Father to Be (10 page)

Grayson turned off the engine and opened his door. In back the kids were leaning against Caleb’s seat, ready to
climb out. He looked at them over his shoulder before saying, as if it were no big deal, “We’ll wait here.”

Grayson didn’t believe him. “Yeah, right. Come on—all of you.”

Arguing wouldn’t do any good. Caleb knew that. He’d argued with just about every adult he’d met in the last few days and none of them even listened to him. They all thought he was just some dumb kid who couldn’t possibly have anything important to say. Maybe he was a dumb kid—hadn’t he been held back once in school? And hadn’t he gotten caught by the cops? But he knew what he wanted, and what he wanted most of all just then was not to go back in that store.

“Let’s go, Caleb,” the doctor said, sounding pissed. “Now.”

Clenching his jaw, Caleb shoved the door open, stood back while the kids jumped out, then dragged his feet to the door. Inside, he took a quick look around. The checkers were busy ringing up customers, and the desk at the other end, where the man had pushed him down, was empty. Maybe he wasn’t workin’ today. Maybe nobody who was workin’ that night was there now—at least, nobody who’d remember him.

He was so busy convincing himself of that that he almost ran into Gracie when she stopped all of a sudden. Noah joined her, and, with their eyes open wide and their mouths too, they looked around them. They’d never been in a grocery store before. Their mother, before she ran off, liked to come to town by herself so she could look in all the stores and pretend she wasn’t poor and didn’t have a husband and four kids waiting at home. Their dad had always come alone too, and Caleb, when he’d come to steal, sure couldn’t let the kids tag along.

“Is all this place filled with food?” Gracie asked in a hushed voice.

Grayson answered, “Food, paper stuff, cleaning and bath stuff. Want to ride in the shopping cart?”

She looked at the cart, nodded, and raised her arms. Before he could pick her up though, Caleb pushed between them and
he
picked her up. He set her inside the cart, then Noah too. Giving Grayson a smug look, he began pushing them away.

“What kind of fruit do you guys like?” Grayson asked, sticking close to Caleb. “Want some bananas?”

No one said anything, but he got a bunch anyway and gave them to Noah to hold. Noah looked like he might peel one and eat it right there.

“What about apples? Oranges? Strawberries?”

The thought of strawberries made Caleb’s mouth water. Strawberries were his most favorite food in the whole world, but he didn’t say so.

Grayson put two big baskets of berries in the foldout seat of the cart, handed Gracie and Noah bags of apples, oranges, grapes, and carrots. Caleb stared at the berries, wishing they weren’t so close he could smell them. Hell, he wished they weren’t in the cart at all. He wasn’t takin’ nothin’ from the shrink, remember? Just a place to live and three meals a day. No new clothes, no new shoes, no special treats like strawberries.

They sure smelled good though.

Grayson went to the cereal aisle next. “What kind of cereal do you like?”

Nobody answered. They acted like they didn’t hear him.

“Noah? What do you like for breakfast?”

Nervous, Noah shrugged. “We don’t never eat breakfast.”

“At my house you do. You want to try some super-sugar-frosted wheaty bits? Mini-chocolate-chip-cookie-o’s? Honey-raisin-cinnamon-nut bran?”

Noah hesitantly nodded. Yes to all of ’em, Caleb thought with satisfaction. It was a stupid question anyway. What little kid
wouldn’t
want to try all of ’em? Now stupid Grayson had to buy ’em all, and it would cost a lot. ’Course, he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was spending his own money. The lady from the state would give it all back to him.

Grayson put six big boxes in the cart, then pulled it to another aisle for throwaway cups, napkins, and bathroom tissue. He got two gallons of milk and a loaf of some fancy bread, then finally they went to check out.

Always when he left the store, Caleb felt guilty, as though he had to sneak past the checkout without anybody seeing him. He felt guilty now, even though he’d done nothing wrong, even though nobody was likely to even look twice at him since he was with the doctor. Still, his face felt hot, his hands were getting sweaty all over again, and he wished he were anyplace in the world besides right there. The only thing that could possibly be worse was seeing Alanna or the man—

The voice he dreaded interrupted his thoughts. “Afternoon, J.D. I thought I caught a glimpse of you back there, but I wasn’t expecting to see you with kids, so I assumed it was someone else. You have company?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Grayson said. As he began unloading the cart, Caleb kept his head down. The man, busy ringing up boxes of cereal, might not even notice him. But then the stupid doctor was introducing them.

“—Noah and Gracie, and this is Jacob and that’s—” Grayson looked straight at Caleb and stopped talking because he knew. He knew why Caleb hadn’t wanted to come into the store, knew he was embarrassed and afraid, and he felt sorry for him.

For that Caleb hated him.

“Caleb and I have met,” Bill said. He looked at Caleb as
if he didn’t trust him, making the boy’s face burn hotter. Caleb stared at the toe of his ragged shoe until finally Grayson said, “Let’s go.”

Nobody said anything till they got the bags loaded in the back of the truck and the kids had climbed in the backseat.

Then Grayson said, “You don’t have anything to be ashamed of, Caleb. Yes, stealing is wrong, but you had a good reason—”

Caleb slammed the passenger door, cutting off his words.

At home Grayson tried once more. He came into the house last, carrying the bags with Gracie’s clothes. Caleb stopped him at the bedroom door.

“I know it wasn’t comfortable going back in the store so soon, but it will be easier—”

Caleb took the bags, then, just like he did back at the store, he closed the door in J.D.’s face.

O
n Tuesday morning J.D., taking care to make no sound, went to the guest room, where the door was propped open. Two nights in a row, after the kids had gone to bed, he’d turned out the lights and closed the door. Two mornings he’d awakened to find the door open and the hall light on. He wondered which of the kids was afraid of the dark. The natural assumption would be Gracie, who was youngest, or Noah, who was smallest, but J.D. knew better than to make assumptions about kids.

They slept soundly, looking so innocent and sweet. When they woke up, the younger three would still appear innocent and sweet, maybe even more so, as they clung to their big brother/protector, but Caleb awake and alert was neither. What he mostly was was difficult. Obstructive. Angry.

And he was well within his rights to be all that and more, J.D. kept reminding himself.

From the kitchen came the faint aroma of coffee, drawing him in that direction. The timer-controlled coffeemaker was his best gift ever to himself, giving him coffee on demand to make him feel human and in control. He
needed
to feel in control. He filled a mug, then took it, his shoes, and his socks out onto the steps. The pale gray sky was showing pink off to the east, and there were lights on in houses up and down the street. The dawn air was cool, sweet, and the neighborhood was quiet. It was a peaceful time of day.

By the time he’d finished his coffee and laced up his shoes, Mrs. Larrabee’s back door had opened. His landlady made her way across the damp grass to his steps, offering a cheery smile when she saw him sitting there.

“I admire your energy so early in the morning,” she said in greeting.

“I admire your good humor.”

“Are the children still in bed?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks for coming over.”

“I can drink my coffee in your kitchen as well as in my own. Go on now. Stretch your legs. Have a good time.”

She went inside and he headed down the steps. After a series of stretches, he trotted down the driveway and to the street, where he turned right. He’d been running—in one way or another, he thought cynically—more years than he cared to count. Sometimes he loved it, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he couldn’t bear having nothing to do but think. Sometimes he found himself the worst company in the world—the last person he wanted to spend time with, the very last person he wanted to be.

Today was one of the better days, with things to think about besides himself, his mistakes, his failures. There were the kids. It was difficult to reach the younger kids with
Caleb exerting such control. Maybe if he got them around other kids … Alanna Dalton knew Caleb from school, and the younger Daltons, Josie and Brendan, were near the younger Browns’ ages. If they could spend some time together, maybe Caleb could ease his rigid control just a little. Maybe he could be a kid again for a while.

J.D. was approaching Main Street, planning to turn right. But the sight of a familiar figure turning off Main onto Sixth and jogging away from him changed his plans.

She wore bright red shorts and a royal blue tank, a pleasant change from the brown suit of the day before. Her curly hair was pulled into a ponytail that bounced with every step she took, and her legs … He sucked in his breath in a low whistle. No denying it, she had great legs.

He thought about catching up to her and about staying fifteen yards behind her. Both ideas had their merits—talking to her versus watching her. Learning more about her or just admiring the obvious.

The decision was taken from him when she reached City Park, turned onto the paved path, and slowed her pace, leaving him no choice but to join her. Once he did, she returned to her original pace. They’d passed the ice rink and the picnic tables before she finally spoke. “You know, I usually run alone.”

“You’re alone. I just happen to be going in the same direction.”

“I noticed. In the city, following a woman jogger is a good way to get yourself in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble? What did you carry for protection? Pepper spray?”

“That’s illegal in New York.”

“Like that stops anyone,” he scoffed. “Besides, we’re not in the city. One of these days you’ll become so much a part of Bethlehem that you’ll almost forget you came from
someplace else. Your years in the city will seem like nothing more than a distant nightmare.”

“Is that how you think of your years in Chicago? As a nightmare?”

It was an innocent question, one he’d inadvertently set himself up for. Knowing that didn’t stop it from stinging though. It didn’t ease the sudden queasiness in his stomach or the sick taste in his mouth. “What years in Chicago?” he asked with forced lightness that sounded phony. “My life began when I came to Bethlehem.”

Maybe she recognized the phoniness, maybe not. Either way, she gave him a long look and fell silent until they’d rounded the playground, when she changed the subject. “You never answered my question yesterday.”

“You asked a lot of questions, and I answered every one. ‘Can I come in? Can I see the kids? Is there someplace we could talk? Can we close that door?’ ”

“Why did you agree to take the children?”

Fixing his gaze on the path ahead, he listened to the sound of their footsteps, hitting the pavement in unison. As the sun climbed higher, the sky lightened and the temperature began to edge up. Sweat trickled down his spine and left damp spots on his shirt. He was uncomfortable, but it was a pleasant discomfort.

“I’m waiting, Dr. Grayson.”

Rather than try to explain what he didn’t entirely understand himself, he answered flippantly. “Noelle was persuasive.”

She responded dryly. “So you’re susceptible to pretty little things. What a surprise.”

For a long time he hadn’t been susceptible to anything except self-pity, self-loathing, grief. Bethlehem—and the people he’d met there, the acceptance he’d found there—had changed that. “I’m a man. I like pretty women. So shoot me. But I didn’t take custody of four kids simply
because a beautiful woman asked me to. And I didn’t give them up simply because another beautiful woman told me to.”

The look she gave him was long, steady, and unimpressed. “Am I supposed to be flattered?”

“When I flatter you, Ms. Malone, you won’t have to ask for confirmation. I was merely stating the obvious. Besides,
you
were the one who brought looks into the conversation.”

After a moment she grudgingly said, “I suppose you can call me Kelsey.”

“I suppose I would anyway, with or without your permission.” Then he grinned. “I don’t suppose you’re going to call me J.D.”

“Who’s with the kids?”

“Is that a new habit? Ignoring comments you don’t want to respond to?”

“Surely you didn’t leave them home alone.”

“Because it’s very rude. You really should break it before it’s too late.”

She scowled at him, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Giving unsolicited advice is also rude. Who is with the kids?”

“Mrs. Larrabee. If I’d left them alone, don’t you think I would have run the other way when I saw you instead of following you?”

“Why did you follow me?”

“Uh, this is my regular route? I didn’t want to run with the sun in my eyes?” A quick glance showed that she didn’t buy either answer. Why should she, when it was so obvious? Gorgeous legs, six miles long, were an enticement no right-minded man would turn his back on.

“I ran this route yesterday and didn’t see you, and the sun wasn’t up high enough when you started to even clear the trees.”

“Maybe I’m just being neighborly.”

“Huh.” Clearly unimpressed, she gestured toward the long, low building up ahead. “This is it for me—back where I started.”

He turned into the parking lot with her, passed a half-dozen cars, and stopped at the end of the cracked sidewalk that led to number three. “Hey, I used to live in number three.”

“What a coincidence.” She bent over, hands to the ground in a long stretch that pulled her clothes snug. It was an interesting sight from the front—the long line of her neck, her back exposed where her tank top dipped down, the muscles clearly defined in her legs and arms. How much more interesting it would be from behind, J.D. suspected, but if he walked around her to confirm that suspicion, no doubt she would stand up immediately.