A Family of Her Own

by Brenda Novak

  “What?” she said when he didn’t speak right away.

  “Let me feel the baby move.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course.”

  “But that could take a while, Booker. This baby doesn’t exactly move on command.”

  “Are you in some sort of hurry?”

  “Not really,” she said. It wasn’t as if she had to get up early for anything specific. But she wasn’t far enough along that it was easy to feel the baby move from the outside. Booker would have to put his hands up her shirt, right against her belly….

  “Then what’s the problem?” he asked, challenge glinting in his eyes.

  “There’s no problem,” she said. “I—I guess we could give it a try.”

  He slid over to make more room for her, and she got into bed with him. For propriety’s sake, she sat against the headboard.

  “You’ll be more comfortable if you lie down,” he said, using the hand that wasn’t swollen so badly to cover her legs with his blankets.

  The appealing scent of Booker’s warm body engulfed her. “That’s okay,” she said, swallowing hard. “I’m fine.”

  He shifted closer, and she took a deep breath before guiding his hands under her shirt. She had to rearrange them more than once searching for the perfect place to feel the baby. But the baby seemed to have settled for the night and wasn’t moving. By the time Booker shook off her hands and began to explore on his own, she was shaky and weak and wishing she hadn’t put herself in such a vulnerable position.

  Closing her eyes, she tilted her head against the wall as Booker felt her stomach. He didn’t touch her anywhere else, but she couldn’t help remembering other times when he’d instinctively responded to her every desire…and thought she might melt on the spot.

  “The—” She cleared her throat so she could speak, hoping to gain some perspective—and some emotional distance. “The baby is in a sac of fluid, so it’s kind of hard to feel. It’ll get easier as I get bigger. Do you—would you rather take a rain check?”

  “Don’t talk,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Silence is part of the deal.”

  “You didn’t mention that before.”

  “Do you want to change your mind?”

  No! She was on fire, scarcely breathing, burning both where he touched her and where she wanted him to touch her. The heady sensations coursing through her were all bittersweet, but sweet enough that she didn’t want him to stop. “I’m okay if you are,” she lied, trying to sound unaffected.

  “Then relax.”

  Relax? She couldn’t relax. She could see his bare shoulders gleaming in the light filtering into the room, the strong profile of his rugged face, and wanted to comb her fingers through his thick, tousled hair.

  But she didn’t dare. He was just curious about the baby. And the baby seemed to like his touch. After a few minutes, as Booker held his palms against her belly, the baby moved.

  Katie glanced down to see if he’d noticed. But his dark lashes rested against his cheeks, and his breathing had become deep and regular.

  Too late. He was asleep.

  CHAPTER TEN

  BOOKER FELT AS IF HE’D been hit by a freight train. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he muttered, staring at his cut and bruised face in the mirror.

  He could smell bacon frying downstairs and knew that Katie was already up, fixing breakfast. He wondered how Delbert was doing. Delbert had cried the whole time Booker was being taken into custody.

  He washed his hands and brushed his teeth, thinking about the fight and wishing he’d had the chance to inflict a little more damage before Orton arrived with his gun. If anyone deserved a beating, it was Jon Small. He had a mean streak a mile wide, drunk or sober, and always managed to hide behind daddy’s name. He was a coward, and Booker hated nothing more than a coward….

  The phone rang. Booker grabbed the sweatshirt he’d taken into the bathroom with him and pulled it over his head as he made his way downstairs. He hadn’t bothered to shave. He wasn’t planning to open the garage today.

  As he neared the kitchen, Booker could hear Katie on the phone. “I think he’s going to be okay. Just a minute.” She came around the corner and nearly collided with him.

  “Oh, there you are. Rebecca’s on the phone.”

  Booker remembered the feel of Katie’s bulging tummy beneath his hands and purposefully turned his mind to other things. She wasn’t the one who’d finally brought him peace last night. He was just fascinated by the baby. She was the first pregnant woman he’d ever associated with on an upclose basis, and the changes he witnessed in her from day to day were pretty damned amazing.

  “Hello?” he said, wondering why, if he was only interested in the baby, he had such a tough time taking his eyes off her nicely rounded behind when she moved away.

  “What happened last night?” Rebecca asked.

  “Haven’t you heard?” Booker covered a yawn. “It’s got to be all over town.”

  “The rumor that you were arrested for attacking Councilman Small’s son is all over town. Josh heard it at the feed store and just called me. Not exactly the kind of news I like to hear about my good friend first thing in the morning. Especially when I don’t believe it.”

  Booker glanced into the kitchen to see Travis seated at the table with Delbert and wondered how he now had three people and a dog living with him when, not too long ago, his Harley had been the closest thing he had to company.

  “Jon needed to learn a lesson,” he told Rebecca.

  “So you taught him one.”

  “I did my best.” He stared down at his swollen knuckles and decided his efforts had been well spent in spite of everything. “Unfortunately he had his brothers with him, and a cousin.”

  “You took them all on? Are you crazy?”

  “It was what you might call a time-sensitive issue.”

  “I like the story so far. What’s the rest?”

  Booker heard Katie putting plates on the table and felt his stomach growl. She made the best biscuits and gravy. From the smell, he was willing to bet…

  “Booker?” Rebecca said.

  “I’m here,” he replied. “That’s pretty much it. Orton came, broke up the fight and hauled me off to jail.”

  “Just you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not such a great ending. Why? Did you start the fight?”

  “No. But this isn’t Mayberry, Beck. Orton hates me.”

  She snorted in disgust. “Orton’s an idiot. What’s the charge?”

  “Misdemeanor Assault.”

  “Can you get jail time?”

  “I guess it’s possible, but I’m betting on a fine.”

  “How much of a fine?”

  “Maybe five hundred bucks. There were four of ’em, so it’s tough to fine a guy too much for taking the worst of it.”

  “I can’t believe the fight was four to one, and you’re the one who went to jail.”

  “I know. Delbert was so upset, they almost arrested him because he wouldn’t let go of me.”

  “Delbert was there?”

  “He was there before I was. The Smalls were having a little fun at his expense. That’s what started the whole thing.”

  “You’re kidding! They were picking on Delbert? Is he okay?”

  “He’ll live. But I’d hate to see him if I’d gotten there any later.”

  “Where was Bruiser?”

  “Being the nice guy that he is, Delbert tied Bruiser up so he wouldn’t bite anybody.”

  There was a long pause. “What happened is sickening, pathetic,” she said at last. “I’m going to tell my father.”

  Rebecca’s father was the mayor of Dundee, but Booker knew better than to count on any help from him. He was the one who’d told the police chief to keep an eye on Booker when he’d moved to town two-and-a-half years ago. “I think you’re missing something here,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

&nb
sp; “Your father hates me, too, remember?”

  “Actually, now that I’m married, I think he’s starting to mellow,” she said. “A couple of days ago, he told me to see if you can check out his Lincoln. It’s making a knocking noise.”

  Booker carried the phone into the kitchen and sat down next to Travis. “Have him bring it to the shop.”

  Katie put a big plate of biscuits and gravy, bacon and eggs in front of him.

  “I will.” Rebecca sighed. “So are you going to be okay?”

  He studied his food eagerly. “I’m fine.”

  “Katie said you look like hell.”

  “She’s the one who’s putting on weight,” he said, and knew Katie had heard him when she narrowed her eyes and tried to snatch his plate away before he could take a bite.

  “Just tell me one more thing,” Rebecca said.

  He curved an arm around his plate to protect it. “What’s that?”

  “Tell me you’re not going to do anything to get even with Jon.”

  “I can’t promise you anything there.”

  “Booker, you don’t need this kind of trouble. Don’t let him—”

  “He has to understand something, Beck.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like if he ever touches Delbert again, he’ll need more than his daddy’s name to protect him.”

  ON SUNDAY, KATIE SAT in a booth at Jerry’s, with Travis across from her. She shifted, straightening her new maternity top. Thanks to Booker, she had clothes that fit and was wearing a nice pair of loafers. And she had twenty dollars in her pocket, which he’d insisted on paying her for work around the house. That was all good. Except the new clothes and shoes, and even the money, did little to soothe her anxiety when her parents walked in.

  Taking a bolstering sip of hot cocoa, she resisted the urge to glance across the street at Booker’s shop, where he was handling a few details, and looked pointedly at Travis. “They’re here,” she said, patting the seat next to her so her brother would move there.

  He stuffed another French fry in his mouth, shoved his plate across the table, and came around. “I don’t see why we have to meet Mom and Dad. I like living with you and Booker.”

  Katie had let him stay two nights. Since he was expelled and didn’t have school anyway, Travis had wanted to stay longer. But Katie felt it was time for Travis to make amends with their parents and go home.

  “Booker has enough people to look after right now,” she said, thinking of that whole mess with Delbert and the fight. Fortunately, after a little badgering, Booker had made good on their trade and visited Hatcher’s office yesterday, so they knew his hand wasn’t broken.

  “Booker doesn’t care if I stay,” Travis argued. “Booker’s cool. He gave me a ride on his Harley this morning.”

  Katie tried not to feel a twinge of jealousy. She’d wanted a ride on the bike, too, but Booker had refused to take her until after she’d had the baby. “You’re fourteen, Travis. You need to be at home, and somehow, you need to get back into school.”

  “You sound like Mom,” he grumbled under his breath.

  Katie didn’t have time to respond. Her parents had reached the booth and were sliding in on the other side.

  “You wanted to see us?” her father said, his voice clipped.

  “Yes, I—”

  Judy showed up almost immediately to offer them coffee, and winked at Katie as she walked away. Obviously she thought Katie and her parents were finally resolving their differences. But this meeting wasn’t about Katie. Her parents had taken their stand where she was concerned, and Katie had no intention of trying to change that. This was about her brother.

  “Travis should be at home,” she said.

  “He knows what he has to do if he wants to live with us,” her father said.

  Her mother didn’t speak. She just kept looking at Katie. Katie got the impression that Tami was curious about the baby, but the table hid most of her belly and she folded her arms to conceal the rest. Her mother hadn’t wanted any part of her pregnancy before, and Katie didn’t feel inclined to share it with her now.

  “I was hoping you could go over the rules with him, one more time,” she said.

  “We’ve been over and over them,” her father said.

  “He has to attend school, pass all his classes and do his chores every Saturday,” her mother recited. “No more rap music, no more coming in late, no more getting into trouble.”

  “That doesn’t sound like too much to ask, does it, Travis?” Katie said hopefully. Booker had had a long talk with him on their way into town. He’d told Travis how important it was to get an education and not make the same mistakes he had. And Katie felt Booker’s words had made an impact. Travis respected Booker. She’d sensed a maturing in her brother, a recognition that he’d have to do better.

  But despite those inroads, Travis grimaced now, obviously put out by their parents’ attitudes. “How can they tell me what kind of music to listen to?” he asked her.

  “Have you heard the lyrics to some of those songs?” their father jumped in, obviously ready to do battle. “I’ve never heard such trash in my life.”

  Katie searched for a quick compromise. “They have advisory labels on the worst ones. How about if Travis agrees not to buy or listen to anything with an advisory warning?”

  “That’s not good enough,” he said. “Rap is nothing but a bunch of people screaming obscenities into a microphone.”

  “Maybe his taste is different,” Katie pointed out, and to her surprise, her mother agreed.

  “I think we could bend there, Don.”

  Don glanced at Tami, clearly not pleased with her defection, but without her support, he gave in, too. “Fine. But I’d better not find one CD with an advisory warning. Not one.”

  “Okay, Travis?” Katie said.

  “They’ve given me an eleven-o’clock curfew on the weekend,” he complained. “All my friends can stay out until midnight.”

  “I’m not going to change that until you show me you can be responsible about staying out later, young man,” their father said.

  “How long would he have to keep out of trouble and come in at eleven o’clock before you’d trust him to stay out an hour later?” Katie asked.

  Their parents exchanged a look. “I don’t think he’s capable of—” Don started, but Tami interrupted with, “Three months.”

  “Can you handle three months in order to get your curfew extended?” Katie asked her brother.

  Travis shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “Great.”

  Judy came with Don and Tami’s coffee, and Katie pushed her empty plate aside. “If you both keep your bargains, things should be easier around the house. Booker tried to tell Travis how—”

  “Booker has no right to tell Travis anything,” her father snapped.

  Katie felt her spine stiffen. “Booker has been good to Travis. He’s been good to me, too.”

  “Booker’s no better than Andy. He was tossed into jail for fighting the other night.”

  Katie’s fingernails curled into her palms. “Don’t pass judgment on something you know nothing about.”

  “I know enough to—”

  Tami touched Don’s arm. When he fell silent, she looked at Katie. “What about you, Kate?”

  “What about me?” Katie said.

  “Have you learned your lesson?”

  Katie thought of the depression and desperation that had nearly destroyed her after her parents had closed their door in her face. How badly she’d needed a kind word from her mother. How hard it was to accept the fact that her parents didn’t love her enough to forgive her.

  She was still struggling with that one. “I’ve learned a lot of lessons lately,” she said softly.

  “So you’re ready to come home?”

  Katie heard the hopeful note in her mother’s voice, but Tami’s offer was far too late and far too conditional. “I’m not coming home, Mom. Ever. You asked me about lessons. Well, I’v
e learned that people aren’t always what they seem. And that I can’t count on you to be there for me if I ever make a mistake.” She felt a faint smile curve her lips. “Maybe when I’m perfect, I’ll give you a call.”

  Tami’s cup hit its saucer with a clank, spilling coffee, but Katie ignored it. She’d done what she’d come to do for her brother.

  Nudging Travis so he’d let her out, she gave him a hug. “Be good,” she said and threw her twenty-dollar bill on the table.

  BOOKER LOOKED UP THE moment Katie came through the door of his office. He’d been paying his vendors—a slow, laborious project because of his injured hand—but he was finished now. Returning the checkbook to his desk drawer, he said, “So how’d it go with Don and Tami?”

  “Great.” She smiled, but Booker thought she looked a little pale. Her parents seemed to have that effect on her.

  “They’re going to take Travis back?”

  “As long as he lives by their rules.”

  Booker considered her answer. “Fortunately he can’t get pregnant.”

  She chuckled. “Actually they said I could move back, too.”

  Sudden panic raised Booker’s pulse, but he told himself it had everything to do with losing the comfortable existence he’d come to know with Katie’s cooking and cleaning. Surely it had nothing to do with her on a personal level. Surely he wasn’t beginning to count on having her around. He’d known from the outset not to count on her for anything.

  “Are you going home to your folks, then?” he asked, turning his attention back to the papers on his desk as though her answer didn’t matter.

  “I will if you want me to.”

  From the corner of his eye, he could see her toying with the strap of her purse. “It’s your decision.”

  She didn’t answer for a while, and eventually he looked up at her.

  “Do you want to know what I’d rather do?”

  He nodded, but felt his stomach muscles tighten.

  “I’d rather stay with you.”

  Relief swept through him, but Booker wasn’t about to let Katie know that. “If you stay with me, you’re seeing the doctor this week,” he said.

  “Booker, you know I have to find someone who’ll let me make payments—”