and I are flying to Dallas and then into Tulsa. You got paper and a pen? We’ll be arriving in Tulsa at two fifteen on flight number—”

He rummaged through the night table, then found a notepad and pencil on the kitchenette counter, scribbling the information. She made him repeat it back to her, then sighed. “You’re okay with this, aren’t you? It’ll be good for the two of you to spend some time together. She needs to know who you are.”

Who I am doesn’t have a damn bit of importance in her life.
But he kept the retort inside. This was his mother, after all.

“Uh, yeah, I guess…You’ll come back this way on your way home, right? If I’m still here?”

“Of course. I can’t leave my little sweetheart for long. I’ll tell Ford you send your love.” She snickered. She’d spent too many years breaking up her boys’ expressions of affection. “Two fifteen, okay? You’ll be there, right? I’m bringing her little booster seat so you won’t have to worry about that.”

Keegan rubbed his forehead with his free hand. A booster seat was the least of his worries. “Yeah, Mom, I’ll be there.”

After hanging up, he looked around the room. It was a great room for a motel. For one person. He supposed he could make up a bed on the sofa for Mariah. There was really nothing to childproof, not that she was much of an explorer. Oh, God, he was going to have to do things for her, like bathe her and take her to the bathroom. She was potty-trained, wasn’t she? And find out what she would eat and read stories to her and—

He was going to have to talk to her.

They didn’t talk. Ever. He’d say hello or good-bye, at his mother’s prompting, but not even Ercella could get the kid to say something back to him.

This wasn’t how his trip was supposed to go. It had seemed such a good idea in the beginning: Matheson would be accommodating; so would his wife; Keegan would dispense of his only non-birth-given responsibilities to Mariah.

Matheson wasn’t supposed to be dead. Therese wasn’t supposed to be so damn appealing. And Mariah was supposed to get out of his life, not dig her way in deeper.

Before leaving for Tulsa he had time to run four miles, shower, eat, and obsess for a while over where Sabrina might be and how much good it would do if he tracked her down. Would she be apologetic and happy to see her daughter again?

Probably not. She’d walked away from Mariah once already. It wouldn’t be any harder the second time.

Long before he was ready, he found himself standing in the baggage area at Tulsa International. A walkway separated baggage from where passengers arrived, and he waited at the end of it, as far as unticketed passengers were allowed to go, pacing from one side to the other. When the flight arrival was announced, he stopped and pivoted, staring. After a few minutes, a flood of passengers appeared at the far end, a few strolling as they talked, most rushing with long strides, wheeled bags bumping behind them, dodging slower movers and each other.

And there, bringing up the rear, his mother and a tall, slender kid—military by the looks of his haircut and bearing. Ercella’s arms were wrapped around a pink molded plastic seat, and her bulging purse hung from one shoulder. It took Keegan a moment to realize that the kid was carrying another bulging bag, done in pinks and purples, and, on one hip, Mariah.

She’d lived with him for more than a month but warmed up to a stranger on a plane while still eyeing him with obvious suspicion.

“—you so much,” Ercella was saying when they came near. “You’ve been such an angel, Jeremy. You enjoy your time home and be careful when you get back over there. Your mama wants you back in one piece.” They stopped, and she lifted Mariah from the kid’s arms and handed her to Keegan, then enveloped the boy in a hug.

“You take care, too, Mrs. L.” Jeremy smiled politely as he held out the pink and purple bag, then headed off to meet his own family a few yards away.

“You never met a stranger, did you?” Keegan asked, trying subtly to give Mariah to her.

Ercella smiled, hugging him and pretending she didn’t notice him pushing the girl at her. “What’s the fun in that? Jeremy was a big help on the plane. He entertained Mariah from Alexandria to Dallas, then here, and carried her, too. Now, I don’t have a lot of time before my flight leaves and I have to go back through security, so let’s get her bag and get you on your way. You’ll know it when you see it. It matches her tote.”

Grudgingly he held on to Mariah. She was no happier to be there than he was to have her there. Her little body had gone stiff the moment Ercella placed her in his arms, and her smile had disappeared along with Jeremy the angel. She was holding herself rigid and glaring at him as if he’d soured her entire day. For just a moment, he was tempted to glare back. She hadn’t done wonders for his past month.

You’re the adult,
Ercella had admonished him when discussing Mariah’s failure to warm up to him. He didn’t feel much like an adult.

“She’s potty-trained, isn’t she?”

His mother frowned as she took a place at the end of the luggage conveyor rumbling to life. “Of course she is. She’s almost three years old.”

“Can she feed herself?”

“Most things. You have to cut her meat and maybe mash up some potatoes or carrots.”

“Can she bathe herself?”

Another frown. “Keegan, she’s almost three. Could you bathe yourself when you were almost three?” She raised one hand before he could speak. “No, you couldn’t. And you still needed someone to wipe your bottom. And you had to have three bedtime stories every night. And you slept with a nightlight on. And so does she, on all that. Heavens, have you not noticed anything in the past month?”

He’d noticed he was living with his mother again, which he hadn’t done since he was eighteen. “What does she do?”

“She plays. She loves long walks. She watches cartoons but only on PBS. Educational stuff. She takes a nap after lunch, and she goes to bed no later than nine. She does what you did, and your brothers and your sisters, and she— Oh, there’s her bag.”

He stepped forward, but Ercella had already snagged the pink and purple case. She pressed the handle into his free hand, then tucked the booster seat between his arm and chest. “Okay, darlin’, I’ve got to go now.”

“Okay,” Keegan and Mariah answered at the same time. She turned another scowl on him for assuming that he was his mother’s darlin’. Well, he had been for thirty-one years.

“You don’t have to see me to security. You just go on. The sooner you two are alone together, the sooner she’ll understand.” Ercella hugged him again, hugged, and made loud kissy noises with Mariah, then she started away. No long-drawn-out farewells for her.

“Call me when you know something about Ford.”

“I will.”

As Mariah watched his mother walk away, her tension increased until it was like trying to cradle a board. She pushed away, wriggling to get down, and when she couldn’t, she kicked him hard in the thigh.

“Hey, stop that. No kicking allowed.”

Her mouth puckered, she drew a breath, then unleashed a shriek that made everyone in the immediate area flinch. There was no way his mother could have not heard it, but she was still hustling down the long corridor that led to the security screening.

Oh, God, this was
not
the trip he’d planned.

The dentist was behind schedule, so it was nearly five thirty by the time Therese and Abby reached their neighborhood that afternoon. Instead of going straight home, Therese detoured past the Nguyen house, pulling into the driveway. “Run to the door and get your brother, will you?”

Abby looked horrified. “You’re kidding. What if someone sees me? Triana Campbell lives right across the street, and she’s the biggest gossip in school.”

“I’m not asking you to take up residence. Go ring the bell and tell Jacob let’s go.”

They stared at each other, and Therese was starting to expect a refusal. Heaving a sigh and muttering beneath her breath, Abby got out, took a few furtive looks around, then rushed up the steps and rang the bell.

The door opened, and Jacob came out, followed by Ryan. Despite Abby’s claim, she didn’t look like a boy at all. She just hadn’t started to develop yet. She was as tall as Jacob, board-thin, with cocoa-creamy skin, brown eyes that tilted exotically, and black hair, silky and short. She reminded Therese of a newborn colt with her long legs and arms and movements that weren’t quite synced, as if she’d grown so quickly, she hadn’t had time to adjust.

While the younger two talked, Abby turned and flounced down the steps. As she reached the sidewalk, someone called her name from across the street. Triana, Therese guessed by the sudden flush reddening Abby’s face, her ducked head, and her accelerated pace back to the car.

She threw herself into the backseat, slamming the door. Jacob’s entry into the front passenger seat was practically silent in contrast. Therese backed out, grateful it was such a short drive home.

As they turned at the corner, Abby straightened from her slouch. “Oh, God, you are going to ruin my life. Triana will tell everyone I was at Ryan’s house, and people will think I like her. I. Don’t. Like. Her.” She thumped Jacob on the back of the head. “This is all your fault.”

“Hey,” Therese said sharply. “No hitting.”

Jacob smirked over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, Ryan doesn’t want people thinking you’re friends any more than you do.”

“Ha! She should be so lucky to have me for a friend. People adore me. They admire me. They just think she’s a joke.”

“She’s not a joke!” Jacob snapped. After a moment he glanced at Therese. “She’s not a joke. She’s really smart. She just…” At a loss for words, he shrugged and turned away.

“I’m sure she’s very nice.” Therese turned into their drive, and the instant the van stopped, Abby jumped out and rushed inside, using her own key.

“Jacob.” Therese faced him on the sidewalk. “Does Abby have friends besides Nicole and Payton and those girls?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is she mean to other kids?”

He shrugged again, with his head ducked and his gaze on the ground. Paul had done that when he didn’t want to talk about something. After a moment, he walked off. By the time she got inside, he was in the kitchen, looking for a snack.

Therese put her purse down, then went upstairs. The temptation to pass Abby’s room and go straight to her own was strong, but after a moment she stopped and knocked at the door. Naturally Abby didn’t invite her in; naturally that didn’t keep her out.

Her stepdaughter lay on the bed, her backpack tossed on the floor and her phone in front of her. Her hands were tucked under her chin, and she was staring at the phone as if willing it to ring. “What do you want?”

Therese walked past a pile of dirty clothes. Jacob managed to get his discards in the hamper every day, though she suspected it was more the fun of making the shot from across the room than any desire for neatness. Abby seemed to think the laundry faerie would blink hers to the laundry room.

Pulling the chair out from the desk, Therese moved a stack of DVDs, then sat down. Every conversation she’d had with Abby in recent memory had been loaded with her hostility and Therese’s own pathetic attempts at patience, discipline, and understanding. She didn’t expect this one to be any different. “Why don’t you like Ryan?”

Abby scowled harder at the phone. If it would ring, she would have an excuse to shove Therese out the door and delay or avoid the conversation entirely. The sad thing was, Therese would welcome the delay and/or avoidance just as much as Abby would.

“What’s so awful about her?” Therese waited until Abby was about to speak, then added, “Your own opinion. Not Nicole’s. Not Payton’s.”

“My opinion
is
their opinion. I agree with them a hundred percent. She’s a geek. She’s dumb. She looks like a boy. She’s weird.”

“How well did you get to know her before she was transferred? Did you talk to her? Have lunch with her? Work on any projects with her?”

“Duh. I hang out with the cool kids.”

“By ‘cool,’ you mean lacking compassion, kindness, empathy, and common courtesy.”

Abby rolled into a sitting position, knees bent, ankles crossed, as graceful as a dancer. “You weren’t one of the cool kids, were you?” Her chin tilted. “You can’t tell me who to be friends with. I’m not a loser like Ryan. I’ve got friends.”

“Friends who admire you.” The earlier pronouncement had been so arrogant coming from a girl barely in her teens. Therese would have rolled her eyes and snorted if it hadn’t made her worry instead.

Abby’s response was underwhelming. “What can I say?”

“Obviously, I don’t know Ryan. Apparently, you don’t, either. But I’m guessing, with both her parents deployed, leaving her friends, and moving here, she’s had some tough times. I’d hope that, having been through what you have, you would have some empathy for her. Life is full of heartaches, Abby. The only good thing about that is we can learn from them. We can be kinder. More understanding. More accepting. Or what’s the point?”

Before Abby could counter her argument, Therese stood and walked to the door, then turned back. “I hope you’ll reconsider the way you feel about Ryan. If she and your brother are going to be friends, she’ll be spending time here. It would be easier without your hostility. But I expect you to change the way you talk about her. If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. No more insults. Understood?”

For a long time, she thought the only response she would get was the angry glower, but after a moment, Abby curtly nodded.

Therese closed the door quietly behind her and listened for a response. No shrieking, no slamming, no throwing. Nothing but stillness. She doubted a single word she’d said had penetrated, but at least she’d said them.