A Mother's Claim

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Finally, he said, “In a manner of speaking, we are now.”

  Wow. She blinked. That was a thought. He was Dad, and she was Mom. In a manner of speaking.

  “I...suppose so.” She pondered that. “Does that mean you won’t listen when I express my preferences?”

  A grin caught her off guard, humor in his eyes. “I’ll listen.”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle, too. “But you’ll do whatever you want, anyway.”

  His face sobered, and she had another of those moments when she had no idea what he was thinking. “Want?” he said slowly. “Probably not. What I think you need? That’s different.”

  “What I need is to spend time with my son.” If she sounded sharp, who cared?

  “I told you before, pushing will backfire.”

  “Have I pushed?” she shot back.

  “Since you announced you were moving to Lookout, you mean?”

  They stared at each other, hostilities momentarily renewed.

  Then he sighed. “No, you’ve been patient. He’ll come around, Dana. He...talks about you, a little.”

  A little. Wasn’t that heartwarming? But she said, “Good or bad?”

  “Uncertain, but more positive lately.” He hesitated. “He’s struggling with what you mean to him, but he admitted that he was glad that you hadn’t given up on him.”

  Around a lump in her throat, she said, “Thank you for telling me that.”

  Nolan nodded.

  Their salads and the bottle of wine he’d ordered arrived. The balsamic dressing on her salad was good, the wine even better. It crossed her mind that she might not have shared Craig’s taste in wine.

  “Your parents planning a visit?” Nolan asked, sounding casual.

  “Yes, when I say it’s okay. There’s no point in them coming if Christian isn’t interested.”

  “This is a pretty time of year here, though.”

  “It is.” She smiled at him. “Still too chilly to make windsurfing look fun.”

  He laughed. “Water stays cold year round. And the gusts right now are exhilarating.”

  “Do you ever have a chance to go out?” she asked.

  He made a grumbly sound. “Not very often. The more successful Wind & Waves gets, the less time for recreation I have. Plus, there’s Christian.”

  “And now me.”

  “You haven’t taken a lot of my time yet.” Unreadable emotion crossed his face. “I imagine that’ll change.”

  “Why? I could take Christian off your hands sometimes and free you up.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think that’s the way it’ll happen.”

  Was that amusement crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes? She studied him suspiciously. Why would what he’d just said amuse him?

  “I can never tell what you’re thinking,” she complained.

  He laughed. “Good.”

  Once their entrées arrived, he started talking about his family without her having to ask. His dad had owned a service station and automobile repair shop. His mother worked for an insurance agent.

  “I can rebuild an engine but had zero interest in doing that kind of work for forty years. I was the first in the family to go to college. Mom was a sharp lady. She should have gotten an education, but I don’t think her parents encouraged her. She grew up on a ranch in a town that’s a dot on the map near La Grande, in eastern Oregon. She met my father at a rodeo he’d gone to with some friends.” Smiling, he shook his head. “Not sure what he was doing there, since I doubt he ever threw his leg over a horse’s back in his life. Mom took a big chance and ran away to marry him.”

  His gentle affection didn’t surprise Dana. This was a man who put family first. He had reshaped his life for the sake of his troubled sister and the boy he’d believed to be his sister’s son.

  “Christian must miss them.”

  Nolan took a swallow of wine. “Yeah.” He cleared the roughness from his voice. “They were always there for him. They were his parents, as much or more than Marlee was.”

  “I wish I could have met them. Thanked them.”

  He contemplated her for a minute. “They’d have liked you.”

  “I... That’s nice of you to say.”

  With a crooked smile, he said, “I like you.”

  “Oh.”

  He laughed again. “You’re supposed to say, ‘I thought I’d hate you, but turns out I like you, too.’”

  Chuckling, she said, “What you said.”

  She let him persuade her to order dessert. Both had berry cobbler à la mode, which was amazing. She’d better find a good place to run soon, or she’d be in trouble. Her appreciation for food had sprung back to life.

  She was savoring a bite when Nolan said, a little gruffly, “You do have a right to know about Marlee. None of us would be where we are if it weren’t for her.”

  “No.” If Gabriel had never been taken, Dana had to wonder what her life would have been like. Would she and Craig have stayed happily married, had another baby? Maybe he’d never have become as ruthless as he sounded now. Or maybe they’d have been long divorced. Who knew?

  “She was a sweet, sassy little girl,” Nolan began, his tone odd, as if he hadn’t let himself think about her like this in a long time. He must carry his share of anger. “Thinking back, she was always a little different.”

  Looking out the window, as if he was seeing the past, he described a girl who’d insisted on wearing clothing that never matched and grew even more eccentric when she reached her teenage years. She’d had friends, until the real strangeness emerged in her midteens.

  “She was never the student I was. Her interests jumped from one thing to another, never lasting long. The school recommended she be tested for attention deficit disorder, but I guess that label didn’t fit her. Later, of course, we knew why.”

  Marlee had always been creative, he said. “The art teacher loved her. She designed a mural for the wall of the gymnasium that’s still there.” Nolan’s eyes focused on Dana. “You might want to go see it. It’s this explosion of color and joy and—” he seemed to think about it “—maybe some shadows we should have noticed.”

  His fingers contracted, not quite into a fist. Dana almost reached for his hand, the impulse taking her by surprise. She didn’t do a lot of touching anymore. She was probably the last person from whom he’d accept comfort, anyway.

  “It would be so hard as a parent to accept that your dreams for your child would never be fulfilled.” She kept her voice quiet, in keeping with his mood.

  “Yeah.” Suddenly he rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, it hit Mom and Dad hard. She had gotten into drugs by high school. She might have been self-medicating, even if she didn’t know that’s what she was doing. A lot of mentally ill people living on the street use booze and drugs to drown out confusion and anxiety and, in Marlee’s case, voices.”

  Startled, Dana said, “She really heard voices?”

  “So she said.” His tone had become wry. “We were never sure. The voices had a way of telling her to do what she wanted to do anyway, which made Mom and Dad suspicious.”

  “I can see that, but...”

  Nolan nodded. “She was diagnosed as schizophrenic, and the medications did help. When she was willing to take them.”

  “I’ve had clients who seemed to be doing so well, until one day...” She spread her hands.

  “That was Marlee. The frustrating thing was, she could be so lovable. Her vulnerability was right out there. It made people want to take care of her. But then she’d get to feeling trapped, and she couldn’t bear it, so she’d bolt. Disappear. Sometimes just for a few days, sometimes for weeks or months. She’d call now and again, even email sometimes when she’d find a roost where she had access to a computer.” Regret deepened lin
es in his craggy face. “She’d been gone for almost a year when she showed up with Christian. I think once she got her hands on him, she realized she didn’t have a clue. My parents attributed her clumsiness with him to her mental illness. It didn’t occur to any of us that she might have only had him a matter of days. That he didn’t know her, and she didn’t know him.”

  Anger swelled in Dana, but Nolan’s openness and, yes, his regret, kept the crest from being as high or as violent. She couldn’t blame his parents or him. How could they have guessed the dreadful truth?

  “The birthday she gave was off by less than a month.” The words just popped out of her mouth. It had bothered her terribly when she realized her son had celebrated every birthday for eleven years on the wrong day. A sudden fear stabbed her like a thorn. “Is he... Will he accept his real birthday?” It was only a little over two months away. He’d been born in July, not August as he had believed.

  “We haven’t talked about that yet. Celebrating on his real birthday will mean telling all his friends the truth.”

  Reeling from the blow, she whispered, “You mean...he hasn’t?” Nobody here in town but Nolan and Christian knew? Well, and her coworkers, but she hadn’t told them the name he was going by.

  “That’s...one of the things he doesn’t seem ready to do yet.” Pity softened Nolan’s often stern face.

  “If he hasn’t told anyone—” she faltered “—he has no way to explain me.”

  Silence.

  Hurt congealed into something harder. “How can he be seen with me if he can’t explain me?”

  “He’ll get there,” Nolan said, in the deep voice that made her want to believe anything he said.

  But this...she suddenly didn’t believe.

  She met his eyes. “Will he?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  DANA HADN’T HEARD from either Christian or Nolan by the time she arrived home Friday after work. She decided she’d do the calling.

  When Nolan answered, she said briskly, “Hi, this is Dana. May I speak to Christian?”

  “Dana. I’ll have to go find him.”

  He didn’t sound annoyed, but neither was he glad to hear from her. Wednesday evening, she’d almost thought he might kiss her good-night. Wishful thinking—No, no! They had achieved some closeness, that was all. Well, until he spoiled it by telling her that he and Christian weren’t yet owning up to her existence.

  “Uh, hi.”

  “Hi, Christian. I hope you had a good week at school.” She cringed. Like any self-respecting kid would feel anything but incredulity at a remark like that.

  Silence. Then a mumbled “It was okay.”

  “I actually called to find out if you’d like a very, very part-time job. I bought a lawn mower this week, but I really hate mowing. If you’re interested, I’ll pay you—” She managed a laugh. “Under the table, of course. It could be a good weekend—”

  He sliced her off. “I work for Uncle Nolan on the weekend.”

  “I see.”

  “I guess I could do it after school some day.”

  “But I wouldn’t be home to let you into the garage or—” She didn’t finish. He wouldn’t appreciate knowing she felt she ought to be supervising, given his age and the fact that the job involved sharp blades.

  He didn’t say anything.

  “I... Let me think about this.”

  “Okay. Well, bye.” And he was gone.

  A small sound escaped her, one she didn’t recognize. She’d been sitting on the sofa; now she lifted her feet to the cushion, wrapped her arms around her lower legs and rested her forehead on her knees. She stayed that way for long minutes, wishing she could disappear.

  Eventually, common sense pointed out that this was a setback, that’s all. A minor one, at that. Christian resented her attempt to intrude on his time with Nolan. And had she really expected a boy his age to willingly chat on the phone?

  Dana’s body gradually loosened. She ought to think about dinner, but her newly awakened appetite was missing again. So—a salad. She could do that.

  If Craig calls, what do I tell him?

  She could lie.

  When her phone chose that moment to ring, she jolted. Please, not Craig, she begged. The number was her parents’.

  “Dad,” she said after her father identified himself. Tears threatened. She remembered what Nolan had said. If I’d been one of them, I’d have come along whether you liked it or not. A small part of her wanted to say, Daddy, I wish you were here. Please come.

  The rest of her wanted to hide her bout of self-pity.

  She burbled about how exciting her new job was, telling him how much she liked her coworkers and how Meghan had asked her to come along on the Hood River Railroad excursion next weekend. Oh, and how cute her house was and how she’d already bought a new lawn mower and gotten it running although she hadn’t actually mowed yet.

  Her father made encouraging noises. Not until she wound down did he say quietly, “Gabriel?”

  She hadn’t heard or thought that name in too long. The burning in her chest intensified. “Last week was good.” She had to swallow a couple of times to strengthen her voice. “He... I told you about him coming to see me, didn’t I?”

  “You did,” he said, just as gently.

  She described spending the day at Wind & Waves and what fun she’d had. Told him about going out for pizza afterward. “This week, I haven’t seen him at all.”

  “Either of them?”

  “Nolan took me to dinner one night. I think we’re—” what? “—achieving an understanding.” Yes, that worked.

  “And yet he’s kept Gabriel away from you.” Her father’s anger came rarely, but she heard it now.

  “I don’t think it’s him,” she admitted. “I think it’s Chris—Gabe. He’s not so sure he wants another mother.”

  “You’re not another. You’re his mother.”

  “It’s hard for him.”

  He sighed. “I do know that.” After a pause, he said, “Your mother and I are really looking forward to seeing him.”

  “I know. Right now—” she hated to say this but had to “—I’m not sure you would see him. Let’s give it a few weeks. Wouldn’t it be better for you to take time off once school has let out anyway?”

  “Maybe. All right. I love you, you know.”

  She smiled with difficulty, suddenly aware her cheeks were wet. “I know. And you know I love you.”

  “None of us say it often enough.” She could hear his smile in his voice. “Your mom is grabbing for the phone.”

  Hearing the muffled protest and her father’s laugh, her own smile became real.

  * * *

  “WHAT WAS THAT all about?” Uncle Nolan asked with what sounded like mild curiosity, lowering his newspaper.

  Christian stared at him. Why was he even pretending he hadn’t listened to every word?

  “She wants me to mow her lawn. On weekends. I told her no.”

  “She offer to pay you?”

  Christian shrugged.

  “Might be nice to pick up a few extra bucks.”

  “I said I’d do it after school. She didn’t like that.”

  Nolan didn’t say anything. Since the accident with the ax, he didn’t let Christian use anything sharp or mechanized when he wasn’t home, which made Christian mad. He and Jason had been playing around, and they shouldn’t have. So that meant he wasn’t trustworthy forever?

  “What do you say we invite her to join us again tomorrow? She was a big help last week.”

  After last Saturday, Christian had thought maybe it would be cool if she came again, someday. But it didn’t have to be every week, did it? “We don’t need her.”

  Uncle Nolan’s eyebrows went up. “No, we don’t. But she move
d out here so she could spend some time with you. Seems like lately you’ve resisted my every suggestion.”

  Still standing, Christian curled his hands into fists. “So now I have to see her even if I don’t want to?”

  “She’s a part of your life.” His uncle suddenly sounded hard. “You need to accept that.”

  Christian didn’t know why he felt so mad, just that he did. “You said you’d fight for me.”

  Uncle Nolan pushed the newspaper aside and clasped his hands behind his neck, his gaze steady. “You’re still living with me, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe you wish I wasn’t!” It burst out of him, like...like steam out of the teapot when the water boiled. He was boiling. “Or maybe you like her. You think she’s going to be your girlfriend instead of Ellie?”

  His uncle didn’t move. “What do you know about Ellie?”

  “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “No.” He sounded tired. “I think you sound like a brat. I’ve done nothing to deserve having you talk to me like this. Ellie is none of your business. I will say, she’s not my girlfriend. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Quinn says she’s your fu—”

  Nolan was on his feet so fast the word died unborn. Christian shuffled backward.

  “You will not use that word. Do you hear me?”

  He didn’t even recognize this man, eyes narrowed, mouth thinned. Scared and mad and almost crying, Christian yelled, “Yes!”

  “Quinn is not welcome in this house until I say otherwise.”

  Christian opened and closed his mouth.

  “Go to your room.” Sounding disgusted, Uncle Nolan turned away as if Christian wasn’t worth his time. He folded the newspaper and started for the kitchen.

  Christian couldn’t seem to move. He was frozen. “But...tomorrow...” He was practically whispering.

  Uncle Nolan stopped, his back to Christian. “Right now you’re not acting like the kid I know and love. I’m hoping he’ll reappear tomorrow morning. I don’t want to see you until then.” And then he kept walking.

  Christian tore up the stairs.