Showers in Season

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Showers in Season Page 29

by Beverly LaHaye


  There was silence for a moment. Finally, Rick said, “You know, Mom’s a screamer and a yeller.”

  Steve grinned. “I know.”

  “You know she doesn’t take a lot of guff from anybody,” Mark said.

  “Nobody but you.”

  “I don’t give her that much guff.”

  “Buddy, you give her plenty.”

  Mark was quiet for a moment. “So what are you going to do? Marry her?”

  “I don’t know,” Steve said, looking down at the piece of wood in his hand. “Maybe in time.” He looked up at both boys. “What would you think about that?”

  Rick didn’t look too happy. “It sure would mess up the dynamics of our household.”

  Steve burst out laughing. “The dynamics of your household? What do you mean? Would I stop the yelling, the sarcasm, the volume?”

  “You’d come in and start trying to change us,” Rick said. “That’s what always happens. I’ve seen it a million times.” He sounded like a wise and bitter old man. “The mom gets married and the husband comes in and starts ordering people around.”

  “Do you see me ordering Tracy around?”

  “No, but she’s easy.”

  “Besides,” Mark said, “we don’t have room for two more people in our house, and you don’t have room for four more in yours.”

  “You’re right,” Steve said, looking up at the dark sky. “Bad idea.” For a moment, they were quiet, and he wondered if they were buying it. When he looked at them, they all started grinning.

  Finally, he got serious. “I’m not going anywhere, guys. I hope you’ll try to get used to me.”

  “How do you know she’s the right person?” Rick asked. “Maybe there’s somebody else out there who doesn’t have kids who would love to be Tracy’s mom. Somebody who could just move right into your house and there’d be no big deal and no adjustments.”

  “Sounds like a nice scenario.” He shook his head and looked off into the night. “But there’s something about your mom.”

  “Oh, brother.” Mark stretched out on his stomach and kicked his feet in the air. “Where’s your ex-wife, anyway?”

  Steve’s face sobered, and he went back to carving. “I’m not divorced. My wife died of cancer,” he said, “a few years ago. Tracy’s another one of those kids who’s growing up without a mom.”

  The boys were both quiet for a moment. “So is that why you want to marry mine?” Mark asked. “So Tracy will have one?”

  Steve grinned. “If that was the case, I’d just hire a good baby-sitter. I wouldn’t pick a working mom with three teenaged kids. The thing is, your mom and I, we hit it off right away.”

  The boys were both quiet.

  “But like I said, I’m not gonna do it until everybody’s okay with it.”

  “So is that why you brought us out here, to start working on us?”

  “Nope,” he said. “Honestly, I just wanted to go camping. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any guys to go mud biking with, and I don’t think I’ve ever caught that many fish. It’s a good time, guys. I’m glad you came.”

  Mark shrugged. “It wasn’t terrible or anything.”

  That night, as Steve lay in his sleeping bag looking at the stars, he thanked God for the blessings of the day. Despite Mark’s underwhelming comments about the day, Steve knew it had been a success.

  CHAPTER Sixty

  Tory lay awake for most of Saturday night, which caused her to oversleep the next morning. The doorbell woke her up, and Brittany yelled from the living room, “Mommy, somebody’s at the door!”

  Tory sprang out of bed and saw that it was ten o’clock. It was too late to make it to church, she thought dismally. She pulled on her robe and stumbled to the front door, looking for Spencer all the way through the house.

  Brittany had a box of cornflakes, and had laid the cereal out in rows on the coffee table.

  “Britty, what are you doing?”

  “Counting the cornflakes.”

  Tory moaned and grabbed the box away from her. “Where’s your brother?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? Where is he, Brittany?”

  The doorbell rang again. “Maybe that’s him,” Brittany said.

  Tory bolted for the door. “Spencer!” she shouted as she opened it.

  “See? I told you she was asleep.” Spencer was standing at the door next to David Dodd, Brenda’s husband. The child was still in his Superman pajamas, complete with the cape.

  “You looking for him?” David asked with a wry grin.

  “Spencer!” She pushed her tousled hair back from her face and pulled the boy in. “David, where was he?”

  “I found him climbing through the window into my workshop,” David said. “Fortunately, I happened to be in there at the time. He said he just wanted—”

  “I just wanted to play with the tools,” Spencer said. “That buzz saw is cool.”

  “The buzz saw? Spencer!” She jerked him. “You could have cut off an arm!”

  “I’d still have another one,” Spencer said.

  She turned mortified eyes to her neighbor. “David, I am so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “If I hadn’t been in there, he’d have never gotten in. I’ve started locking everything since the Mark incident.”

  “But the buzz saw? Oh, Spencer! What were you thinking?” But Spencer scooted past her and went to help Brittany count cornflakes.

  She leaned against the door. “Thank you for bringing him back,” she said. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I finally got to sleep about five, and I guess I just didn’t wake up.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Brenda told me what’s going on, Tory. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Again, she finger-combed her hair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve got to do better.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “I’d oversleep, too, if I didn’t get to sleep until five.” He glanced back at his house, then turned back to her. “You know, Tory, I might be out of line here, but I wouldn’t be against going to visit Barry if you thought it was a good idea.”

  Tory couldn’t think. “I don’t think there’s anything anybody can say to him to reason with him. He just feels the way he does, and nobody’s going to change that.”

  He shrugged. “Well, okay.”

  “Look, I appreciate you bringing him home. I’m sorry to be so negligent.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” David said. “No problem at all.” He yelled past her into the house, “Spencer, you mind your mother, okay? You got me to answer to if you don’t.”

  Spencer stood up and peered at him over the back of the couch. “Yes, sir.”

  Tory closed the door as David started back down the steps.

  CHAPTER Sixty-One

  Barry lay on the made-up hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. Daylight flooded through the sheer curtains, making the room look even more dismal.

  He hadn’t slept last night. He had tossed and turned in the big bed, and several times had picked up the phone to call Tory. But anger always stopped him.

  It was Sunday morning, and he missed being in church with his family. He missed the madness of trying to keep Spencer clean long enough to get him to his classroom, and the frenzy of finding just the right bow for Brittany’s hair. He missed the hurried breakfast and the last-minute dash for something they forgot as they were pulling out of the driveway.

  Was that all behind him?

  His eyes filled with tears, and he wiped them away with his wrist. He didn’t want to be a father without his children. He didn’t want Tory to be like Cathy, a single mom doing the best she could. He didn’t want to be like Cathy’s ex-husband, letting time and distance dull the feelings he had for his children. He didn’t want to call them once a week and have them sum up their lives in the word fine.

  He got up and looked at that phone again, wondering if
Tory was home or if she had gone on to church without him. He wondered what he would say if he called her. He couldn’t apologize for talking to Linda Holland. He had done nothing wrong. And he couldn’t suddenly make himself happy about the baby. He wasn’t ready to let Tory call the shots on that.

  Frustration overwhelmed him, and he fell back down. He couldn’t call. The ball was in her court. She would have to do it.

  When his pager began to beep, his heart jolted. Maybe it was Tory, he thought. Maybe she wanted to talk to him. He got up and grabbed the pager off of the dresser, and saw that the number wasn’t one he recognized. Maybe Tory was in trouble, he thought. Maybe she was calling from another location. Maybe she was in the hospital…

  Quickly, he dialed the number.

  “Hello?”

  It was a woman’s voice, and it took him a moment to realize it was Linda. “Linda? Is that you?”

  “Barry, you got my page.”

  “Yes. I thought it must be Tory.”

  “I just wanted to see if everything’s all right. I know Tory overheard what we were saying the other day. She overreacted, didn’t she?”

  He dropped back on the bed. “You could say that.”

  “So what happened?”

  He knew he shouldn’t be telling her any of it. “Well, I’m in the Holiday Inn as we speak.”

  “Oh, no. She threw you out? Because of me?”

  “Because of a lot of things.” He didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Well, I’m coming over right now. I’ll take you to lunch,” she said.

  “No.” His voice was firm. “Don’t come, Linda. I’ve already eaten.” It was a lie, but he knew her presence would only complicate things.

  “Well, okay. But Barry, I feel terrible about this. I want you to know that if you want to talk, I’m here.”

  He closed his eyes. “I appreciate it.”

  There was a long pause. “Are you mad at me, Barry?”

  He frowned. “Mad at you? No, why?”

  “Because I feel this tension in your voice. Like you’re blaming me for this somehow.”

  “No,” he said again. “I’m blaming Tory…and myself Not you.”

  “Good,” she said. “Because I really care about what you’re going through.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. It felt good to know that someone cared, when he was lying here alone in a dark hotel room on a Sunday morning.

  “Look, you call me if you decide you want to talk,” she said softly. “I’ll be right here, by the phone all day.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “And can I call later? Just to check on you? Maybe we could have dinner.”

  “Sure, you can call,” he said.

  “All right.”

  When she had hung up, he dropped the phone back in its cradle and stared at it for a long moment. If he did have dinner with her, it would be because Tory had driven him to it, he thought. She couldn’t expect him to stay in solitary confinement. He knew she wasn’t.

  He took a shower and got something out of a vending machine for lunch, and considered Linda’s request to have dinner with him.

  Then he kicked himself for even thinking about it. What was he doing? Tory had thrown him out because of her, and now he was considering having dinner with her? No, he thought. He couldn’t. He would say no, and nip this in the bud. Then he realized that it was something he needed to do face-to-face. Maybe he should have dinner with her to tell her that he wasn’t going to have any more intimate conversations with her. If his marriage was ruined, he didn’t want it to be because of another woman.

  By the time she called that afternoon, he’d had his fill of Nascar racing and ice skating on television, and had rehearsed his speech to Linda at least a dozen times in his mind. Then he went down to the lobby to meet her, so she wouldn’t come up to his room.

  As he waited, he couldn’t help realizing that he was looking forward to a meal and some benign conversation. Even if he was ending things before they’d ever begun, it felt good to have someone to share a meal with today.

  CHAPTER Sixty-Two

  David didn’t know what had gotten into him as he stepped into the hotel. It wasn’t like him to get involved in a family squabble. But this was Tory and Barry, and they had both done a lot to help when Joseph was in the hospital. As painful as this was going to be, he felt he owed it to them to take one shot at saving their marriage.

  Besides, Spencer and Brittany needed their dad. Tory needed her husband. When he’d seen her at the door today, looking troubled and weary, he had known something had to be done.

  Barry had paid him a visit in the hospital, to talk to him about another serious matter—David’s faith, or lack of it. He had known that Barry had done it out of concern for him, and though it hadn’t changed his mind, David hadn’t held it against him. He hoped Barry would receive this visit in the same spirit.

  He got off the elevator on the third floor and found 311, knocked on the door. To his disappointment, Barry wasn’t there.

  He checked his watch and wondered if Barry was down in the restaurant having dinner. His heart surged with pity for the man who had alienated himself from his own home. But then he remembered what Brenda had said about the other woman Barry had confided in and the late hours he’d been keeping. David started to get angry again.

  He rode the elevator back down and walked across the lobby, found the restaurant, and peered in. He scanned the patrons. He didn’t see Barry, and started to leave. But just before he did, he glimpsed a couple in the back corner of the restaurant, partially hidden behind a plant.

  “Just one in your party, sir?” the hostess asked.

  “No,” he said, “I just came to meet somebody. I think I see him now.”

  The woman let him go on back, and David stepped between two tables to get a better view. It was, indeed, Barry, sitting at the table with an attractive woman who was leaning toward him in quiet conversation. David felt the heat coloring his face. For a moment, he considered turning around and going home. This was none of his business, after all, and he didn’t want to be the one to catch Barry with the other woman. That was not what he had come here for.

  Then he changed his mind and realized that Barry’s family rested on this moment. Maybe the shame of being caught would turn things around.

  Dreading this with all his heart, David slowly approached the table. Barry looked up. “David!”

  The woman turned around.

  “I thought I might find you here,” David said quietly. “I took a chance.”

  Barry looked suddenly embarrassed. “Linda, this is my next-door neighbor, David Dodd. David, Linda Holland. She’s one of my colleagues at work. She came to bring me some papers.”

  “On Sunday?” David asked.

  Barry’s ears began to redden, and the color flushed across his face. “We work hard,” he said. “We have some projects that are going on and we had to get them done.”

  “I see,” David said, but he didn’t really see at all. There were no papers on the table.

  The woman quickly got to her feet. “ Well, since I don’t have anything else,” she said, “I guess I’ll be getting on back now.”

  “Yeah,” Barry said. “Thanks for coming.”

  “No problem,” she said. “If you need anything else…”

  Barry shot David a look that made him feel like an intruder. But he told himself that he wasn’t. The woman was the intruder, and Barry was like a stray animal trying to find a place to rest.

  As the woman hurried away, Barry pulled some cash out of his wallet and left it next to the check on the table. “Why don’t we go back to my room?” he asked.

  David nodded. “Yeah, that might be a good idea. I just want to talk to you.”

  Looking as if he’d rather be run over by a freight train, Barry led him up to his room.

  David was relieved to find there was no evidence of Linda Holland in Barry’s room. Maybe this hadn’t gone too far yet. Mayb
e he had come just in time.

  “So what do you want to talk about?” Barry asked.

  David sat down on a chair facing Barry’s bed and settled his elbows on his knees. Clasping his hands together, he looked down at the carpet. “What do you think I wanted to talk about?”

  “Well, my marriage, obviously,” Barry said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “No offense, David, but this is really nobody’s business. We’ve been having some problems for a while, and I’ve just had enough.”

  “Your wife is pregnant,” David said.

  Barry breathed a laugh. “You think I don’t know that?”

  David kept his eyes locked on Barry. “Earlier today I rescued your son from a buzz saw. He was crawling through the window of my workshop.”

  Barry looked stricken.

  “Tory had a rough night, so she overslept and Spencer got away.”

  Barry swallowed. “Was he hurt?”

  “Of course he wasn’t hurt,” David said. “Somebody would have contacted you if he had been. I would have called you. But the point is, he could have been. Your wife is not feeling well, and she’s depressed, and you’re not helping matters any.”

  “Hey, I’m feeling pretty down, myself.”

  David met his eyes. “So why are you sitting in a hotel huddled over a table with another woman?”

  He breathed an exaggerated sigh. “You make it sound like we’re involved with each other,” he said. “I haven’t done anything with her. I’ve just been talking to her. Sometimes a person needs somebody to talk to.”

  “I don’t think I have to tell you that it’s not appropriate for you to talk to another woman about problems with your wife.”

  Barry gave him a disbelieving look. “David, I don’t need you lecturing to me about morality.”

  David’s temper flashed. “If you want to talk immorality, who’s the one closest to it here, Barry? I’m just minding my own business at home, rescuing your child from buzz saws while your wife tries to get through this pregnancy, and you’re here in a hotel with another woman.”

  “I didn’t have some kind of secret rendezvous with her,” Barry said. “I went down there to meet her because I knew it wasn’t right to have her in my room!”

 

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