Rebecca's Little Secret: Children Of Texas

by Judy Christenberry

  “Didn’t you have anyone to help you?” Chelsea asked.

  “No, I didn’t,” Rebecca said calmly.

  Jeff protested Chelsea’s question. “Really, Chelsea, do you think all single parents have maids?”

  “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t think about it. I can’t imagine having to do all of that alone.”

  “It’s all right,” Rebecca hurriedly assured her. “If you’re not in that situation, you don’t tend to think about these details.”

  “True,” Bill chimed in. “I wouldn’t think about laundry. Of course, he’s such a little guy, he probably didn’t have too much—”

  Rebecca burst into laughter. “Oh, Bill, you have so much to learn. Children go through clean clothes like a hurricane. You practically have to do a load a day to keep up.”

  “And I’ve heard you have to buy a lot of things for a baby,” Jeff added.

  “Oh, yes,” Rebecca agreed, rolling her eyes. “Just to go out for the evening, you feel like you have to pack enough to last a week. It’s incredible.”

  “I admire you so much, Rebecca,” Chelsea said slowly. “I don’t know how you managed.”

  “When the time comes, you do what you have to do, Chelsea. You’d manage, just like I did.” Rebecca smiled reassuringly.

  “I don’t know about that, but I hope so,” Chelsea said.

  “Come on. We need to find our seats,” Bill said.

  “I thought we were eating first,” Rebecca said, confused.

  “The show starts at six, so we thought we’d eat afterward.”

  Rebecca said nothing, but she knew that schedule wouldn’t work on a regular basis for a four-year-old.

  Joey walked beside her, holding her hand. Jeff fell back to take his other hand. Then he whispered to Rebecca, “We’ll get him some snacks to hold him until dinner.”

  “Thank you. I didn’t want to complain to Bill.”

  “Like me, he’s inexperienced, but we’re fast learners,” Jeff assured her with a grin.

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Two hours later, they’d watched the Sesame Street characters whirl around the ice, their movements based on several different stories. Joey had consumed cotton candy, popcorn and several sodas.

  The last few minutes, he’d gotten strangely quiet.

  “Joey, are you feeling all right?” she whispered as he crawled into her lap.

  “No. I don’t feel so good.”

  “Is it your tummy?”

  “Uh-huh.” He laid his head on her shoulder.

  “I think we’d better go to the bathroom,” she whispered in his ear, and tried to move him out of her lap so they could get up.

  “What is it?” Jeff asked.

  “Joey doesn’t feel well. We’re going to the bathroom.”

  “Wait just a minute and the show will be over. That way he doesn’t have to miss the finale.”

  Rebecca didn’t think the finale meant much to Joey. However, it was easier to do as Jeff said rather than argue with him. But she was wrong. They shouldn’t have waited.

  Joey spewed forth all those treats he’d eaten so eagerly, just barely missing Chelsea’s skirt.

  Chelsea screamed, drawing back into Bill.

  Joey immediately began to cry, both from pain and embarrassment.

  Rebecca got out tissues and mopped up Joey’s face. Fortunately, the vomit didn’t get on anyone. “Jeff, would you alert a janitor, please?”

  “Sure thing. Is he all right?”

  “I’m sure he’s feeling better now. He’ll be all right,” she assured Jeff, appreciating his worry.

  After Jeff left, she turned to Bill and Chelsea. “If you want to climb over this mess and wait for us at the top of the stairs, that will be fine.”

  The two of them scrambled out of the row and up the stairs.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy,” Joey whispered.

  “Sweetie, it’s not your fault. Everything will be fine.” She snuggled him up against her and rocked back and forth.

  Jeff came running down the stairs. “Where are Bill and Chelsea?”

  “They’re waiting for us up top. It was a little unpleasant down here.”

  A man in a gray uniform came down the stairs, carrying a mop and bucket.

  Jeff turned around to meet him. “I’ll apologize again. We gave him too many treats on an empty stomach.”

  “Don’t worry, sir. It happens all the time.”

  Jeff reached into his pocket and Rebecca saw him give the man some money. Then he turned and held out his arms for Joey.

  “Jeff, he might get sick again and—”

  “I wash just as well as you do. Come on, Joey, let me carry you to the car.”

  Joey seemed willing to make the transfer, and Rebecca prayed he wouldn’t throw up on Jeff. It would completely destroy Joey.

  Fortunately, they reached the car with no incidents.

  Once they were settled in the back seat, Joey slumped against his mother, and the drive home was quick. When they arrived, Jeff got out and came around to get Joey to carry him into the house.

  “Really, Jeff, I can carry him.”

  “You’ve been carrying him by yourself for too long.” Jeff scooped Joey up, putting his head on his shoulder. “Bill, can you escort the ladies?”

  Before Rebecca could protest, she found herself being guided to Vivian’s front door, her elbow in Bill’s firm grasp, just as he held Chelsea’s with the other hand.

  Betty had met Jeff at the door and immediately alerted Vivian that Joey was sick. By the time Rebecca followed them to Joey’s room, she found both ladies hovering over him. She continued on to the bathroom and got the stomach medicine all mothers kept on hand. With a glass of water, she carried a spoon and the bottle to Joey’s bedside.

  “Open your mouth, Joey,” Rebecca ordered softly. The little boy opened his mouth and his eyes.

  “I’m going to put medicine in your mouth. I want you to swallow it all at once, okay? Then you can have some water.”

  Joey did as he was told. Then he fell back against his pillow, his eyes closed. Rebecca felt his cheeks and forehead. He wasn’t running a fever. With relief, Rebecca began undressing him.

  “Don’t we need to call a doctor?” Jeff asked, still hovering over the bed.

  “No. He’s not running any fever. He’s asleep now. I don’t think he’ll wake up until the morning.” Rebecca pulled off each little tennis shoe and put them side by side at the end of the bed. She folded Joey’s jeans. Then she pulled the covers over him.

  “Thanks for helping, Jeff. I hope he didn’t ruin the evening for you.”

  “But what about dinner?” Jeff asked, recognizing a dismissal when he heard one.

  Betty and Vivian stared at him. “Good heavens, you haven’t eaten yet?” Vivian asked in surprise.

  “No. We were going to eat after the show.”

  “I can fix something—”

  Jeff stopped Betty’s offer. “No, we’re not going to ask you to dirty your kitchen again. But if Joey’s going to sleep, can’t you come out for dinner?” he asked Rebecca.

  “Oh, no, he might wake up and call for me. I’d better stay here,” she quickly said.

  “Now, Rebecca, there’s no need for that,” Betty assured her. “I was going to watch a movie. I can watch in the room next door and be able to hear Joey if he calls. And don’t you dare say you’re a better mother than me.”

  “Of course not, Betty.” What could Rebecca say?

  “So you go off for dinner with your friends and I’ll keep an eye on young Joey.”

  “I think that’s a good idea, Rebecca. You need to relax a little. You never go out.” Vivian nodded as she folded her arms in determination.

  “But, Vivian—” Rebecca began, but Vivian told her again she should go.

  Jeff took her arm. “All the votes have been cast, young lady, and you are the lucky winner of a free dinner and night out. Come on.” Over her shoulder he mouthed the words “Thank you�
� to Vivian and Betty.

  They met the other two downstairs and again got into the car, women in the back seat.

  “I’m so glad you could come,” Chelsea said. “Is Joey all right?”

  “He will be. All those snacks on an empty stomach weren’t a good idea. He usually eats dinner by six-thirty,” she explained.

  “Oh, I need to remember that,” Chelsea said, frowning.

  Bill looked at her over his shoulder. “I don’t think you’ll forget that experience very quickly, Chelsea. You must’ve jumped a foot or two. I thought you were going to climb on top of me.” His grin told all of them he wouldn’t have minded.

  “I was surprised,” Chelsea protested, her cheeks red.

  “Of course you were,” Rebecca agreed, sending a reproving look toward Bill’s grin.

  “Well, I should be the one apologizing,” Bill said. “I didn’t realize Joey ate that early.”

  “I’m afraid so. And it helps if he stays on a regular schedule, which makes things difficult some days.”

  “Maybe I understand now why my friends’ lives changed so dramatically when they had a baby.” Bill was now frowning as much as Chelsea.

  “Yes, and if you add to that lack of sleep, for at least the first year, and the cost of baby-sitters as well as the difficulty of finding a good one, you have many reasons they’re not interested in going out on the town anymore,” Rebecca said with a smile.

  “Makes me think having a baby is no light decision,” Bill said. “I’d always figured on a couple of rug rats, but I didn’t think it would change my life that much.”

  Rebecca just laughed.

  “Well, it’s easier if there are two of you, isn’t it?” Chelsea asked.

  Rebecca shrugged. “I guess it would be. But I’ve heard of some husbands who don’t participate in raising their children. They leave it all to their wives.”

  “Ooh, I’d hate that,” Chelsea said. “I’d divorce him.”

  “And then you’d be left on your own.”

  “But he’d have to pay me child support.”

  “Not all of them do. And the law is slow in catching up to them. I learned about that in law school,” Jeff added.

  “That’s not fair,” Chelsea protested.

  “No, it’s not, but life isn’t fair. And you can’t take a baby to the return department and tell them you want your money back,” Rebecca pointed out.

  “No, I guess not. Joey’s not my child, but already, with as little time as I’ve spent with him, I couldn’t give him up,” Chelsea said, winning Rebecca’s approval.

  “Good for you,” she said with a big smile.

  Jeff gave his fiancée an appreciative smile in the rearview mirror. “I’m glad to hear that, Chelsea.”

  That was a bittersweet moment for Rebecca. She had convinced Joey’s future stepmother that her son was important, which earned Chelsea Jeff’s approval.

  Bill cleared his throat. “Uh, since Joey’s not dining with us, I wondered if maybe you’d like to upgrade a little from hamburgers. I know a good steak place. It’s usually crowded, but since it’s almost nine, maybe they could work us in.”

  “Oh, good,” Chelsea said. “I wasn’t in the mood for a hamburger.”

  Bill laughed. “Somehow I’m not surprised. You always prefer the expensive.”

  “It’s the way she was raised,” Jeff added with a grin.

  “I think Chelsea has the right approach,” Rebecca said staunchly. “You go for the best and then adjust as necessary.”

  “Our ladies are in agreement,” Bill said. “We’re in trouble.”

  THEY LINGERED OVER THEIR meal. Bill offered drinks, but no one took him up on his offer. Life was too perfect as it was. They enjoyed a steak dinner, the meat perfectly cooked, the baked potato just right, and a dinner salad with the right blend of ingredients.

  “That was perfect,” Rebecca said with a sigh. “I like your choice of restaurant, Bill.”

  “Hey, I might have chosen this restaurant,” Jeff protested.

  “And if you had, I would’ve complimented you. But Bill chose the restaurant for us, so I complimented him,” Rebecca said.

  “I accept the compliment. I just stumbled upon it by accident,” he said.

  “Do you eat out a lot?” Chelsea asked.

  “Yeah. After working all day, I’m not much in the mood to cook. Besides, I’m not very good at it.”

  “That must get expensive,” Chelsea said with a frown.

  The two men stared at each other.

  “Should we take her temperature?” Bill asked.

  “Probably. She must be sick to think such a thing,” Jeff returned.

  Chelsea protested, her cheeks bright red.

  “Don’t let them bother you, Chelsea,” Rebecca said softly.

  “I just meant—”

  “We know what you meant,” Bill said, relaxing in his chair. “And you’re right. But if I’m no good in the kitchen, my options are limited.”

  “I was just going to point out that it would be more cost-effective to marry and have a wife who cooks.”

  “Some wives work, too,” Rebecca pointed out.

  “But you said you fixed dinner after working all day,” Chelsea replied.

  “I did for two reasons. I didn’t have enough money to eat out often, and I cooked because it wouldn’t be good for Joey’s diet to eat out all the time.”

  “It’s not good for mine, either,” Bill said. “I’m getting fat.”

  The other three laughed since Bill’s frame was as slender as ever.

  The waiter brought back the receipt from Bill’s credit card. As he signed it, the ladies gathered their purses to leave.

  “This has been so nice,” Chelsea said. “I even enjoyed the conversation.”

  “Well, you should have,” Jeff agreed. “We covered every subject in the book. You had to stay alert to keep up.”

  “But it was fun and so refreshing to have some adult companionship. Joey’s line of conversation may be sweet,” Rebecca said, “but it’s not very intellectual yet or mind-stimulating.”

  “Not even when he wants to know what certain words mean?” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Rebecca blushed. “He’s asked about a couple of those words. The next time he does, I’ll tell him to ask his father.”

  “They start asking difficult questions that young?” Chelsea asked with a gasp. “I thought that wouldn’t happen until maybe middle school.”

  “Oh, no,” Rebecca said with a sigh. “I’ve been told most of those questions come by the fourth grade. They hear other children talking. Our children get an incredible education on the playground or school bus. Just not the education we want for them.”

  “Maybe we should consider private school,” Jeff said.

  “Then they get the same information, only with an attitude,” Chelsea said. “Now that I think about it, I remember things I heard on the playground. But I knew better than to ask my mother what they meant.”

  Bill stood and they began walking out. “Who did you ask, then?” Bill asked, curious.

  “My girlfriends.”

  “But they may not have known the truth. They might have been making up something. You would have never known the difference.” Bill sounded horrified, as if he always got the correct answer to his embarrassing questions.

  “You’re right, they didn’t know,” Chelsea responded with a laugh. “I remember one—oh, no, I can’t say that!” she exclaimed, her cheeks bright red.

  “Can’t say what? Now you have to say it.” Bill said.

  “Never mind. I can assure you I know what it is now.” Chelsea ducked into the back seat before Bill could ask any more questions.

  “Don’t look at me,” Rebecca quickly warned the two men. “I think I’m too young to know what Chelsea is talking about.”

  “Fine talk for a woman who has given birth. Definitely tell Joey to ask me anything anytime,” Jeff advised, a grin on his face.

 
Chapter Eight

  On Monday, when Rebecca reached the office to work, she checked with Harriet to see if Jeff had a full slate of appointments.

  “Why, no, dear, he’s free this afternoon. Mondays aren’t busy days. Do you need to talk to him?”

  “Yes, I think I do.” Rebecca had done a lot of thinking after their Saturday evening adventures. As much as she hated to admit it, both Jeff and Chelsea knew enough about Joey to take him out alone now, without her.

  It seemed to Rebecca that there was something unnatural about the foursome that resulted when she and Bill came along. She’d decided that for her own protection, she’d better bow out of any future evenings like Saturday.

  Rebecca actually thought Chelsea was genuinely nice and intelligent, which didn’t make Rebecca find the foursome any easier. She could admit to herself that she was still in love with Jeff. And the more time she spent with him in intimate settings, even with the other two along, made it harder for her to deal with his future marriage to Chelsea.

  “Rebecca? Jeff said he could see you now.” Harriet stood there smiling at her, and Rebecca had to pull herself together, even though she felt like bursting into tears.

  “Oh, thank you, Harriet. I won’t take up much of his time.”

  Harriet just nodded and went back to work. She was such a dear woman, never interfering in others’ business.

  Rebecca stepped into the office and closed the door behind her before she faced Jeff. He was sitting behind his desk, and she would prefer that he kept it between them.

  “Have a seat, Becca. What’s up?”

  “Nothing, really. I just wanted to tell you that I don’t think I need to accompany Joey every time you want to take him out anymore. Both you and Chelsea are very good with him and could handle him on your own.”

  Instead of responding to her statement, he stood and came around the desk. “You aren’t even going to take a seat to have this conversation?”

  “I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Rebecca said, backing toward the door.

  “Come on, Becca, I think we need to talk about what you just said.”

  “I don’t think so,” she contradicted him. “I need to get back to work.”