by MJ Fredrick
Another shrug. “I went over to the taqueria to see if they were hiring a cook or something. They said they’d let me know.”
Which probably meant no. There weren't a lot of other places that met the conditions of his parole. He could work in the fast food place on the highway, or even the hotel out there, though they might not be hiring anymore either, since their clientele had dissipated. He’d been a mechanic before he went inside, but there were three other mechanics in town now, and all of them competing for business since the oilfields were cutting back.
“We could go talk to a lawyer, see what our options are with the grocery store.” He knew Miranda wasn't practicing, but she would know options. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to see her again.
His father was already shaking his head. “They tried to keep me, you know, putting me in the back, away from the customers. In the end, it was money lost.”
“So what are you going to do?”
The older man met his gaze then. “I could come work for you.”
Noah reared back in surprise at the words. “I’m not hiring.” He could not—could. not.—imagine working with his father. The two of them had so little in common. And the idea that his father would help him care for animals was laughable. More than once, Noah had to save a sick or stray from the man who’d been ready to “put it out of its misery.”
Rey’s face didn't betray any emotion at Noah’s proclamation. He merely nodded and started to turn away.
“I don’t even know what you think you would do for me.” His clinic in town was fully staffed with two techs and a receptionist, all of whom loved animals and treated them well. The hardest part—or anyway, Noah’s least favorite part—was keeping the books, and Rey had barely graduated high school. He couldn't send the man on house calls with no training, and bringing him along—just no. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
It was the first time he’d called him Dad since Rey had been back, and the older man caught it, if the flinch was any indication.
*****
Over the next few days, Noah noticed that the house was looking different, better. The clutter in the living room was more organized, the dishes and laundry were always put away, and a couple of nights, he noticed tools around the house, but he hadn't seen any repairs. Still, he was glad his father was making an effort to improve the place until he could find a job. He was going to have to get one soon, the parole officer said. Ben wanted their father to try to get a job in Pearsall or another town, hoping, Noah knew, that the old man would move away. But he couldn't afford to live on his own yet. Noah understood Ben’s desire to have his father move out, but Noah refused to kick him out. His conscience wouldn't allow it.
Jesus, was he going to have to hire his father so he didn't violate his parole? Noah didn't have the money to pay him. If he couldn't pay him, the old man couldn't move out.
Did Rey even want to move out? He may not. He’d bought this house, and probably didn't want to live elsewhere.
So what did that mean? That Noah was stuck with him forever, or that Noah would have to move? He didn't want to move. But he would get married eventually and he didn't want to live with his father. Enough he was going to have to live with Selena, take care of her the rest of her life.
He scrubbed his hand down his face. At least his father had been taking Selena in to work every day. Selena was genuinely pleased by the attention, and Noah was letting himself relax about it. His father had never given a shit about Selena when she was little, but maybe he’d seen the error of his ways in prison and was trying to make up for it. As long as Selena was happy—and safe—Noah would allow his father to continue.
*****
“You can’t move out.” Cindy Bonner braced her hands on the back of a chair and stared at her older daughter. “You just came back. And it’s almost the holidays. Do you know how I’ve been looking forward to having both my daughters home for the holidays?”
“I’ll still be in town, but I’ll be living in another house.”
“With two women you don't even know. It’s not like they’re your friends from high school or anything. These are strangers. Why do you want to live with strangers? Why can’t you live in your own house? Your room is still the same.”
“Mom, I’m too used to living on my own, having my own schedule. You know I wouldn't have that with you, and you’d get frustrated if I’m late for dinner, or if I leave the house early or come home late.”
“Why would you be coming home late? You have to remember, Miranda, this is a small town and whatever you’re planning will get back to me.”
“Mother, it’s not like we’re opening a brothel.”
“But a man does play into this equation, doesn't he? Allison told me about you and Noah Braun the other night.”
“Did she.” Of course she had. Miranda wanted to ask what her sister had told her mother, but she wasn't going to give either of them the satisfaction.
Her mother waited, as if Miranda was going to confess all. She kept her mouth shut and her gaze steady.
“He wasn't good enough for you then, and he’s not good enough for you now.”
Miranda widened her eyes at the old argument. “Mother, he’s the town vet. He’s very respected.”
“And blood will tell in him, just like it has with his brother.”
Miranda stared, unable to believe the judgmental words coming from her mother’s mouth. The thought had been one thing when she was a teenager, when her mother hadn't been able to see Noah’s fortitude the way Miranda had. But now that he’d made a success of his life?
“What I don't understand,” her mother finally continued, because she couldn't stand silence, “is that you just came home. You said yourself that you didn't have much for Damian to send you from New York. You don't need much room.”
“I didn't come back to live at home,” she said, trying for patience. This was why she’d delayed this conversation. “I came back to start a new life. I’m not going to start a new life living here. I don't want to be…”
She trailed off as Allison came through the door. She didn't want to add that she didn't want to be seen as a failure for moving home. She didn't want her sister to think that she thought that way about her, but Miranda knew if she moved home permanently, people would see her as returning with her tail between her legs. She admitted she had been pretty arrogant about leaving, and when she’d come home, she’d felt superior to many people in town because of the places she’d been, the things she’d seen. So maybe she did deserve a little of the head-shaking that people were doing. But she wasn't a failure. She was just trying something new.
“Anyway. I’m not asking your permission. I’m letting you know what’s happening. It’s not like we won’t see each other. I’ll be around. Just not every day.” She knew she had to set those ground rules or her mother would want her here for dinner every night, and that unspoken demand was one of the reasons she was moving out.
Her mother pressed her lips together. “I really wish you’d talked this over with me.”
“Why? Mother, I’ve been making my own decisions for a dozen years now. I’ve made mistakes, sure, but I know how to make my own choices.”
“You’ll be here until Thanksgiving?”
She tried hard not to sigh. “Yes, we’ll move into the house the weekend after Thanksgiving.”
Another sound of distress from her mother. “I thought the three of us might go into San Marcos to the outlet mall and do some Black Friday shopping.”
“Mom.”
“You’ll need some new things for your new place,” she cajoled.
That was true. And when she’d been growing up, she’d always wanted to shop on Black Friday, but her father hadn't wanted to leave his family in Evansville on the holiday, and when she’d lived in New York, she’d been too busy to indulge in the busiest shopping day of the year.
She looked at her sister, who hadn't said anything since she’d come into the room. “What do you think, All
ison? Should we head to San Marcos for Black Friday?” Maybe it would be a good bonding experience for them. Lord knew they could use it.
*****
Thanksgiving had never been Noah’s favorite time of year. For one, November in Texas could be dreary. For another, well, his father had always gotten drunk on Thanksgiving, and mean, and all the hard work his mother had done on the meal was ruined, every year. Once their mother died, the family split up, and Ben and Selena had gone with Tia Lupita. Noah knew they celebrated Thanksgiving, because he’d been invited. He stayed in College Station instead, though, since he was working part-time. Once he’d come home, and Ben and Selena had come home, they’d never celebrated Thanksgiving.
“Have we gotten a turkey yet?” Rey asked one evening.
“For what?” Noah asked, reaching across the table for the sorry excuse for a salad—ripped up lettuce and cherry tomatoes.
“Thanksgiving is in three days.”
“So?”
Silence around the table as everyone stopped eating. Noah looked up at his father. “We haven't had a Thanksgiving in years.”
“It’s my first one home,” Rey said quietly. “Something I looked forward to when I was in prison.”
He rarely talked about prison, and never about what he’d thought about in there. Noah didn't particularly want to hear it, and he didn't feel sorry for the old man.
“This year it would be particularly special.”
For him, Noah wanted to say. “I don’t have the first idea of how to cook a turkey, not to mention everything else that goes along with it. And I don't have time to go shopping.”
“I do.”
Because he hadn't found another job yet. Much longer, and the parole officer was going to come calling. Noah exchanged another look with Ben, and glanced at Selena, who was paying rapt attention. “I guess it would be okay. I still have to make rounds that day. I don't even know what to get.”
“I’ll take care of it, if you’ll give me the money,” Rey said.
Noah frowned at his father. “No beer, though.”
“I’d like to invite your tia.”
“What is going on there?” Ben asked, setting his knife and fork down.
“Nothing. I just want to show her how thankful I am for taking care of you kids when I couldn’t.”
“And the fact that she’s single and pretty has nothing to do with it.”
The lines around Rey’s mouth deepened. “You’re right, that has nothing to do with it. And even so, it’s not your business.”
“Not my business. That you want to sleep with my aunt because she looks like my mother.”
“Ben.” Noah said his name quietly, and glanced at Selena when Ben turned hot eyes to him.
He felt the air go out of his father, too, at Noah’s hint. “I won’t invite her if you don't want me to. I just thought it would be a nice gesture after everything she did for us.” Rey stood and carried his plate to the sink.
“She did it for us, and for Mom. Not for you,” Ben said. “I don't even know how she can look at you after what you did.”
“It was an accident. I never thought anyone would get hurt.”
Instead, because of his thoughtlessness, they all had been destroyed.
“What do you think, Noah?”
“I think this is your party. Invite who you want.” Noah reached for the salad dressing, wishing he could walk away from the table, but he was starving. “Any news on the job front?”
“Nothing yet. Pretty soon they’re going to cart me back to jail. Or I could come work for you.”
Since his father had about as much compassion as a rattlesnake, Noah didn't see that happening. “I think maybe we should talk to a lawyer about if they had the right to fire you from the grocery store, just because you were making the customers uncomfortable.”
“You have a lawyer in your pocket?” Rey asked.
“Miranda Bonner is back in town and she might be one to ask.”
“She the one you used to sleep with back in high school?” Rey asked.
It was Noah’s turn to tighten his mouth. “The girl I dated in high school, yes. She got her law degree and she’s setting up practice here, so I thought we’d ask.”
“She’s nice. I like her,” Selena chimed in. “Invite her for Thanksgiving, too.”
“I’m sure she’ll be with her family,” Noah said. “But I don't think it would hurt to ask about Rey getting fired.”
“You want an excuse to see her,” Ben said.
Why were the men in his family such assholes? “I’m sure I could find a better reason than asking her why my father, who is on parole, got fired because people don't like him.”
So many better reasons.
Ben lifted a fork in concession.
“Got to be careful,” Rey said. “Those Bonners always thought they were better than us.”
“They were,” Ben and Noah said together. Noah flashed a quick smile across the table at his brother, but it faded when he remembered how her parents had hated her dating him, one reason because he was half Mexican and another, his father was a drunk. No reason to expect he wouldn’t follow his father’s footsteps.
Still, he was going to see her again, as soon as he could.
Even if he had to go to her mother’s house to do it.
*****
He stopped by the following day after his clinic day. He worked in the clinic on Tuesdays and Thursdays, did appointments and surgeries those days, and always felt hemmed in on
Her mother opened the door, wearing an apron and looking harried. That expression changed to shock to see him on her front porch.
“Noah. What can I do for you?”
It might have been his imagination, but it seemed that she closed the door a little more, to block his view of the house.
“Sorry to interrupt your cooking, Mrs. Bonner. I’m looking for Miranda.”
“So I’ve heard.” She shifted her weight, further blocking the door.
“It’s a professional matter, dealing with my dad.”
“Uh-huh.” She made no move to call for Miranda.
“Is she here?”
“Surely there’s someone else you can talk to about this?”
“Maybe, but Miranda is already familiar with the details, and I’d like to ask her. Is she here?” He was fairly certain she was, because her car was out front. Of course, she might have walked somewhere, but he didn’t think so, not the way her mother was acting.
“I’ll get her.” Mrs. Bonner closed the door in his face, and for a minute, he wondered if she had just done it to get rid of him, that she had no intention of fetching Miranda.
But then the door opened again and Miranda stood there, also in an apron that didn't suit her at all, frills and flowers and lace. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore jeans and a button-down shirt beneath the apron. A dusting of flour rode on her cheek, and she looked like the teenager he’d fallen in love with.
“Hey, when do you think you’ll be starting your practice in town?” he asked, lest she think he was here for romantic reasons.
She blinked. “Not until the new year probably. Why?”
“Well, ah, this might be awkward, but I think I have a wrongful termination suit for you. My dad was working at the grocery store and he was fired because the customers felt uncomfortable around him.”
She frowned. “I guess I can see that, but I would need to know more. Are you sure that’s the reason they fired him?”
Noah took a step back. He should have thought of that, that his father could be lying. Why would he take what his father said at face value, anyway? He should have talked to the grocery store before coming here and taking Miranda away from her holiday preparation, and pissing off her mother.
“I didn't double-check,” he admitted. “I was just so pissed on his behalf. It was hard enough for him to find even a minimum wage job that would meet the requirements of his parole. And then for him to lose it for such a stupid r
eason…” But if that wasn't the reason? If he’d been rude to a customer, or reckless, or any number of reasons.
“He was probably on probationary status. Most employers have a ninety day probationary period, and it’s easier for them to fire someone during that time.”
“Ah, hell.” He dragged a hand through his hair and nodded. “They probably don't have any shortage of applicants to fill his place, either.”
“I’m sorry to not have better news for you, Noah.”
“Yeah, well, he has to be employed as a condition of his parole, and he’s having trouble getting work, and so wants to come work for me.”
“Oh, Noah.”
Her voice said it all. She knew of the tension that ran between the two of them most of the time. And that was before his mother had been killed.
“Nothing’s changed?”
He shook his head. Man, he wanted to pour it all out to her, tell her everything, but not on the front porch of her mother’s house. Besides, he’d never been that guy. He dealt with it.
“We didn't see him much the past fourteen years. It’s an adjustment having him back at the house.”
“I can only imagine.”
He took another step back, toward the edge of the porch. “I’ll let you get back to your baking, or whatever. I’m sorry to have bothered you. But honestly, I wouldn't have thought of those things, so thank you.”
“Any time.”
“And if you need help moving into your office, or whatever you’re going to do…”
“Thank you, Noah,” she said when he trailed off.
“Okay. Ah. I’ll see you around.” His brain cast about for another reason to see her again, before the first of the year, but he couldn't think of a damned thing. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Noah,” she said, and watched him as he turned and hurried back to his truck.
*****
Miranda closed her trunk with a satisfying thud. Her feet were throbbing, her eyes were gritty, and if she never saw another person she’d be satisfied, but she and her mother and Allison had gotten some great deals at the outlet’s Black Friday sales. They had decided that, instead of opening presents Christmas morning, if they saw something they wanted for themselves, they’d buy it and say it was a gift from each other. Miranda was a little sad there would be nothing under the tree Christmas morning, but she loved her new sheets and towels, and the furniture that would be shipped to her new address.
