“Sure.”
“Would you have tea parties with me?”
He chuckled. “I guess so.”
“Would you buy me chocolate chip cookies? Bethany never does.”
“Sometimes.”
“Would we live here or in your house?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Beth and I would have to talk about that.”
“I don’t wanna move. I like my teacher at school.”
“Okay then. We’ll all live here.”
She cocked her head and looked mischievous. “Can I get a cat?”
“I like cats. So, is it all right with you if I marry Beth?”
A big grin overtook her face. “Yeah.” She stood up and started jumping on the bed.
Beth stepped into the room. “Hey, now. Settle down.” Willow wouldn’t listen, she just kept jumping. She tossed the yellow stuffed bear into the air.
Parker faced Beth. “Well, she’s obviously not sleeping. Grab her coat and let’s go to your father’s.”
“What?” Beth asked.
He picked Willow up and carried her down the hallway in her footie pajamas. “Come on!”
Before Beth could get any information out of him, they were in his white SUV. She laughed nervously. “What are we doing?”
“You’ll see.” That’s all he would say. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up into her father’s driveway and could see his living room light was still on.
“Sometimes he stays up late when he’s inspired about his next sermon.”
Once they exited the vehicle, Parker carried Willow on his shoulders so he could hold his fiancée’s hand. They walked up to the front door and knocked. Beth hoped her father wouldn’t be mad about the unannounced visit.
Without even checking the peephole, her father pulled open the door. “Oh, I thought it might be one of my parishioners in need of counsel.” He finished buttoning the top of his collared shirt and ushered them inside. Except for his house slippers, he was still dressed for the office in khaki pants and a striped green shirt. “Is something wrong?”
Beth could feel the joy bursting from within her. “No. Something’s right.”
“Hi, Papa!” Willow squealed and the sixty-year-old man waved at her. “It’s way past my bedtime.”
After he helped Willow down onto the carpet, Parker shook her father’s hand. “Mr. Morris.”
“Dr. Morris,” her father corrected and Beth’s spine stiffened. The two men knew a lot about each other—both good and bad—but they’d never met face-to-face. Suddenly she realized that she wanted them to get along.
“Forgive me. Dr. Morris. I’m Parker Dubois. As you know, Bethany and I have known each other since college. To be honest, I’ve always liked and admired her. She’s bright, kind and beautiful.” Beth felt her cheeks warm. “But within the last year, I’ve come to realize that I love her. She’s an amazing person and I would like very much to make her my wife.”
Her father put his hand on the back of his neck and squeezed. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he impressed that Parker was so old-fashioned or did he resent Parker for getting her pregnant seventeen years ago?
Parker continued. “The only reason I’ve hesitated at all in asking Beth to marry me is because I have Huntington’s disease. I hate that we won’t be able to grow old together and believe me, I’ve tried to get her to find someone else. I want her to have it all—a husband and a family. But I’ve learned that we don’t get to choose with whom we fall in love. She loves me and I love her. I can’t control when I die, but I can control how well I take care of her until then. Trust me, I will spend every minute I have here on earth, trying to make your daughter happy.”
Taking it all in, Beth held her breath. Wow. That proclamation impressed her anyway. Now she scanned her father’s age-spotted face for a reaction.
Her father removed his reading glasses and placed them on the open Bible on the end table. “Well, that’s quite a speech, son.”
Parker cracked his knuckles and waited. “May I have your permission to marry your daughter?”
“If you know Bethany at all, you know that she does whatever she wants whether I approve or not.”
Her father’s judgmental tone made her wince. Was he really going to ruin this for her?
Parker chuckled and ran his hands through his cropped, brown hair. “I know. But when you marry, you not only marry the person but the entire family. I want to be welcomed by you and your wife. I want us to celebrate Christmases and Easters together. There’s hardly anyone left in my family and that makes me treasure what you have even more. Family’s everything, sir.”
Her dad’s expression softened. “You’re wise beyond your years.”
“Thank you.”
“I hear you’re turning the old shoe factory into a youth center, is that right?”
Parker nodded. “I want to match the kids up with business people as mentors.”
“What about church? Will you bring my daughter to church on Sundays?”
“Dad!” Beth whined. This was embarrassing. “I’m thirty-five years old.” Willow went and plopped down on the couch as if she were too tired to stand any longer.
Crinkles formed around Parker’s brown eyes. “If that’s what she wants, I’ll gladly sit beside her on Sundays.” He glanced at her and she smiled back at him.
“All right then,” her father said. “You have my blessing.” He reached out and shook Parker’s big hand. Then her father turned to her. “My little girl is getting married.” For a moment he hesitated, then opened his arms. He waited for her to walk into them.
It was up to her to close the gap between them. Her palms grew moist. Time stood still while she considered it. Finally, she stepped forward and let her father hug her. It had been years since he’d done that and she sank into him. “You’re wrong, Dad. I have always cared about what you think. Always will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
A couple days later, a large manila envelope arrived in the mail addressed to Willow. Holding the thick envelope, the little girl skipped to the house, her pink glasses bouncing up and down on her nose. Once inside, she stopped in the living room and tried to tear the end. It was sealed shut with thick packing tape. “Will you help me open it?”
Beth went to the kitchen and found a steak knife which she used to slice the end of the package. She pulled out several pages of notebook paper written in print. They were the letters Gola’d written to her daughter in prison. A smile overtook her. Gola was a little brusque, but she cared more than Beth had given her credit for.
She handed the stack to Willow. “Your momma sent you some letters. Isn’t that exciting?”
Willow jumped up and down. “Yea!”
“Do you want me to read them to you?”
Willow looked down. “No. I wanna do it.”
Beth wondered if she should proof the letters first to make sure they were child appropriate, but it seemed a little late now. She was going to have to start trusting Gola sometime, so she took a seat on the couch and watched Willow’s blue eyes dance across each page.
After picking up a Weight Watchers magazine, Beth realized she couldn’t bring herself to open it. She preferred to spend every last minute taking in her foster daughter’s face.
It was time to have the conversation she’d been avoiding. When she’d been at the office earlier, she knew she should’ve taken care of it, but she also knew it’d be easier on the phone.
She went into the bedroom, closed the door and called her boss. When she married Parker, she probably wouldn’t need to work, but she felt like having a career was important. It would keep her occupied when she was away from Willow and she felt as if it made her a good role model for her. Plus, once Parker was gone, she would definitely need to throw herself into her job.
When Lina’s no-nonsense voice answered after the second ring, Beth launched in to her speech. “It’s Bethany. I wanted to find out what I need to do to put in a transfer to one of o
ur Tennessee locations.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“It’s family stuff and I’d rather not go into details. It might only be temporary. Maybe six months to a year.” Would Bethany ever be ready to completely walk away from Willow? When she’d started foster parent training, she’d told herself that she would. But now, she wasn’t sure.
“You know you work in corporate headquarters. There isn’t a marketing department anywhere else.”
“I understand.” Beth enjoyed the creative outlet, but some things were more important than what she did from 9 to 5.
“And I can’t hold your position for you while you’re gone.”
“I know.”
“Well, let me look at what positions are available. I’ll pull it up on my computer.” Beth pictured her twentysomething boss with the wild, red hair typing in her office, a neglected fern sitting in the window. The woman focused only on her career advancement and never understood why anyone would choose to be a mom. That’s probably why Beth had been putting this conversation off. “All I’m seeing are some cashier positions and an assistant manager at one of our retail locations. That would be quite a pay cut for you. Are you still interested?”
“Definitely.” Once this was all lined up, she’d talk to Gola some more about the arrangement. She’d touched on the subject during a recent phone call and Gola had seemed somewhat surprised, but open to the idea. Gola had also asked her tons of questions about if Willow had any allergies or other medical conditions. The woman seemed to be ready to make motherhood a priority.
“I’ll email you the link for you to fill out the transfer paperwork. Bethany, I have to say, I’m really going to miss working with you. It’s rare to meet someone who gets along with everybody on the team. You don’t let your ego get in the way like a lot of people in advertising. You work harder than anyone else, but share the credit. It’s been a pleasure to be your supervisor.”
Beth felt her cheeks warm. “Thank you. I’m going to miss working with you, too. But this is something I have to do.”
“Let’s talk about it more when you come in tomorrow.” Her boss disconnected the line.
“Bethany?” Willow’s high-pitched voice called out to her.
“Yes. Do you need help reading your mom’s handwriting?” Bethany left her bedroom and found Willow sitting on the couch.
“No.” Willow held up a white business envelope. “This has your name on it. It was stuck in the pile.”
When Beth took the envelope, she noticed that it was sealed. Using her thumb, she ripped open the top. She pulled out another piece of note book paper, this one written in cursive.
“What does it say?” Willow asked.
“I don’t know.” Beth went to the master bedroom to get her tortoise-shell reading glasses. As she scanned the contents of the letter, her heartbeat sped up.
Dear Bethany:
I don’t know how to put this. Right now I don’t have the time or money for Willow’s counseling and physical therapy. I’d hoped that Skye and Willow would be back together, but that damn judge denied them that. Skye was always such a big help with Willow, I don’t know what I’m gonna do without her. It’s hard being an ex-con. People don’t want to give you a 2nd chance. Last week a customer at the salon complained that I looked at her sideways and I got in trouble. And staying sober’s a daily struggle. This world just seems to be against me. Willow’s happy with you, so for now, I plan on letting her stay there a little longer.
Gola
She’d let Willow stay a little longer? What the hell did that mean?
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Sitting in his neighbor’s living room, Conner could hear his daughter and Zoe giggling upstairs. Last week he’d won custody and after she’d settled in, Skye had begged for a playdate.
In a lame attempt to impress Melodie, he’d brought a plate of chocolate cookies he’d sandwiched around Nutella.
She’d already helped herself to two, but she was eyeing a third. “You’re an amazing baker.”
“Thank you.” He kept his distance from her, sitting at the far end of her suede couch. She’d made her feelings clear. Besides, she was out of his league. She was college-educated and he was lucky to have graduated high school. Even so, he didn’t want her to move away. “Have you had many people look at your house?”
“Not really. My real estate agent said it’ll pick up once spring gets here.”
He appreciated how she always wore her brunette hair up, even when she was dressed in jeans, like today. It emphasized her long neck. “How are you liking your new job?”
Her brown eyes lit up. “I love it. It’s perfect. I work while Zoe’s at school and then they let me do paperwork at home in the evenings.”
“Now that you have a job, do you really need to sell your house?”
Her gaze appeared to land on the neglected field visible out the window. “I still don’t know how to farm. It makes sense to buy a cheaper place.”
“Except then you won’t live next door to me.” He wiggled his eyebrows—he couldn’t help it. “Don’t you want to take another ride on my motorcycle sometime?”
It took her a moment to respond, as if she were remembering the wind in her hair and their picnic by the river. “That would be nice.”
“I had an idea of how I can pay your legal fees. Why don’t I farm your land for you?”
She tilted her head. “You’d do that?”
“Sure. I figure Skye loves it here, so I’m going to take care of my grandfather’s fields and I could do yours, as well. Then once I’ve paid you back, we can split the profits from your farm. You can even draw up some sort of legal document spelling out the agreement.”
“I know someone who’d like to stay.” She pointed toward the laughter coming through the ceiling.
A moment later, the girls quieted down and the air became uncomfortably still in the living room. God, he wanted to be with her. He wanted to feel the softness of her hair, the warmth of her breath on his skin. But she was too good for him, so he reminded himself to put up that wall.
Moving aside some framed family photos, she set her plate on the coffee table. “Do you know what lawyers use for birth control?”
What was she talking about? “No.”
“Their personalities.” She smirked at him.
So she’d made a lawyer joke. “Ha, ha.”
She fidgeted, which he’d rarely seen her do. Ever since she’d won his case, she’d been so confident, it made her even more attractive. She’d been a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say, is that I was a bit cold to you. That day you came over and clearly needed a hug, I shouldn’t have pulled back. I mean, we’re friends, right? A friend can hug another friend without it being a breach of ethics.”
“You’re saying you want to be friends with me.”
“Considering you already have a girlfriend. . . .”
“You mean the blonde? Sunny? Now she and I will never be anything more than friends, that’s for sure.”
Her brown eyes twinkled. “Really? You two aren’t together?”
If he was reading her right, she actually sounded jealous of Sunny. He scooted closer to her on the couch. “Like I testified in court, I haven’t been involved with a woman in over two years. The real question is would you ever consider dating a single father with a past you know way too much about?”
Just sitting this close to her made his breathing grow ragged. God, she smelled delicious—like a hint of vanilla. She fiddled with her wedding ring and stared at the center diamond, which was bigger than one he could ever afford. Another reminder that she was out of his league. Why was he even putting himself out there just so she could shoot him down again?
A second later, she stood and scurried out of the room. His spirits crashed.
# # #
After locking her bedroom door, Bethany stepped inside her walk-in closet. Surrounded by pantsuits and flats in every col
or, she dialed the number Gola had scribbled on the back of a McDonald’s receipt.
A woman with a Southern drawl answered, “Steel Magnolia’s Salon. How may I help you?”
She lowered her voice so Willow couldn’t hear. “May I speak with Gola Moon please?”
“I can make an appointment for you. Would you like to schedule a pedicure or manicure?”
“That’s not why I’m calling.”
“Is this a personal call? Because Gola has been told repeatedly that she’s not supposed to use this number.” The Southern hospitality had left the woman’s voice.
“I won’t ever call again, but this is urgent.”
“Okay.” It sounded as if she put the phone to her chest and yelled, “Gola! It’s for you.” A couple of minutes later, Gola’s husky voice came over the line. “Who is this?”
“Gola, it’s Bethany. I just got your letter.” Anger boiled in her chest and she could hear a tremor in her voice. “What did you mean that you’d let me keep Willow a little while longer?”
“Well, it’s like I said in the letter. It’s gonna take me longer than expected to get back on my feet. I’m working all the time and trying to save up money, but it’s not easy.”
“O-kayyyy.” Beth drew out the word because what she meant was it definitely wasn’t okay. “I know it could take six months before a judge would award you custody. Are you thinking it might take even longer than that?” Part of Beth hoped she said yes, but part of her hated her for delaying Willow’s happiness.
“Right. I’m just so busy, I don’t know when I’d have time for Willow.”
Beth squeezed the phone in her hands and forced herself to keep her voice low. “Why wouldn’t you have time for Willow? She’ll be in school most of the day while you’re working. I suppose you’d need a babysitter for a couple of hours before you got home in the evening.”
“Well, I work some nights and when I don’t have to be at the salon. . . .” The woman hesitated. It sounded like she was chewing gum.
“What? What’s going on?”
“I met somebody. His name is Gus and he’s so much fun.”
A Mother's Conviction (Secrets Series Book 3) Page 24
