“You should support me. I’m taking a stand for what’s right. How is that so terrible?”
“You’re trying to tell her how to live.”
“She’s my daughter!”
“She’s twenty-five.”
“And she wouldn’t be in the situation she’s in now if she’d listened to me!”
Barb’s lips pursed in disapproval. Obviously she had more to say but was trying to hold back.
Tami considered leaving before they ended up in an argument. But the second thoughts she’d been experiencing had poked too many holes in her resolve. Shoving the quilting books aside, she leaned forward. “Go ahead and say what’s on your mind, Barb.”
Barb hesitated for several seconds, but finally nodded. “Okay, I’m wondering where you think this is going to lead.”
“What do you mean?”
“What good can come out of the stand you’ve taken?”
“Maybe Katie will listen to us next time.”
“Next time? Hard as this may be to hear, Tami, your role in her life has changed. You need to support her in a different way now that she’s older.”
“That’s easy for you to say! You’re not coping with a daughter who’s made a mess of her life and you’re not fighting to get a fourteen-year-old turned around. Your boys are all grown up and doing great.”
Barb stopped straightening up for a moment. “We’ve had our rough spots, you know that better than anyone. Both my boys were a handful growing up. And I thought I’d die when Josh decided to marry Rebecca. But I wanted a relationship with my future grandchildren, so I had to trust that he knew what he was doing. And I’m glad I did. Rebecca’s a good woman. I wouldn’t trade her as a daughter-in-law.”
“So you think I should forget about the fact that Katie’s having a baby out of wedlock and welcome her back with open arms?”
Barb sighed. “I’m saying we all make mistakes. Sometimes we have to give the people we love a hand—and a little extra room to figure out life’s lessons on their own.”
Tami pictured Katie standing on her doorstep in the rain. At the time, Tami had been so disappointed, so angry. She’d told herself she was doing the right thing when she turned Katie away. But was she really?
THE NIGHT STRETCHED before Booker, quiet and lonely. He was too exhausted to head back to the shop, but he couldn’t sleep, either. He did some chores around the house, missing Hatty in a way he hadn’t missed her in months. He’d changed his life, knew his grandmother would be proud of him. But he was still restless. Maybe he always would be. Maybe it was just his nature.
Unable to think of anything else to do, he watched TV for a half hour before climbing the stairs for bed. Delbert had turned in several hours earlier, but Bruiser nosed Delbert’s door open when Booker reached the hall and followed him to the entrance of Katie’s room.
Squatting to pat the dog’s head, Booker gazed at the empty bed and empty dresser. Empty seemed to describe the whole house these days.
“See that? We’re finally rid of her. Life can get back to normal now, huh, boy?” he muttered.
Bruiser cocked his head and gave him a pitying look that made Booker laugh. “God, even you.” He stood to leave, but something peeking out from under the bed caught his eye.
Moving closer, he realized it was the spine of a book. Evidently Katie had forgotten something. He expected it to be one of the computer manuals she’d studied so religiously, but when he pulled it out, he saw that it was a library book about babies.
“What do you think?” he asked Bruiser, showing the dog the picture of the newborn on the cover.
Bruiser yawned, obviously not impressed. Booker, on the other hand, was curious. He sat on the bed and thumbed through page after page of pictures, some of pregnant mothers, some of the birth process. But the photographs and diagrams that fascinated him most were of the developing baby. Katie was seven months along. According to the book, a seven-month-old fetus weighed about three pounds and could open and close his eyes. His brain was developing quickly, he was aware and led an active emotional life. It said he could even learn things and recognize his mother’s voice.
Booker had never dreamed a seven-month fetus was so developed. He’d never even thought about it. Becoming a parent hadn’t been high on his agenda. But that seemed to be changing. He remembered putting his hands on Katie’s belly and enjoying the contact, feeling almost as if he was part of a circle that included her and her baby. Which was crazy, of course. He wasn’t part of anything.
“To hell with it.” Scowling, he snapped the book shut. He was just getting up to go to his own room when the telephone rang. A glance at his watch told him it was nearly two o’clock. Who would be calling at this time of night?
He reached the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”
“I saw Delbert in town earlier.”
The caller had a raspy, muffled voice, so muffled it was hardly discernible.
“What?” Booker said.
“You might not want to let your little retard ramble around on his own anymore, Booker. Poor thing might get hurt again.”
“Who the hell is this?”
A raucous laugh. “Wouldn’t you love to know.”
“Jon, if this is you, you’re an even bigger son of a bitch than I thought.”
“Careful, Booker. You might be in for a surprise.”
“Meet me now, at the park in town,” Booker said. “We’ll see who’s going to get a surprise.
Another laugh. “You aimin’ to land yourself back in jail?”
“I’m aiming to take your head off if you so much as look at Delbert the wrong way.”
“Tsk, tsk. Such temper. Those anger management classes might do you some good. They’ve done wonders for me. Can’t you tell?” More laughter echoed in Booker’s ears, then the line went dead.
Booker stared at the phone, breathing hard. It was Jon Small. It had to be. Dragging out the phone book, he looked up Jon’s number and dialed. A sleepy female voice answered.
“Is Jon there?”
“Who is this?”
“Booker Robinson.”
“What are you doing calling here so late, Booker? If you don’t leave my husband alone, we’re going to get a restraining order.”
“Just let me talk to Jon.”
A long pause. “He’s not home.”
“Where is he?”