The Family Gathering

by Robyn Carr

  “It’s well-known that some lucky bastard will always rise out of poverty and ignorance and, in spite of hard times, make something of himself...”

  “I know this,” Sully said. “A kid here, a kid there, escapes a poor, uneducated family and makes good. But the Jones clan? Near as I can tell—there were four of you and all four of you not only survived, but excelled.”

  “Dumb luck, I guess,” Dakota said.

  “There was some nurturing there,” Sully said. “Your mother, maybe your father on his better days, each other. Somehow it happened. I couldn’t have done it.”

  Dakota laughed. “No, you couldn’t. Your daughter is Maggie!”

  “Oh, I don’t take any credit for Maggie,” Sully said. “Her mother and stepfather raised her. Maggie’s mother left me when she was just small, took her away. I had failed them, see. Not that Phoebe, my ex-wife, was any treasure, mind you. We’re cordial now on account of Maggie, but it’s no secret we’d sooner live on different planets. She’s a giant pain in the ass. Her husband, Walter, a gentleman to the bone, not only puts up with her, he puts up with her generously. He’s a saint.”

  Dakota chuckled. He’d heard from both Maggie and Cal that this Phoebe was annoying. “And you didn’t remarry?” he asked Sully.

  “Why tempt fate?” Sully said. “Proved the first time I had no judgment where women were concerned. I met her and married her in less time than it takes paint to dry. That’s a clue.”

  “But don’t you sometimes get...a little...lonely?”

  “Did I say I’d never crossed paths with a woman? Even this old man can tell you, sometimes just being around a woman makes certain things better. Don’t go telling Maggie I said that. She’ll try to picture it in her head and get all riled up. But I’ve been friendly with women over the years. It’s a wise man who knows his limitations, son. Remember that.”

  “I will,” Dakota said. But he couldn’t help but laugh.

  He vowed to remember that. But he continued to go to the bar for two or three dinners a week. When Sid saw him coming, she gave a half smile and shook her head. She realized he was relentless. He liked her. And he could tell one of the problems she was having right now was that she also liked him. Well, maybe he shouldn’t go that far. She enjoyed him. Whatever the husband had done must have been so devious she was afraid that lurking beneath the surface of every good guy was a monster. Why else was the idea of even a cup of coffee such a terrible notion?

  But Dakota was patient. He spent the month of April settling into the world of trash hauling. The first couple of weeks he hung on the side of the truck and picked up scattered refuse while a man named Lawrence drove and dumped the buckets. Lawrence was forty-seven but looked much older. His hair was going white; he had a wife and six kids. When he talked about his wife, everything came with an appreciative laugh and a headshake. “Ooh-wee, Benita made some of the best taco pie this man ever had!” Or, “Damn me, that woman got her fist on those boys o’ mine and they don’t dare talk back at their mama!” In short, Lawrence had a good, normal, happy life with all the usual problems. Dakota wanted to work with Lawrence forever. But he really wanted to drive. “You get to do that soon enough, boy,” Lawrence said.

  April was full of rain and flowers. Hauling trash in the rain was just the same but wetter. But as the days passed, Dakota thought Sid might be softening up toward him, just a little bit.

  The most extraordinary thing in the world

  is an ordinary man and an ordinary woman

  and their ordinary children.

  —GILBERT K. CHESTERTON

  4

  TOM CANADAY WAS a happy man in general, always upbeat and positive even when times were challenging. It was his nature. His father was the same way and his mother might fret sometimes but she was both hopeful and helpful. Lately his happiness had been elevated a notch or two. He had a good woman in his life.

  Tom had married his high school sweetheart when they were very young. They’d had four children, a handful for anyone. Zach, the youngest, was still in diapers when Becky left them and Tom became a single working father. Had his parents, brother and sister-in-law not helped from time to time, he never would have made it. Becky had moved out ten years ago now. Tom was the first to admit he’d had trouble moving on, but he was emotionally free now. There wasn’t a sliver of attachment to Becky left.

  About the time Tom cut the ties he noticed Lola. Really noticed her. He’d known her almost all their lives; they were both raised near Timberlake and attended the same schools. They’d both married and divorced while still young. They saw each other around town all the time. Lola worked full-time at Home Depot, where Tom bought a lot of building supplies, and she was also a part-time waitress at the diner, just part-time enough for him to stop in for the occasional cup of coffee.

  Tom had been getting a lot more pie and coffee the past six months than ever before.

  Tom had been courting her for over six months and for two single parents to find time for romance was beyond difficult. But every time he kissed her he wanted more. He found Lola to be the most beautiful of women. She was strong and independent, but her strength and independence had not made her bitter. She was kind and compassionate. When he was able to put his arms around her and smell her sweet skin, he became aroused. She filled his arms with softness and he loved holding her against him.

  But their schedules were impossible. They had to get by on what little time they could find here and there, maybe going to a home show or open house. They were both really into remodeling. In fact, they found they had many things in common. But they wanted to get alone together and just hadn’t found the opportunity.

  It was 10:00 a.m. on a Thursday morning when Tom Canaday knocked on Lola’s door. When she opened it, smiling broadly, he handed her a gift-wrapped box.

  “What is this?” she asked, taking it from him.

  “Open it,” he said.

  “Oh, Tom, you’re always so thoughtful,” she said, pulling the ribbon off. “Always thinking of others.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s me.”

  She pulled off the top of the box and frowned. “What’s this?”

  “You know what it is,” he said.

  She pulled the item out. “A dead bolt?” she asked in confusion.

  “For your bedroom door,” he said. “And I have a matching lock installed on my bedroom door.”

  “I don’t think either of the boys will surprise us today,” she said with a laugh. “They’re both in school.” Cole had college classes and Trace was in high school.

  “We’re not taking any chances.”

  “They never open my bedroom door, Tom,” she said. “They’re scared to death they might see me in my underwear!”

  “This is going to be different,” he said. “There will be no underwear. And they might hear noises and mistake it for you screaming in pain.” He grinned. “It won’t be pain.”

  She put down the box and put her hands on his cheeks, kissing him soundly. His arms went around her to pull her closer, moving over her mouth with precision. He parted her lips with his, going deep, groaning as their tongues began to play. His hand slid down over her butt and pressed her close against him. The kiss went on and on, too long, really. He had to force himself to pull away. “Lola, quick—get me your toolbox.”

  “You sure know how to woo a girl,” she said. She couldn’t help but giggle as she went to get the box. Having done a lot of her own repairs and renovating, she knew exactly what he’d need. By the time she got back he was already getting the lock out of the package. She immediately started handing him tools. First the screwdriver to remove the old doorknob, then the chisel and hammer to enlarge the opening in the jam. “I wish I’d gotten this done before the kissing,” he grumbled. “I gotta say, this is my first lock repair with a hard-on.”

  “Just how long has it been?” she
asked.

  “Oh, about two minutes now,” he said.

  “Not that!” she said with a laugh.

  “You mean since I’ve had sex with a woman?” He wanted to clarify.

  “Oh, my. Maybe we should talk about who else you might be having it with...”

  He looked at her over his shoulder, lifting one eyebrow. “My left hand,” he said. “Believe me, you have nothing to be jealous of.”

  “Tom,” she said in a scolding voice.

  “It’s been such a long time,” he said, drilling in the screws.

  She put down the toolbox where he could reach it and backed away from him. He grumbled a little bit at a stubborn screw but he made very fast work of the job. He closed the door, turned the lock and tested it, trying to open it. “Success!” he said.

  But he turned and she wasn’t there.

  “Lola?” he said.

  She stepped into the doorway of her master bath wearing a sleek and satiny black robe. It took his breath away. “Whoa,” he said, running a hand over the top of his head.

  Lola was so voluptuous. She wasn’t skinny or tiny. She was five-nine or so and full-figured. When they first started seeing each other she admitted she was self-conscious about her shape and considered herself overweight. Tom convinced her he loved her figure, loved her softness, loved that he could fall into her, fill his arms with her. She was full and rosy and smelled divine. He wanted to gobble her up from her dark, curly hair to her toes. “Holy God,” was all he could say. And he frantically began to tear off his clothes. At the last second, seeing her standing there in that lovely black robe, he left on his boxers. But before he’d gone to the hardware store to buy the privacy lock, he’d chosen them carefully. These were his best boxers.

  “God, you’re so beautiful,” he said. He lifted her chin to kiss her while his other hand untied her robe and let it fall open. “Oh my God,” he said.

  She rolled her shoulders back and the robe slid easily from her shoulders. And there she was, all pale flesh.

  They’d been together for six months, and while they hadn’t been able to make love yet they’d done a lot of touching and talking. They were prepared in every way except one—they hadn’t lain down together without clothes.

  “Why do you have these?” she said, giving the elastic of his boxers a snap.

  “Why bother taking them off?” he said, pulling her against him. “I’m going to blast right through them.”

  She pulled on his hand and they found the bed, lying down side by side, rolling together, holding on to each other, kissing like teenagers, their hands roving over each other’s bodies. Lola sighed, Tom moaned, lips were moving. He kissed her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. She stroked his butt, his thighs, and she managed to get rid of those boxers. Then he was on top, spreading her legs with a knee, moving closer and closer. He pushed forward and smiled against her lips. “I could embarrass myself here,” he said. “I’m wound a little tight.”

  She shook her head. “Let’s not worry about making it perfect, okay? We’ve had to wait so long.”

  “I know people who waited longer,” he said.

  “But we’re forty,” she reminded him. “And we’re getting older by the minute...”

  “You’re right,” he whispered. Then he found his way home. “Good God, it feels like you were made for me.”

  She just hummed and covered his face with kisses.

  Tom moved, they rocked, the bed squeaked, they clung to each other and it happened so fast. Both of them, bursting. Gasping. Then falling slowly and softly back to earth. He could not take his lips from hers; he didn’t even consider rolling away. He held his weight off her by bracing on his elbows.

  “You have the softest lips in all creation,” he whispered against her mouth. “You have the sweetest body, the most beautiful dark lashes.”

  “How do you do it?” she asked him. “How do you always make me feel so beautiful?”

  “You are,” he whispered. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know. And I love you.” He kissed her again. “I hope it was all right, because I’m in heaven.”

  She laughed softly. “It was all right. Wonderful, in fact.”

  “God, that was perfect.” He moved a little. “I’m not leaving.”

  “That’s okay. I’m feeling very safe right now. Safe and satisfied.”

  “That’s so good to hear.”

  “That lock really turned you on,” she said.

  “It wasn’t the lock,” he said, snuggling closer. “Please don’t let me fall asleep...”

  “Tom, we should talk about something...”

  “What?” he asked, lifting his head from her shoulder.

  “The lock—it’s probably a good idea. A better idea is telling the kids we’re more than friends. They’re old enough that they deserve to know.”

  “I don’t know. You have boys. I still have a young girl. Brenda is sixteen...”

  “It’s no different with boys,” she said. “The kids all have to know the facts of life, the dangers and responsibilities, the joys. We’ve both been left by our spouses and have made good families while unmarried, but we’re entitled to be happy, too. Do you worry that your kids still hope you’ll reconcile with Becky? Because my boys don’t want that for me, for us. They’ve probably already guessed that we love each other.”

  He smiled and moved a little. He moved a little more.

  “You can’t be ready again,” she said. “That’s inhuman.”

  “It’s just what you do to me.”

  She put her arms around his neck. “Fine. We’ll talk when we have our clothes on.”

  “Probably a good idea,” he said.

  * * *

  Dakota went to Rob’s bar for dinner on a Thursday night. It had become his habit for several weeks now and it had not gone unnoticed. When Sid saw him she just shook her head slightly and gave him a half smile. She slapped a napkin down on the bar in front of him.

  “Back again, I see,” she said.

  “Great seeing you, too, Sid,” he said, treating her to his sparkling grin. “How have you been?”

  “Excellent. The usual?”

  “Beer, then I’ll consider dinner.”

  “And if Alyssa shows up, you’ll bolt?”

  “I’m afraid I’ve been a big disappointment to Alyssa,” he said. “She wants a boyfriend and I’m not him.”

  She put his beer in front of him. “Alyssa seems to be more tenacious than I gave her credit for.”

  “Then I’ll be an even bigger disappointment. Because I’m tenacious, too.”

  “I’m getting that.”

  “So, what’s on your agenda for this weekend?” he asked.

  “I’m pretty good at relaxing,” she said. “I have a couple of things scheduled. Nothing terribly exciting.”

  “I’m off on Sunday,” he said. “Saturday night, too. What’s it going to take to get on your schedule?”

  “We’ve been over that...”

  “I could get a background check,” he suggested with a grin.

  “Just give up, Dakota,” she said.

  And then he noticed a little movement beside him.

  “Isn’t this a nice surprise,” a woman’s voice said. And just as quickly, Sid was moving down the bar, asking people if they needed anything.

  Neely. He hadn’t seen her in weeks. “Hi,” he said. “How are things?”

  “Excellent. And you?”

  “Good,” he said, lifting his beer.

  “I’m Neely,” she reminded him.

  “That’s right,” he said, as if he’d forgotten. “Dakota.”

  “Oh, I remember.” She snapped her fingers, bringing Sid back. He frowned at that action. “Can I get a chicken Caesar and a club soda with lime?”

  “Absolutely,” Sid s
aid. “Dakota?”

  “Nothing for me,” he said.

  “So, you’ve been in Timberlake for over a month now,” Neely said. “Does that mean this little town appeals to you?”

  “It’s a nice little town.”

  “And have you settled in for a long stay?” she asked just as Sid put down her drink.

  Dakota didn’t really feel like discussing his plans with her, but on the off chance that Sid might overhear, he told the truth. “I have a job here and I’ve rented a place, but long means different things to different people.”

  “So tell me what you’ve seen and done since we last saw each other,” she said, sipping her drink.

  “Nothing very interesting,” he said. He told her about the job, secretly hoping to put her off with his career as a garbage collector.

  Then she told him she’d gone to a concert in Denver and she’d been shopping for things for her town house—area rugs, throw pillows, art. She suggested she’d have to show him sometime.

  Dakota frowned. She would just invite him over? She didn’t know him. They had no people in common as far as he knew. All she knew was his first name and that he was a trash collector. That kind of rush to intimacy always made him suspicious.

  She talked on, asking very few questions of him and those few he answered with one word if he could. He was thinking he would have to skip dinner tonight if she was going to hang around, but when she finished her salad she put her money on the bar. “Well, I’m off,” she said. “I hope we run into each other again soon.”

  He was so grateful to see her go that he said, “I’m sure we will.” And when she cleared the door, he sighed.

  “How does it feel to be a chick magnet?” Sid asked with laughter in her voice.

  “Do not make fun of me,” he said. “There’s something about her that’s a little scary.”

  “She seems perfectly nice,” Sid said. “Are you ready for your dinner now?”

  “Almost,” he said. He picked up a menu and opened it. “Give me a couple of minutes. I think I might have to try something different tonight.”

  “I thought you were close to doing that...but she gave up,” Sid said, walking away with a laugh.