“That’s my whole problem! I am grown up. Too grown up. Thirty-two and counting fast.”
“Your body may be thirty-two, but you’re behaving like Heather right now.” His heavy brows formed a menacing V. “Do I make myself clear?”
It was clear, all right. His beard was sticking straight out from his face.
“Got it.” Her peevish tone disappeared instantly. “When I see David tomorrow, I’m sure he’ll explain everything.”
“Josh, let me explain why your mother and I won’t be getting married.” David pulled his kitchen chair closer to the young boy who was sitting across from him with his hamburger parked in front of him, untouched. “Okay, son?”
Josh nodded, his full lips pulled to a narrow line across his small face.
He’s not happy about this. David understood only too well a child’s deepest need to have a solid home with two parents who loved their offspring and one another. Josh had been talking about it off and on all morning, not understanding about love or respect or compatibility or trust, only seeing that the thing he wanted most in life—more than Nintendo or Game Boy—wasn’t going to happen.
“Josh, there are two basic problems here.” Keep it simple, man. “For one thing, your mother and I don’t love each other.”
“Did you ever love my mother?” Josh’s voice cracked, splitting David’s heart in two.
He exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “Yes, I did. Before you were born, when your mother lived here in Virginia, I thought I loved her very much.” He had no intention of explaining the difference between love and lust to an eight-year-old. He hadn’t understood it himself at eighteen. “But your mother didn’t love me. She told me as much, many times. Then she moved away, to California. And after a long time, the feelings I had for her went away, too.”
Josh nodded, a faint light of comprehension flickering in his gray eyes.
David dropped his voice to its gentlest pitch. “Did your mother ever say she loved me, Josh?”
The boy stopped nodding. “No.”
“There, you see? But there’s something more important you need to understand, son. Your mother says she doesn’t love God. But I do, very much.”
Josh’s head drooped. “I know. She thinks that’s weird.”
No surprise there. “The Bible tells us that those who love the Lord should be yoked to—married to, that is—other people who also love God. Does that make sense?”
“Sure.” His little shoulders shrugged in agreement. “That way you have something in common. And somewhere to go when you’re in trouble.”
Smart boy. “You’re absolutely right, Josh. A faith that’s shared holds a marriage together, a family together.”
“Will we still be a family?”
David swallowed hard. “You’ll always be my son. That’ll never change. Ever. And we can see each other a bunch, since your mom tells me you’re going to stay in Abingdon. Have you met Grandfather Robison yet?”
“Yeah!” Josh’s head bobbed up and down. “He gave me the neatest train set.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Know what? At first I thought he looked pretty scary. He’s really big and stuff. But he cried when he met me. Cried harder than Mom. Isn’t that wild?”
“That’s wild, all right.” David gulped again, but still found himself choking out his words. “I’d have given anything to be there, Josh.” Bringing his emotions under control for Josh’s sake, he veered off on a different slant. “You have a second grandfather, you know. My dad. We’re having dinner with him tonight. Think you can handle meeting another grandpa?”
“Will he bring me something, too?” Josh’s enthusiasm quickly faded when he saw David’s lifted eyebrow and exaggerated scowl. “Just kidding, Dad. He doesn’t have to give me a gift. Meeting him will be good enough. Does he look just like us? That’s what Mom said.”
“After you meet him, you tell me. Then tomorrow afternoon, you and I are going to be part of a hot air balloon launch. How ’bout that?”
“Way cool! Will you be in the balloon, Dad?”
“Not me, son. I don’t … uh, handle heights very well. But you’ll get to meet Belle. The lady I told you about?”
Josh’s eyes grew wide. “You mean she is gonna fly? Man, she’s really brave!”
“Uh-huh.” David tucked a napkin under Josh’s chin, determined to get some lunch in the boy. “She’s brave, all right.” Brave or crazy, I’m not sure which. Just keep her safe, Lord. For me. Keep her very safe.
“That’s her.” David waved toward Belle, who was dressed in all the colors of a clown on Parade Day, surrounded by ballooning gear in the same rainbow hues. “See her, Josh?”
“She’s pretty easy to pick out, Dad.” The young boy scampered across the grass, a capricious March wind whipping his jacket around him, while David lengthened his stride, determined to be there when his son met Belle for the first time.
She stood, watching them moving toward her, her eyes switching back and forth. Even from a distance, he could read the anxiety etched on her freckled features. “Hello there, beautiful!” he called out, hoping to put her at ease. When she offered a tentative smile, he knew the worst was behind them.
Bounding up to her like an enthusiastic puppy, Josh thrust out his hand. “Hi, I’m Joshua Robison!”
Belle squeezed it, broadening her smile. Her eyes swept over the boy from head to toe. “My, but you do look like your father, don’t you?”
“Yup. Mom says Cahill men are hams some.”
“Are what?” Belle wrinkled her nose. “Oh! Handsome.” She winked at him over Josh’s head. “She’s right about that one. My name is Belle O’Brien.”
Josh nodded. “You’re a disc jockey, right?”
“Most days. But this afternoon I’ll be a passenger in a hot air balloon. Wanna watch?”
“Nope.” Josh shook his head. “I wanna go.”
Belle bent over until she was eye to eye with the boy. “I wish you could, Joshua, but the passenger list is full today. Maybe sometime you and your dad could go hot air ballooning.”
Josh pushed his lower lip out in a pronounced pout. “Nope. Dad said he doesn’t like high places.”
“Is that so?” Belle stood again, her eyes searching David’s. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well now you do.” He hated this, hated having Belle see him as anything less than manly or courageous. The heat in his face only added to his shame. “It’s a long story, Belle. A good friend of mine was in a tower accident. He fell, and … anyway, I’ve decided that I’m … happier on firm ground.”
Her face registered understanding. “So you don’t climb the stick either?”
He exhaled a noisy sigh. “Right.” He looked down at Josh. “Which means, buddy, if you want a balloon ride someday, our brave Belle will have to be your traveling companion, okay?” He ruffled the boy’s hair, still amazed to have him there, in Abingdon. A part of his life. For good, Lord, please?
Josh looked disappointed but didn’t say anything. Poor kid. He’d probably heard “we can’t afford that” his whole life and decided no really meant “no money.” Maybe the check from Sherry’s father would help erase some of that.
He watched Belle as she listened to Josh’s version of his cross-country adventures on Interstate 40. Each time he described it, the boy made the drive longer, the weather wilder, the cities larger. To hear Josh tell it, Memphis was the size of Montana.
No question, David would have to sit the child down for a father-son chat about honesty and truth-telling. He’d be the one to teach his son about their heavenly Father, too. The very thought of such a scenario filled his chest with a warm sense of pride, of responsibility.
Father and son. Yeah, it felt good, felt right.
The idea of marrying Belle felt right, too, he reminded himself. The sooner he told her that, the better. As of this moment, though, he’d be walking down the aisle with a peacock. The object of his affection was covered in bright colors, head to toe
. Bulky yellow sweater, purple scarf looped around her neck, a pair of blue jeans—brand-new, from the stiff look of them—and screaming red sneakers. Where do women get this stuff?
He tossed her a playful wink. “Kinda flashy in the wardrobe department today, aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” Josh chimed in. “You look like a box of crayons!”
She exhaled with noisy frustration. “Patrick’s idea. He wanted me to match the colors of the balloon. Said it would look good when the cameras started rolling.”
David surveyed the wide expanse of the campus green, deserted except for the balloon crew and a few students between classes. “Uh … what cameras?”
“My point exactly. This is hardly a Big Media Event, not even in Abingdon.” She leaned toward him and dropped her voice to a husky pitch. “Though I’m thrilled a certain radio engineer paid a visit to the launch site.”
He shrugged with exaggerated indifference. “Somebody had to bring you the broadcast gear.”
For a split second, she fell for his subterfuge. “Wh-what? You mean—?”
“What I mean is, I don’t ever intend to be apart from you for two days, ever again.” He grinned broadly. “Is that understood?”
Her cheeks now matched her sneakers. “Ohh. So things are …”
“Things are fine.” He rested his hands on Josh’s shoulders, squeezing them with fatherly affection. He couldn’t do it enough. “Josh and I are getting to know one another while Sherry enrolls for classes next semester and finds an apartment.” He paused, his eyes trained on hers. “For the two of them.”
Belle’s relief was written all over her face. “How wonderful! Wonderful that … er … Josh will be here in Abingdon. With you.”
He held her gaze. “And with you. You two are a quite a pair.”
“We are?” Belle and Josh looked at each other in amazement.
David reached for Belle’s hand, twining her slim fingers through his own. “You’re both small, energetic … and full of baloney.”
“Hey!”
Two sets of narrow eyes pointed at him, with frowns to match.
“You forget,” he chided them gently, “I love baloney.”
Their frowns began to turn the corner.
“And I love the two of you more than life itself. That’s the thing you have in common most of all.”
Josh ducked his head, obviously not accustomed to such tender words from a man, but liking it just the same.
Belle’s eyes were glistening. “I’m not wild about baloney, Josh. But I sure do love your dad.”
She said it!
His heart made a path toward the sun. “You do, huh?” He swallowed a threatening lump that appeared out of nowhere. “Suppose we continue this conversation tonight after you touch the ground, Belle. My place, at seven o’clock?” He slid his wire rims down to give her a full-tilt display of raised eyebrows and the gray eyes she seemed to find so irresistible. “If you don’t mind, beloved, I have a proposal I’d like to make the minute you land on terra firma.”
For a second she stared at him, startled, then Belle threw back her head and laughed. “Are you kidding? After that confession, I may never touch the ground again.”
Touching the ground became an important subject over the next thirty minutes, as Belle watched the balloon crew at work, spreading out the colorful envelope with diagonal panels sewn in brightly hued zigzags that flapped and fluttered each time a hint of wind skipped past.
The wicker basket looked rugged enough. At least as sturdy as the kind grocers used to pack fruit, she decided. Heaven knew she’d dressed the part, in berry blue, banana yellow, and cherry red.
David was busy strapping the remote broadcast equipment in the gondola while Josh jumped up and down on the sidelines, full of running commentary. A few curious students hung in the background—none with a camera or reporter’s notebook, she noted. Patrick and Norah showed up minutes before four o’clock, binoculars in hand, escorting her contest winner, a teenager who stared at the inflating balloon with genuine terror in his eyes.
Bless his heart, there wasn’t a thing to be concerned about.
Still, as the zero hour approached, she realized they’d both benefit from a few words of instruction before they climbed into a mere basket and floated over Abingdon. She made her way toward Tim and Patrick, who appeared to be having an intense discussion about the weather.
She cleared her throat to get their attention. “Say, fellas. What makes the balloon rise?”
“Hot air.” Patrick gave her a sly wink. “You should have no problem creating plenty for them, Belle.”
“ ’Fraid not, sir.” Tim, the pilot of the balloon crew, pointed to a huge fan and propane tank. “The fan creates the air when we do our cold inflation of the envelope. The propane tanks in the basket provide the heat. The only thing Miss O’Brien needs to do up there is smile and look pretty.”
Belle liked Tim already.
“Almost ready.” He scanned the horizon. “It’s a bit windier than I’d like, Mr. Reese, but as you pointed out, we’ve postponed this flight twice already.”
“Go, go.” Clearly, Patrick was impatient with the process.
Windy? How windy? Wind was necessary for ballooning, wasn’t it? “Tim, we’re perfectly safe, right?”
His mouth said yes. His eyes suggested something else.
Josh, never far behind her, tugged on her elbow. “Don’t fall out of that basket, Belle!”
“Yeah, please don’t.” David’s eyes were full of teasing. “It would ruin my day.”
“And mine.” She smiled and tightened her scarf, gazing at the March sky, feeling a slight breeze circling around her. Only a slight one, though. Nothing Tim can’t handle.
Finally, she turned to her contest winner, a loyal listener who’d stuffed twenty entries in her fishbowl. “You ready, Paul?”
The teenager’s eyes were saucers. “I’m … I’m not sure I …” He gulped, watching as the crew fired the dual burners, which quickly lifted the envelope upright, straining against its tethers toward the pale blue skies above.
The crew, perched on the edge of the basket to keep it from lifting off, were waving furiously. “C’mon, you two!” Tim stretched his hand in their direction.
“Miss O’Brien, I … I can’t!” The pimply young man looked ready to faint, his Adam’s apple lodged in his throat.
Poor Paul!
“Not to worry. I’ll be taking photos while I’m up there. I’ll send you copies.” She winked and gave him an impromptu hug. “No one will know you weren’t up there with me unless you tell them, okay?” She patted his shoulder, noting the visible relief written all over his face, then dashed toward the basket and the waiting crew.
They dumped her inside with one heave-ho and little ceremony. Good thing we didn’t have cameras rolling for that little exercise in grace. “Ta-da!” she said lamely, adjusting her clothing.
“Where’s Paul?” The pilot had to shout above the burners.
“Not coming.” She would never call the boy chicken. She would call him smart. “It’s you and me against the wind, Tim.”
“Wait!” Josh suddenly bolted in their direction, his arms outstretched, his small gray eyes pleading. “Can I go?” He whirled around with a look of desperation. “Dad, please, can I take his place?”
“Josh, I—”
“Fine with me,” Tim blurted out. “Toss him in the basket, sign a release form, and we’re outta here.” He pointed at David. “You’re his father, right?”
Belle watched David gulp, clearly caught off guard. “Uh … right.”
“Does that mean I can go, Dad?” Josh was beside himself with joy, hopping from one foot to the other. “Please? I promise I’ll do everything they tell me to do.”
The balloon strained at its tethers, forcing a quick decision.
“Yes, I guess … I guess you can, son.”
One of the crew members shoved a form and a pen in David’s hand. Belle watched him sign
it, wondering what must be running through his mind. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for his son. A longing to make him happy. And a healthy dose of parental concern for Josh’s safety.
“Frankly, we need him for the weight,” Tim shouted over the roar of the propane burners. “Not a thing to worry about. Climb in, little fella.”
Belle pulled their junior passenger into the basket, her hands brushing David’s, her eyes locking with his. “I’ll take care of him, David. I promise.”
Tim fired the dual burners again. “Weigh off!”
The crew jumped clear off the gondola and Belle scrambled for her camera, expecting the balloon to shoot into the sky like a ball held under water too long, exploding above the surface.
Instead, it danced along the grass for a few feet, lifting gently upward. Another shot of heat from the burners and it picked up lift speed. Between blasts, Belle called down to Patrick and Norah, who were official chase crew mascots for the afternoon, “See you when we land! Don’t lose us!”
As if anyone could misplace 105,000 cubic feet of rainbow-colored balloon.
Josh captured the moment in one breathless word: “Wow!”
The sensation was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her stomach was somewhere around her knees. She felt light as a feather. And the sound! So quiet, so absolutely still, except when Tim fired the burners, loud and hot, right above her head. Between blasts, she realized she could no longer feel nor hear the wind. Eerie.
She listened to WPER on headphones, monitoring Burt for his on-air cue to go live. In seconds, she was broadcasting. “From the rooftops of Abingdon, I’m Belle O’Brien with my special guest.” She winked at Josh, wide-eyed at her side. “We’re a thousand feet above Virginia Highlands Community College, headed for a piece of sky near you.”
Describing the view below, she lowered her voice to match the hushed sensations around her, then shouted over the burners when Tim shot a few million BTUs of heat into the envelope, lifting them higher. “We’re traveling southwest above Lee Highway, with a beautiful view of the Blue Ridge Mountains on our left, the Norfolk Southern Railway rolling through town on our right. The one that blows her whistle every morning at eleven, right in the middle of my show.”
Mixed Signals Page 35
