Firstborn

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  He missed the kids. There was something all wrong about a schoolyard without children playing, shouting, and running. He’d be glad when the session started again in the fall. He always was.

  Steven’s thoughts drifted to his son. He remembered when Ethan was in grade school. In reality, it wasn’t all that long ago—only six years—but it seemed longer. Ethan was becoming a man right before his eyes. He was already an inch taller than Steven and still growing. His voice had lowered before he’d turned fourteen, and this year he’d started shaving regularly.

  Cute enough to drive the girls crazy, Ethan was a serious student, carrying a four-point grade average. He was musically gifted and played several different instruments, including the piano and alto sax. He’d starred in this spring’s high school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Like all the men in the Welby clan, Ethan was athletically inclined, although he preferred sports like golf, tennis, and swimming to the rowdier team sports favored by his uncles and cousins.

  And now, thanks to the generosity of Dallas and Paula Hurst, Ethan was about to become the owner of a classic ’55 Chevy.

  Steven grinned. His son would never suspect. It was no secret that Ethan wanted a car of his own, but he’d been saving the money he earned at his part-time job at the hardware store. Everybody expected him to get a scholarship, of course, but Ethan was smart enough to know there would be plenty of other out-of-pocket expenses. He said he’d rather borrow his mom’s car or ride his bike than come up short of cash when it came time for college.

  That was one of the reasons Dallas had insisted on buying the car. “How many boys Ethan’s age are that levelheaded?” Dallas had asked Steven last week. “Maybe you were, but I wasn’t. I’m lucky I graduated at all. Too busy partying and making out with the girls.” He’d punctuated his sentence with a self-satisfied wink.

  Steven turned his chair toward the desk. The truth was, even though Dallas pretended to be a wild child with no cares, Steven could see the longing in his eyes when he looked at Ethan.

  Dallas had never said why he and Paula didn’t have children after nearly nine years of marriage, and Steven had never asked. What he did know was this—Dallas would make a great dad.

  Dallas had to call in a few favors in order to get reservations on such short notice at Billet Doux, a popular French eatery in downtown Boise. But he wanted the evening to be perfect, and this was Paula’s favorite restaurant.

  “Your table is ready, sir,” the hostess told him. “Would you like to be seated while you wait for the rest of your party?”

  “Please."

  The hostess led the way to the patio table he’d requested. She gave him a menu and disappeared back to the front. On the east side of the restaurant, the table had a clear view of the foothills, still green in these early days of June. The evening was pleasant, warm but not hot, and a breeze whispered through the branches of the young trees that encircled the patio.

  Dallas removed his suit jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. As he sat down, a waitress approached, order pad in hand, a shimmy in her hips. Probably no more than twenty-five, if that, she was long-legged and lithe with a cascade of ebony hair and big brown eyes. Her gaze slid over him, and when she smiled, Dallas knew he’d measured up despite their age difference. He responded as any red-blooded American male would—with a grin.

  “Can I bring you something to drink?” she asked in a voice that was something close to a purr.

  “No, thanks.” Remembering what had brought him to the restaurant, he added, “I’ll wait for my wife.”

  Her smile slipped. To Dallas, it was an enormously satisfactory reaction.

  “I’ll check back,” she said, “in case you change your mind.” The tilt of her head sent a silent message: In case you change your mind about me.

  Dallas leaned back in his chair, still grinning.

  “Do I need to scratch her eyes out?”

  He laughed as he looked over his shoulder; Paula stood at the patio entrance, a frown furrowing her brow.

  “Caught me looking.” He stood and walked over to her. “But don’t hurt her. I told her I was waiting for my beautiful wife.” He embraced her. “You know no other woman can hold a candle to you.”

  “See that you don’t forget it, buster.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was seriously annoyed with him or not.

  He kissed her warmly, then asked, “How was your meeting with Gerard Stone?”

  “Henry & Associates will get the loan.” She gave her head a little toss. “You know that old goat can’t deny me anything.”

  Dallas laughed again. “Neither can I.” He took her by the arm and steered her toward their table.

  “I take it you and Steve worked out the deal for Ethan’s car after I left the dealership.”

  He pulled out the chair for her. “Yup. I even talked Steve into letting me drive the Chevy over to his brother’s. That’s where they’re keeping it until the party.”

  He sat in the chair at Paula’s right hand. “I took the long route getting there, and by the time the cab brought me back to the dealer’s, I figured there wasn’t much point in returning to the office.” Twisting toward his jacket on the back of the chair, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small gold box. “So I did some shopping instead.” He slid the box toward Paula.

  “Oh, Dallas.” Her face lit up. Nobody loved getting presents more than his wife. “What have you done now?”

  He had a reason for buying the platinum-and-diamond necklace. A reason beyond the pleasure of hearing her squeal of delight as she lifted the gift from its box.

  “Dallas darling, it’s exquisite.”

  He watched as Paula fastened the necklace around her delicate throat.

  His wife was thirty, and Dallas would be forty-one in less than two months. They’d agreed to start a family five years ago, but here they were, still childless. Dallas wanted to know why.

  Paula hated doctors, needles, hospitals, and medical tests of any kind. For months she’d turned a deaf ear to his not-so-subtle hints that they undergo fertility tests. So, without telling his wife first, Dallas had gone to see his doctor. Today he’d received the results from Dr. Kramer.

  Now he needed to find a way to tell Paula that there was nothing wrong with him, that there was no reason he couldn’t father children. He had to convince Paula to see her own doctor.

  It might take more than one platinum-and-diamond necklace to achieve his objective. Lots more.

  Three

  “Hey, Mom!”

  Erika turned from the center island in Paula’s kitchen, where she was chopping celery on the butcher block.

  Ethan stood in the doorway. His wet hair was plastered to his head, and droplets of water glittered on his suntanned skin. “The guys want to know when the burgers’ll be ready. We’re starved.”

  “Your dad and Dallas had to run a quick errand. They should be back soon.” She lifted a serving dish of olives, carrots, celery, and dip. “I’ll bring some snacks out in a few minutes.”

  He flashed her a grin. “Thanks.” Then he dashed back to the swimming pool, where his friends were engaged in a frenzied game of water volleyball.

  “It’s a good thing the weather held,” Paula said, drawing Erika’s gaze.

  “Ethan appreciates you letting us have the barbecue here. So do Steven and I.”

  Paula shrugged off the thanks. “You know we’re glad to do it. Dallas and I don’t use the pool nearly enough. It’s good to see somebody enjoying it.”

  Hearing more animated shouts from outside, Erika laughed softly. “Well, nobody could enjoy it more than a bunch of teenagers.”

  “So true.”

  Erika grabbed the sealed tops of three large bags of chips with one hand and balanced the relish tray with the other. “I’ll take these out to the table before they start rioting from hunger.”

  “Maybe I’d better call Dallas and see what’s keeping them.”

  “Yes, maybe yo
u—” Before Erika could finish, she heard voices coming from the front of the house. “That must be them now.”

  A few moments later, Steven appeared out of the hallway, Dallas right behind him.

  Steven grinned from ear to ear. “I parked it over in front of the neighbor’s house,” he said in a stage whisper, “in case anybody goes out front for some reason.” He held up an overnight mail envelope. “I stopped by the house and found this on the front porch. It’s addressed to you.” He glanced at it. “Name’s Lundquist?”

  Erika shook her head. “Probably a sales gimmick. Just drop it by my purse there. I’ll look at it later. Right now, we’ve got some starving, waterlogged kids to feed, and you’ve got burgers to grill.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” He saluted her, then tossed the envelope onto the counter as instructed.

  It didn’t take more than a minute for the pool to empty and the ten teenagers, five girls and five boys, to swarm the picnic table on the patio. There was plenty of good-natured shoving and lots of laughter as the bags of chips were torn open.

  Erika stepped back from the feeding frenzy and watched with a sense of pure delight. She loved being with Ethan and his friends. She didn’t think there was anything better in the world than being a wife and mother, spending time with her family, sharing love with those closest to her.

  “There you go,” Steven whispered.

  She turned, not surprised to find him nearby.

  “You’re doing that melodramatic mother thing again.” He clutched his hands beneath his chin, lifted his dark blue eyes toward the sky, and in a high-pitched voice said, “Oh, my baby boy is all grown up. Whatever shall I do?”

  She playfully slapped his shoulder before leaning into him and sharing a kiss. “I can’t help it,” she said when their lips parted. “I’m blessed, and I know it. God’s been good to us.”

  “Amen to that.” All signs of teasing vanished.

  Their gazes held a moment longer; then Steven returned to the grill and his duties as chef while Erika walked toward the kitchen. She reached the doorway as Dallas came out, carrying a cooler full of sodas.

  “Your father and grandmother are here,” he said.

  “Already?” Erika felt the familiar twinge of nerves that came whenever her father was around. Would the food be okay? Would the kids be too rowdy, too noisy? What could go wrong and what could she do to prevent it?

  In her father’s presence, she became an uncertain, fretful child, wanting desperately to earn his approval. Why, she often wondered, couldn’t she change their relationship? Why, when it came to her father, was she stuck in the same rut after all these years?

  She entered the kitchen. Trevor James and Louisa Scott, her maternal grandmother, were both seated in the breakfast nook.

  “Hi, Dad.” She smiled. “Hi, Grams.”

  Her father acknowledged her greeting with a slight nod of his head.

  Her grandmother—still spry at eighty-two— motioned her closer. “My goodness, Erika. Aren’t you pretty as a picture. I swear, you look like a teenager yourself in that outfit.”

  “Oh, Grams. Don’t be silly.” She kissed the sweet woman on the cheek.

  Erika often wondered how she would have survived childhood if not for her grandmother’s love. After Erika’s mother, Mary James, died of complications from pneumonia when Erika was ten, Louisa Scott—a widow herself—had moved in with them in order to care for Erika. Through all the years since, Louisa had been there whenever Erika needed her. And some of those years had been pretty rough.

  “The burgers are on the grill,” Erika said to the room in general, her gaze flickering to her father, then away again. “It shouldn’t be long before they’re ready.”

  Paula opened the refrigerator. “I’ll take the salads out to the mob.”

  “Where’s Ethan?” Trevor interjected gruffly. “Isn’t he going to come say hello to his grandfather?”

  “He doesn’t know you’re here, Dad.” Erika despised the quaver in her voice. “I’ll tell him.”

  She went outside, glad to get away, and crossed the patio, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

  October 1979

  Erika lay on her back on the bed; telephone pressed to her right ear, her left ankle resting on her bent right knee.

  “I haven’t had a letter from Steven in three weeks,” she told Anna.

  “Why don’t you go out with somebody else? That’d serve him right.”

  Erika sighed. “I don’t want to date anybody else. I love Steven.”

  “You know what, Erika? You need to get a life. I always thought Steven was cool, too, but the dude’s gone off to Oregon. So get over it. There’s plenty of guys right here in Boise who’d love to take you out.”

  “Name one.”

  “How about Dallas Hurst? He’s a stud muffin.”

  “Dallas? He’s not interested in me.”

  “Well, he’s sure hangin’ around your place a lot for a guy who’s not interested.”

  Erika knew she couldn’t make Anna understand the way things were between her and Dallas. They spent time together partly out of habit, partly because they both missed Steven. That was all.

  Anna abruptly switched the subject. “Are you going to the Halloween dance on Friday?”

  “No.” Erika rolled onto her stomach, bracing herself on her elbows. “I wasn’t planning to.”

  “Come on, Erika. Tommy and I’ll pick you up. You won’t have to go alone.”

  “I don’t think so, but thanks anyway.”

  “You need to get over it, Erika James.” There was a pause; then Anna said, “My mom’s calling me. Gotta go.”

  “Talk to you later.”

  Erika hung up the phone, then reached for the single piece of spiral notebook paper that lay on the bed beside her. She idly plucked at the ragged left edge as her eyes scanned the words she already knew by heart. Dear Erika, Steven had written.

  How’s it going? You keeping your grades up? I like Eugene, but it sure rains a lot. People even wash their cars when it’s raining. They say if you don’t, you’ll never wash it. Guess they’re right. College is tougher than I thought it would be. I spend most of my free time at the library. My parents drove over last week and went to the football game. I think they really came to be sure I wasn’t starving or spending all my money on something I shouldn’t. You know how parents can be. I may not make it home for Thanksgiving. Looks like I might have a job at a local record shop. If I do, I’ll be working straight through the semester. But I’ll be sure and call you as soon as I do get into town. You take care, Steven.

  Erika tried hard to find an “I love you” written between the lines, but she couldn’t.

  She wanted to die.

  “Erika, dearest,” her grandmother called, her voice muffled through the closed bedroom door. “Supper’s ready.”

  Erika quickly refolded the letter and slipped it beneath her pillow, then rushed out of her bedroom and into the kitchen.

  Erika’s father was already seated at the table. He glanced at her and said, “Why weren’t you helping Louisa with supper?”

  “Sorry, Dad. I… I was on the phone talking to Anna. I forgot the time.”

  “Blasted contraption,” her father muttered.

  Grams lifted a platter of fried pork chops from the kitchen counter. Erika hurried to take it from her, then carried it to the table where she placed it in front of her father before taking her seat to his left. Grams joined them, sitting in her chair at the foot of the table.

  “I want this moping around to stop,” her father said as he dished vegetables onto his plate. “Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Sit up straight.”

  Erika stiffened her spine and squared her shoulders.

  “You listen to me, girl. I let you see that Welby boy against my better judgment. I could see how you were around him. Well, he’s gone now, and good riddance. The way you were going, it’s a miracle you didn’t get you
rself in trouble. Your whole generation’s going down the drain, and I mean to see to it that you don’t go right along with them.”

  “Trevor, please,” Grams said softly.

  “Stay out of it, Louisa. You know I’m right.”

  “Erika’s never given you any cause to believe—”

  “I said, stay out of it.”

  Grams pressed her lips together in a firm line.

  Erika stared down at her plate, biting her lip. Why did it always have to be this way? “I haven’t done anything I shouldn’t, Dad. Honest.”

  “See that you don’t.” He shoved the vegetable dish in her direction.

  The rest of the meal was eaten in silence.

  Four

  Steven and Dallas watched as Erika walked toward the picnic table. Her face was pale, her movements stiff.

  “Your father-in-law’s here,” Dallas said.

  “Yeah.” Steven turned back to the grill. “I could tell.”

  “How do the two of you put up with him? He’s the coldest fish I’ve ever met.”

  Steven didn’t answer, even though he’d thought much the same thing about Trevor James over the years. The same and worse besides. In fact, there was only one good thing he could say about his father-in-law, and that was that he loved his grandson. Of course, everybody warmed to Ethan. He was a kid with a winning manner that even his grandpa couldn’t resist.

  But Erika was special, too, and why the man couldn’t be decent to her Steven would never understand. He thought of the many times he’d held his wife in his arms while she cried over something her father had said or done.

  Even on their wedding day.

  As though it were yesterday, he remembered standing in the reception line, his left hand on the small of Erika’s back, while well-wishers congratulated them. Steven had felt like the luckiest man alive that day. Judging by Erika’s smile, he knew she’d felt the same.