Garrett studied her from behind his dark glasses. She looked rested, he thought, a bit resentful about the sorrow that pinched his heart, but not, apparently, hers. He noticed something more, a cool pulling back, like she’d had second thoughts about last night and now couldn’t wait to have the entire expedition over and done with.
Sherry deliberately distanced herself from Garrett. She detested tears, considered them a sign of weakness. Yet she had, in the solitude of her room, shed a few for him and for herself—for a loss she felt so keenly.
If Sherry hadn’t seemed completely and icily unapproachable, Garrett might have tried to breech the gap yawning between them on the drive back to Carla’s. But how?
He said nothing and, as a result, neither did Sherry.
Keith again waited on Carla’s porch. As Garrett turned his truck into the circular lane, the boy tore down the walkway, waving madly, face ringed in smiles.
“Where is everyone?” Garrett asked, climbing out as Keith tossed his duffel into the pickup’s bed and scrambled to claim his former seat in the middle.
“Crawford’s at work. Mom took Georgette and Arnold to the airport.”
“And left you all alone?”
“Don’t yell at me. Georgette was plenty mad ’cause Crawford went to the bank hours ago and said he’d send Mom home. She just got here.”
“I’m not blaming you, Keith. I don’t understand what kind of bank demands they work on Sunday.”
Keith scooted nearer Sherry. He peered at her somberly when she shifted away.
“Didn’t you guys have fun neither?” he asked, his gaze darting between the two adults.
Garrett started the truck with a roar and jerked it into reverse.
Sherry mumbled something ambiguous as Garrett laid rubber all the way to the street.
Keith hunkered unhappily between them. Regardless of the fact that he announced several times during the drive that he wanted to stop and eat, his dad continued on in moody silence.
Sherry rallied once and asked Keith who’d won in the Rams game.
“We didn’t get to go. ’Stead, Crawford helped Arnold with his stupid old coin collection.”
“What?” Garrett took his eyes off the highway. “What did he and your mom do with you?”
“Nothin’. Crawford told Mom if I was gonna live there, I hadda learn to occupy myself.” He picked nervously at his fingers. “I don’t gotta live there, do I?”
“Not if I can help it,” Garrett replied grimly. “Tomorrow I’ll have a talk with your mother.” Garrett glanced at Sherry, wishing she’d say something to quell the anxiety circling like a flock of buzzards in his stomach.
Her eyes were closed—in a pretext of sleep. He could tell she was pretending. Worry gripped him more tightly. Would a judge recognize Carla and Crawford’s supervision of Keith as lackadaisical? Or—considering how much overtime Garrett worked—was his care of Keith any less neglectful?
Custody was Sherry’s turf. Garrett would give a lot for her advice. She didn’t offer any. And once they arrived at the complex, she collected her bag and left, her goodbye and thanks a shade warmer than frosty.
“What’d you do to Sherry?” Keith demanded before he and Garrett reached their home.
“What makes you think I’m responsible for her bad temper?”
“You always argued with Mom. She said so. And she left. Now I’ll bet Sherry’s gonna go away, too.”
“I rarely argued with your mother. And I’m not responsible for what Sherry does or doesn’t do,” Garrett yelled as Keith slammed inside and tore upstairs. He exhaled noisily. “Do you want to go get Rags tonight?” he shouted from the foot of the stairs. “If so, straighten up and fly right.”
Minutes ticked by before Keith’s sullen pinched face again appeared at the top of the stairs. “I want my dog, but I don’t wanna talk to you.”
Garrett’s stomach bottomed out as he slowly dropped his suitcase. “I’m sorry your mother left us, son. And it’s time I tried to answer questions you have.”
Keith wouldn’t look directly at his father.
Garrett sat on a step and patted the carpet beside him. Without waiting for Keith to join him, he said, “The divorce wasn’t my idea, son. I gave your mom everything I knew how to give.” He clenched a fist over his heart. “Love wasn’t enough to make her happy. Sometimes it isn’t, and that’s nobody’s fault. Not mine. Not yours.”
Keith crept down the stairs and slid wiry arms around Garrett’s neck. “Sherry’s not like that, Dad. Her heart is this big. Bigger.” He threw his arms as wide as he could. “She loves kids and dogs and other stuff. Love’d make her plenty happy, I bet.”
Garrett closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. He couldn’t meet the hope shining in his son’s eyes.
An hour later they had Rags home. Keith was lying on the floor watching TV, his dog curled at his side. Garrett sorted through the mail. There was a letter from Carla’s attorney. He ripped it open and read it fast. Then stunned, he read it through more slowly. It contained a lot of legalese, but the gist was a warning for Garrett not to try to rush into a marriage with a virtual stranger for appearance’s sake.
The letter fell to his lap. Carla’s lawyer had obviously learned via Keith that there was something going on between him and Sherry. Or Carla had suggested as much. Wouldn’t they love to drag Sherry’s name through the mud? Wasn’t it fortunate, then, that she’d cooled off when she had? Folding the letter, Garrett returned it to its envelope. He walked over and stuffed it in his desk with the other correspondence belonging to his case.
“Keith,” he said, “tomorrow, I’m hiring someone to look after the house and you. What Sherry needs is for us to do our thing and give her space to do hers.”
“No, it’s not what she needs.” Keith jackknifed into a sitting position. He enfolded Rags in his arms as he glared at Garrett.
Garrett steeled himself to ignore his son’s misery. He wondered if there was a way to back out of buying this town house. But he couldn’t really afford to lose the earnest money. “Is what I said clear, Keith? After tomorrow there won’t be any need for you to call and bother Sherry.”
Keith snapped off the TV and ran upstairs. “Sherry doesn’t think I’m a bother. When I get big, me’n Rags are gonna live alone. Aren’t we, Rags?”
Garrett gazed after the pup scrambling to keep up with the boy. He considered finding a parent-child counselor. It would help if Carla went, too. But she’d refused to consider a marriage counselor. And when did he have time? This job kept him so busy he barely saw Keith now. “Remember—you aren’t big yet,” he called sternly just before Keith’s bedroom door slammed.
Next morning Garrett counted on the boy’s anger having blown over.
But Keith remained mute. After dropping him off at school, Garrett called Westerbrook’s office and explained he’d be late. “I’m stopping by a domestic employment agency. I can’t keep imposing on Dr. Campbell.”
Westerbrook coughed. “Wise decision, my boy. In fact I’d planned to have a talk with you today. Yesterday Sheldon March’s wife said somebody saw you, Keith and Sherilyn putting suitcases in your truck. I’m sure it was perfectly innocent, but talk of that nature causes big trouble on campus.”
Garrett was so knocked off his pins he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“You understand the position, I’m sure. Faculty would never accept it, what with Sherry reporting to you. They’d dump her as department chair.”
“But she’s tenured.”
“Tenure won’t protect her in an elected post. Why belabor a dead issue, eh? All I’m saying is that it’s good you’ve come to your senses and are hiring a sitter. I’ll be happy to pass on the reason you’re late to the budget committee today. Very happy.”
Garrett clutched the rec
eiver to his chest after Westerbrook clicked off the line. The tattletale had to be Yvette’s new roommate—the flight attendant—what was her name again? Listening to Westerbrook’s warning, Garrett was doubly glad now, for Sherry’s sake, that she’d abandoned their deepening relationship. Although he already missed her. When they were together he’d foolishly believed marriage was possible.
With his lousy track record, he should have known better.
* * *
ANGEL POUNCED on Sherry the instant she set foot in the department. Hustling her into her private office, the secretary shut the door. “Wait’ll you hear the scuttlebutt flying around campus this morning. People are saying you spent the weekend with Dean Lock.” Angel laughed uproariously.
Sherry plopped her briefcase on the desk and gazed at Angel with dark-ringed eyes. “I did. I’m a fool, Angel.” Sherry walked to the window, leaned a shoulder on the frame and gazed at a row of leafless trees. “I let him break my heart. Compared to that, a few nasty rumors are painless.”
“That rat! I’ll poison his coffee.”
Sherry almost smiled. “I said it before and I’ll say it again, no man is worth leaving your kids in foster care while you do hard time, Angel. I walked into this with my eyes open. I’ll take my licks on campus. Only...will you run interference between Garrett and me for a few days?”
“You got it, boss. I won’t poison his coffee. Just make him wish I had.”
“No.” Sherry shook her head as she pushed away from the window. “Once I get past seeing him at Nolan and Em’s wedding, our only contact will be professional. I can handle that. Remember I told you to think of a lost love as you would a death? I need time to grieve, then I’ll be good as new again.”
It wasn’t until after Angel left quietly without comment that Sherry wondered if her secretary bought into any of this—if she and the others Sherry counseled believed time healed all wounds. Sherry had to believe it, or she wouldn’t make it through the day.
But get through it she did. She avoided Garrett before, during and after school on Monday and Tuesday. By Wednesday, she’d begun to breathe easier. Then as she left her one-o’clock class, she glimpsed him hurrying toward his car. Her heart squeezed. Had something happened to Keith? Several seconds passed while she debated chasing after him to ask.
Fortunately a student stopped her, seeking her advice about a topic for a paper, and kept her from making a big mistake. She cared a great deal for Keith Lock. More than she had any right to. Sherry knew Garrett had hired a sitter. Everyone on campus and in the complex knew about the plump grandmotherly woman Garrett had retained to take Sherry’s place. Admittedly Sherry missed the time she’d spent with Keith. She missed laughing and talking with Garrett, too.
Her admission might have eased some of Garrett’s guilt when, for the second day in a row, he was called to school because his son had picked fights on the playground.
“Is something going on in Keith’s life we should know about?” the soft-spoken principal asked Garrett in the private meeting she’d requested.
He clasped his hands between his knees and tapped his thumbs together. “Keith is angry with me. I thought he’d get over it in a day or two, but he hasn’t.”
“Who is Sherry? According to our records, your ex-wife’s name is Carla.”
Unprepared for the question, Garrett straightened sharply.
The principal removed her glasses. “Keith didn’t mention you when I questioned why he’d flown into a rage. He said he missed doing things with Sherry.”
Garrett ran a damp palm over his mouth and chin. “Sherry picked Keith up from day care on a temporary basis until I could hire a full-time sitter.”
“Ah. A high-school girl.” The woman smiled. “Maybe you could arrange for her to ease out of his life gradually. I gather they skated, played miniature golf and watched videos. Rainy as it’s been, he’ll soon forget the sporting activities. But perhaps she’d continue the movies once a month or so.”
“Sherry isn’t a high-school girl. She’s a colleague of mine. A professor with a busy schedule.”
“But if she’s as nice as Keith claims, I’m sure she’d make time to help.”
Garrett stood. “He’ll see Sherry at her brother’s wedding next weekend. Thank you for your time and advice, Mrs. McKay. I’ll give it serious thought.”
“Keith is a sweet boy. Oh, and, Dr. Lock, normally I don’t involve myself in situations with noncustodial parents. But yesterday, I had a call from your ex-wife’s lawyer. He beat about the bush in lawyerly fashion. The upshot is I gather she wants Keith to live with her permanently. If she’s said as much to Keith, this may be another reason he’s acting out.”
Cold dread wrapped around Garrett’s windpipe, choking off his breath. When he wheezed a few times, the principal stepped to her sideboard and poured him a glass of water. “I assumed you knew. I’m sorry this came as a shock.”
“I knew. I thought if I cooperated...” Garrett broke off helplessly.
The principal sat again and laced her hands. “You know, don’t you, that Keith’s change in classroom behavior will give them a tremendous lever?”
Garrett nodded. “I do. Again, my thanks for the advance warning.” He left her office this time without being called back. The boy Garrett collected from the time-out room had torn jeans and an eye beginning to turn interesting shades of purple. And he puffed up belligerently, acting contrite only when it became clear his dad wasn’t going to rake him over the coals. Still, he didn’t apologize for his behavior.
Twice after Keith had gone to sleep that night Garrett lifted the phone and tried to muster the nerve to call Sherry. He’d given his new sitter the night off, but not even that helped. Garrett turned in after midnight, the phone untouched.
* * *
THE MIDDLE OF the next week, Carla called him at work. “I talked to Keith last night. He says he can’t come to St. Louis Saturday because of a wedding. Anyone I know?”
“A history professor from my campus. Nolan Campbell.”
“Campbell? Any relation to your so-called babysitter?”
Garrett didn’t like the smirk in Carla’s voice. “Nolan is Sherry’s brother. But I have a full-time sitter now. I assumed Keith would tell you.”
“He did. So things didn’t work out with you and Ms. Campbell, hmm?”
“Dr. Campbell,” he lashed out. “And there was nothing to work out. I’m busy, Carla. Why the sudden inquisition about my love life? What’s really on your mind?”
“The only interest I have in your love life is how it affects my son.”
“I could point out that your interest comes about eight years late. But I’ll let my lawyer do that in court. Isn’t that what all this is leading up to? A custody battle?”
“We don’t have our case built yet, Garrett. You’ll be the first to know when we do. I just don’t understand why Keith turned down a chance to visit us to go to the wedding of a man he can’t know well at all. Is this your doing?”
“Keith pals around with Nolan’s stepson, Mark. Did you ever think Keith might be more excited about visiting if you didn’t run off to work every time he shows up?”
“My work. That’s always been a thorn in your side, hasn’t it, Garrett?”
“Not your work, Carla,” Garrett said quietly. “Only your obsession with it to the exclusion of everything else in your life, including your son. I’m not turning Keith against you. You’re doing a fine job of it yourself.”
“Oh, yes. As if you spend every waking minute with him. Keith has a room full of toys and books here. And Crawford spends quality time with him. Don’t try to insinuate I’m a bad parent because I work to help provide a better life. Anyway, for your information, Keith said his class has a parent-child outing to the St. Louis Children’s Music concert on the Wednesday after Thanksgiving. H
e asked me to go. Not you, Garrett. Me!”
She couldn’t have hurt Garrett more if she’d cut out his heart with a dull knife. Keith hadn’t said one word about the outing. But Garrett would be skewered and roasted on a spit before he let Carla know that. “I suggested it,” he lied. “Despite what you think, I’m not trying to prevent you from building a relationship with our son.” He paused. “Don’t let him down on this, Carla.”
“I won’t. And since you have him for Thanksgiving, I’m including him in our Christmas plans with Crawford’s children.”
A protest rose to Garrett’s lips, but he let it die. Carla would love to have him contest the original custody decree. It said Keith would spend alternate holidays with each parent. If he spent Thanksgiving with Garrett, Carla was supposed to get him for Christmas. That was the agreement in theory; in practice, Garrett had always had him full-time.
“Okay. I’ll see that we have our tree early. Spell out the dates you want him and forward them to me by email. I hate to cut you short, Carla, but I’m late for a meeting.”
If he’d surprised her with his generosity, Carla didn’t let on. She hung up immediately. Garrett battled the billowing anger that he seemed unable to quell. Just as fast, he plunged into a loneliness the likes of which he’d never felt before. Not even when Carla had walked out. The thought of spending Christmas without Keith—he couldn’t even imagine the void. Christmas was a time for families. He didn’t know what people who had no one did over the holiday season. He slid into a depression he couldn’t seem to shake.
Garrett kept waiting for Keith to tell him about his invitation to Carla. The boy ignored his father and said nothing. Keith played with Rags and remained aloof and distant. Garrett actually looked forward to Nolan and Emily’s wedding.
“Where’s our present?” Keith spoke to his dad for the first time in weeks after climbing into the pickup to go to the big event.
“Sherry and I went together on a gift. She took it to wrap.”
“Oh. I saw her leave, but she didn’t have nothin’. She sure looked pretty, though. Did you see her when she went by our house?”
The Boss Next Door (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 22
