Baby, Come Home (16 page)

26

F
or the next few weeks they settled into a tolerable, if not comfortable, routine of Kendall picking up Tony from school for a couple of hours of work, then delivering him back to the boardinghouse where Amy helped him with homework. On Saturdays, Tony spent the day with Kendall and slept in the bunkhouse. On Sundays, he was with Amy all day.

But the exchanges were contentious because Amy felt as if Tony was always too tired to complete his homework, while Kendall argued that she’d agreed that Tony working to pay off the fine was the right life lesson. And no matter how much Amy prepared herself to see Kendall, no matter how often she promised herself she wouldn’t let him goad her into saying something cutting or unpleasant, the mere sight of him undid all those assurances that had seemed so ironclad when she’d made them. Unintended words flew out of her mouth like arrows, and each encounter seemed to escalate. She would always walk away feeling miserable that Tony had witnessed yet another altercation between his parents.

She was afraid the strain was wearing on him.

It was certainly wearing on her.

Kendall had made it clear that he would never forgive her for not telling him about Tony, and that he thought she’d done a substandard job of raising his son. The fact that she knew how he felt about her, yet she still lay awake at nights thinking about his big body arching into hers, left her feeling ashamed.

But hadn’t he always been her weakness?

Amy sipped a cup of coffee as she scanned the nearly completed covered bridge. It promised to be a spectacle. By her estimation, they would be finished within another two weeks, which would coincide with the end of the school quarter. If she could hold on and hold out for another two weeks, she’d be home free.

Home. Back in Broadway.

The sight of Kendall’s black truck made her pulse jump, as if she’d conjured him up with her thoughts. She frowned when she saw that Tony was in the passenger seat. She glanced at her watch—it was too early for school to be out. When Tony climbed out and looked up, her stomach dropped. He had a black eye.

She strode toward them, trying not to panic. “Tony, what happened?”

“It’s no big deal,” Kendall said.

She glared at him, angry that he would dismiss her concern. “I asked Tony.” She put her hand under Tony’s chin and angled his injured eye toward her. “Tell me.”

Tony grimaced. “I got in a fight.”

“What about?”

He shrugged.

“I asked you a question, young man.”

“It was with an older boy,” Kendall said.

She looked up. It was obvious that Tony had called Kendall when he’d gotten in trouble. Not her. “If you don’t mind, Kendall, I’m addressing my son.” She looked back to Tony. “Who had better speak if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Leave me alone.” Tony swatted away her hand, then turned and jumped back in the truck and locked the doors.

“Tony!” she shouted. “What are you doing?”

“Leave him be,” Kendall said, his hand on her arm. “He got into a fight over a girl. He was too embarrassed to call you.”

Amy blinked. “A girl? What girl?”

“The girl who comes here every day to take pictures.”

“Betsy?”

“Yeah. Apparently an older boy was bothering her, and Tony said something to him and they got into a fight. The other boy definitely got the worse end of it.”

She was incredulous. “You’re gloating? I can’t believe this—I’ve taught my son not to fight and you’re encouraging it?”

Kendall grunted. “He’s a
boy,
Amy! He has testosterone, and a lot of it. He’s going to be aggressive at times. I’d much rather see him get in trouble for defending someone than for vandalizing a school!”

“You only think that’s worse because it happened on my watch,” she said. “But when he does something and he’s been under your influence, you find a way to justify it.”

“That’s not true!” he shouted. “There’s a big difference in doing something wrong for the right reason and doing something wrong just for kicks. I’ve been trying to teach him how to be a responsible man, to stick up for people who can’t fend for themselves.”

“So he gets hurt himself?” Amy shouted back. “This is exactly the kind of Southern macho bull crap I didn’t want him to learn, Kendall! It’s just posturing, like the whole surname thing!”

“A son should have his father’s name—he’s an Armstrong!”

“He has a name already—it’s Bradshaw!”

“Stop fighting!” Tony yelled through the windshield.

When Amy turned her head to look at her son inside the truck, he had his hands over his ears. Of course he’d heard everything they’d said—they’d been shouting at the top of their lungs. Amy looked around and realized the machinery on the jobsite had quieted and the workers were staring in their direction, too. Everyone had heard them.

She looked at Kendall and he realized it, too.

“Was he expelled?” she asked, her voice calm now.

“No.” His voice was quieter, too. “He has to sit in detention when he goes back Monday.”

“What about his eye?”

“I stopped at the clinic on the way here and Nikki took a look at it. She gave him an ice pack and some over-the-counter painkiller. He’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.”

“I thought I’d take him to Clover Ridge on four-wheelers to visit the homestead and do some chores around the cemetery. We can roast hot dogs for dinner. I believe he can handle one of the smaller ATV’s…if that’s okay with you.”

She nodded. “He’d like that. But let me talk to him first. Can you unlock the doors?”

Kendall pulled out his keyless entry remote control and unlocked the truck doors. Amy walked around to the driver’s side and opened it to climb in. She closed the door behind her, then sat back in the seat.

After a few minutes’ silence, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Tony asked.

“For yelling at your father in front of you. We both care about you, but we have different ideas about how to raise you. It’s not fair to you.”

“Mom, when can we go home?”

“Soon. The bridge is nearly finished, and the winter quarter ends in what—two weeks?” She smiled. “I can bear it for two more weeks if you can.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, too, for fighting.”

“I know. Listen, your dad wants to take you out on four-wheelers to see where he grew up. Would you like that?”

He grinned. “Yeah!”

“Wear a helmet,” she said, wagging a finger. “And don’t drive fast.”

“Mom.”

She smiled. “And have fun.”

“I love you, Mom.”

How long had it been since he’d offered it first? “I love you, too.”

“Don’t kiss me.”

“Can I at least make the smooching noise?”

“Mom.”

“Okay. Be careful.” She opened the door and dropped to the ground. Kendall stood there, expectant.

Would he ever stop making her heart thrash in her chest? “We’re good. Will you let me know when he’s in tonight?”

“Sure.” He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but she didn’t dare risk another argument, so she turned and headed back toward the jobsite and immersed herself in the details of getting the final touches put on the covered bridge. The full skeleton was up, including the ceiling trusses. The pedestrian sidewalk was also complete. All temporary steel support had been removed and the bridge was now a self-supporting timber structure. Many details remained to be completed, including siding, roof and shingles. But she was very pleased with the progress.

A few minutes later, Betsy arrived, camera in tow. She took a few pictures, then looked all around.

“Ms. Bradshaw, is Tony going to be here today?”

“No. He’s out with his father.”

Her shoulders fell. “Can you give him a message for me?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“The message is…I think he’s kind of cool.” She lifted the camera and resumed taking pictures.

Amy shook her head. That Southern macho bull crap had worked on her when she was a teenager. Apparently, it was still working.

27

K
endall stood at the door to his son’s room. “Good night, Tony.”

“Good night, Dad.”

Kendall stopped, surprised.

Tony looked worried. “Is it okay if I call you ‘Dad’?”

Damn, his heart was going to burst. “Yeah…it sounds good.”

Tony grinned. “Good.”

Kendall backed out of the room and closed the door, then exhaled.

It had been a near-perfect evening with his son—riding four-wheelers up to Clover Ridge to show Tony where he and his brothers had grown up, and explaining how the tornado had blown everything away. Tony had been fascinated by the story of his grandmother Emily and uncle Porter taking cover in the root cellar.

They had visited the cemetery and he’d shown Tony the grave of the grandfather he was named for, and the graves of Amy’s parents. They had trimmed weeds and cleared branches and picked up litter. Then they’d built a small fire pit next to the stacked logs drying for Porter’s house and roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. Tony had told him all about fantasy baseball, and taught him a few soccer terms.

The only way it would’ve been a nicer evening, Kendall thought as he walked toward Amy’s room, was if Amy had been with them.

He knocked on her door and his pulse ratcheted higher in anticipation of seeing her in her gown and robe.

She answered the door, but opened it only a few inches. “Hi.”

“Hi. He’s in bed.”

“Did you have a good time?”

He nodded. “Tony asked if he could call me ‘Dad.’”

Her lips parted, and the door opened a little wider, giving him a better peek at the gown and robe. “That’s…great.”

“So I guess now we’re Mom and Dad.”

“I guess so.” She bit her lip, then gestured into the room. “I have something to show you if you have a few minutes.”

As if he would turn down an invitation into her room. “Sure.”

He walked in, then closed the door behind him.

Amy had stepped to the closet and appeared to be rummaging through the side pockets of a suitcase. He enjoyed the view of her backside while she stooped and stretched. His jeans suddenly felt a little tighter.

“I remembered something,” came her muffled voice. “Ah, here it is.” She straightened, then turned, holding a small book. Her face was radiant with a happy smile. “When I used to travel more, I always carried a photo album with pictures of Tony. I thought you might want to see some pictures of him when he was younger.”

He smiled. “Show me.”

She walked over to sit on the edge of the made bed, seemingly oblivious to what it did to him to have her and a mattress in proximity to each other. He swallowed hard and lowered himself to sit next to her.

She opened the book. “Here is Tony at five days old.”

His son already looked like him, the eyebrows, the stubborn chin. Kendall studied the background of the picture, then frowned. “He was still in the hospital?”

“He was born with a respiratory problem, so they wanted to keep him a little longer.”

“Was it serious?”

“It was more scary than serious, and he didn’t have any permanent damage. He’s perfectly healthy now.”

His heart gave a squeeze. She’d been young and alone. She must have been terrified.

“Here he is at six months, look how much he’d grown. At that point, he would literally outgrow an outfit before he could wear it twice.”

She’d never contacted him for money, or any other kind of support. How had she worked and put herself through engineering school and taken care of a baby? His mind reeled.

“The rest of these were taken on his birthday, every year up until ten.”

Kendall could’ve been looking at his own baby pictures, Tony looked so much like him at every age. But the props were different—the soccer ball cake, the guitar video game he played. Kendall studied the pictures and saw the loving touches in the photos—friends his age, party favors and always a special cake. Amy had been a devoted mother to his son. To accuse her of anything less was only retaliation on his part.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

She smiled. “You’re welcome. I have more pictures at home, and I’ll have copies of everything made for you.”

“I meant thank you for raising my son and taking such good care of him.”

Her smile wavered. “You’re welcome.” Then she bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Kendall, for not telling you about Tony sooner. It was selfish of me.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me. I can’t imagine what you sacrificed to get by.” He lifted a hand to her face. “I admire you so much.”

Slowly, he leaned forward to kiss her, prepared to stop if she put up the slightest resistance.

But she didn’t. When his lips touched hers, she sighed into this mouth. His senses leapt as he curled his fingers around her neck and pulled her closer for a deeper kiss. He pressed her back into the covers and opened her robe, then skimmed the gown up to her thighs. She pulled his shirt over his head and helped loosen his belt. While he discarded his boots and jeans, she shed the gown. When Kendall came back to her, she reached for him and brought him to near ecstasy with her hands and mouth.

He rolled down the minuscule underwear she wore and tasted her damp folds until she cried out with her first orgasm. Then with the taste of her still on his lips, he sheathed himself, settled between her thighs and drove himself home.

Being buried inside Amy was heaven and torture at the same time. Every movement felt rapturous, but brought him closer to completion, which he wanted to postpone. He pushed his fingers into her hair and whispered encouragement to her and soon, their bodies were rising and falling together in another climax that made his mind spin.

Before his body had quieted, he wanted her again, and began a new, slower rhythm. He clasped her hands over her head and looked into her eyes while he moved inside her. She came apart in his arms, but still he claimed her, pumping into her until she succumbed a second time…then a third. Finally he took his own shattering release, clenching his muscles hard before falling exhausted on her breasts.

Kendall dressed as quietly as he could so as not to disturb Amy. He moved quickly because the sun was rising and he needed to get out of the boardinghouse before anyone saw him. It was Saturday morning, so everyone would be sleeping in a little later than usual, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

He opened the door a few inches. When he thought the coast was clear, he opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

Directly in front of Tony, who was dressed and headed toward Amy’s room.

Kendall froze and watched helplessly as Tony looked back and forth between his mother’s door and Kendall. Suddenly his expression morphed from confusion to clarity.

“You slept with my mom?” Tony cried.

Kendall lifted his hands. “Tony, let me explain.” But words failed him.

Amy’s door swung open and she stood there in her robe, her hair disheveled. She took one look at Tony and her eyes closed. “Oh, no.”

“You slept with my mom!” Tony yelled, going after Kendall with his fists like a windmill. “You disrespected her!”

Kendall let the boy pummel him, then he caught his fists. “Okay, settle down. Let’s talk about this without disturbing the entire house.”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Tony said, pushing away. He was crying now. “All your dumb talk about responsibility and being a man. You weren’t being responsible when you got my mother pregnant, and you’re not being responsible now! You’re a hypocrite!”

Doors were opening and people were coming out into the hall.

“Kendall, you need to leave,” Amy said. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Now.”

“Let’s talk about this, like a family,” he said.

Amy looked at him, shaking her head. “That’s the point, Kendall. We’re not your family.”

He clasped her arm. “Amy, I don’t want to leave.”

“Leave my mother alone!” Tony shouted, and started punching Kendall for all he was worth. “Get your hands off her!”

Kendall put his hands up and backed away. “Okay, I’m leaving.” He spoke to people he passed in the hallway. “Sorry for the disturbance, folks.”

He exited the boardinghouse feeling like the world’s biggest ass…and the world’s worst father. He would never forget the look on his son’s face when he realized what Kendall had done, what Kendall had taken. Tony was right—he was a hypocrite.

It was admirable that the boy was so protective of his mother.

And it was shameful that of the two guys in Amy’s life, Tony was the bigger man.