A Mother's Conviction (Secrets Series Book 3)

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A Mother's Conviction (Secrets Series Book 3) Page 8

by Karen Lenfestey


  The door behind him opened a crack.

  Bella stood there in her turquoise nightgown and bunny slippers. “Daddy? I’m scared.” She stared up at him with those big blue eyes that melted his heart. And to think, a few hours ago, he’d been worried about her growing up too fast.

  “I’ll be right in. Pick out a story for me to read.” He watched her close the door and returned his focus to Frankie. “So, are we good? You’re not gonna call social services on me, are you?”

  Frankie stroked his beard. “Promise me you’ll keep a better eye on her?”

  “Promise. She’s all I’ve got. I’d do anything for her.”

  “All right. I don’t see the point in dragging social services into this. Like you said, there isn’t a law about what age a child can be left alone. It’s up to a parent’s judgment.”

  Conner shook his hand. “Thanks, Frankie. I owe ya one.”

  “Just don’t tell anybody about that stink bomb and we’re even.”

  # # #

  No, Bethany did not want to put money into Gola’s account. She didn’t want to do anything to make that woman’s life easier. So, she’d said “Sorry, I can’t” and hoped in vain that would be the end of their contact.

  A few nights later, Bethany snuggled against Parker’s chest as the credits rolled on the sci-fi movie they’d rented. The flames in the brick fireplace crackled and warmed the room. She stretched up and kissed her boyfriend’s clean-shaven cheek.

  He reached for the remote. “I can’t believe you’d rather watch that than a romantic comedy.”

  Giggling, she smiled. “I’d watch anything with you.” She loved cuddling with him on his soft leather couch. Ever since she’d become a foster parent, their one-on-one time had become limited. When she’d first brought Willow to live with her, he’d kept his distance. But then she’d bought the brick house and asked him to assemble the playset in her backyard. After spending a week on that, he and Willow had fallen for each other.

  About once a week, the three of them had dinner together, making Wednesday nights the only time Beth and Parker spent alone together. Even so, she’d noticed he’d been sneaking glances at an Entrepreneur magazine throughout the movie. “Are you still glad you stepped down as president of Mall Land?”

  “I think it was the responsible thing to do—especially since rumors of me being a drunk were starting. But I get bored. You’re busy with Willow and I have my charities, but sometimes I end up watching daytime TV which makes me want to shoot myself.” He grinned so she knew he was kidding.

  “Soap operas and talk shows. Been there. It’s the worst part of taking a sick day.”

  Noticing some papers sticking out of her purse, she reached down and pulled them. She handed him the glossy pamphlets profiling potential adoptive families. “Hannah sent me information on some of the families that she’s considering. They all sound wonderful on paper, but I suppose everyone does. What I can’t decide is should she choose an infertile couple that would shower her baby with love or a family that already has children so the baby would have siblings.”

  “Well, you were an only child. Did you like it?”

  Shrugging, she considered her youth. “We relocated whenever a new church needed my dad to be their minister. It would’ve been easier if I’d had a sister or brother to play with when we moved to a new town.” She studied the family profile with kids adopted from different backgrounds: a Chinese girl, a Haitian boy, an East Indian girl, a boy with Downs’ syndrome and another boy with cerebral palsy. These parents were very compassionate and religious, but Beth worried they also had their hands full. “I have to wonder if the reason I’m so close to my mother is because I was an only child. I wouldn’t want that to be any different.” She smiled to herself.

  He nodded and glanced through the profiles. “It’s not easy figuring out what kids need.”

  “Tell me about it. I still don’t know what to do about Willow’s mom. What am I going to do if she gets paroled and takes Willow away?”

  Putting down the papers, he looked at her with kindness in his brown eyes. “As a foster parent, you knew that was a possibility.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I thought I had years before it would happen.” She paused and tried to process the unexpected turn of events. “If Gola really has her act together, I suppose it would be only fair that Willow lives with her.”

  “Fair?”

  “Well, none of what’s happened to Willow is fair, but. . .I don’t think she even remembers all of the bad stuff. Maybe that’s for the best. I don’t know. How do I know if the woman has changed or if she’s going to neglect Willow? How can I just walk away and not know that Willow is safe? That she’s happy?”

  “Surely you can stay in contact with her even after she goes back to live with her mother.”

  Beth chewed on her lip. “I hope so.” Thinking of the letter she still hadn’t shared with Willow, she took a deep breath. “I can’t believe Gola might be getting out soon. I should tell Willow, try to prepare her.”

  “Yes, you should.” He kissed her crown. “I’m sorry. You have such a big heart and this must be difficult. Is there anything I can do?”

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything anyone could do.

  # # #

  As Melodie waited with Zoe for the bus, she eyed the mailbox. She’d forgotten to check it yesterday.

  “Bella!” Zoe cheered as her new friend approached.

  Sensing the presence of another adult, Melodie looked up and saw Conner escorting Bella to the bus stop. She watched as Zoe and Bella hugged. Unfortunately, the bus pulled up just then and the girls left Melodie alone with her neighbor.

  Ignoring him, she opened the mailbox. There was a letter from the bank marked “Urgent” and an LL Bean catalog in Paul’s name. She closed her eyes briefly and stomped down the sadness. It was these unexpected reminders of her dead husband that pricked her emotions so easily.

  Conner shuffled his feet. “You know the difference between a lawyer and God? God doesn’t think he’s a lawyer.”

  “Ha, ha.” She turned away from him. The last thing she needed today was to talk to her ungrateful, judgmental neighbor.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, a note of sincerity in his voice.

  “Nothing.”

  “The expression on your face fell. Is something wrong?”

  “Just a reminder that I’d better get the job I’m interviewing for today.” Even though she knew she wouldn’t.

  “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  “Why would they hire someone like me who has a kid she wants to get home to when they could hire someone fresh out of law school willing to give their life to the firm?”

  “Because you have experience?”

  Shaking her head, she walked back to her house. Once inside, she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She tossed the catalog with Paul’s name into the trash and did her morning ritual with the vacuum cleaner. Then she went on the front porch to sweep the leaves that had started collecting there. Keeping busy was her best defense against her grief and her insecurity about this afternoon.

  The roar of a motorcycle came from Conner’s place and she rolled her eyes. “Must be nice to never grow up.” She sighed and kept sweeping. He could do whatever he wanted all day while his daughter was in school. He didn’t have a mortgage or a job or anything to bring him down. The truth was, she was a bit jealous.

  The sound of the motorcycle grew louder and she turned to see him pull into her driveway. He clicked the key off and removed his helmet. Every time he did that, her breath caught in her throat. Dark hair, square, stubbly jaw and blue-gray eyes. It was a haunting combination. She started sweeping again so he didn’t notice her innate reaction.

  His boots crunched on the gravel as he approached her. “You know what I do when I’m feeling stressed?”

  She wrapped her hands around the broom handle as if it were propping her up. “Go for a ride?”

  “Exactly. Ther
e’s nothing like it to clear my head.”

  “Well, good for you.”

  “Wanna come?”

  “No. You know what lawyers call a person who rides a motorcycle, don’t you?”

  He smiled his crooked smile. “What?”

  “A down payment on a beach house.”

  His smile lingered. “I’ll let you wear the helmet. Statistically speaking, it’s safer than riding in an airplane.”

  “You’re just making that up. Hey, what was wrong with you yesterday? I helped you out when you were in a bind and you acted like I did something wrong.”

  His Adam’s apple dipped. “Come with me and I’ll explain.”

  Her gaze landed on his motorcycle. It looked massive and intimidating. “I don’t think so. I’ve got that interview to prepare for.” But she didn’t really want to worry about it any longer. She needed to keep busy.

  “When’s the interview?”

  “Two o’clock.”

  “That’s plenty of time. Come on. I’ve got the cure for your blues right here.”

  Was he talking about the bike or himself? Her cheeks warmed. She hadn’t even thought about another man since Paul had passed. Now she was tempted by somebody who was his complete opposite? It didn’t make sense.

  She leaned the broom against her front door and crossed her arms. “I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before.”

  He reached out his palm. “It’s easy.”

  Ignoring his hand, she walked toward the silver bike and surveyed it. It was big and shiny with the word Kawasaki on it. Was she really too scared to try something new? How hard could it be? "I guess I could go for a short ride.”

  “You’re gonna have to let your hair down.”

  At first she thought he was speaking a cliché, but then she realized the helmet wouldn’t fit over her bun. She pulled out the bobby pins that she automatically placed in her hair every morning. After she shook her locks loose, she stuck the pins in her pocket.

  He helped her put on the helmet then slung his jean-clad leg over the seat. After she climbed on, she kept a few inches between him and her. He grabbed her hands and pulled them around his waist. “You’ve got to hold on tight.”

  Her heart thumped wildly as she inhaled his masculine scent of leather and testosterone.

  After revving the engine, he sped off down the road and her stomach leapt into her throat. She was pressing her body up against a man’s back and she could feel the firmness of his torso. The wind whipped across her body making it hard to hear anything. She watched the river beside them fly by and she heard herself laugh. A laugh she hadn’t expected. “This is fun!”

  Nodding, he cranked something on the handles and took it up a notch. Beside her, the river gave way to farmer’s fields, golden and brown, ready for the end of the season. They rode and rode, hardly ever passing another vehicle. It was as if they owned the road. She clung to Conner’s body. This was the best feeling! No wonder people rode motorcycles at the first signs of spring and waited until the snow to park them in their garages. This was better than riding in a convertible. She couldn’t even put it into words. She just enjoyed the rushing scenery.

  Who knows how long they rode for? Eventually, Conner pulled off in a wooded area miles away from home. “What do you think?”

  Feeling a little warm, she took off the helmet. “That was amazing!”

  He smiled back at her. “Think you’re ready for your interview?”

  “Interview? What interview?” It had been forever since she’d grinned like this and her cheeks hurt.

  “A girl after my own heart.” He climbed off and reached into the small storage area on the back of the bike. He pulled out a paper bag. “Ready for lunch?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” Her heart felt lighter than air. “You packed us a picnic?”

  “Sure.” He waved for her to follow him through the woods. They eventually found a clearing that revealed a tiny waterfall. They sat on a large flat rock and he pulled out submarine sandwiches wrapped in saran wrap.

  “What’s on the menu today, Chef Conner?”

  He handed her one. “Supremo salami and ham with Jarlsberg cheese.”

  She took a bite and couldn’t believe how the flavors danced along her tongue. “I didn’t know a sandwich could taste so good.” The tomato mixed with fresh basil reminded her a little of pizza.

  After they finished, he handed her one of his Halloween candy cookies. “So, I wanted to say I’m sorry about how I acted yesterday.”

  “I want you to know that normally I don’t let Zoe play with make-up, but I figure every once in a while, it can’t hurt.”

  “So you’re not one of those crazy pageant moms?”

  “Absolutely not. Zoe is probably going to be twenty before I’ll be okay with her wearing make-up outside of the house.”

  He took a deep breath. “I know what you mean. I can’t believe how quickly Bella’s growing up. When I saw her wearing lipstick, well, I panicked. It reminded me of what she’s missing by not having a mother. It’s not like I can teach her about lipstick or how to be a girl.”

  “You don’t have to teach her how to be a girl. Just teach her how to be a kind, honest and strong human being.” She sat there for a few minutes and couldn’t help but wonder. “What happened to her mother anyway?”

  He threw the last bite of his sandwich into the woods. “I don’t want to talk about her. She wasn’t like you. She was a bad mother.”

  She cocked her head and studied him. “Sorry to hear that. She must’ve been pretty bad for you to receive full custody.”

  He didn’t respond. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  She noticed something dark hiding behind the collar of his button-down shirt. “Is that a tattoo?”

  After he unbuttoned a couple of buttons, he pulled the material to the side to reveal a sun and two stars near his collar bone.

  Somehow she resisted the urge to run her fingertips over the ink. She’d never dated anyone with a tattoo before and she was surprised how sexy she found it.

  “I got that the day my daughter was born.”

  “Why a sun and stars? What do they symbolize?”

  He shrugged. “You have any tats?”

  She giggled. “Definitely not.”

  “Didn’t you ever rebel against your family?”

  “Sure. Everybody does.” She considered her teenaged years and figured she owed her parents a few apologies. “Mostly I stayed out past curfew and drank wine coolers.”

  “You rebel you. And you’ve seriously never been on a motorcycle before?”

  “It’s way more fun than it looks.”

  He nodded. “You seem like a pretty cool person, so why did you become a lawyer?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  What was he doing? He’d felt bad when Melodie seemed down that morning, so he’d decided to try and cheer her up. First he’d tried with that lame lawyer joke and then he’d decided a ride would boost her mood. Now he was in the woods, flirting and thinking about kissing her. Even worse, he wanted to know everything about her. He’d been with a few women since Gola, but he’d never been tempted to get serious. He knew better. Just that morning he’d done research on how long it took to process a parole request and he figured he had three more weeks. He could have one last Thanksgiving at home before they had to split. There certainly wasn’t enough time for a relationship.

  But right now all he could think about was his beautiful neighbor. She was talking about growing up in Lansing and wanting to help people. Her soothing voice mingled with the sounds of water splashing nearby. “When I was a kid, my uncle was in a terrible car accident. He broke his back and could never work again.”

  He flinched when she said car accident. Hopefully she didn’t notice.

  “Anyway, his employer fired him and he could barely support his family on his government disability checks. I heard my parents saying that if he’d had a good lawyer, he would’ve received a big settlement. No o
ne could ever compensate for him being in pain, but at least he would’ve been able to provide for his children. Instead, they were divided up among family members and one of my cousins moved in with us. At night she would lie in bed next to me sobbing because she missed her brothers and sisters and dad so much. I decided then that I wanted to be able to help people like him.”

  “And did you?”

  “I like to think so. But I met plenty of people who played the courts like they played the lottery. It turned my stomach. Being a lawyer wasn’t as noble a profession as I’d envisioned it. That’s why I was more than willing to give it up for living in the country and being a mom.”

  “Motherhood is also a noble profession.”

  Her cheeks reddened and she looked down. “Thanks, but noble doesn’t pay very well.”

  # # #

  After school, Beth took Willow to pick up her new glasses. She took a picture with her phone and sent it to Mee-maw and Parker, knowing they’d want to see. “You look pretty. And smart.”

  Willow beamed. “Really?”

  “Definitely. Shall we go get some frozen yogurt to celebrate?” In Beth’s mind, ice cream was forbidden, but if she only put fruit for toppings on the low-fat yogurt, it was a treat that wouldn’t blow her weight loss efforts.

  They went to the little shop in the same strip mall as the eye doctor and Willow enjoyed tasting all of the samples before making up her mind. Mango topped with chocolate chips, butterscotch syrup and gummy worms.

  Beth found it difficult to relax and enjoy her dessert. “Willow, I have something important to tell you. You know there’s a reason why your mom hasn’t been able to take care of you, right?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Well, there’s a chance she’s going to get out soon.”

  Willow dropped her spoon.

  Beth continued, “She wrote you a letter and I thought maybe you’d like to write her back.”

  Her eyes wide, Willow stood, picked up her half-eaten yogurt and tossed it in the trash. “Let’s go write her now.”

  # # #

  As she sat in the attorney’s office, Melodie felt as if she’d had a double-shot of espresso. Energy zinged through her veins and she could tell she was nailing this interview.

 

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