The Bad Son (Suddenly a Parent)

by Linda Warren

  Macy looked around. “This has to be a mistake. I didn’t ask for a private room. I can’t afford this.” She glanced at Beau. “Please watch Zoë while I get this straightened out.”

  Beau caught her arm. “It’s fine, Macy. Don’t worry about the room.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Did you ask for a private room?”

  “Yes. It’s the only way you’re going to get any rest.”

  Anger simmered inside her. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  “I know, but I felt…”

  “It’s not up to you,” she said, her voice rising. “I can’t afford this and I don’t need you paying my bills.”

  “Don’t overreact.”

  “And don’t tell me how to act,” she shouted, waking Zoë, who began to cry.

  Macy immediately lifted her out of the crib, cooing to her.

  “Okay,” Beau said, watching them. “I overstepped, but privacy would help you and Zoë. If you insist, you can pay me back.”

  Macy sank into a rocker and Zoë curled up against her. Her anger dissipated as quickly as it had flared. Why did the men in her life have to be so difficult? And why did Beau have to be so nice?

  After that things were strained between them and Macy thought that was just as well. They were getting too comfortable together. But the room was nice, furnished with a cot and a rocker-recliner that made into a bed. Even though the doctor said Zoë was fine, they were both up during the night checking on her.

  The next morning, feeling rested for the first time in months, Macy wanted to thank Beau for the room. But thanking Beau led to other things and she had to steer clear of intimate moments.

  Dr. Cravey checked Zoë once again and released her, saying she wanted to see Zoë in a week.

  Her father stopped by. Macy told him everything was fine and they were headed back to Waco. He held Zoë for the first time and Macy wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Ted seemed so sincere. As he left, he said he’d be in touch and they left it at that. Macy didn’t know if he’d see him again or not. By late afternoon she, Beau and Zoë were on the road headed home.

  They didn’t talk much on the drive, then Beau suddenly asked, “How do feel about seeing your father?”

  As always with Beau, words spilled out. “I have all this resentment for what he did, but seeing him and talking to him I was remembering the good father that he was. I wanted to say so many things, but mostly I just listened. He says he wasn’t having an affair so I’m more confused than ever.”

  “You were very close to Ted,” Beau remarked. “I remember he coached your soccer and Little League teams. And he made all kinds of pens for your animals in the backyard.”

  “Mmm.” Macy glanced back at Zoë who was sleeping in the car seat. On the way to Houston, Macy had sat in the back with her in case she’d stopped breathing. “I guess I was the boy he never had. Delia never liked sports of any kind and she hated my pets, including my turtle and fish. She especially hated my dogs and cats in her room.”

  “Not to mention the raccoon and possum,” Beau teased.

  “Grandma Jane lived on several acres and my friend Tanya and I always loved to explore. We found them caught in a neighbors trap in the woods. After the vet made sure they didn’t have rabies, Dad and I kept them in a cage until we could let them back out into the wild.”

  “I remember thinking that no one had a raccoon or a possum for a pet but Macy Randall.”

  “Did you think I was nuts?”

  He screwed up his face in thought.

  She slapped at his shoulder playfully. “Don’t answer that.” She relaxed in her seat. “Dad and I had a special connection, but he and Delia never seemed to connect on any level.”

  “Few people connect with Delia. And I’m one of those people who tried.”

  Beau had had his run-ins with Delia. She’d been told repeatedly that she couldn’t ride her bike in the street. One day Beau turned the corner and almost ran into her. He gave her a good scolding and told Irene and Ted. Delia, in retaliation, threw mud at Beau’s car. Andrew had seen her from his study so she couldn’t lie her way out of it. Ted had paid to have the car cleaned, but he could never get Delia to apologize.

  “I don’t believe Delia is ever going to change,” Macy admitted. “And I’m worried about her caring for Zoë.”

  “You might prepare for the long haul.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “This is only temporary. Zoë is Delia’s child, not mine.”

  Beau gave her a puzzled glance as he negotiated traffic, but he didn’t say anything.

  That was just as well. She wasn’t sure why she was so adamant, but it had something to do with protecting her heart. As long as the arrangement was temporary she could deal with losing Zoë. Once she let herself believe that Zoë could be hers, the parting would devastate her. She’d lost one child and she couldn’t recover from that kind of loss again.

  They rode in comfortable silence for a while. “I’m sorry I upset you about the room,” Beau said.

  “I’m sorry I overreacted. But, please, don’t do that again. Don’t try to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

  “But…”

  “No buts.” She turned in the seat to face him. “The extra expense is going to put an even bigger strain on my finances—something I didn’t need right now.”

  “It was a gift, Macy. Look at it that way.”

  “I will pay you back.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you don’t accept gifts graciously?”

  “You can’t fix everyone’s problems,” she told him. “You’re a perpetual caregiver to your family, to me. It’s time you started thinking about yourself.”

  “I have, but I hit a brick wall.”

  The words hung between them and she refused to answer him. He was referring to his declaration of love that she couldn’t accept.

  They passed the rest of the trip in silence and Macy was glad to see the cul-de-sac. She carried Zoë inside while Beau grabbed the rest of their things.

  She saw the bag of clothes Beau had bought her. Her first instinct was to give them back, but that would hurt him and she found she couldn’t do it. She would accept this gift graciously.

  Laying Zoë in the bassinet, she turned to Beau. “Do you mind staying with Zoë while I go to the kennel to collect my pets?” She hated to ask a favor, but she knew her guys were anxious to come home and she didn’t want them to think she’d deserted them.

  “Sure. Take your time.”

  Macy flew out the door and Beau sat on the sofa, pulling the bassinet closer.

  “Hey there, little angel,” he said to Zoë. “Glad to be home?”

  Zoë kicked her feet and waved her hands in response.

  “I screwed up big time with your aunt. I take one step forward and about ten backward. Not sure about much of anything anymore, but I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

  Zoë started to cry.

  “You hear my voice and you want to be held, don’t you?”

  She cried louder and he immediately picked her up, not wanting any damage to be done to her throat. As soon as he laid Zoë on his shoulder, she stopped crying.

  “Oh, yeah, you’ve become a rotten egg.” He patted her back. “Little angel, disciplining you will be about the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  Except walking away from Macy.

  That was still in the cards. She hadn’t relented in her stance on their relationship, but she had kissed him. A kiss that he could still taste and feel. He wasn’t walking away until he knew for certain there was no future for them.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS were awkward and Macy seemed not to want Beau around. So he gave her her space for now. He had dinner with his parents and went to one of Ben’s games. With Zoë needing his attention, he’d only been able to make a couple. Ben didn’t get to play much, but he was happy to have a uniform and to be with the other kids.

  Beau called a brothers’
meeting.

  “Here’s to us all back together again,” Jake said, raising his beer bottle.

  They clicked their bottles together.

  “I’m here under protest,” Eli said. “Caroline basically kicked me out of the house.”

  “She did not,” Tuck said. “She thought you needed to get out.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Eli’s having birthing pains a little early.” Tuck took a swig from the bottle.

  “Wait until she’s in labor screaming her head off,” Jake said. “You’ll…”

  “Don’t tell him.” Tuck stopped Jake. “He’s paranoid enough.”

  “How’s Zoë?” Caleb asked, wisely steering the conversation in another direction.

  “Much better,” Beau replied. “Breathing like an angel, but we’ve spoiled her and now she just wants to be held.”

  “Are you still helping Macy?”

  “Now that’s a loaded question,” Jake said.

  “I’m giving her her space at the moment.” He looked at Caleb. “Anything new on Delia?”

  “Delia’s worked on and off as a waitress in one of the casino’s restaurants. The manager said when she’s short of money or looking for a new boyfriend, she’ll come in wanting a job. I told him to give me a call if she ever showed up. In case he forgets, I’ll keep calling him so he knows I mean business. But other than that, I don’t have a thing.”

  “Thanks, Caleb. Let’s hope the guy calls.”

  Eli stood. “I really have to get going.”

  “Me, too,” Caleb said. “Josie’s home by now.”

  “Good to have you back, little brother.” Jake patted his back. “I’ve got to go, too.”

  That left Tuck and Beau, the two bachelors. Tuck eyed him. “If you want to go, you can. I know you’re thinking about her.”

  “Nah. How about a game of pool?”

  “Sure.”

  As they walked toward the poolroom, Beau wondered if he and Tuck were destined to be lonely forever.

  It was almost eleven when he drove into his garage. Macy’s light was on, but he didn’t go over. Absence might make the heart grow fonder—or at least become more understanding.

  BEAU STILL HADN’T gone back to work. He kept tabs on the office through Liz and he checked in from time to time to go over cases with his colleagues. Although he enjoyed his work, he also enjoyed this time away. But he’d have to return soon.

  He decided to cook dinner for Macy. He’d grilled chicken breasts and vegetables, then made a salad because he knew that’s what she liked. Donuts were on the counter for dessert. That was the extent of his culinary skills in the dessert department.

  At five he went over to Macy’s. It was the beginning of June and the weather was warm so he wore denim shorts, a T-shirt and flip-flops.

  Macy opened the door. “Beau.” She seemed surprised.

  He walked in and picked up Zoë who was in a playpen—a new purchase, as was the crib in Macy’s bedroom. Zoë had outgrown the bassinet.

  “Hey, munchkin.” Lucky and Lefty came to investigate.

  Zoë held her head up very well now and she smiled a toothless grin, her hands slapping at his face.

  “How’s she doing?” he asked.

  “Great. No problem with her breathing and she’s taking the bottle better. She actually slept for six hours last night.”

  “Wow. That calls for a celebration.”

  Macy’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “You ladies, pets included, are invited for dinner. All I have to do is put the chicken breasts on the grill.”

  “Beau…”

  “I won’t take no for an answer.” He handed her Zoë and began to fold up the playpen. Lucky and Lefty licked his hands and he bent down to pat them.

  “I need to change.”

  She was wearing white shorts and a light blue tank top. It had rained earlier and the humidity had turned her hair into frizzy curls. She looked wonderful, though. Her skin glowed, her eyes sparkled and she looked rested. “Why? We’re just going next door.”

  Before she could protest further, he headed them toward his place. The dogs were excited to be there, yelping for treats. Freckles curled up in the windowsill.

  Macy watched Beau giving the dogs treats and realized she should have said no more strongly, but she’d missed him so much. She hadn’t seen him in two days. She missed everything about him—his kindness, his gentleness, his sense of humor and his presence in her life. She was trying very hard to be strong, but lately she could feel herself weakening.

  Beau knew everything about her, the good and the bad. But did he love her enough to live without children? That one thing kept her backing off.

  Beau brought her a glass of wine. “Sit down and relax. Zoë’s occupying herself.” Zoë was enthralled with the patterns on the quilt at the bottom of the playpen. “The dogs are fed and dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

  She curled her feet beneath her on the sofa, sipping the wine. “Evidently you haven’t gone back to work.”

  “No. Probably next week,” he replied.

  “I talked to my supervisor and I go back to work next Monday. My mother said she’d come and watch Zoë Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, the days that I work. But that doesn’t solve the problem of a babysitter for later. Mrs. Pruett, across the street, said she’d love to keep Zoë.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Mrs. Pruett is seventy-five years old.”

  “She can still take care of a baby.”

  He shook his head. “No, no. I’ll take care of Zoë. She’s used to me.”

  “You have to go back to work,” she reminded him.

  His lips twitched. “I’m the boss. I can work around your schedule.”

  “Beau…”

  A timer went off in the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Macy let the issue slide for now. She was tired of always being the bad person. The wine relaxed her and she didn’t allow other thoughts to intrude. They laughed and talked like they usually did.

  “So you’re getting along better with your mom?” he asked, pouring her more wine with dinner.

  “At first she didn’t seem too concerned about Delia or the baby, but now she does.”

  “And your father. Have you heard any more from him?”

  “He’s called several times. He wants me to meet his wife.”

  Beau stopped in the process of serving the chicken breasts and vegetables. “You’ve never met his wife?”

  “No. Delia has, but I just couldn’t meet this woman who I thought had broken up our home.”

  “What do you think now?”

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I think I’m getting too old to be petulant about the breakup. It happened and I need to get over it.”

  “And not blame yourself.”

  Her head jerked up. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I know you. Also, I’ve had similar feelings.”

  “About your father?” Macy knew about his issues with Joe McCain. They’d talked about it many times.

  Beau took a swallow of wine. “Yeah. I felt it was my fault Jake chose to stay with our father when our parents divorced. I should have tried to talk him out of it, but I was eight years old and scared to death of my father. As I watched my mother grieve for her eldest son, I knew it was all my fault. I felt like the bad son my father called me. Maybe that’s why I try so hard at family unity, in my job and in my life. Maybe I need to prove over and over that I am good.”

  She placed a hand over her heart, her eyes soft. “You never have to try to be good. It’s in here and it goes all the way down to your soul.”

  “Thanks.” He felt warm all over from her sincere words. “Sometimes, though, it’s hard to forget his words and I think I subconsciously overcompensate the nice-guy role.”

  “Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Good is who you are, Beau. Don’t you know that by now? Joe McCain didn’t deserve a son like you.”

&nbs
p; He toyed with his glass. “You could be prejudiced.”

  She held up her glass, her eyes glowing. “Nope. It’s the absolute truth.”

  The warmth in her eyes let him believe. “Maybe,” he conceded. “In my teens, Mom told me the whole story and I knew I wasn’t the reason for her heartache, or the divorce, or for Jake staying with Joe.”

  “Did you work so hard to get Jake back into the family because you felt guilty?”

  “Partly. I definitely wanted my brother back in my life. It took years because he’s stubborn as an ox, but we’re finally a family—even Eli is now one of us.”

  “Only a very good person would keep trying.”

  He looked into her eyes and knew that was true.

  “No more talk about the bad son,” she said, and got to her feet. She took her plate to the sink. “The Randalls will never be a family again because my parents aren’t willing to share what really happened. So be happy about your role in getting the McCains back together.”

  Beau met her at the sink with his plate. “Talking always helps.”

  Unable to resist, she touched the lean lines of his face. “You believe in talking. I could see it in your eyes when we were in Houston and my father wanted to see me. That look made me give in.”

  “I’m glad. You needed to talk to him.” He caught her hand and held it. “And we need to talk, too.”

  A wail pierced the pregnant pause. Macy pulled away to go to Zoë. Perfect timing, she thought. There was nothing to talk about. He thought one way and she another. But could there be a compromise?

  She fed Zoë while Beau puts dishes in the dishwasher. Repleted, the baby fell asleep and Macy tucked her into the playpen.

  “Dessert,” Beau said, setting donuts on the coffee table.

  “Beau…”

  He handed her another glass of wine. Why not, she thought. She curled her feet beneath her and ate to her heart’s content.

  “Delicious.” She licked her fingers and reached for the wine. Feeling warm inside, she smiled at Beau. His eyes were dark and sensuous, igniting a fluttering in her lower abdomen.