38. Chapter 38
thirty-eight
“Iheard the Brewsters lost their place today,” Mom says as I set the table for supper. “It’s just tragic. They said Maudie went to the bathroom and let a pan of grease get out of control. She was frying pork chops. The Red Cross is putting them up in a motel.
“Hell of a fire,” Dad says, coming in from the backyard with Bowie in tow.
“Pop-Pop!” Bowie holds out his hand.
I can’t help but smile. One that goes straight to my chest.
Dad shakes his head. “Kid. You’re killing me. Pop-Pop gets three curse words a day from now on. Free.” He holds up three fingers. “Count them.”
Bowie touches each. “One. Two. Three.”
“Three free for Pop-Pop every day, okay?”
“Aww.”
When Bowie’s shoulders droop, Mom and I exchange smiles. Something warm moves through me, seeing the bond they’ve already built.
Dad sets him on the floor, digs in his pocket, and hands Bowie a dollar bill. “Here you go. Next three are free. Okay?” He gives Bowie a tap on his little upturned nose.
“O… kay.”
“But only three. I’ll help keep count for you, Bowie,” Mom says to his back, as he toddles to the bedroom with his dollar, where he keeps his money jar, Daddy watching with a proud grin.
“I’ll make a banker of him yet.”
“For Pete’s sake,” I chuckle into my tea.
Dad pours himself a drink. “Nothing wrong with being a banker.” Taking his first drink, he says, “We saw the smoke from the bank parking lot. That was one helluva a fire they fought this afternoon.”
Now why does that sting? My eyes drift to my phone. Silent.
I haven’t heard from Calder, but Mercy said Tanner called her and told her all about it.
Now why can’t Calder call me?
I sigh. I haven’t seen or heard from him all day.
The phone trills and my stomach jumps. Then it free-falls, seeing it’s not Calder but Meredith. “Hello?”
“Laurel, it’s Meredith. We got the paternity test results.”
A gigantic lump forms in my throat. My eyes meet Mom’s. She and Dad move closer, and I put Meredith on speaker so they can all hear. “You’re on speaker, Meredith.”
“That’s fine. As you already knew, Grant is confirmed as Bowie’s father. I’m filing the notice with the court first thing in the morning. Since this has already dragged on, I’ll file for an expedited hearing.”
“Will I have to come back up there for it?” My fingers curl around the counter edge.
“Not if he agrees, and he will. Remember, we’ve got the goods on him.”
“How much longer until it’s over?”
“Two or three weeks.”
A breath leaves me in a shaky rush. “Thank you, Meredith.”
Mom grabs me into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.” She turns to Dad, calling Bowie. “Let’s eat!”
“Delicious, Callie.” Reaching across the table, Dad takes Mom’s chin in his hand. “You’re still the best cook in the county.”
“I’ll clean the dishes, Mom.”
Ding-dong.
We all turn toward the front door. “Who’s here?” is on everyone’s eyes or lips.
“I’ll get it!” Bowie tries to wiggle out of his booster chair. Everything excites him.
I lift him free, setting him on the floor. “Go get it.”
I’m right behind him when I open the door.
Calder. Cleaned up, polished up—freshly shaved. A soft blue plaid shirt that makes his eyes even more striking.
“Hey, Bowie.”
Bowie holds his arms out for him, and Calder kneels. Standing, he settles Bowie in his usual spot.
“We ate supper!”
I love the way Bowie rests his elbow on Calder’s shoulder. God, those shoulders.
“Looks like you had spaghetti.” He thumbs Bowie’s chin.
“Yes, pas-getti!”
“Yum.” Calder smiles at me—leans down with Bowie in his arms—and kisses me on the temple, tenderly. He smells so good.
But I can’t resist a dig. “Glad to know you’re alive, Mr. Boone.”
His brows pull together with an impish grin. “Didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to be.”
I give him a look, a little pouty sting. “Tanner called Mercy. Said the fire almost got away from y’all.” I clear my throat dramatically. “I’ve had crickets.”
A grin to die for takes over his face as he swallows a chuckle, glancing at Bowie like he’s trying not to laugh in front of him. “Was I supposed to call?”
“Yes.” We both say.
“Well… for one thing—Mercy called Tanner. Not the other way around. And next time, I will.”
“I’m going to get her. She didn’t tell me that.”
“Can I come in? I’ve got a surprise.”
“Surprise?” Bowie yelps in his arms. “A good surprise?”
“Only kind I bring.”
“Yay! A surprise, Mommy!”
Leading him into the den, Dad stands, offering Calder his hand. “Calder.”
They shake. “Mr. Hayes. Callie.”
“Dabbo,” Dad says. “Have you eaten?”
“Oh, I didn’t come to impose. I brought something.” He glances at me. “Can I bring it in?”
“Is it a horsie?” Bowie asks with twinkling eyes and a smile to die for.
Not one of us can keep a straight face.
“No,” Calder answers through a grin, “but almost as good. It’s a surprise. You can’t see it yet. How about y’all wait on the patio and I’ll bring it to you?”
He passes Bowie to me.
“What on Earth?” Mom mutters as he heads out the front door.
The rest of us head outside, Mom with her glass of tea and Dad with his after-dinner drink.
My eyes grow wide as Calder comes through the gate carrying a red Radio Flyer tricycle like it doesn’t weigh an ounce.
Bowie’s little jaw drops as his eyes grow wide.
“Thought you could ride this around the backyard.” He sets it on the concrete patio, rolling it back and forth, then sets Bowie on the seat. “Hold onto the handles and put your feet on the petals.”
Bowie has to stretch to reach the bottom one. God, it’s so cute.
“Okay, now, push down on that top petal.” Calder directs him.
He does, and the trike rolls. “Mommy!” he squeals.
“Keep pedaling. It’ll make your legs strong,” Dad says. “Good job, Calder!” Quieter, he mutters out of the side of his mouth, “It’ll wear him out and he’ll sleep good. Damn!”
“Pop-Pop!” Bowie says over his shoulder, reproaching while pedaling.
“That’s free,” Dad mutters.
“How’d you manage that?” Calder laughs.
“Just told him. He’s breaking me. Pop’s new rule. I get three free a day.”
Calder shakes his head, smiling. “Wish I’d thought of that.”
“Have a seat,” Dad says, gesturing toward the outdoor sofa with a sweep of his hand. “You want a drink?”
Calder’s eyes land on me. “Thanks. I’d take something. Tea.”
“I have beer,” Dad says.
“That’d be fine.”
I stand, resting my hand on Calder’s shoulder. “I’ll get it.” Dad keeps beer in the garage refrigerator, since he doesn’t drink it. It’s only for guests.
Walking away, I hear Dad say, “Helluva fire today. Heard it almost got away from you boys.”
“Don’t answer that!” I yell over my shoulder. “I want to hear!”
“I heard Maudie let a stove fire get out of control,” Mom says. “You know that scares me sometimes, especially with Bowie here. How easy it’d be to get sidetracked—like if he fell—and I’ve got something on the stove. I make myself turn off the burners before I do anything.”
“Smart,” Calder says as I hand him his beer—cap already off.
“Yeah, that’s what they said. That thing was almost melted before we got there and the damned—” He glances at Bowie, who’s riding his trike and not listening.
“The paint was buckling on the propane tank when we got the hoses out. Scary as shi—.” He stops himself again, his eyes flicking to Mom. “Well, it was scary for a minute.”
“Calder. You could get hurt.”
His eyes meet mine with a glint of surprise. “We all could. But someone’s got to do it. Ladera doesn’t have a city fire department.”
“Hear you’re down a fire truck.”
“Brush truck. We lost it last June.”
“It hasn’t rained since July,” Mom says, her eyes on her flowerbeds. “My water bill is through the roof.”
“Yeah, it’s scary dry out there,” Calder answers over his beer. “If the wrong fire gets behind us—this whole part of Texas is a tinderbox. They’ve had rain north, east—even south—but our whole stretch, west of Austin and south of Abilene—it’s getting more dangerous every day.”
Something about that sends a chill up my spine, but before I can get lost in the thought, Calder turns to me.
“Laurel, I want you to call me before you come to the hardware store.”
Our eyes meet and hold.
The trike.
“You saw?”
“Every damn bit. Tanner and I put her on written notice.” His eyes shift to Dad.
“I’ve got a worker who—I dated years ago.
She’s jealous of Laurel. Been acting…” He clears his throat and tips his beer toward Dad.
“Very unprofessional. I can’t just fire her—she can say it’s retaliation.
So, we gave her a written notice for unprofessional conduct.
The way she treated a customer. If she does it again, she’s out.
But I still want to be beside you when you’re in the store. ”
“Is she dangerous?” Mom asks.
“Hell, I don’t think so. But I didn’t think she’d act like this either. Never crossed my mind. That was four—maybe more—years ago we went out and it wasn’t serious then.”
“On a lighter note, the results of the test”—I make air quotes—“finally came back.”
“You knew what the results would be,” he says, his expression flat.
“I know. It was just… humiliating to have to go through it. And worse, to think after three years he’d actually walk away from him if the results weren’t what he wanted.”
Calder tilts his beer toward Bowie, his voice low and certain. “Don’t know how any man could walk away from that. He’s the greatest gift anyone ever had.”