by Elsie Davis
Becky breathed a sigh of relief, her smile genuine. “Then enjoy your lunch. And let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.” She turned to walk away.
“There is one thing,” he said.
She stopped and turned back, a questioning look on her face.
“The place seems to be clearing out, and if you get a few minutes, maybe you’d like to join me. Save a guy from having to eat alone with no one to talk to.” Totally out of character for him to request such a thing, but also totally something he couldn’t resist asking, her open friendliness calling to him, making him want to know more.
“I’m sure that’s not a problem you have regularly.” She winked, her teasing taking him by surprise.
“You said to let you know, so that’s what I’m doing.” Her comment left him wondering if he wasn’t the only one interested in getting to know her more.
“Haha, funny guy. I’ll see what I can do, but don’t hold your breath.” She turned and sashayed away, and Steve admired the gentle sway of her hips.
Becky had a winning smile for every customer she waited on. It was only when he noticed a young girl enter the restaurant that her smile slipped. Which made no sense at all, since the girl was the spitting image of Becky. His guess would be a younger sister.
The two talked, Becky shaking her head at whatever the girl was trying to tell her. Minutes later, he noticed Becky pulling her tips from the pocket of her apron, counting out the dollars one by one, and then handing them to the girl. There was something about the stilted action that made him stop and wonder more about his server. Her entire demeanor had changed in a split second, the lines of stress evident on her face. There was a story, but not one she’d likely share with him. He’d do well to mind his own business, only do what he came to town for, and get back to Houston.
It wasn’t like he didn’t have enough to do already, the pressures of the campaign heating up and taking more and more of his time. He loved law, but the public scrutiny of his life—not so much. And regarding his campaign manager’s strong suggestion he find a “love at first sight” romance and a bride to improve his poll ratings, well, that simply went too far. Not only did he never want to marry, but add to that the issue of finding a woman to fit the bill, and the entire idea became ludicrous.
Steve could only hope his popularity went up on its own, based more on his record than his marital status. Harry had practically shoved him out of the office, claiming he needed to spend less time in there and more time out with people. What he preferred was to be left alone to do his job to the best of his abilities.
His own personal crusade against dead-beat dads, or DBDs as he called them, was proof of the success he found from the dedication to his job. It was just one of many areas he targeted and what he wanted the constituents to think about when they went to the polls.
When the most recent complaint from the Cattleman’s Association had landed on his desk for review, Steve had made it a priority to do some behind-the-scenes poking around. The lead investigator’s request for him to talk to the judge about it gave Steve the perfect cover to investigate the charge of unfair practices being used to foreclose on local ranchers’ and farmers’ properties. Coincidence or not, he wasn’t sure, but the proposed changes to existing laws would make it difficult for the ranchers in Texas to get access to water rights during times of drought.
The whole situation reeked of political interference and big business opportunities, and where corruption could be found, his own father, Tumble County’s judge, wouldn’t be far away. Never quite doing anything illegal, but typically right in the thick of it.
Figuring out what was going on and putting an end to it would go a long way toward improving his public image. But it was more than that for Steve. The two-year drought had been tough on people across Texas, and the idea that someone or some entity was trying to take unfair advantage rankled him.
As the potential future district attorney, it was his job to protect them.
Becky returned to his table to check on him, her smile and positive attitude firmly back in place. She was a true professional, completely able to separate personal things from business. “Is everything okay?” She placed his bill face-down on the table.
“Other than the fact you’re too busy and don’t have time to sit and chat, I’m good.” He winked.
“Oh…” Her brow wrinkled. “I didn’t think you were serious.”
“Dead serious. How else am I supposed to ask you to have lunch with me?”
“Now, I know you’re joking. Having fun at my expense.” She shook her head and frowned.
“No, I’m very serious. I’m only in town a few days and would love the chance to get to know you more.” It was the truth, shocking even himself, but true.
“Why? Big city slicker like you. I can’t imagine you’d want to take out a country mouse.”
“You’re far from being a country mouse, trust me. Give me ten minutes of your time to get to know me and then you can make a decision. No pressure. I’ll even buy you lunch, seeing as I’m partly responsible you didn’t get to eat yours.”
“I think I can handle that. I’m not against a free meal—just relationships,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “Let me see if I can get Katie to cover my customers for a few minutes and I’ll be back.”
She packed a lot of information in one small sentence. He was relieved to hear she wasn’t into relationships, because that certainly wasn’t what he was after, either. There was no place in his life for things like that. It made the two of them all the more a good match for a simple date, something to pass an evening away while in town.
Steve was pleased when she returned with a burger and fries and then slid into the booth seat across from him.
She sat down and took a bite of her burger, not at all shy about eating in front of him.
“Was that your sister I saw you talking to earlier?” Family was always a good place to start.
“Pretty observant of you. I wasn’t aware you were watching. But yes, that was my younger sister, Julia. She had big ideas of joining her friends at the soda shop down the street, another place you should try out while you’re in town. They have awesome banana splits, with a scoop of strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate ice cream, all drizzled with pineapple and chocolate and strawberry sauce, and then topped with whipped cream and nuts. I’m craving it now just talking about them. I haven’t had one in forever.”
“Well, there you have it.” Steve leaned back, positive she’d just given him his ticket to a date.
“Have what?”
“The answer to you saying yes. I’ll treat you to a banana split.” He grinned. “How non-relationship is that? Just two friends sharing dessert.”
“And when did we become friends?” Her grin took the edge off the words.
“I’m thinking it started right about the time you smashed into me with your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” He chuckled, knowing he had her.
“Indeed.” She smiled. “So, what do you do, Peanut Butter Man?”
“I’m an attorney.”
“Oh, good grief. No wonder you’re into details. Are you in town for any particular purpose? Are you handling a case for someone locally?” Becky leaned forward, her interest appearing genuine.
“Now who’s looking for details?” he teased. “But the simple answer to your question is no, I’m not handling a case. I’m just here checking out a few things.” It was more than he should have said, but he wouldn’t lie.
“Like?” She pressed for more.
“I’d rather not say. Word travels fast in a small town.”
“True.” Becky shifted in her seat, her gaze focused on the french fries she was pushing around on her plate haphazardly with a fork. Stopping, she looked up at him. “Since you don’t want to talk about what you’re doing in town, then maybe you can answer a differ
ent question. A law question.”
The earlier smile had slipped from her face, Becky turning serious on him. The sudden change in her demeanor caught him by surprise.
“Ask away. Feel free to pick my brain, as long as it’s not related to any case I’m working on, and I’ll be happy to answer.”
“It’s for a friend of mine. But she’s having trouble with her—her child’s father.” Becky tripped over the words, a clear indicator she likely was talking about herself.
He leaned forward, encouraging her to confide, and Steve found himself wanting to help her in any way he could. “Go on.”
“Well, I was just wondering how the law looked at a parent who was never around and then suddenly pops up wanting custody. Would a court ever side with an absentee parent like that?” Becky’s intensity as she asked the question confirmed his suspicions—she was talking about something far more personal than a friend’s problems.
Perhaps her sister’s father was back in town and making trouble? There was no clear-cut answer because the details would make a case either for or against the allegations and request, but he could give her the generalities. Anything to help put her at ease.
“In general, the absentee parent might be able to prove a good reason they were absent and gain visitation, but it would be rare to gain full custody unless they could prove they were never told about the child. More so if that person could prove the current custodial parent was not a good parent.”
“But it is still possible?”
“Possible, but not probable. Not generally speaking. The other thing that can happen is a paternity test to prove parentage and, with that, an order for child support to help your friend financially. Children are expensive.” The look of relief on her face was clear. Whether about the person getting custody or the part about child support, he wasn’t sure.
“Tell me about it.” Becky’s gaze drifted off to watch another table. Her slip was more revealing than she knew.
She looked back at him. “But thanks. I feel better—for my friend, that is.” She leaned back in the booth, the tension ebbing from her shoulders as she took a deep breath. “I probably should get back to work. And to answer your question, yes, I’ll join you for a banana split. Is tomorrow okay? Around two?”
It would give him a chance to do some poking around first, which was why he was in town in the first place. “Two o’clock is perfect.”
Becky slid out of the booth then turned back to him. “Thanks for the advice. Keep the tip and count it as payment for the information. You can settle up at the register.”
“Thanks for saying yes, Becky.” Steve realized he meant it. He was looking forward to seeing her again tomorrow. He was also glad she hadn’t recognized him as a Parker, and he’d done all he could not to name drop, preferring she didn’t make the connection. Not yet, anyway. He was guessing she was at least seven or eight years younger than him, which explained why they’d never crossed paths when he was in school.
Over ice cream, he’d tell her, but by then, he hoped to secure her acceptance of a dinner invitation. He watched as another customer checked out at the register and then proceeded to stuff change in a jar on the counter. Becky’s smile was genuine and appreciative.
She had no way of knowing Steve’s focused efforts on DBDs or the personal reason he’d made them a priority. His childhood friend Winston and his family didn’t have an advocate when they needed one, and since getting into law, Steve had worked to change the system. His goal was to provide more assistance to the single mothers left with the responsibility of raising a child on their own.
Steve had tried to make things better for Winston, but he’d failed. Or, rather, the system had failed, and his father had even taken a part in the devastation to the Roberts family. Steve rubbed his forefinger across the scar above his right eye, the one he got protecting Winston from a bully.
He never saw Winston again after social services stepped in and put him in foster care, claiming the mother was unfit to care for her two children. Even then, Steve recognized the power the Judge held. What stung worse was that his father had sided with the bully’s parents, taking their word over Steve’s.
Steve vowed back then that one day he’d have that power but that he’d use it for good.
He stood to leave, tossing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. Maybe Becky’s sister could get an ice cream, too.
The other server rang up his bill, and he paid with cash. He glanced down at the plastic jar next to the register to see who needed help. To his surprise, it was a picture of Becky taped to the front. Becky and a young boy with the caption “Byron needs your help.” Her son?
Now, more than ever, he knew the questions she’d asked were for herself, not a friend. She had a son, and by the looks of it, her son had a DBD. She was worried about the jerk stepping in and taking custody from her. Steve glanced around, noticing Becky on the other side of the restaurant. He opened his wallet and pulled another hundred out then stuffed it into the jar.
Chapter Three
Becky spent the early morning trying to clean up the small house she and her family lived in, using the time Byron slept to her advantage. The house was old and run down, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t do their best to make it look nice inside. Outside was another story. But it wasn’t their house, and she and her mom couldn’t afford the paint, much less pay someone to paint it. Or have it landscaped. Or fix any of the number of things that needed fixing.
Folks from their church had come over once before to chip in and help clean up the yard, but time had a way of erasing their gracious efforts. And the homeowner had made it clear they didn’t have the money to fix the place up, reminding her often they’d rented the house “as is” if Becky asked for anything to be done. She was grateful they had a roof over their heads, though. Even if it did leak at times.
“Julia,” Becky said to her sister, “Mom just left for your parent-teacher conference this morning, and I’ve got to run an errand. Can you watch Byron, since you don’t have school today?” Her mother’s absence from work at the mansion, where she was part of the house staff, was exactly the window of opportunity Becky needed to visit the place. The last thing she wanted to do was raise her mother’s suspicions regarding the up until now unknown identity of Byron’s father. Not even Kayla, her best friend, knew the truth.
“Sure, I can watch him. When’s the little bug going to wake up?” Julia laughed.
“Soon. I should be back within the hour. Thanks.” Becky had gone over every possibility, but seeing no other option, she decided she had to talk to Jack. Beg him to help pay for his son’s surgery. Steve’s advice gave her the confidence she needed. The NFL wannabe’s threats against her mother were a definite consideration still, but the threat of losing Byron to Jack’s powerful parents was infinitely worse. Becky knew she’d been a good mother, and for her son’s sake, she was willing to risk Jack’s anger by approaching him to ask for the money.
At this point, the worst he could do was say no. It wasn’t like she was revealing his identity to anyone—she just needed his money. And it was only right that he help, anyway.
“Just make sure he eats his breakfast and brushes his teeth. And if you go out back to play, make sure he’s got a warm enough sweater on. It’s a little cool this morning.”
“Just go, will you? I’m sixteen, not eleven. I know how to take care of Byron.”
“Okay. You’re right.” It was hard to believe her little sister was so grown up. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be graduating high school. And, with any luck, off to college. Her whole life was ahead of her, and the last thing she wanted Julia to do was mess it up the way Becky had. Julia was just starting to get the boy craze, and Becky had vowed to keep a close eye on her.
She grabbed her purse and headed out the door, trying to calm her nerves, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. As she drove toward the P
arker mansion, her fingers gripped the steering wheel, and she played out what she would say to Jack. But asking an absentee dad for money wasn’t an easy thing to put into words, knowing every one had to count. Failure wasn’t an option. Somehow, she had to appeal to his sense of decency, if there was any in him.
Her thoughts drifted to Steve. Yes, he’d helped her, but then he’d also managed to completely confuse her. He seemed friendly enough, and Becky didn’t have a lot of time for friends. She didn’t normally respond to customers flirting, but it had helped her to focus on something other than Byron’s surgery and the absurd amount of money it cost. Customers generally weren’t interested in her personal woes, and anything less than a positive attitude at work usually meant lower tips. But the opportunity for free legal advice wasn’t one that would fall into her lap again. She couldn’t just let it go.
His invitation to take her for ice cream had come as a surprise and, as it turned out, was a treat she couldn’t resist. At the time, accepting his offer seemed like a great idea. A no-strings-attached ice cream date. Something completely innocent. But then he’d gone and left her an oversize tip. Twice.
The whole town knew about her situation, well-meaning folk all too quick to set up fundraisers to help. For some reason, though, the fact Steve knew of her troubles bothered her. Especially since he’d tossed his money around like it was nothing. Just like Jack and the rest of the Parker family. Not that she wasn’t grateful for Steve’s money, but she had zero interest in money-driven people. She wasn’t sure what to think of their upcoming date anymore. How could she even look at him now without seeing dollar signs?
Becky drove through town, and it wasn’t long before she was on the outskirts of Riverbend. She turned into the Parkers’ driveway, passing through the open wrought-iron gate and followed the paved road to their mansion, stopping in front. Her old rusty Toyota looked severely out of place, but she didn’t work for the wealthy family and had no intention of parking in the back like she was one of the employees.
