Texas Dad (Fatherhood) (11 page)

Until he walked into that library, saw Jill and was tossed into a sea of memories. Sweet memories of a carefree time before one bad thing after another had struck.

So why had he come away from the library feeling so angry? He’d been nothing but cantankerous since—far from how he felt inside anytime he ran into Jill. Like the night on the patio when he couldn’t help but kiss her.

And not ten minutes ago Erma had caught him salivating over the idea of hauling Jill off to his bedroom. He adjusted the loose-fitting cargo shorts he’d thrown on after his shower. Come to think of it, where were all his blue jeans? There hadn’t been any in his closet.

As he waited for Erma to finish her call, the front door opened and he heard a melding of girlish and womanly laughter. Zoey and Jill came down the hall. They were both weighed down by piles of stuff.

“Hey, do either of you need help?” he called, then was sorry to acknowledge how quickly their laughter died.

“We’re bringing back everything we dragged out to your pickup,” Jill said.

“Oh, I see you have some things from my closet.” He untangled eight or so hangers from Jill’s left arm. “And you have the bedspread my mother crocheted. It was one of my dad’s most prized possessions, but he never used it on his bed.”

Jill handed it to him and smiled. “I only knew it was handmade, old and irreplaceable. When Erma saw me with it, she said it was one of the few things you have of your mom’s.”

Erma wheeled into the hall. “It’s something you’ll want to put in Zoey’s hope chest, Mackenzie.”

“What’s a hope chest?” Zoey asked. She had one foot on the stairs that led to the second story. Turning back to face the others, she dropped a pillow and a stuffed lamb that had been perched atop the photo albums and frames she carried.

“Most kids don’t have them anymore,” Jill said, shaking her bangs out of her eyes.

Erma looked up at Zoey. “In my day when a girl became a teen, her family would fill a cedar box with special things a new bride would need, like hand-sewn or embroidered linens, maybe silverware or china. Mothers and grandmothers taught the girls how to make handcrafts, and they all spent time sewing pretty things. Because the girls dreamed of getting married, the boxes became known as hope chests.”

Mack and Zoey looked at Erma with doubt.

“What? Neither of you has heard of hope chests?”

“Do you have one, J.J.?” Zoey asked.

“No. Even if moms did that in the ’90s, my mother wasn’t into handcrafts, which is why I find it odd that she’s now immersed in a ceramics course. She dreamed of traveling, so she bought me suitcases for my high school graduation. It’s just as well since mine would be more like a hopeless chest.”

“Hopeless, why?” Zoey tried to peer around her dad, who had picked up the pillow and the lamb.

Mack glanced at Jill and saw sadness in her eyes before she lowered her lashes.

“If I got a dime every time you asked why, Ms. Nosybody, we’d be zillionaires,” Mack said. “Upstairs with you, monkey, before you lose any more of your treasures. And go slow so you don’t trip and fall,” he said, nudging her upward with his elbow.

“Aw, it must have something to do with love,” Zoey groused, plodding up a few steps. “I told Brandy nobody ever explains anything if it has to do with love.”

“My job keeps me traveling around the world,” Jill added, “it’s why people would say there’s no hope left.”

Zoey had reached the landing and stopped. “Well, I think you can still get married if you want to, J.J.” She disappeared around the bend and on into her room, leaving Mack and J.J. standing awkwardly below with Erma, who didn’t try to hide her sly grin.

Jill flushed. “Um, I...had better put these things back where I found them. Then I’ll help Erma make supper.”

“Zoey tends not to filter what comes out of her mouth,” Mack said. “I’m sure it never occurred to her that you could be dating someone in New York.”

“I’m not.”

He ought to let that go. “No surprise. What man could pry you away from the career and the city that’s more important to you than anything else?”

“Not true. If I didn’t need health benefits I could set my own hours freelancing, and I wouldn’t need to work in New York City.” Jill nipped in her lower lip. “But maybe that isn’t what you were getting at. What were you asking, Mack?”

Standing here, face-to-face, offered the perfect opportunity to ask the question that had plagued him for so many years. But, with Erma looking on, Mack got cold feet. If the big city wasn’t what drove her, then she must have left because he’d failed her somehow. “You fit in here,” he said instead. “But La Mesa and Turkey Creek are a far cry from life in New York City.”

“I love it here!”

“Do you?” Mack’s heart sped up, even as he was bombarded with snippets of another time, when, during their college breaks, they’d stolen away to the creek to make love under a canopy of stars. At one point as they kissed, she’d leaned back and declared,
I love it here.
She’d followed up that statement with:
I love you, too, and I always will.

Erma said, “Wasting a whole day driving me to Lubbock’ll ruin your plan to go with Jill and get photos of you with the herd, Mackenzie.”

“Don’t worry, Erma,” Jill said. “The magazine will love a close-up of Mack with one horse and another with the single cow and her calf. I wanted to impress readers with the size of his herd, but...”

“Why would readers of a women’s magazine care about the size of my herd?”

Jill shot him an expression as if he’d sprouted two heads. “Readers care about that kind of detail. But my article will cover what you do as a rancher—the number of acres you own and how much land you lease for grazing. I can also say how many head of cattle you generally run each year.”

Mack shifted the clothes he held. “We still have a couple of days before you leave. We could ride out to my summer range midweek. And you said your article will include my charity work. My first meeting with the steak-fry committee chairs is coming up. You can come along if you’d like.”

“I’d love to. It’ll be great for the article. And when we’re in Lubbock, I’d like to go to a photography shop for good photo paper and frames. Zoey wants copies of the pictures I took and I know she wants to frame at least one. Barring any other unforeseen disasters like we had today, there’s no reason I can’t wind everything up and still find time to get her pictures ready.”

Mack didn’t want to think about Jill leaving. With her here, he was reminded of so many things he missed about her. She could fill the lonely times in his life—if he could trust her. But the last thing he needed was to get involved with her again. She’d ripped out his heart before, and she wasn’t thinking like him now. She seemed anxious to leave, with all her focus on photography.

“Speaking of pictures, those wooden frames you’re holding are heavy,” he said, suddenly ready to be on his way and have her be on hers.

Above them a door crashed open and Zoey burst out of her room. She hung over the banister. “Are you two still holding all the junk we brought out of the pickup?”

“We’ve been talking,” Mack said.

“About what? I put away everything I took up to my room.”

“Scheduling,” Jill said. “Like the trip to Lubbock.”

Zoey brightened and skipped down the stairs. “So, Daddy, can J.J.
please
take me shopping for some school clothes? I only have a half day at school tomorrow and then I’m out till seventh grade.”

Mack sucked in a breath. “Jill mentioned going to a special store to buy paper to print your photos. And she said you wanted frames. They have those at the general store, you know. How do you know what size you need for a photo you haven’t even seen? And what if none Jill took are good?”

“Daddy!” Zoey sounded annoyed. “J.J. is world-famous. Of course they’ll be good.”

“Excuse me.” Now he answered in a tone that was dust dry. “I forgot we’ve been graced by such a grand and exalted photographer.”

“World-famous,” Zoey repeated.

Jill flushed. “Knock it off. We were having a civilized conversation for a change. Maybe you’d like to tell me what about my work needles you, Mack. As I recall, you used to be proud of me. Well, of my skill as a photographer, I mean.”

Mack saw Zoey’s head swivel between him and Jill. She was far too interested in the exchange—as was Erma. He was only too aware of how attached they’d both gotten to Jill in a few short days. Since Jill dropped into their lives, it was clear that from Zoey’s perspective Jill could give the kind of attention his daughter craved. He knew from experience the pain that followed when Jill walked away, cutting off the warmth and love she so freely lavished.

“Zoey, help Jill hang the pictures in the hall. I’m taking these things to my room and then I’ll find Benny and make sure that there are no hot spots left along the fire line before it gets dark.”

He disappeared so fast, J.J. had to blink. She handed Zoey two old photo albums to put on the shelf in the living room, then rehung the wedding photos of Mack’s family in their proper order along the hall. She wished she had asked about the absence of his wedding pictures while he’d been in a good mood. Maybe their pictures had been terrible. Was that why he had it in for her occupation? She’d known wedding disasters to happen. Not to her, but a few times she’d been asked to salvage botched takes of the most important event in a couple’s life. Did that describe Mack’s wedding? Botched?

No, that was mean. Just because she and Mack had planned to have their simple wedding right here at the ranch didn’t give her the right to think badly of the wedding he’d had with Faith instead. So often she’d imagined herself walking down—no, floating down—that lovely old staircase. But she had planned to float down in the beautiful, long gown she’d bought after he proposed—and straight into Mack’s arms. Her mother, at her authorization, had sold that gown in a garage sale after Rex died. J.J. would have never worn the dress to marry anyone but Mack.

J.J. straightened the frame that held the photo of Mack’s mom and dad. He was blessed with a lot of his mother’s fine features. Scanning the other photos, J.J. saw bits of Mack in all of them. But nothing of Zoey. The shape of her face, the color of her hair and eyes were...different. Obviously Faith’s family genes had overridden the Bannermans’ most prominent hallmarks. Shrugging, she turned to Erma, who was waiting in the hall. “Okay, let’s go see what we can throw together for the evening meal.”

Chapter Nine

Tuesday morning, a hot sun splashed across the shiny ribbon of asphalt that led to Lubbock, and heat devils shimmered above dry cotton fields that flanked the highway. Mack and Erma sat in the front of the pickup. Before they left the ranch Erma tried to get Jill to sit up front. She refused politely, instead sharing the backseat with Zoey, who filled the cab with chatter. “I wish Brandy could have come today, but she’s helping her mom at the produce stand. J.J., do you think any of the mall stores will have a jacket like the one you let me wear for my photographs?”

Her dad broke in, “Zoey, why don’t you call her Jill? It’s her name. And it sounds a lot prettier.”

She made a face at him in his mirror. “J.J. is different. Classier,” Zoey went on as if her dad hadn’t chided her. “Do you think I can find a hat kinda like yours? It’s so cool. Brandy said hats are totally in right now, and everyone will be wearing them when school starts. Do you want me to call you, Jill? You introduced yourself to Brandy and me as J.J. We think using initials is way...chic.”

“Zoey!” This time there was no mistaking the firmness in Mack’s warning.

J.J. laughed. “It’s okay, Mack. I answer to either. A dozen years ago when I started shopping my portfolio around, going by initials was in vogue and a lot of women did it.”

“When I was little,” Erma said, “most women could only be teachers or nurses if they wanted a career. A handful became doctors or lawyers. They didn’t have it easy, because those jobs were considered men’s domain. Careers for women are wide-open today.”

“Yep,” Zoey said. “My teachers say girls can have any career we choose. Some even want us to know what we want to be right now! How can we? Brandy changes her mind a lot, and gosh, college is a long way off.”

J.J. smiled at Zoey. “It’s good you’re planning on college.”

“I have to. My dad set me up a college fund at Texas Tech.”

“Ah, a prepaid tuition plan. That’s smart. But you don’t sound too happy,” J.J. said, catching and holding Mack’s gaze for a moment in his rearview mirror.

“Brandy said maybe I’ll want to go to some other college. She wants to go to the university her mom and dad went to in Utah. And we kinda want to go together.”

Mack glanced back at her. “Tell Brandy you’ll graduate without college debt hanging over your head. I started this 529 fund when you were five, Zoey. I locked in the rate of tuition for that year. Do you have any idea how much tuition climbs each year?”

She shook her head.

“A lot,” J.J. said. “Believe me, you’ll appreciate your father’s foresight when your friends are saddled with debt. I had scholarships and a discount because my stepdad taught at Tech. But I had to borrow to pay room and board in Paris for my postgraduate work. It was pricy and I only paid off my loans a couple of years ago.”

Zoey propped her elbows on her knees and set her chin in her hands. “All I’m thinking about now is getting through junior high.”

The three adults in the vehicle burst out laughing. Mack winked at J.J., and for a split second his gaze in the mirror settled on her mouth. She was surprised by the sudden heat that rose inside her. Like old times she felt drawn to him. Then a gust of wind kicked up dust across the highway, and Mack returned his attention to the road.

But J.J. knew he’d felt it, too, by the way he cleared his throat and the catch in his voice. “What time is your mom expecting you, Jilly?”

Jilly.
That gave her goose bumps. “I didn’t set a time. I figured we’d see how long they think Erma will be at her appointment. Then I’ll take a cab to the retirement center.”

“Take a cab?” Mack drawled. “This is Lubbock, remember. Don’t they only have cabs at the airport?”

“How long since you’ve been up here?” J.J. asked. “Lubbock’s grown. They even have great internet and digital cell service now.”

“I’ll be a while,” Erma said. “I have to see the orthopedic doctor and have X-rays. The nurse said the doctor wants me to wait while he has someone read the films, since we’re from out of town.”

Mack checked his watch. “Your appointment’s at nine. You’ll probably be tied up until lunch at least. Jill, are you going for a quick visit or spending the day with Bonnie? Zoey and I can drive you there and wait.”

“Don’t be silly. Come in with me and say hello. I wasn’t planning to stay long. For one thing she hasn’t jumped for joy at the prospect of seeing me this visit. When I came to help her move she was so depressed and needy. I should be glad she’s gotten active, but...” Her voice trailed off, and she found Mack studying her again in the mirror. Mack Bannerman had the most expressive eyes of any person J.J. had ever met—and she worked with models who used every asset to express emotion to her camera. But his gaze now made her feel compelled to add, “I’m happy for her, though. Her world used to revolve around Rex.”

“True,” Mack agreed. “And I shouldn’t pass judgment even though your mother was never a fan of me. I didn’t know either of your folks that well.”

“She didn’t like you because you were in my corner and didn’t bend over backward for her.”

Back then, things had been especially volatile between her and her mother. In fact, J.J. had met Mack the very day she’d learned Rex wasn’t her real dad. It came to light when she was signing up for classes. Rex had gotten her a special reduced tuition rate afforded to children of employees, but on the form he noted that he’d never adopted her. Terribly upset, she had confronted her mom, who confessed J.J.’s biological dad had been an alcoholic who had died a few years before in prison where he was serving time for negligent homicide. J.J. felt duped—deceived—despite the fact that Rex had been a good father. They had lied to her. Bonnie refused to admit she’d done anything wrong. J.J. went crying back to college and met Mack in the parking lot. He heard her sobbing her heart out and came to see if she needed rescuing.

Four years later he betrayed her with Faith. That betrayal drilled the same kind of hole in her heart as her mother’s lie had. Returning to Lubbock now with Mack, preparing to visit her mom, sent J.J. cartwheeling back into dark reflections of those painful times. Very probably Mack knew, because he shifted his eyes away from her, and even adjusted the rearview mirror.

They reached the clinic, where Erma’s doctor and radiologist both practiced. “I’ll go in with Erma and see what’s what. Are you two okay waiting out here?” Mack asked J.J. and Zoey.

“I’m good,” Zoey said. “But I can’t wait to go to the mall.”

“Don’t get too anxious. It’ll be this afternoon, and only then if Erma feels up to sitting around in the food court with me while you and Jill visit a couple of stores.”

“A couple?” Zoey unfastened her seat belt and slid to the edge of her seat. “Daddy, shopping can’t be rushed. Can’t you leave us at the mall and you guys go do something else?”

“Like what?” Mack asked. “We came to Lubbock today for Erma’s appointments. Depending on if they hurt her too much with their poking and prodding, she may want to go straight home.”

Zoey flopped back in her seat. “Then can J.J. bring me here again before she goes back to New York? Maybe Brandy can come, too.” Leaning forward, she looked more hopeful.

Her dad, who’d taken Erma’s wheelchair out of the pickup bed, spoke to Zoey this time through Erma’s open door. “By the way, last night Benny confirmed that his cousin Sonja will arrive today. I thought maybe tomorrow I’d take Jill and ride out to the summer pasture. It
is
why she’s here, Zoey.”

“Bro...ther!” Zoey slumped again.

“Mackenzie, you need to give them some time to shop,” Erma said as he helped her out of the truck. “I’ll take a pain pill if need be.”

“Oh, right.” Mack huffed out a harsh breath. “We’ve all seen how fast those painkillers knock you out. How long does it take for Zoey to buy jeans and a few shirts?”

Erma remained firm. “I’ll be fine. Haven’t you been listening? Zoey wants Jill to help her pick out something other than her usual clothes.” Erma said something else, but Mack shut the door, cutting off whatever she added.

“You should have asked Dad for his keys, J.J. We could go to the mall right now. You heard him, right? He still expects me to dress like a cowboy.”

“The mall doesn’t open until ten. Relax, Zoey. Why don’t you make a list of top priority items? I’m sure your dad will let you buy a nice skirt or two, and feminine tops. If we can carve out an hour and go straight to the departments on your list, I know we can choose a few nice pieces for your fall wardrobe. Remember, though, most of the stores will have just stocked their summery things.”

“Oh, bummer. I want a jacket like yours, and a hat.”

“It still helps to make a list, and even note colors to mix and match. That way you don’t get distracted by pretty things that won’t go with anything else in your wardrobe.”

“Great idea! I’ve never done anything like that. Neither has Brandy, I bet, ’cause she gets her mom to take stuff back all the time. Oh, if only you could come back before school starts. Better yet, don’t go back to New York.”

“You know that’s not possible, Zoey. But maybe we can keep in touch. If you have questions about clothes you can ask me.”

The girl looked glum. “My dad’s strict about me using his computer. He’s a worrywart, afraid for what he hears about kids on social media. I at least want a cell phone. I doubt I’ll get one. Brandy thinks she’ll get one for her birthday. It’s before school starts. Maybe she’ll let me text you. Do you text?”

J.J. nodded. “Here comes your dad. That didn’t take long.”

He opened the driver’s door and stuck his head in. “Jill, can you program your cell number into my phone? I’ll leave it with Erma, then we can go. If we stop by your mom’s and then head to the mall, you and Zoey can get your shopping done. Erma will call you if she finishes early. The receptionist guessed it’ll be until twelve or twelve-thirty. If you two are shopped out by then we can pick Erma up and eat on the way out of town.”

“Daddy, I love you, but I’ll never be shopped out.” Zoey’s laughter mingled with J.J.’s.

“Wrong,” he said, taking his phone back from J.J. “If I give you cash instead of handing over my debit card I can curtail your time.”

Zoey’s face fell.

Grinning, Mack left after giving J.J. a conspiratorial wink that again made her heart squeeze. Her cell phone chimed and she almost dropped it. Startled, she answered without checking who was calling. “Hello?”

Mack’s deep voice shook her further, but he only said, “Just checking to make sure Erma can reach you.”

“You think I’d program in a phony number? Sheesh!” She hung up, and seconds later Mack came out of the building and strode to the pickup, whistling.

“You two aren’t gonna make me chauffeur, are you?”

“J.J., you sit up front.” Zoey nudged her.

“Why me? It’s you who needs to butter him up for your trip to the mall.”

“Jill, come on up here,” Mack said, revving the engine. “I need you to direct me to your mom’s new place.”

She climbed out, buckled into Erma’s spot, then rattled off the directions.

Mack said, “Whoa. Whoa. I don’t know the streets of Lubbock as well as you do.”

“Sorry.” She spoke slower and gave specific streets. “This is it,” she said a short while later, directing Mack to park in an area marked for visitors. “Nine-twenty,” she murmured. “I hope we catch Mom before she’s off to Tai Chi or something.”

“Sure you want us to tag along?” Mack swept a glance over the resortlike complex. “Should you call and warn her you’re barging in with other people?”

Zoey had already jumped out and slammed her door. “You said we didn’t have to stay long, right?”

“We’ll say hi, and ask if Mom wants to come with us to the mall. My mother is the queen of marathon shopping.”

Mack locked the truck and followed Jill and Zoey down a walkway that led past an elaborate fountain. “Nice place,” he said.

“It is. Mom’s unit is there between the rec center and across from one of the two pools.” She stopped in front of one of the many red-orange doors, took a deep breath and rapped soundly.

They heard a chair scrape across the floor, then the door swung inward. J.J.’s mother peered out, put a hand to her chest and said Jill’s name twice, followed by, “Oh, my, I expected you to call before coming, dear. And who’s this?” Bonnie Walker frowned at the girl glued to J.J.’s shoulder.

“Zoey Bannerman, Mackenzie’s daughter. You remember Mack?” J.J. asked, indicating the looming presence behind her.

Her mother had on a brightly colored caftan. Red painted toenails peeked out from open-toed sandals. Her blond hair was swept back behind an ear from which dangled a large, gold hoop earring that she twisted nervously. J.J. soon understood her mom’s agitation when a big, half-naked man stepped up behind Bonnie.

“Hello,” he said, gesturing with a steaming coffee mug. “Did I hear Bonnie call you Jill? Nice to meet you.” To Bonnie, he said, “Should I give you all your privacy?” He placed the coffee in Bonnie’s hand and wrapped her other around the mug to hold it steady.

Bonnie Walker’s mouth opened and closed, but it was J.J. who spoke. “We, uh, are headed to the mall to shop for Zoey, and thought you might like to join us.” She cleared her throat. “I did mention that I wanted to drop by today when I called you last night. I said we were bringing Erma Fairweather to see a doctor here.”

Bonnie gave her daughter the stink eye. “I’m positive you never mentioned that your business trip had anything to do with getting back together with your old college flame.”

J.J. scrubbed two fingers between furrowed eyebrows. “I probably didn’t tell you because you were always in a rush to get off the phone. Mack actually is the job. It’s too involved to go into now, but I’m photographing him at his ranch for the magazine. Listen, Zoey is anxious to get to the mall. I’m in La Mesa until Sunday. I’ll phone before I leave. Perhaps we can meet at the airport.” J.J. began backing away and stepped squarely on Mack’s boot.

He steadied her. “Bonnie,” he said, giving a curt nod. “You don’t look a day older than when last we met... What was it? Some fourteen years ago?” He smiled at Bonnie’s gentleman friend, who stuck close to her. “Sorry, we didn’t catch your name,” Mack said, holding out a hand to shake.